#those content warnings were NOT kidding around

[scoonsalicious]

7.1 Major

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, discussion of feelings, nudity, mentions of some sexy stuff.

Word Count: 3.2k

Previously On...: Idk; it's been so long. Who can even remember? Just kidding-- Bucky blew off his plans for a 'friend-date' with Lily to talk to you about what happened that morning.

A/N: And we're back!

Hi, besties! I confess to not getting as much writing done as I had hoped on my break-- cursed writer's block! Then, last night, I ended up scrapping most of the writing I did do and started over, lol. However, I've got a bit of a back log again, and a four day weekend starting tonight, and now that I feel reinvigorated with the story, we'll be able to resume our regularly scheduled program!

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

You pulled up to the destination Bucky had sent you as dusk was falling. Langston Park. A weird spot for dinner, you thought, but you’d double-checked the location with Bucky, and he’d assured you that you were in the right place. 

Glancing at your map, you noticed that the pin he’d sent you was a little ways up a trail. You parked your truck and double checked your bag to make sure you had your pepper spray at the ready– not that you were afraid that Bucky was going to harm you– just that, a woman alone in the woods at dusk? You could never be too careful. It actually went against your better judgment to go in there at all, but you trusted that Bucky wouldn’t lead you into danger. 

If I do come across something unexpected, you thought to yourself, please let it be the bear.

You cautiously made your way up the trail, using the nearly useless flashlight feature on your phone to keep yourself from tripping over anything. It was difficult adjusting your eyesight from the bright light of the map you were following on your phone screen to the darkness gathering around you. After you’d been walking for about fifteen or so minutes, you had to turn left to go off-trail, cutting off your access to the dwindling daylight even more. You gently pushed branches of leaves aside as you made your way through the woods, until you noticed a soft, orange glow coming from up ahead of you.

When you broke through the tree line, your breath caught in your throat. The pin Bucky had sent you had led you to a small clearing nestled along a stream, with a melodious waterfall cascading down into a pool that held a handful of floating lanterns. The entire clearing was lit with hanging lanterns that gently swayed from the branches of the surrounding trees, washing the entire space with low, warm light. Spread out on the ground was a large blanket with some throw pillows, extra blankets, and a picnic hamper. And in the center of the clearing, crouched Bucky. He’d appeared to have just finished setting up his phone to stream some soft music. The entire tableau was the most romantic thing you’d ever seen.

“Hey,” you called softly as you turned your flashlight off, dropped your phone into your bag, and made your way into the clearing.

Bucky stood and turned to face you, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Major, hi,” he breathed. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“Did you do all this for me?” you asked in awe as you looked around, taking in your surroundings. You could feel a lump form in the back of your throat, and you had to actively tell yourself not to cry. No one had ever done anything so absolutely romantic for you in your entire life. Not once had Connor ever made a fraction of the effort Bucky had made tonight.

Bucky’s face took on a look of panic. “Is it too much?” he asked, nervously glancing around as though he were trying to judge it anew through your eyes to see what you might find wrong with it.

You smiled, reaching for his hand to offer a squeeze of reassurance. “It’s lovely,” you said. “No one has ever done something so amazing for me, Bucky. Thank you.” 

Bucky visibly relaxed at your words. “Figured I owed you something special, to make up for this morning.” He motioned to the blanket, guiding you to sit down with him. “I brought dinner,” he said, opening up the basket. Inside were several subs, a couple of bottles of lemonade, and a few bags of chips. “Sweet onion teriyaki chicken with cucumbers, extra pickles, and red wine vinegar,” Bucky said, handing you a sandwich. You held the sandwich to you for a moment, your chest filling with warmth at the fact that he’d remembered your offhand comment about your favorite sandwich. 

You put the wrapped sub down on the blanket in front of you. “Could we talk before we eat?” you asked him. “I’ve got some things I want to clear up first.”

Bucky swallowed and nodded, putting down the sandwich he had gotten for himself and looked up at you through his lashes. “Go ahead, sugar,” he said.

You took a breath. “I get why you didn’t tell Lily about me,” you said slowly. “It’s new, and we’re not even really anything. So, what’s there to tell her, really? Plus, she and I didn’t really have the best first impressions of one another, so that part, I understand. What I don’t get is why you felt you needed to lie about being out on a date at all.” Bucky opened his mouth to say something, but you weren’t finished. 

“I can’t even begin to tell you how many calls I got toward the end of my marriage that went just like the one you had with Lily last night. All the times Connor assured me he was just “out with the boys,” when, in reality, he was with his mistress. So, I guess, hearing you tell Lily you were with Sam for a ‘guys’ night’ was kind of triggering.” You sighed, heaving your shoulders. “I need to know, and I need you to be honest with me: Is there something going on between the two of you? Is that why you felt the need to lie to her about being out with me?”

Bucky shook his head vehemently and made a face of mild disgust. “Major, no– there’s never been anything between us,” he said. “I won’t lie, Lily is very important to me– as a friend– she was the first new one I made in almost eighty years, and she stuck by me when I was going through a really difficult time in my life, when I really hadn’t given her much of a reason to, but in terms of anything romantic, or sexual? Never.”

You tilted your head, considering his words. He seemed sincere, though if you had been a good judge of when a man you had feelings for was lying to your face, your marriage to Connor would probably only have been a fraction as long as it was.

“Alright,” you said, choosing in the moment to believe him, “so, if you’re as close as you say, and there’s nothing romantic between the two of you, it makes it even stranger that you lied to her about being out on a date last night.”

Bucky looked down, toying with a loose thread on the blanket you both sat on. “At the time,” he said, not looking up at you, “not telling her the truth seemed like a good idea. It didn’t really cross my mind that I was lying… more like ‘just not telling her the truth yet.’ I was really looking forward to seeing you again, doll,” he told you, his eyes now rising to meet yours, “ and telling Lil… well, it felt like I was needlessly complicating things."

You let out an exasperated sigh. “None of that explains to me the why behind it, Bucky,” you said. “Why would telling your best friend complicate things? 

“I just didn’t want her getting involved in our business before the two of us even knew what our business was,” he said, as if that made everything clear.

“But, shouldn’t your best friend knowing your business be, I dunno, a good thing?” you asked him in frustration, wanting to reach out and shake him. You felt like you were going around in circles. “Shouldn’t she be happy for you?”

“Of course!” he exclaimed. “Of course she’ll be happy for me. It’s just…” He heaved a heavy sigh. “Lily’s always had… opinions about every girl I’ve ever dated, and she’s never made it a point of keeping them to herself. I mean, most of the time, she ends up being spot on, and the relationship flops, but this…” he moved to place his hand over yours where it rested on the blanket, “with you? I wanted to enjoy it before she makes those opinions known.”

You turned your hand over and squeezed his. The full truth of the situation had clicked into place for you at his words, and the realization brought both intense clarity and an all too familiar heartache. “All my life, I’ve been… impulsive,” you told him. “I jump head first into things, without thinking about the consequences. It’s how I got into the Army, ended up with Connor, hell, even how I started my business. Sometimes it works out, but…” you  heaved a sigh, “usually it tends to blow up spectacularly in my face. I don’t want this to blow up in my face, Bucky.” 

The confusion in Bucky’s face as he took in your words was evident. “What are you saying, doll?” he asked.

You took a moment, considering your next words carefully. “I… I really like you,” you began as a wide grin broke out across his face. “Probably more than I should for a person I just met a few days ago, but the truth of it is, I’ve seen this story play out before, and I’m not sure I could handle opening my heart to you, only to have you leave me for the best friend you swore I’d never have to worry about.”

Bucky took both your hands in his own, a look of desperation crossing his face. “Sugar,” he said, then cleared his throat. “Major. I don’t know how many other ways I can tell you that I just don’t see Lily that way,” he said. “Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever seen any dame the way I see you. You’ve got me feeling all kinds of ways I’ve never felt before.”

His words were sweet, and you felt your heart soften, but you had to remind yourself: you’d heard words just like it before. “Look,” you said, pulling your hands away from his, “maybe you don’t , but it seems pretty obvious, even as an outsider, that her feelings for you are stronger than just friendship. I don’t want to lose my heart to you if you’re going to realize that you belong with someone you’ve known for years, instead of a one-night stand that went on for too long.”

Bucky reeled back as if you’d slapped him and closed his eyes in a grimace. “That is never,” he began, a pained expression clouding his handsome face, “ever all that you could be to me, Major.” When he opened them again, his eyes were boring into yours, the blue gone cobalt in the growing night. “I’m not going to wake up one day and decide I want to be with Lily. I’ve had four years in close proximity with her for those feelings to develop, and they never have. I honestly can’t see why that would change, especially now that I’ve met you.”

God, you wanted to believe him, but you’d already played this role and it had nearly destroyed you, despite how nonchalantly you acted about it. “Does she know that, Bucky? Because, to be completely honest with you, on the night we met, both Nat and Wanda advised me not to get involved with you, because of her.”

His face blanched at the admission. “What?! Why would they say that?”

“They warned me,” you clarified, hoping that you weren’t betraying any trust with your new friends and only feeling mildly bad that you were divulging Lily’s secret, “that Lily wasn’t a ‘girl’s girl;’ she was a ‘Bucky’s girl,’ only, you didn’t know it.”

“But she–” he spluttered, “she– we– she never– she’s never said anything. She’s never acted…” He was at a loss for words, and you could tell that the information had genuinely taken him by surprise. Despite what Lily may feel for him, it didn’t seem like he ever suspected it.

“Maybe I should leave you to think that over,” you said, making motions to start standing up. “Thanks for the sandwich.” Before you could even get your legs under you, though, Bucky reached out a hand and grabbed your wrist.

“Wait!” he exclaimed, gently tugging you back down to the blanket. “Why are you leaving?”

You shrugged, confused. “I figured you’d want some time,” you told him. “Decide what you want to do about her feelings.”

Bucky looked at you like you were crazy. “Doll, in what world do any feelings Lily may have about me concern how I feel about you?”

“I just assumed…” you began, but he interrupted you.

“Assumed what? That just because she’s got a crush on me, I’m gonna ignore this thing between you and I? That I’m gonna develop feelings for her, outta nowhere, I might add, and just forget all about you?”

You shrugged your shoulders sheepishly. “Yeah, actually,” you said.

“You idiot,” Bucky said, shaking his head  with a gentle smile and a soft laugh. He put a hand behind your head and pulled you forward until your foreheads were leaning together. “I sincerely mean this when I tell you I don’t give a fuck about Lily’s feelings,” he said.

You both widened your eyes at the perceived callousness of the statement. 

“Fuck,” Bucky backpedaled, backing his head away from yours a little “that came out soundin’ awful, and definitely not how I meant it.” He ran a hand nervously through his hair. “Of course I care about her feelings– she’s my friend– I just mean… shit. Just, obviously, I feel bad if me not reciprocatin’ hurts her, but there’s nothin’ I can really do for it, y’know? Because it doesn’t change my feelings, and it’s not gonna change my feelings. 

And shit, you believed him. 

“You know what?” Bucky said, as if an idea had suddenly come to him. “Here.” He reached under the collar of his shirt and pulled out his military dog tags. Lifting them over his head, he slowly draped them around your neck.

“Bucky,” you said, fingering the embossed metal, “what…?”

“Think of it this way,” he said, “you, of all people, know what these tags mean to a soldier. Since I came outta cryo, came back to myself, not a single person has worn them, ‘cept for me. I’ve had girlfriends ask– hell, Lily’s asked– but it never felt right.” He brushed a strand of hair back from where it had fallen into your face when you’d looked down at the tags. “But with you, it feels right. So, if you’re afraid that I’m gonna up and decide that I’d rather be with Lily, or fuck, anyone else but you, I want you to look at those tags and remember that you’re the one I’m picking, Major.”

You swallowed. You did know what those tags meant. Commitment. Trust. An unbreakable bond. Wordlessly, you reached around to the back of your neck, unclasping the chain that rested against your skin. 

Bucky watched your motions carefully. “Yeah,” he said, licking his lips nervously, “that was probably me moving too fast, huh? I get it– you don’t have to wear them if—”

“Shut up,” you said gently, as you removed your own dog tags from around your neck and fastened them around his. “I don’t need to wear two sets, and your neck looked so lonely without one.”

Bucky held up one of the tags so that he could examine it, and you caught the moment he registered your name and information catching the candlelight.

“Sugar,” he said, his voice cracking on the nickname. 

“You’re not the only one making a choice, Bucky,” you assured him.

He leaned in closer, taking your lips with his own, the kiss filled with the fire you’d come to associate with him, and only him. 

When you pulled apart, he rested his forehead against yours, and you could make out the glassy sheen of unshed tears in his eyes. “This is perfect. Thank you.”

You admired the way they hung from his neck for a moment, and were overcome with the sudden urge to touch them. You placed a hand over the dog tags, your name, now resting over his pounding heart. Bucky cupped his own hand over yours, pressing it against his chest.

“These look awfully handsome on you, Sergeant,” you told him with a soft smile. Bucky let out a low groan and you looked up at him, eyes questioning. “What is it?” you asked him.

Bucky’s face turned bashful and he shook his head. “Nuh uh,” he said. “Forget it.”

Oh, you weren’t going to have any of that. “Come on, Bucky,” you said, playfully poking him in his rock hard stomach. “You can tell me anything. I’m wearing your tags now,” you added in a singsong voice. “We’re practically going steady.”

Bucky’s gaze on you darkened, and he tugged at his lip with his teeth. “Okay then, if you’re sure you really wanna know.” You mirrored him, biting your lip and nodded eagerly. Of course you wanted to know what was going through his head to cause him to make such sexy sounds. “Just imagining what you’d look like wearing nothing but the tags, sugar,” he responded, his voice a low, husky whisper. “Bet it’d be the prettiest thing I ever saw.”

Well, if you weren’t going to take that as an invitation. Raising an eyebrow in his direction, you got up so that you were standing before him. Bucky moved forward, as if he were going to follow you up, a question ready on his lips, but you leaned down and gently pushed him back to the blanket, so he was propping himself up on his elbows.

Not once breaking eye contact, you slid your hands to the hem of your shirt, slowly dragging it up, over your head before tossing it to the side. Next, you toed off your shoes while you worked the buttons of your jean shorts, letting them slide down your thighs until you were standing in just your balconette and panties. You didn’t even care that you were in the middle of a public park and you were undressing for a man. All that mattered was that you were undressing for this man, and in the moment, you were willing to do almost anything he asked of you.

Bucky’s eyes roamed your body from head to toe and back again, but you weren’t finished. He’d said ‘nothing but the tags,’ after all. Reaching behind your back, you skillfully unhooked your bra, but didn’t pull it off, instead letting it sit on your chest while you slowly shimmined your panties down your thighs and kicking them off to join the rest of your discarded clothes. Bucky’s breath hitched as he took in your near nakedness, and you almost giggled at the visible tenting taking place in his jeans. 

Clutching the bra to your chest, as if you were shy, you slowly got down on your knees and crawled up Bucky’s thighs. Finally, you let the bra fall away, and Bucky’s wide eyes never left your breasts as he licked his lips. You palmed him through the fabric of his pants.

“I believe I once said something about wanting this down my throat,” you told him with a wicked smile.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

[almightygremlinblob]

Gojo Satoru HCs - Canon & Fanon!

⚠️CONTENT WARNINGS:⚠️ None, for the first part. Under the cut is when stuff gets weird. So minors and those uncomfy with anything remotely sexual don't click the "Keep Reading/Read More"! Will put another warning, tho. Just in case.

This is for my fellow Gojo girlies, platonic and romantic, because WOOOW 261 MAN. Sukuna's up next and then I'll probably dip again lmao. 💅🏽✨

Word Count: 855

Gojo Satoru HCs - Canon Gojo

A mix of HCs and character analysis, if Imma be honest.

1.) His arrogance is an act - both to himself and to others; although a part of him IS actually crazy. He grew up a spoiled rich kid, yes, but the weight of what he represented in the Jujutsu world has been ingrained in him since…well, he could conceptualize things. He is the strongest, and as such he is responsible for the world's safety (at least against curses) - it is in danger if he isn't. He's the strongest because he also HAS to be. 2.) Is definitely a boy dad to his students - guy OR girl. Though, like Nanami, he does try to make sure his female students feel comfortable around him; he's just more obnoxious about it. Not condescending...just obnoxious. Calls out and makes fun of the male students that make the girls uncomfortable, gives them more breaks if they specify that it's their time of them month and they need it, calls them a cab he can monitor to get them home safe (though he does this for all of his students, to be fair), or other stuff along the likes of that. 3.) Bisexual and Demiromantic, but his first and currently only love was Geto. 4.) Is apathetic to the weak because thinking about them would only weigh him down. Moreso than Suguru's betrayal, I think the deaths of his friends - who were arguably the weaker ones - really solidified in his mind just how important it was to be the strongest because it was so personal to him. The more he cares about the weak, the more he thinks about that instead of BEING it - it's an unnecessary weight. He only needs to focus on being the strongest, and then he can be there for the weak if they need him. 5.) HOWEVER, Geto's betrayal and Nanami's initial quitting only further served to isolate him, to prove to him that strength = loneliness. This is probably where his dream of creating more sorcerers equal to him in strength came from. Guy knows how lonely it is at the top, and doesn't want that for anyone else.

Gojo Satoru HCs - Fanon Gojo x Reader

These can be read as either platonic or romantic. Reader's gender and sex isn't specified.

1.) Teacher has a faaaavoriiiittee…(if romantic then favorite other teacher, random person, sorcerer, NOT student)… 2.) Despite how bold he often is, Gojo shows that he cares and looks out for you in very subtle ways - whether that be gently convincing you to take a break when you clearly need it, standing in between you and the road, giving you his umbrella when it's raining (he doesn't need it - he kept it for you in case you ever did), carrying extra meds you may need on hand, or even just getting you a snack, coffee or tea when you need a pick me up. 3.) Congratulations, you now have access to a luxurious mansion(s)! Gives you the keys to one of his many estates. Come and go as you please. 4.) If anybody makes you upset, he won't do anything drastic per se but…he WILL embarass them, somehow - though he often disguises it as a harsh joke at the expense of the other. 5.) Grew up as a weapon, basically, and when he finds someone that actually treats him like a person - he sticks to them like glue, without even realizing it.

Alright you know the drill. Minors and anyone uncomfy with anything remotely sexual DNI, and just scroll past. Don't click the "KEEP READING" if you don't wanna see all the sex-y stuff, and just go on with your day, furendo!

Fanon Gojo - Romantic

⚠️Further Content Warnings!⚠️

Honestly, not much LMAO - I'll save that for the actual fic in, like, 10 years from now. Mostly Gojo fluff, some mentioned sexual activities, and Sub!Gojo.

1.) Inexperienced with women. As much as I love the fanon interpretation of Gojo, he has probably never once touched a woman in his life, even if he and Geto were popular during their younger years. Guys though? Yeah you guessed it - he and Geto had each OTHER. 2.) Adding on to the point above, this guy is LOOYAAAAL when he finds someone that he truly loves. Just look at him and Geto. He has YET to move on after Geto 💔 3.) A golden retriever boyfriend. AND shares his sweets with you but he has to feed them to you. He HAS to. 4.) Guy is a needy, WHINY sub in bed. Loves to please and can stay seated in between your legs for HOURS as long as you praise him. Loud AF too and is absolutely shameless about it - it ruins everyone's day (except for you and him). Loves the wear the marks you leave on him like a crown and it's awkward for EVERYONE. 5.) Because he has so many responsibilities, and the Jujutsu world won't give him a break, you guys don't actually spend much time together - even moreso if you're a sorcerer, too. Expect missing anniversaries, cancelled plans, mismatched schedules, even nights without each other. Despite this, Gojo does try for you, he really does. He calls and texts whenever he can, sees you the moment his schedule allows, and brings home something for you every time.

I LITERALLY CAN'T WITH THE LEAKS PLEASE JUST TAKE THIS

#gojo satoru #satoru gojou #gojo jjk #jjk headcanons #jjk character analysis #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sub gojo #my writing

[popcornforone]

Bea-ch Day

A Frankie Morales Fan Fic

Ever the person to get completely side tracked from what I should be writing, when new content drops. We finally got the Corona adverts (other beers are available obviously) but the character has no name. However in this mini advert, he looked so Frankie (the main one is a mix of Javi G & Tim {I’ve almost combusted}) but I automatically had the perfect idea for a short sweet fic. So happy Frankie Friday peoples.

Synopsis:- You & Frnakie has a beach day & a cook out with your friends & family.

Word count:-1860

Warnings:- alcohol, mild swearing & innuendo & things being mentioned not appropriate for kids ears, pregnancy & mentions of sex but none actually happening. See it’s just fluffy & sweet this.

Thanks for the read peoples. I hope you all enjoy this.

“Mama mama” you hear echo down the beach. You had just topped up your sun screen on your arms when you heard the noise.

“What is it bumble bee?” You reply putting on your over the top beach hat which is so big. Your 4 year old comes bouncing up the beach & is pulling at your long floaty sundress that is covered in sunflowers. She’s in a yellow bathing suit. Her hair as thick & brown as her dad’s. She got your eyes though which your husband is very happy about.

“Look what I found” in her clammy little hand is a seashell, so you drop down to her level, your back aches straight away.

“Wow” you say enthusiastically & hold it. “This is a seashell, but it’s a special one”

“Is it?” Your daughter jumps about excitedly. Her hands trying to clap her hands. “Why?”

“Well if you close your eyes & are quiet when you put this next to your ear you can hear the sea & if it whistles you can make a wish.” You say with your eyes beaming back at her.

“A wishing shell, like a wishing well cool” she grabs it back out of your hand & then runs a few yards further along the beach. “Look daddy , look daddy look, it’s a wishing shell” her daddy, your husband, is wearing a dark blue beach shirt with a white kind of floral pattern on, he’s got stone coloured shorts on & his sunnys are in his hair, as he tends to the cooking the barbecue with a friend.

“A wishing shell” strong arms lift your daughter up into the air & spin her around as she giggles. “Ahhh I’ve heard of those, be sure to listen to a whistle” his princess comes first even before any food preparations, & more importantly to you any missions.

“I’m keeping it daddy”

“Yes you are Bea & we can put it on your bedroom shelf until your wish comes true” he puts her down on the ground giving her a big sloppy kiss.

“Will you make sandcastles with me daddy?”

“After lunch bumble bee, go get Marc & Jo, tell them to come out of the sea” your 4 year old is so worldly wise. Beatrice (Bea for short) has been brought up by the two of you to understand the world is a big bright but also bemusing place. She’s 4 going on 24 for sure.

You watch her run off to go get the two boys both older than her & you slowly walk over to your husband & get a nice cold cola out of the ice box. You rest your head on his shoulders.

“Was worried for a millisecond that you weren’t going to play along Frankie” you whisper in his ear & hand him a cold corona that you also got out of the ice box.

“I’d never break her heart, we just need to know what she wishes for”

“True” you softly kiss the side of his face & ruffles that hair. It’s going a bit crazy today. Unkept but you like it like that.

“What if she wishes for a brother or sister & it’s not the right gender?” Frankie questions as he turned to you, his hand glides over your dress. your 7 month baby bump showing. It’s taken a while for you to conceive your second, you’d given up trying after 2 years but then you got lucky. This September Baby will be loved & cherished just like you both will do anything for Bea. You were told you could find out the gender but much like with your daughter you both decided not to.

“Well maybe we could work on getting her another one” you say. A twinkle in your eye matches Frankie’s smirk.

“This squishy was hard enough to get beautiful, but I’d be more than up for trying again”

“Of course he would” Pope shouts as he & his two step boys & your daughter walk up nearer the beach to you. Everyone’s here for the annual group cook out you have every year. Frankie, Bea & you & the dog Mylo moved to the sandy beaches & keys of Florida 2 years ago, & this cook out that you do has finally come to it being your turn so that Frankie can have all his guys back together & they can remember their late captain. You’ve still never asked about that mission, you just are there to rub Frankie’s back at 3am sometimes when he has nightmares from it. It’s not so regular anymore but you can still sense his sorrow every now & then.

“Pope” he shouts back sarcastically & Bea comes & grabs you.

“What just saying, when you guys used to stay at ours we could hear the bed creek from our room”

“Pope there’s kids here” you say. almost all the guys have had their own kids or met women with kids already that there’s now a lot of you at this cook out.

“Thought you said they need to be worldly wise” Pope says.

“He has a point” you playfully hit Frankie & then so does Bea. “Hey” she giggles & then kisses your cheek.

“Bea only mama is allowed to hit daddy okay”

“I’ll bet” says pope. You roll your eyes as Frankie giggles.

“Come on Bea let’s get you some food.” You lift her up & take her to her seat at the table & bring across her favourite Crisps & a hot dog.

The whole afternoon is brilliant. Everyone catches up & has fun & played with everyone’s kids. It’s like you all just saw each other yesterday. You sit on the sand, with Bea building a sandcastle, she starts to rub her eyes feeling a little tired. She’s been running about all day with her friends trying to keep the pace with kids running in & out of the crystal clear sea who are twice her age.

“No don’t rub your eyes bumble bee, you’ll get sand in them” you say as Frankie comes to look at what you’re doing.

“Wow you built that with mama Bea”

“Yea daddy look” she points & Frankie sits next to her.

“Ahh you’ve still got one more bucket to go though” he says seeing one upside down. He picks up the child spade. “Ready for the magic tap?” Bea claps excitedly.

“Okay”

“Good, mama can count as well”

“1, 2, 3” the three of you say in unison as Frankie taps the bucket & then pulls it off the sand to show the completed sand castle.

“Wow” say Bea. Then Frankie grabs her & picks her up.

“Come on bumble bee let’s fly you too the sea to get some water to fill up the moat”

“Weeeeeeee tooo the seaaaaa” she screams with laughter as Frankie makes her fly like a bird under his arm & they both laugh. You sit there on the sand looking at your world, running down the beach having just such a fun & simple time. Not a care in the world. The sun is out but it’s not to hot & you’ve just been you all day. Amongst friends & very happy just chilling watching everyone you love get along. You rub your bump & whisper to it.

“This is your world my squishy, your mama, daddy & Bea can’t wait to meet you” it then kicks back at you & you beam. If anyone sees your eyes filling up you can say it’s from the lowering sun but it’s actually just your emotions at how perfect your life finally is & how good today has been.

Bea is tucked up in bed as Frankie kisses her head.

“You gonna fall to sleep” he says as he hands her, her favourite cuddly toy to sleep with.

“Yes daddy me & bob are going to dream” Bob is ugly bumblebee toy that one of your work friends got you when you had the baby, but it means the world to your own little Bea. No matter how hideous it is now.

“You’re going to dream” you say as you tuck her hair behind her ear. “Dream of what”

“A castle made of hot dogs” she reply’s which makes Frankie laughs. You softly smile.

“Wow now that would be a dream”

“With a massive boat”

“She means moat” Frankie whispers.

“Wow thats would be amazing.”

“Do you dream mama” Bea asks as you sit in the end of the bed.

“Every night”

“what of”

“Oooh we’d be here far too long Bea & you have had a long tiring day”

“But mama”

“No Bea your mums right” Frankie says as he lays his head next to her. “You need your sleep otherwise there won’t be any dreams.” Frankie is secretly glad Bea didn’t ask him about this own dreams. He never wants her to have nightmares he’s so protective of her.

“Will my wish still come true?” She asks. You & Frankie look at each other. You’d both forgotten about the shell. You see it on her bed side table & pick it up, listening carefully. Bea giggles.

“It’s still whistling” Frankie nods approvingly. “It’s working on that wish what was it Bea” you say. Both you & Frnakie waiting with bated breath.

“For what uncle Pope said to come true”

You & Frankie look bemused at each other.

“Okay so what did uncle Pope say”

“For daddy & mummy to be happy & scream in delight” Bea yawns, grabbing her toy. Both you & Frankie have turned red.

“Oooh I’m sure that will happen Bea” you say & kiss her forehead, her eyes closing as she loses her battle to stay awake. Frankie properly tucks her in & then sits with her for a few more minutes, to make sure she’s completely asleep. You don’t Hoover to far from the door way. You like watching Frnakie be soft. You might have fallen for the hardened army pilot with a drug problem, but what you really got was a soft teddy bear who wanted it be loved, & give all that love back. As you sigh standing in the door frame Frankie turns to face you. He slowly stands up & kisses Bea once more, before he slowly makes his way to you. She’s sound asleep probably already dreaming.

His lips meet yours once he’s there. Your hands delve into that crazy mop of hair, your heart racing, every nerve shreded. This is the man you love, your husband, father to your babies.

“So” Frankie says. “Do I go hit Pope for insinuating stuff to our little girl that she can’t understand, or do I thank him” he says as he moves your own hair off your face.

“Hit him & thank him, but do it tomorrow” you say & you grab Frankie’s hand & lead him to your bedroom.

“Yes mama” he says as he smacks your bum following your lead to make sure that your little Beas wish really did come true, even though she’d never be able to see it.

#pedro pascal #fanfic #my fics #smutt #no minors #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #over18 #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal universe #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fan fic #pedro pascal fic #frankie catfish morales fan fic #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales fic

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part five

authors notes: hi! you guys are so freaking awesome and sweet and like gawww, so grateful for such kind words and support!

so i realized that i used the wwe names for jimmy, jey, naomi, etc. that was my bad. i'll be using their real names moving forward for the sake of flow and consistency.

also keep forgetting to state that current timeline is 2023. like, this chapter is fall 2023. everything, so far, post breakup for joe and reader has been 2023. i plan to follow that timeline, so make of that what you will.

i hope this chapter isn't too boring to people!

warnings: fluff, language, suggestive content

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

words: 5.7k

tags: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wonderingfashion

“So, are we just going to continue to ignore each other?”

You’re not sure how, but you sense his presence long before he even says anything. And instantly, your mood is dampened, not that you were in the best spirits to begin with. You didn’t get much sleep the night before, for reasons you cannot fathom. But, it’s annoying as hell, especially when you have an ex turned fuck buddy who can’t seem to get a fucking clue ready to confront you outside of your daughter's preschool.

Sighing heavily, you pull out your phone to play around with your lock screen, because you really don’t have anyone you need to message in this moment. But, he doesn’t need to know that. “Not now, Amir.”

“Because you’re so busy?”

“Because I don’t care.” One thing you’ve learned about yourself over the years is that once you’re annoyed with someone, there’s no filter on your mouth and you cannot be held liable for what comes out of it. “Now, please, go away.”

He just looks at you, sun shining down on his waves and chocolate complexion. It’s unfortunate outside of his looks that he’s an overall trash partner. Decent friend. Shitty boyfriend. “You always do that shit, you know? Pull and then push. It was kinda cute when we were kids. Now, it’s just annoying.”

You were standing outside of Callie’s preschool, waiting for the kids to be dismissed, waiting for your little girl to come running out with a smile on her face, request on the tip of her tongue. It’s usually something small like wanting to show you what she learned in school. Lately, it’s been the same.

Can I call Joe?

A part of you feels bad for the amount of calls he probably gets in one day just from Callie alone. She took your offer for her to call him whenever he was available to another degree, not that he minded. He took as many as he could, listening to her talk and talk about whatever happened to be on her mind in that moment. And you let her.

What kind of mother would you be if you stopped her from talking to her dad? Even if she doesn’t know that’s who he is. 

It’s been almost two weeks since he left, and she clearly misses him. You often overhear her asking about when he’s coming again. You also receive those questions. It’s something you and him discuss via text but haven’t landed on a date yet. 

Communicating with Joe is also something that’s still an adjustment. It’s not as difficult or uncomfortable, because it’s almost entirely about Callie, but still. 

“If that’s the case, why do you bother?” You manage a less insensitive tone, even if you know good and well you’ve never led this man on. Amir has always heard and believed what he wanted to believe. That was the problem. He never listened to you.

“Because I fucking care about your annoying ass, duh.”

His delivery, the tone, and cadence. You laugh. It’s probably inappropriate at the moment, but it does bring a smile to his face as well. “Softie.”

He moves closer to you, arms crossed. “I’m serious, Y/N. You know how I feel about you. How I’ve always felt about you.” 

Leaning against your car, you respond as calmly as you can, “and you know I’ve always made it clear I’m not looking for anything more. We had our time, Amir. It didn’t work out. Now we just help each other get off. I don’t know why you keep trying to make it more than what it is.”

“A date. One date,” he implores. A waste of time, because your answer is no. It’s been no and will continue to be no. “You haven’t even given ‘adult’ us a chance.”

There’s a headache in your near future, one that’s reminiscent of past ones only Amir seems to induce. It’s interesting how he went from indifferent asshole to clingy asshole. You almost miss the earlier version.

Chocolate was supposed to be good for the soul, so why was he so draining to yours?

“Amir…..” You try to pick your words carefully and be mindful of your tone. “This is getting real old. I think we need to stop messing around, because we’re clearly not on the same page.” The next part is something you probably shouldn’t share, but you call yourself trying to be open and clear. “Calista’s dad is back, and we’re trying to navigate coparenting, so—” 

“What?” He stops you, shock written over his handsome face. “Are you serious? You’re letting that motherfucker back in ya’ll life?”

This time, it’s his tone that jumps, accusatory and harsh. You immediately grow defensive. “You don’t know him.”

“God, why do you defend him like this? Is it that Stockholm Syndrome shit? He left you. He left you and his kid. What kind of man does that? And you’re just letting him back in? Just gonna jump back on his dick? Letting him around Callie? She’s old enough now to remember when he decides to leave again. I don’t get how you don’t see that. You her mama. You supposed to look out for her.”

And now, you’re done trying to be nice, trying to be mindful that he’s still another human being with feelings. Because one thing you never have and never will tolerate is someone insinuating you’re not looking out for your daughter. You’re not perfect, but you know that you’re a devoted, dutiful mother. 

“It’s obvious comprehension isn’t your strong suit, which I should have known based off the fact that I always had to help your dumbass do your homework back when we were in school.” All bets….off. “My baby? My life? My pussy? All my business. You don’t get to judge the decisions I make for my child nor the role that her father has in her life. That’s between me and him. Keep your nose out my fucking business. Don’t worry about me hitting you up anymore. That’s dead.”

Your rose will do just fine. Hell, there’s gotta be at least one other eligible bachelor in town you could fuck if absolutely need be. But, you know damn well you won’t be messaging Amir anymore. He comes with too much baggage. It’s not worth it. You refuse to let a nigga whose height starts with a 5 stress you out.

True to his nature, he starts gaslighting you. Typical Amir. “There you go overreacting and shit.”

“No, I’m not. You’re trying to question my parenting when you don’t know shit about shit.”

He sucks his teeth, rolling his eyes. This was why people used to say you had a temper in high school. Because of him. Because he loved to tell people what you said but never what he did. Always tried to make you feel crazy. Truth be told, you’re stupid for even opening that door with him again, even if it’s just for sex.

“Whatever, Y/N.” He turns to walk back over to his car. You really wish his damn sister would change her work schedule so she can pick up her son instead of this asshole. You’ll catch a case fucking with his dumbass. “I’ll wait for your text.”

He’ll be waiting. “Fuck you, Amir.” 

You should be more mindful of your language at a damn preschool, but Amir has managed to get under your skin, something that hasn’t happened since you were in college. You know a good part of it is because you’re sleep deprived, but you also know it’s partially because of his dig at Joe.

You understand the optics seem to indicate that he’s a deadbeat, but you’ve expressed to Amir countless times that it was a complicated situation. He didn’t know the specifics, but you made it clear Joe didn’t abandon you or Callie. That’s just the narrative Amir keeps running with, and now with Joe being back in your life and especially in Callie’s life, you’re not gonna let it continue. 

“Mommy!” Your head snaps to see and feel Callie run up to and hug her body against your leg. “Boo!”

Shit. Did she hear any of that? You hope not and paste on a smile that’s hopefully authentic enough to sell that everything is fine. “Callie Bear.” You lean down and pick her up, kissing her cheek. “Did you have a good day?”

She nods and starts explaining the activities while you buckle her into her carseat, trying your best to calm down and not give away your high stress levels in that moment. Callie is super perceptive, and you don’t want to ruin the obviously great day she’s had.

And sure enough, as you’re putting on your seatbelt and starting up the car, the golden question is shouted with pre-excitement. 

“Can I call Joe when I get home?”

Smiling at her through the rearview mirror, you answer, “yes, you can.”

In the almost two weeks that have passed since Joe’s departure, not one day has passed that Callie doesn’t asks to call Joe or just outright helps yourself to her iPad to call him. Sometimes several times a day during the weekends. And she’ll talk to him for as long as she can, as long as he’s able to hold a conversation with her. You’ll give it to him, he’s done an exceptional job handling all of it. On some level, you wonder if you should set some restrictions or time parameters, but how do you limit how much a daughter interacts with her father?

Callie rejoices at your approval and requests for you to put on the Disney playlist you made specifically for her on Spotify. 

The drive, no more than 10 minutes, consists of the two of you singing along to a few Disney tunes. It’s a bit of a tradition between you, a way to bond via your shared love of Disney. A love that ties not only you to her but to the women before you. Your mom and grandma. 

Arriving to your apartment complex, you decide to leave your work bag in the car. It’s Thanksgiving break. You most likely won’t do any work until the day or two before having to return.

You do carry Callie on your hip and swing her bag around your shoulder, walking the two of you up to the second floor. Sometimes, you regret not accepting the apartment they had available on the first floor. The older you get, the less your joints like to cooperate, your almost 15 years of cheer probably taking a toll on your body. 

And just age in general. 

But your regret quickly turns to a level of gratitude when you reach your door. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Dropping Callie to the floor, she’s of the complete opposite reaction, gasping and smiling broadly. 

“Look mommy, more boxes!”

The smile is strained but you manage to maintain it, sticking the key in the door, unlocking and pushing it open.

She walks in, and you place her bag on the floor near the door, one foot keeping it open. “What do you think it is?” She asks as you pick them up and bring them inside, kicking the door closed behind you.

You know exactly what it is. What it all is. 

Gifts.

From Joe. 

In his absence, you’ve had several deliveries waiting outside your door when you got home from work and picking Callie up. And all of them were for Callie, gifts of variable nature but all of them things she loves. Disney, stuffed animals, dolls. Essentially anything that could make a 4 year old feel like she’s won the lottery. 

She’s literally bouncing on her toes, already with her kids scissors in her hands. 

When the hell did she grab those?

“Can I open them, please? Please?”

A part of you wants to say no, save them for christmas gifts, though you’re almost entirely certain he’ll have another set of gifts for her then. And it seems almost cruel to make her wait over a month when she knows there are presents waiting for her.

“Sure, but….” You scamper into the kitchen and grab your adult size scissors, returning and showing her. “Let mommy cut them, and then you open them.”

You don’t need this child accidentally cutting herself. Again, medical bills are not in the budget, especially around the holidays. Money’s already tight to some extent. 

Not that….not that it’d be much of an issue with Callie. You’d never fix your moth to ask Joe for anything, especially not financially, but if it was something involving your daughter, you’re pretty sure your tune would change. It would still bother you to ask for help, but you know he’d have zero qualms helping you out.

He’d probably pay for it in its entirety.

Your proposition pleases her. “Okay!” She places her scissors on the nearest flat surface and sits down, legs crossed, bouncing impatiently. 

Chuckling, you glide your scissors across, careful not to open anything. You want to save that moment for her and your plan. 

Once done, you place the scissors on the kitchen island and reach for your phone. “Wait before you open, baby.” 

Immediately, she frowns and scowls, “whyyyyyy.”

Rolling your eyes, you sit on the floor too to be at her eye level and open Snapchat. “Okay, now.” 

You hit record and watch intermittently through and outside of the screen as she opens the boxes, smile permanent and excitement palpable. She especially gets excited when she pulls out a freaking box of the new Little Mermaid and all of her sisters. More….dolls. 

“Look, mommy!!!” She then grabs a doll who has a surprisingly similar complexion and curl pattern to hers, holding it against her face. “She looks like me!”  

“She does,” you agree, realizing it’s a customized American Girl doll. Damn. Those things can run up to $200. You weren’t stupid, knowing Joe’s probably spent more money on Callie alone in two weeks than you’ve spent all year, but just how much has he spent?

It’s when she opens the final box, surrounded by nothing but toys and packaging that you’re already dreading having to stuff all this in your trash bin, “what do you say, baby?”

Callie hugs the American Doll close to her chest and directs to the camera, “thank you, Joe!” She gasps and adds on, “I miss you, but mommy said I can call you tonight!”

You hold back your giggle and agree, adding, “after she helps mommy clean up all this.” 

Her smile drops, pout returning, “I hate cleaning.” 

Snickering, you mutter, “you and me too, sis.” 

You end the video, save it and enter Joe’s chat to attach the video, adding a message.

You: You’re spoiling her, Joe. 😫 This is the third delivery this week alone. 

You’re able to clean up some of the packaging and throw it away before your phone chimes with his response. Callie has grabbed the amount you expected her to grab and discard. Her attention span is trash at the moment. She’s a child surrounded by toys. It’s expected. 

Joe: She's my little girl. Of course, I’m gonna spoil her.

Joe: There should be another one by the weekend. If not, let me know.

You sigh aloud, this man is gonna have your place looking like freaking KB Toys.

You: Omg

You: ….You know I live in an APARTMENT, right? Just where the hell am I supposed to put all of this stuff?

It’s sweet he’s so keen on gifting her these things, but he also has to realize you’re not living in a mansion in Malibu. And despite having a child who leaves messes wherever she goes, you do your best to keep your place tidy. 

 If you didn’t know Joe, didn’t see how easily he connected with Callie, you’d maybe accuse him of trying to “buy” her love. But, you know that’s not the case, know that he clearly just wants to make her happy. You just hope he knows that he does that all by himself, no gifts needed. 

Joe: She has a whole playroom.

You: Yes. Playroom, not Toys-R-Us. 

Joe: 🤷🏽‍♂️

You: 🙄 You’re aggravating.

He doesn’t say anything after that, so you decide to finish cleaning because at some point your child wandered off, most likely to her playroom to add all her new stuff with her slightly new stuff. Taking advantage of the alone time, you also decide to text your mom to figure out thanksgiving plans. Specifically, what drink, dessert, and/or condiments she wants you to bring because you damn well know she won’t ask you to cook.

She still hasn’t forgiven you for that accidental fire that one year.

And it’s when you’re sitting on the sofa, also starting to think about black friday plans that your mind wanders, your anxiety grows out of nowhere.

You’ve taken the approach to not have any say in Joe’s relationship with Callie, to intervene only when absolutely necessary. And as that hasn’t hasn’t occurred, you’ve not done so. You let him and her do their thing. But a small part of you wonders if you should put some parameters around Callie. She calls him several times a day, Joe, who spends more time on the road than there are days in the year.

You know he wants to establish a relationship with her, but that can be done with boundaries. Anxiety getting the best of you, you grab your phone and shoot him a text. 

You: Is it okay if she calls you today? I know it’s been a lot, and if too much, just let me know. I’ll talk to her. 

His reply comes almost immediately this time around.

Joe: She can call me 100 times. I don’t care. I wanna talk to her.

And instantly, the anxiety is almost non-existent. Deep down, you know this is what he wants. He wants to have interaction with her, and incessant Facetime calls are the only option with his crazy schedule, so it’s what he takes. It’s what he wants. 

Pleased and no longer stressing over an issue that was never an issue, you lock your phone and place it back at your side. A quick glance at the clock reminds you that it’s almost time for Callie’s bath. 

A couple minutes later, your phone dings with a text notification. From Joe.

You open it right away. 

Joe: This weekend. Don’t tell her. I wanna surprise her. 

You have to read it a couple of times before it registers. He’s coming back in town. This weekend. As in less than two days. You’re excited at this, happy as well. For Callie. But also, for yourself. Why? You haven’t a clue, well, maybe there’s a slight clue, but you don’t want to acknowledge that right now. 

You simply want to focus on the fact that you’re happy your daughter will be happy her dad is town. 

Who cares that you will be too.

________

Joe’s just walked out the bathroom, having showered and almost entirely prepped for bed when his phone rings. 

Moving over to the hotel nightstand, he’s surprised when he sees Callie’s smiling face filling his screen. A glance at the clock in the corner of his phone reads 11:06, which means it’s 9:06 her time. Well past her bedtime. What is she doing up?

Curious, and regardless, he answers the phone. It takes a second for the connection to finalize when it does, he’s instantly smiling, mostly because it’s Callie but also because of her setup.

It’s obvious she’s under a blanket, a flashlight in the corner illuminating the space, a stuffed animal in her lap. 

She’s the first to speak, her voice both loud and hushed in a way only she can do. “hi!”

“Hi, sweetheart.” He can’t help but ask almost immediately, “what are you doing up?” As he told you, he’d talk to her 24/7 if he could. And even though this call is unexpected and appreciated, she’s also a 4-year-old kid who needs her sleep.

Her little shoulders lift in a shrug. “I can’t sleep.”

Nodding, he follows up with, “where’s mommy?” 

“Sleeping,” she answers with a level of disappointment. “I don’t wanna wake her up. She had a bad day.”

“Really?” Joe moves around so he’s laying on the bed, on his side, phone propped on the nightstand. “How do you know?”

“Cause–cause she was yelling at Mr. Amir, and–and he was yelling at her too.”

Joe hasn’t a clue why, but that instantly upsets him. Who the fuck is this Amir person, and who the hell does he think he is to raise his voice at you? Around Callie of all people.

“Who is Mr. Amir?” Joe hates asking her all of these questions, but it’s also hard not to. 

“The basketball coach at the school for big kids.” She’s caressing the fur of the stuffed animal in her lap. “Aunt Mariah said he was mommy’s boyfriend when she was a big kid.”

“Really.” It’s not really a question as much as it is a general statement. Joe doesn’t know why he’s suddenly annoyed, not with Callie, but the entire situation. And definitely this Amir person even more now. He’s an ex. He dated you. It shouldn’t make him feel any type of way, but it does, and he hates that shit. 

He hates a man he’s never even met.

“I don’t like Mr. Amir,” Callie suddenly announces with a scowl. Same, kid. Same. Joe looks at her, seeing so much of you in her right now. He knows you’ve mentioned how you see a lot of him in Callie, but when she’s glowering like this, she’s 100% her mama’s daughter. “He made mommy mad today.”

“Has he ever been mean to you?” Joe has to ask, because he’s also realizing a part of him is upset at the thought of Callie being around men. You’re a grown woman and allowed to do what you want, but bringing men around Callie….that’s an absolute fucking no. 

He doesn’t give a damn if he’s only been in her life for two weeks or two minutes. She’s his daughter, and outside of himself and family, who you date should be kept far away from his daughter.

Joe mentally prepares to have this conversation—potential argument—with you. 

“No,” she answers, slightly calmer. “He doesn’t like Disney.” She says it like it’s a sin, like it’s almost inconceivable for anyone to not like Disney.

Playing along with this, Joe gasps, grateful for the distraction that is Callie’s intricacies. “He sucks.”

“Yeah, he sucks,” she agrees, nodding. Joe has to keep his smile to himself. “Do you say bad words?”

The randomness and topic change take him by surprise, but he’s learning that you weren’t exaggerating when you said Callie was filled with incessant, unrelated questions. “Sometimes.” 

“Mommy does too,” she reveals. “Grandma says Jesus doesn’t want us to say bad words, but I heard grandma call Ms. Beverly from church a bitch.”

At that, Joe can’t help his laughter. Her delivery, the punctuation she puts on the word ‘bitch’, to how she seems to not even process that she’s just said a bad word. It’s hilarious. “Well, sometimes grown ups say things we shouldn’t, and you just make sure you’re not saying things you shouldn’t.” 

“Okay,” she agrees, almost sheepishly. And then, a yawn. “I’m sleepy.” 

Joe knew she was from the moment she called, but he had a feeling she just needed to get the whole Amir thing off her chest. She doesn’t seem like the child who likes to or even can hold things in, which is preferable. “You should try to go to sleep then, sweetheart.”

She wipes at her eyes, expression suddenly saddened. “When are you coming back? You’ve been gone a really long time.”

He’s torn in this moment, wanting to tell her that he’ll be there this weekend but also not wanting to get her hopes up in case something comes up. There’s few things that could come up to keep him from going to see her, wrestling be damned, but still. Life has a way of lifing. So, he goes with the safe yet disappointing answer.

“Soon, I promise.” She’s clearly indifferent to this answer and doesn’t say anything, instead shifts on her bed, moving to lay down. “You should really try to sleep, Callie.”

Eyes starting to blink, clearly her exhaustion catching up with her, she asks, softly, “will you stay with me till I fall asleep?”

Her request tugs at his heartstrings. “Of course, sweetie.” 

Seemingly pleased by this answer, she closes her eyes, and he watches. He stares at this tiny human whose existence he only learned about not even a month ago yet would do anything to make happy. Joe thinks about Callie constantly, finds himself smiling at the thought of some of the Snapchat videos you’d send him of her in all of her randomness. She was so entertaining, so full of life, a genuinely happy kid. His kid. 

And it’s why he’s going to find out more about this Amir guy and why Amir is having any type of interaction with his daughter. 

________

Joe: You should know she called me last night.

You’re in the middle of perusing early Black Friday deals, needing to budget for that now and taking full advantage of Callie being down for a nap. However, you frown, reading his message, not understanding why he’s stating the obvious. You were there when she asked for the iPad and when she returned it after the call was finished.

You: I’m aware….

Joe: No. After that. 

Your eyebrows arch together, confused.  

You: What? when?

Joe: It was 11 my time, so 9 yours.

You gasp, typing away, wondering how the hell she snuck in your room and managed a whole ass Facetime call without you hearing shit. Were you really that damn exhausted?

You: What the hell was she doing up at 9? What did she say?  No wonder she was crabby this morning. 

Joe: She said she couldn’t sleep.

You: A bad dream?

Joe: Naw, said you got into an argument with someone named Amir earlier that day and didn’t want to bother you….I think it was bothering her.

Your stomach twists at that. You had a feeling she’d overheard the incident with Amir, but you prayed that you were wrong. Clearly, you weren’t.

Joe: Who is Amir?

You pause at Joe’s question. Why is he asking this? What business of his is Amir? Irritation washes over you, but is waned by realizing he’s probably asking because of Callie. As her father, he has a right to know if you’re with someone, because for all he knows that someone could be around his daughter. 

You really are trying with this co-parenting thing.

You: A lot of things. A pain in the ass being the most recent one. 

You: We dated in high school and college on and off. He’s the basketball coach at our local high school. 

It’s more information than probably what’s necessary, but there’s this small, conflicting part of you that wants him to know you have no ties to Amir. That there are no feelings there and haven’t been for literal years. 

That you’re not with Amir.

Joe: Are you dating him again? Why were you arguing around Callie?

The interrogating is getting old, but you’re trying to play nice. Coparent peacefully. His delivery is off, but he has valid questions.

Sorta.

You: No. We just….we fuck around from time to time. He tries to make it more than what it is.  Was about that. 

You: I was waiting for her to be released from pre-school, and he picks up his nephew for his sister. It just happened, and I didn’t know/mean for her to hear.

Honestly, you’re more worried and concerned about Callie and how to approach this with her without making her feel like she was in trouble. Yes, she knows damn well she shouldn’t be on the iPad that late at night, but can you really be mad at her for talking to her dad about something that upset her?

Joe: You bring him around her?

You absolutely can be mad though at her dad who’s about to make you cuss him out next too. All of the questions are becoming too much. He gets to be concerned, but he doesn’t get to micromanage and invade. 

Feeling petty and recalcitrant, you type out a reply that you should probably think twice before sending.

But fuck it.

You: No. I only ride his dick at his place. 🙂 

There’s a small ounce of regret for being so crude, but not a whole lot. He knows how you are, or he should, at least.

To some extent.

But your phone rings again, and you find yourself staring mouth agape at his reply.

You: You may ride his dick, but you had my kid. Clearly, only one of us knows how to please you. 

Your face is burning hot, and you hate how you shift in your seat. Why the fuck would he say that? You want to say it’s inappropriate, but you also opened this door. 

Is he entirely wrong?

Slapping away that wild ass thought, you focus on the real conversation at hand here. It takes a couple of rewrites before you ultimately decide to change the subject. 

You: I’ve never bought any man around her and never will that’s not you, if that’s what you’re asking. 

You’re grateful to see he’s also agreeing to change the subject.

Joe: It is. Thank you.

Rolling your eyes, you send a text back, getting back to being annoyed at his 21 Questions. This is a two-way street, and since he’s opened this door, why not?

You: You know that goes both ways though. I don’t want her around any bitches.

Joe: Seriously? 

Joe: There’s no one for me to bring her around. 

You…..you don’t know how to feel about that, don’t know how to feel about the bit of relief you feel at this message. Why should you feel relieved? Even if there was, that’s his business, and he’s allowed to….do whatever it is that he does.

It reminds you and brings you to your next topic. 

You: What about your wife? We need to figure that out as well. She’s eventually going to need to know about Calista and will probably be around her at some point. I get she’s your wife, but I’m Callie’s mother, I need to be there whenever you wanna introduce Callie. I need to be involved in that process as well.

He doesn’t reply. 

________

Joe doesn’t really get mad. 

Not often at least and definitely not outwardly. 

It’s always been his thing to never let anyone have access to that “button” that triggers his anger, and for the most part, it works well. 

Except for when it comes to you.

You’ve always been able to trigger many things for him, anger being one of them.

He knows he should have spoken to you in person about the situation, or even over the phone. But with the craziness of his schedule and differing time zones, he just decided to message you, and while it didn’t go horribly, it didn’t go great. He knows you’re annoyed with him.

Hence your crudity. 

Joe also refuses to admit that the thought of you fucking this kid pisses him the fuck off, even though you’re not together, even though he has no right to be upset. 

But goddamn that doesn’t make him any less upset or annoyed at the thought of someone else touching you.

“Uce?” Jon asks, standing at the door before inventing himself in Joe’s locker room for this week’s Smackdown. “You ready to talk man?”

At that, Joe looks confused. “Talk about what?”

“Whatever it is that got you all worked up.” The twins have always been very perceptive, even back when they were all kids. Joe might be good at hiding his frustration from others but not them. The difference between Jon and Josh though has always been Josh has the wherewithal to not say anything. 

Jon hasn’t caught on to that just yet. 

“I’m fine,” Joe dismisses, hoping it’s enough to dead the conversation, even though he knows better. 

“Lie detector determined that was a goddamn lie.” Jon can be pushy, but he means well, and truthfully, Joe doesn’t have a strong desire to outright shut down this conversation. A different perspective is always beneficial. 

Usually. 

So, he explains it all, starting with his call with Callie and ending with the text exchange between him and you.

“I see,” Jon nods, clearly absorbing all of this information. Finally, he concludes, “so you’re jealous.”

That’s the first thing to evoke a genuine laugh out of Joe since his exchange with Y/N. “I’m not jealous.”

“And I’m not a twin,” Jon dismisses. “Look, Uce, it’s obvious you still got feelings for ole girl. You ask me, I don’t think you ever got over her—”

“I didn’t ask you.” 

“--Now you sitting up here annoyed cause she fucking Coach Carter nephew instead of doing something about it.” Joe rolls his eyes. “I mean have you even told her about you and J—”

“No,” he interrupts, swiftly. “Not yet, at least.”

Nodding, Jon speaks again after a minute of silence. “All I’m saying is ya’ll got the history, got the connection, got the kid too! Don’t see why you need to be letting Jesus Shuttlesworth steal your girl.”

At that, Joe chuckles. One thing his cousins will always be good for, especially Jon, is comedic relief. Even some sound advice from time to time.

“Thanks.”

Joe is, surprisingly, thankful for the equally surprising advice from his cousin. He’s not entirely sure if he’s really jealous or just overreacting for a reason he hasn’t quite uncovered, but he is starting to lean more on the side of he does still have some level of feelings for Y/N. 

It’s not a complete shock. He had a feeling when he reacted so strongly to just seeing your picture. It was the whole Callie situation and finding out how you kept her from him that made his vision murky. 

But, as his relationship with her strengthens, the clearer he can see. 

The clearer his feelings are becoming. Now. it’s just a matter of figuring out what to do with said feelings.

And find out where you stand as well. 

Joe remains quiet, thinking more and more how this might end up being an eventful trip.

#roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns #roman reigns fic #aris notebook #black writers

[milliesfishes]

Impossible

[fem reader] contains: slow burn, angst, death, depression, fire, mentions of sexual assault, non-consensual touch, abandonment, jealousy, mentions of violence, childhood friends to lovers, reader's nickname is 'Daisy'. pairing: billy the kid x fem reader author’s note: I switched up the timeline to work a little better with the story and the ages/stats may not be quite show-accurate but oh such is life. There's a little bit of Spanish in here that is not google translated, but I am not a native speaker so be warned. Also the song was originally 'Fade Into You' by Mazzy Star, but I listened to this song so much when I wrote this that it only felt fitting. Enjoy!

For as long as you could remember, you'd been counted as one of the boys.

Your older brother, Joe, was the only sibling you had, and in the town the two of you grew up there weren't many options for friends your age. Most of the girls around those parts were socialites in training that were far older than you and the boys teased you too much, so you usually wound up going wherever your brother did.

Joe had an easygoing nature, so naturally he got on well with an abundance of the boys his age, both as a child and a young man. But his best friend by far was Billy, a dark-haired Irish immigrant who you'd known ever since his family moved to town. He and you had bonded at first over your respective brothers having the same name, then over riding and horses.

When you were younger you often tagged along when Billy and Joe would go off to play their games, and neither of them minded you. You usually kept to yourself anyways, playing games of silent make believe with pretty rocks you'd find along the trails. Sometimes they'd rope you into whatever they were doing, and you obliged, just happy to be a part of the fun.

As you all got older, Billy and Joe's games turned into handling guns, so naturally you learned too, since your circles were so limited. You'd spend hours in the sun, shooting cans off fence posts. It was a freeing thing- to be out there in the wilderness and not worry about what you should or shouldn't be doing.

The girls in town would poke fun at you for hanging out with boys, but you paid them no mind for the most part. You'd take your worries over theirs any day.

The years were spent climbing trees and hopping fences to steal apples, always laughing, always content. You felt that you wanted for nothing. You had a father and brother who loved you, and a friend in Billy. What more could you possibly need?

Billy was over at your house for dinner a few times a week, laughing and joking with you and Joe like he'd been born into it. Your father was fond of him as well, treating him like one of his own. And you always thought of him like that too, like another brother, just as good as Joe.

But when you were sixteen and Billy was seventeen, something switched.

Joe was off doing something for your father, so it was just you and Billy that evening. He'd suggested riding since it was sunny out for the first time in a while, the rain having taken up a great deal of the springtime. You'd agreed, and off the two of you went, exploring the prairie with the vigor only the young possess.

"Think you can race me to that tree?" you asked, nodding at it on a hill in the distance.

"You bet, but don't cry when ya lose Daisy." He called you by your nickname, grinning as he did. As a child you'd been obsessed with the little white flowers, picking them and putting them everywhere. He'd started calling you by that name and hadn't stopped.

"You wish!" You tugged on your horse's reins, and you were off, the wind in your hair, a rush of adrenaline shooting through you as you kept your eyes on the horizon. Billy was fast, but you liked to think you were faster. You'd been riding this horse since you were young.

Easily you reached the tree before he did, and he groaned good naturedly, hopping off his horse and tying the reins to a low branch. You were about to do the same when he suddenly reached up, grabbing you around the waist, hauling you off the horse and spinning you around. You squealed in surprise, and he stumbled, sending the two of you rolling down the hill. You tumbled together, shrieking with laughter as you reached the bottom.

He did the gentlemanly thing and made sure you landed on top of him, your face buried in his chest as you laughed.

"Well, I know you won but I damn sure didn't lose," he laughed, one of his arms landing on your back.

And in that moment, when you looked up, your hair in your face, and saw Billy's bright blue eyes piercing yours, it hit you.

You loved him.

He reached over to tuck some of your hair behind your ear and your heart fluttered, a little smile coming to your face. "I dunno, I think seeing your face when you tripped was the best prize of all."

He laughed and sat up, giving you a nudge with his shoulder. "I guess we're both winners then."

Then he stood up, offering you a hand. You took it, the feeling of his warm fingers making your stomach flip. He held your hand as you walked back up the hill, and you tied your horse on a branch so the two of you could sit in the shade of a tree. You let him talk aimlessly, distracted by your new discovery.

Suddenly you were noticing how handsome he was, how his hair fell in little curls on his forehead, how his skin was slightly tanned with a freckle here and there, how his smile was endearingly just a little crooked. And his eyes, the color of a clear sky. You were wholly enamored by him, and he had no idea.

He chattered with you for a while as you mused over it all. As the two of you watched the sunset, he reached over and picked a wildflower, placing it in your hand.

"For you," he said, his charming smile directed at you.

You treasured that memory every night after that.

From that point on, you were unsure how to act around him. He would joke around with you like usual and you responded in the like, but now with subconscious battles waging. Did he like you too? Were you just a little sister to him? What would Joe think?

All the things you normally did with him and Joe were now overthought on your part. You felt self-conscious now about going swimming with them in the lake, because you'd be wearing your white chemise, and they were shirtless in their underwear. The chemise stuck to your body when you swam, clinging to your newly grown breasts and your wet skin. Joe didn't pay any mind to it of course, but you could see that Billy noticed. Does that mean something?

Shooting was still fun, but one time when you missed and he stepped in to correct your form, you felt your breath hitch at his body being so close to yours.

You nursed the crush on him for a year, trying desperately to act normal around him so he wouldn't notice.

When your father died suddenly, you didn't have time for such things anymore. Joe stepped up to take over the ranch, and you did too, balancing books and managing the workers. You lost several nights of sleep trying to learn how to run everything properly. Your mother was long gone and your brother was taking care of the more physical aspects, so the responsibility fell on you.

Billy still came around to help out, but you were so busy you barely noticed. A part of you mourned it, the lost time. Because even tragedy couldn't squash feelings.

One day, he came over with a bunch of wildflowers, smiling as he gave them to you. He twisted his hat in his hands. "I just...I thought you could use somethin' pretty," he said, his blue eyes earnest.

You'd nearly burst into tears at the gesture, throwing your arms around his neck. He wrapped one arm around your waist, careful not to squash the flowers. "Thank you," you murmured, pulling back and kissing his cheek. "They're beautiful."

There was that charming smile again, melting your heart. "Thought of you when I saw 'em, you know cause they're-" he cut himself off, looking down and shaking his head. "Anyway, I'm glad you like 'em Daisy."

"How's your mama doing?" you inquired softly. His mother was sick, last you'd heard, with the same illness that had taken his brother.

Billy sighed, his emotion making him seem a hundred instead of eighteen. "She's hangin' in there."

"Good," you said, giving him a half smile. "Give her a kiss for me. She's the sweetest lady around these parts."

"Yes'm," he nodded. Then, he reached one of his hands up to cup your cheek, looking into your eyes with all the sincerity you'd ever seen from him. His palm was rough, and you liked the feeling, unable to help leaning into it as you gazed up at him. He hesitated, then leaned in and kissed your cheek, the little bit of stubble he had scratching against your soft skin.

Your smile was pure. "Was that from your mama?"

"No," he said, his thumb rubbing your cheekbone. "That was from me."

Billy leaned in and kissed your forehead, holding your head close to his shoulder for a moment before pulling back. As he left, his fingers trailed down your cheek, chucking you under your chin. "I'll see ya 'round, Daisy."

And then he trudged down the stairs, off to his horse to leave. You stood there on the porch, leaning against the railing for a moment and watching him get on his horse. Lifting your fingers in a wave, you watched him tip his hat before riding away.

You were distracted all night, frequently looking over at the wildflowers you'd put in a vase on your desk. His kisses played over and over again in your head like they were the only thing in it. When Joe came home, he asked what had your head in the clouds and you just said you had a good day. No need for him to know his best friend was kissing you, even innocently.

Billy's mother passed away one lonely night, and your heart ached for him like it hadn't for anyone else. Whenever you saw him after that, he carried a subtle melancholy that one had to know him to notice.

Joe noticed, you knew, and so he distracted Billy, frequently meeting up with him and another friend of theirs, Jesse. The man was an outrageous flirt, but good with a gun, and the other two boys liked his company well. You didn't know if what they got up to was legal, but you kept your thoughts to yourself, staying home and managing things there.

You'd catch a glimpse of Billy every now and then and remember that night on the porch, wondering if that was what he thought of when he saw you too. The nights were lonely when Joe was out with them, which was almost every night, and you longed for simpler times before anyone died. You yearned for the luxury of your young love for Billy because everything was different now. Childhood was over.

It seemed everywhere you looked a memory burst from your fingertips, the surfaces you touched more than senses. You mourned the loss of Joe, Billy and you. Those carefree wonderful children. It was all gone now.

On a rainy night in August, you were still in this haze, trapped in the past you could never reclaim. It was unusually chilly for this time of year, so you were sitting near the fireplace, trying to warm both your body and your heart. It was late. You'd been hoping Joe would come home soon but as the clock ticked, you realized it'd be another late night for him. You felt yourself growing tired, so you stood up, intending to go to bed.

Just as you started for the stairs, there was a heavy but frantic knock on the door, and you frowned. Who could be here this late?

You went to the door, opening it hesitantly, taken aback when you saw Billy on the other side. He was shivering, dripping water onto the porch. His eyes almost seemed like they were frozen in time, stuck on something he'd seen that'd change him forever.

"Billy?" you breathed, taking him by the hand and pulling him inside.

"'M sorry Daisy, 'm sorry for comin' here," he muttered, his teeth chattering.

You shushed him, bringing him to sit by the fire, spreading a blanket out for the two of you. He kicked off his boots before sitting beside you, his arms tight around himself to try and keep warm. The heat from the fire helped him loosen up after a moment, his shoulders relaxing, but only a little.

Your face shrouded with worry; you leaned closer to him. "Billy? What happened?"

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut and looking like he was trying not to cry. You'd never seen him like this. Not when he'd fallen out of a tree when he was ten, not when he'd stepped on a bee the same year, hell, not when his brother and mother died within such short time of each other. But now, now he was broken. He was falling apart just as you'd been for the past few months.

Wordlessly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him tight, and he buried his face in your shoulder. His arms wound around your waist, holding you snug to him. The front of your dress was getting wet because he was still soaked, but you didn't care, your body falling perfectly into his as you did your best to comfort him.

After a while of silence, he pulled back, just looking at you. There were tears clinging to his eyelashes, and his eyes looked bluer than you'd ever seen them. His lips parted, and his gaze was intense. Apparently tonight was the night for firsts, because this was another way you'd never seen him. His hands came up to your face, touching your cheeks hesitantly like he was afraid you'd disappear. One of his hands fell back to your waist, and you shivered slightly at the touch, unable to help yourself.

Billy's other hand slid to the back of your head, in your hair, his fingers tangling in the soft strands. He was looking at you like he'd never seen you before. You felt a pull in your heart, an urge to be closer, to be with him. It was impossible to remember what was lost now when he was right in front of you.

"Daisy." He pressed his forehead against yours, breathing softly, saying your name so quietly it felt like a prayer, a plea.

"Billy," you breathed, searching his eyes. You thought you knew every part of him, but you didn't know what he was going to do next.

So, when he kissed you, it was a supernova.

His lips crashed into yours, hot despite his trembling, needy in light of whatever the hell he'd been through that night. You'd never been kissed before, not like this. He was starving, desperate, and you had never wanted him more.

The hand in your hair pressed you closer to him, and you saw it all in his eyes when he pulled back slightly, the burning within him. Your hands framed his face, you leaned in for another kiss, and this time it didn't stop.

Before you knew it you were on your back, tearing at his shirt buttons. He shouldn't be wearing his wet clothes anyway. You did not think about Joe coming home, you did not think about the past for the first time in so long. His hands were on you too.

He caressed your body like he'd created it. Billy must have smoothed you out with his fingers, because you had never seen yourself the way you were reflected in his eyes. You had imagined doing this with him, of course, but here the line between fact and fiction became blurred. Is this real?

When he fastened his lips to the pulse point on your neck you gathered it was.

His fingers nimbly tugged at the top buttons of your dress, pushing open the folds to reveal your chest, which seemed to spur him on. Within minutes the garment was tossed elsewhere, his clothes were somewhere else, and his body was weighing on top of you in ways you never knew could be erotic. Skin against skin. Lips locked in a hungry dance. Limbs so tangled you didn't know whose was whose.

The windows fogged up from the rain, or your combined heavy breathing, you weren't sure when you were done. You were still knotted with him, his skin warmed from the fire. Billy traced shapes on your face with his calloused fingers, watching you tiredly with a fascination you'd never imagined could have related to you.

His gaze was very nearly adoring. You had dreamed of him looking at you like that. And now here the two of you were, side by side facing each other after doing the most intimate thing anyone could do. He was perfect in this light, the warmth from the fire making him glow.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his finger trailing lightly down your cheekbone. "I never thought anyone could be this beautiful."

"How do you know?" you whispered, not really knowing what you were asking.

He seemed to understand anyways, leaning forward to capture your lips with his again, his kiss tender and sweet.

You looked up at him with stars in your eyes. "What does this mean?"

Billy was quiet, holding your face in his hand. He pressed his lips to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips again and you knew. He loved you too.

He pulled you close against him, so your head was resting on his collarbone, tucked beneath his chin. His hand rubbed up and down your arm, soothing you into sleep. You felt more comfortable, more loved than you had in a long time. In the morning you'd ask him more, you decided as you drifted off. You didn't want to ruin the quiet peace you finally held in your hands, his underneath, supporting it.

Sometime in the night, your peace shattered, and when you woke up he was gone.

The fire was burnt out. It had stopped raining. You were still lying on the blanket in front of the fireplace, but someone had taken the other half and folded it over you. Billy.

You held the edge of the blanket to your nose. It still smelled like him. Confused and dazed, you sat up and looked around. Obviously, Joe hadn't returned home because he would have thrown a fit over you sleeping naked in front of the fire. Your dress was folded messily by your side. There were dried boot prints on the wooden floor, the only shred of evidence that someone else had been there.

If you hadn't been naked, you would have thought you made the whole thing up. Billy, whom you'd loved for years, had stumbled upon your doorstep and cried in your arms, then made love to you? The notion was impossible, and yet you remembered every second of it.

You sat awhile there, the blanket around your legs, just reliving the night, before you decided you had better get up before your brother came home.

You waited anxiously for Joe, jumping to your feet when he walked through the door, hanging his hat. It was almost dark. He greeted you, looking tired.

"Joe?" you asked, standing subtly near him as he sat down, running a hand over his face.

"Hm?" he mumbled.

"Have you seen Billy at all today?" you asked casually, fidgeting with your fingers.

He looked somber as he met your eyes. "Billy left town."

It felt like you'd been knocked off your feet. Your heart pounded in your ears, your face going pale. "What do you mean he left?" There was a hint of desperation in your voice, but you didn't care.

"He's gone, little," Joe said drily, looking up at you. He looked so defeated, and it broke your heart.

Still, your breath shuddered as the gravity of the situation hit you. Billy was gone. Really gone. You didn't ask Joe how he knew, just sank into a chair and blinked back the hot tears that stung your eyes. He'd kissed you, performed an act of love upon you and then left.

Joe took pity on you, putting his arms around you and hugging you tightly, despite the fact you knew he was hurting too. "I know," he said quietly. "I know."

He knew you missed him. You wanted him to come back. He didn't know what you and Billy had shared the night before, didn't know how truly his best friend had hurt you.

You clutched at Joe and let a tear slip down your cheek, coming to terms with it all. It was likely you'd never see him again.

And in that moment, you felt the last threads of the childhood you'd been grasping at slip into the darkness. It was quiet, which was somehow worse than screaming.

You gathered the papers on the desk, stacking them neatly in a pile and putting your pen down. Being hunched over a desk all day was certainly draining, and you knew some fresh air would be just the thing. It was a springy June day, and you'd been yearning to escape the confines of your work as long as you'd been awake.

The house was quiet, as it'd been for months. Joe, as a way to make a little more money, had joined Jesse's gang, assuring you it was temporary. You'd let him go; confident you could handle things at the ranch by yourself. And you were right. Things were smooth, the banality of it all welcome after the tumultuous few years you'd had.

Jesse's gang was stationed at a hideaway not terribly far from the ranch, but far enough that you didn't go often, preferring that Joe come to you. You always felt like you were walking into the lion's den when you visited, the stares of men who hadn't had women for a long while fixed on you.

So, you stayed. And everything was fine.

You mused to yourself as you left the house, saddling your horse and meandering aimlessly into the trees. The sun was hitting your skin just right, and you tilted your head back, enjoying the warmth. You stopped in a little grove you were fond of, tying your horse and wandering around as you were wont to do.

Coming across a wildflower, you bent and picked it, tucking it behind your ear. There was nobody to see how the blue looked against your hair, but you did it anyway, liking how the gesture felt.

As your eyes caught the other flowers scattered in the grass, your mind wandered to the day on the hill. When he'd picked and given you a flower that looked just like the one behind your ear. You thought of Billy often, sometimes in anger, sometimes in sadness. But today he was only a memory, something nice you got to hold for a little while but was forced to let go of.

You hoped he was well. You always would.

It was unclear how long you'd stayed out when you decided to go back, but that was the beauty of living on your own. You were on your time.

Maybe you'd be able to do some reading tonight, you pondered as you rode back, your horse trotting contently. Fun reading, not ranch reading. You looked forward to the quiet evening in store, happy at the thought of having some time for yourself.

You reached the threshold of the ranch and saw instantly that your plans had been set aflame. Literally.

Flames licked at the walls of your childhood house, consuming the only home you'd ever known. You watched in horror, hands gripping the reins, as a group of bandanaed men, hats pulled low over their faces, rounded up horses and cattle, effectively stealing your livelihood.

You were frozen, eyes wide with fear. Nonononononononono.

One of the men, wearing a blue bandanna, spotted you, and your mind realized it before your body did, so your actions were too slow. You tried to tug at the reins of your horse, but the man was already running toward you, grabbing the saddle and dragging you off.

You screamed, hoping against hope that someone nearby would hear. it was a shot in the dark. Nobody lived less than twenty miles away. The man clapped a hand over your mouth, silencing you and pulling you a little way from your horse. One of his companions, whose bandanna was red, came over to investigate, looking you over with something in his eyes you did not appreciate.

"What do we have here, eh?" he grinned, and you struggled, whimpering in protest, the other man holding your hands behind your back.

"We could probably do somethin' with her too," Blue said, leaning over to study your face. "Pretty little thing ain't she?"

"Don't suppose we could take a turn with her first?" Red wondered.

"They won't know the difference," Blue shrugged.

Red's grin grew terrifyingly wider, and he reached out, hands running over your sides, stopping at your breasts. "Yeahh, she'll work great."

Your breath quickened as you realized what they wanted to do with you, and you acted before you could think about it. You kicked the Red between his legs, sending him sprawling backwards, and used that distraction to bend your knee, lifting your leg backwards and doing the same to the Blue. He groaned in pain, letting go of your hands, and you stumbled to your horse, mounting her and kicking her into a run.

Your horse galloped across the prairie, the wind blowing your hair back, hot tears running in rivers down your cheeks as you charged to the only place you knew you could go.

You had to stop to sleep at one point, and it was a restless night hidden in the trees. For food you stole berries from the bushes, thankful for your childhood that'd taught you which ones were good. You used your hands to scoop water from the creek.

Mercifully, you made it through the night without being kidnapped, and continued on to Jesse's hideaway, making it there about mid- afternoon. Your legs were sore from being atop a horse for hours, but you were afraid to stop longer than you had to.

At last, you could see the hideaway over the hill, and you rode desperately, stealing through the entrance. You could see a man standing at the water pump, and you prayed it was Joe, or even Jesse, someone. You jumped from your horse, tying her up on a fence post and running to him.

As you got closer, you could see it wasn't Joe or Jesse, but you kept moving toward him. Even if it was a new recruit, he could tell you when your brother would be back. You could pick out his features the closer you got, his dark hair, his tall build. The man heard you approaching and turned to face you, his eyes widening when he saw who you were.

You halted in your tracks, a few yards away from him, your heart beating a steady rhythm against your breast, both from the ride and the shock.

"You're so beautiful", you remembered, the words echoing through the hallowed halls of your memory. "I never thought anyone could be this beautiful."

He took a careful step toward you. "Daisy?"

The name only he'd ever called you on his lips after forever of not seeing him was the breaking point, and you burst into tears, running into his arms.

Billy held you against his chest, his arms secure around your shaking body. He whispered soothing things to you as you cried and clung to him like a lifeline. He dug his nose into your hair, kissing the top of your head. As he did, you wondered if it was a way of comforting you, or a gesture because he'd missed you. Maybe it was both.

"Shh, Daisy," he soothed, one arm around your waist, rubbing your back, the other at the back of your head, holding you to him. "You're gonna make yourself faint. Deep breaths now, c'mon."

He demonstrated for you, breathing in deep through his chest, the motion moving your body with him. You copied him, feeling your heart rate slow down and your mind clear a little, giving you refuge from the utter panic that'd been raging for the past twenty-four hours.

"That's it, just like that," he muttered, running his hand through your hair. "Everything's alright, you're safe. I've gotcha."

You let yourself relax into him, breathing softly for a moment and savoring him. You'd missed Billy, you knew that. But being in his arms again reminded you just how much. The envelope you thought you'd thrown away was torn open.

"You wanna tell me what's got ya so upset now?" Billy murmured against you, rocking you back and forth slightly, still holding you tight to him.

Taking in a shuddering breath, you pulled back slightly, looking up at him. He lifted a hand and caught a tear that had trembled its way down your cheek. "It's alright Daisy. You can tell me."

"Another gang," you choked, remembering everything. "They set the house on fire. Took all the horses 'n cattle. There's nothing left..." At that last part, your voice went high and trailed off as a fresh wave of tears cascaded down your face. Billy paled, his eyes widening.

"Oh Daisy." He squeezed you tight to him, letting you cry. "Daisy, Daisy...'m so sorry. Musta been awful..." Billy pressed his lips to your hair again. "'S okay. You're safe now."

You stood there with him, realizing his arms were the only thing in the world that could comfort you. You never wanted to leave the safety of them. Oh, how you'd missed them, missed him.

"You left me Billy," you breathed, unable to help it.

"I know sweetheart," he said, the term of endearment slipping from his lips as if he'd always said it. It warmed your heart.

"You left Joe too."

"I did."

"We needed you."

"I needed you too," was his quiet response. You looked up from his chest, searching his eyes when suddenly you heard a voice behind you.

"Who's this?" When you turned to see who it was, through teary eyes you saw a woman with brown hair holding a pot standing a few feet away. You found her rather pretty, but still furrowed your brow, confused. Joe had never mentioned a woman around, and you'd certainly never seen her before.

Billy told the woman your name, and maybe it was your imagination, but his arms seemed to stiffen a bit around you, holding you in closer. "Her brother's Joe."

"Ah, I see," the woman said, eyeing you. You gave her a little smile, not really in any position to meet new people. Still, you wanted to be friendly. It wasn't her fault you were homeless.

"Daisy this is Barbara," Billy said, nodding at the woman, who was still studying you. Her eyes lingered on the way you clung to Billy, seeming to pick up on the familiarity between the two of you.

"Hello," you said shyly, still wary of letting go of Billy. He didn't seem to mind, running his hand soothingly through your hair.

She didn't say hello back.

Billy looked up into the distance, and you heard the distinct sound of several hooves on the earth. The gang was back.

You let go of Billy and turned to watch them ride down the hill, spotting Joe instantly among them. Jesse was at the head, whooping and hollering as was usual. Billy kept a protective hand on your shoulder as the gang dismounted, seeming to know without you telling that you didn't exactly feel safe around most of them.

Joe ran up as soon as he saw you, pulling his bandana down. "What're you doin' here little?" Then he saw the tear tracks on your face. "What happened?"

He held out his arms and you fell into him. Joe hugged you tightly, albeit confusedly. "You shouldn't be here, you oughtta head back home-"

"Ain't no home to head back to Joe," Billy cut him off, folding his arms, his eyes on you.

Joe looked down at you, frowning. "What's he mean?"

You told him what happened, and his face fell. Even if he'd been absent lately, he'd grown up in the same house, held the same memories you did. He hugged you again. "I'm sorry you had to see that, little."

You sniffled, shaking your head. "I'm just glad I got away in time."

"Me too," Joe said, concernedly looking over you for injuries. "Ride over was alright? Didn't hit any trouble?"

"No," you shook your head again. "I had to stop and sleep, but when I rode in Billy was right there and-"

You'd looked over at Billy as you said it, but you cut yourself off when you saw his face. He wasn't watching you anymore. His eyes were on Barbara, who was in the middle of a nice long kiss with Jesse.

That look. You knew it not only because you'd spent half your life reading him, but because you'd felt it before, when you'd seen him flirt harmlessly with girls in the town you grew up. Jealousy. And a tinge of heartbreak. Mixed with that, hidden slightly beneath that was something else. Another thing you'd seen before. That slight, subtle look of possession.

You'd only seen it one time, and that time happened to be a certain night by the fireplace, right after something you'd only dreamed of sharing with him before.

And that's when it hit you.

He'd slept with her.

Billy had offered you his room, but you'd refused, opting to wait in Joe's for him. You didn't want to look at Billy right now.

When your brother finally came in, you sat up straight, looking at him expectantly. He held up a dress. "Took a bit of convincing, but this is one of Barbara's. You can wash the one you're wearing." He scratched his neck. "Me 'n some of the boys'll go back to the house 'n see if there's anything to salvage in a bit. Just in case."

You took it from him, holding it in your lap. It was blue, not the most flattering but you didn't care.

"Any news?" you asked softly, looking up at him.

"We sent a letter," Joe said, sitting down next to you. "All there's to do now is wait. But don't hold your breath. The law ain't fast around here."

"Thank goodness for you," you muttered, and he half-grinned, nudging your shoulder.

"Yeah, that's the way we like it," he said, looking down at his hands.

You were quiet for a moment before you asked, "When did Billy get here?"

Joe hesitated. "'Bout a week ago. Jesse found him passed out in the desert. Left him here with Barbara to get him healthy again while we rode out." He looked up at you. "I was gonna tell you."

"It's okay," you said, meaning it. "There wasn't any time to tell me between you leaving and...this." A familiar wave of grief passed over you as you thought about everything again. "When did Barbara join the gang? I've never seen her before."

"Jesse found her two months back," Joe explained. "Took a real liking to her. She was runnin' away from her folks. Seems they ain't nice people."

"And Barbara and Jesse're...?" you let your question trail off.

Joe laughed. "Yeah. If what I hear through the walls is any indication."

"Ah." You didn't tell Joe what you knew about her and Billy, even though hearing this confused you. Billy must have slept with her while the rest of the gang was gone. Joe wouldn't know why it had any significance to you.

Joe nodded, putting his hand on your shoulder. "You can stay here for a while, little, until we get things figured out. I'm sure Barbara'd be happy to have some help 'round here."

You weren't too sure Barbara would be happy to have anything to do with you at all, but you didn't tell Joe this, instead forcing a smile and nodding. "Okay."

"Good," Joe said, standing up from the bed, the loss of his weight making the springs creak. "I'll leave ya to get changed." He shut the door behind him.

You peeled your short-sleeved dress from your body, also in a light blue color. It'd been one of your favorites, and you were thankful it'd been spared from the fire.

Barbara's dress fit you well. It wasn't as stylish as yours, but that was the furthest thing from your mind. At least it was clean.

You took your dress outside to wash, scrubbing it of dirt and sweat and whatever else you'd encountered on the way over. When it was hanging out to dry, you wandered to a nearby tree, leaning against it and looking out at the plains for a moment. It was a sunny day, and you enjoyed it the best you could despite the circumstances.

The tree's branches were low enough for climbing, so you hauled yourself up, legs swinging as you sat on a branch midway from the top, leaning against the trunk. The bark was scratchy against your skin, but you paid the sensation no mind, just staring at the clear sky.

Footsteps crunched through the grass below you. You didn't turn your head to see who it was. Call it a sixth sense but you always knew when he was near.

Billy scaled the tree to sit on the same branch, leaning back on another one just a little higher than yours. Of course he'd want to talk to you.

"Joe 'n the others left for the house," he said, but you didn't turn your head, still watching the clouds.

"I didn't stay to see how far the fire got," you said quietly. "I don't know if there's anything worth saving."

"Still." Billy shifted. "They'll be back tomorrow mornin'."

You turned your body to face his, so your back was fully against the trunk. In your frenzy earlier, you hadn't gotten a good look at him. He'd grown in his time away from you. He seemed sturdier, surer of himself. His hair was a little bit longer, his skin a little more weathered. And he was handsomer than ever. "You didn't go with 'em?"

"They figured I'd best not show my face 'round those parts just in case," he said, half smiling. "Y'know, cause of last time I was there."

You were quiet, still looking at him, and his smile dropped. "You don't know."

"Last time I saw you was when we..." you trailed off, biting your lip. "You didn't tell me anything, just-"

"I'm sorry for that, Daisy," he mumbled, looking at his feet.

"Sorry for sleeping with me?" you asked, your voice's tone heightening pathetically.

"No," Billy shook his head instantly. "Not that...never that. I'm sorry for takin' advantage of you. For not tellin' you what was goin' on."

"What happened?" you asked, your voice desperate. You looked at him with all the hurt that had festered in your being for months. "You slept with me and then left. I was so worried..." your breath hitched, and you looked away.

"Daisy," he murmured, reaching for your hand, but you moved it to your face, running a hand over it. Billy sighed, and you could feel it, the weight of whatever he'd done, wherever he'd been. "The night before...Jesse'd-" he cut himself off for a moment. "Jesse'd talked me into doin' somethin' real stupid. Somethin' that got me arrested. I'd escaped from jail the night I came to see you."

You turned to look at him, your eyes wide. Given the ranch had been a little way from town, you didn't often hear of news like that, mostly keeping to yourself. Of course you wouldn't have known. "Billy..."

"I'm a wanted man, Daisy," Billy breathed, his blue eyes piercing yours. "I've been in another county for a while, and then I got into some more trouble and left. Got robbed somewhere in the desert and Jesse found me 'n brought me here. That's all there is to it." He brought his hand to your face, then through your hair so he was holding you there. The feeling of his big hand there was familiar, comforting.

You sniffled a bit, closing your eyes for a moment to feel it. Everything made sense now. The way he'd come to you, the reason he'd left. But it'd still hurt you.

"That night," you said softly, your eyes still glued to his. You couldn't have pulled away if you tried. "What we did...did it...mean anything to you?"

"Yeah," he whispered, his eyes earnest. "Of course it did Daisy...I'd never..." he swallowed. "You've been on my mind a whole lot since I left."

His words made your heart soar with hope, but then you remembered Barbara, and it plummeted back to earth. The realization lowered your voice. "I've thought about you too Billy."

"Yeah?" he asked, eyes hopeful.

"Yeah." You looked down. "I missed you."

Billy wordlessly moved closer to you on the branch, drawing you into his arms. He kept his hand in your hair, his favorite place it seemed. He held you to him for a bit, and you relaxed for the first time in a day.

Holding you against him still, he asked, "What exactly happened at the ranch Daisy?"

"I already told you." Your words were muffled against his chest.

"Yeah, but I know that ain't all that happened," Billy said, pulling you back a little so he could look at you. "I know you. There's somethin' else."

You thought with a tiny shudder of the men who'd grabbed you, and what they would have done to you if you hadn't gotten away. "No. I told you everything."

"Daisy." His voice was firm, and you knew he meant it.

"Billy," you said back, leaning into his chest again. "I don't want to talk about it."

He was quiet for a moment, then he nodded. "Okay." You were thankful he didn't ask any more questions.

You spent the night in Joe's room since he was absent, and all the while you thought about Billy. And Barbara. Was she in his bed right now, or was he in hers? Would you wake up to the sounds of them doing something you didn't even want to think about? Eventually you fell asleep, tortured by what you'd make up.

When you woke in the morning, you donned your dress that had dried out over the porch yesterday and went outside, looking for anyone. You spotted Barbara at the water pump and made your way over, standing shyly in front of her. "Hello."

She looked at you, giving you a once over that seemed to be her habit. "Hello."

"Is there anything I can help you with?" you asked, fidgeting with your hands behind your back. She intimidated you, and it wasn't just because you knew about her and Billy. There was a certain element about her that caused you to retreat into your shyer tendencies.

Barbara paused for a moment, thinking. "You can fry the eggs in the kitchen for the three of us. And wake Billy. He's a deep sleeper."

You knew that, and for some reason it hurt that she did. Nodding, you turned around and went right back to the house, slightly bothered by your interaction with her.

When you got to the kitchen you decided to make the eggs first, hoping the smell would rouse Billy from sleep. When the food was plated and he still hadn't appeared, you sighed and went to his bedroom, the only door that was closed.

He was shirtless as he slept, lying on his stomach with his head turned to the side. The sheets were pulled to his waist, revealing the messy outline of his legs. Billy looked pretty when he was asleep, but you always thought him pretty.

You sat on the bed, contemplating lying down with him. in your experience shaking him rarely, if ever worked. Still, you tried, and unsurprisingly it was not successful.

So, you went with your other idea lying down facing him. Your hand reached out to trace your fingers down his arm. He took in a sharp breath, and instantly you knew he was awake. Billy's arms reached out, wrapping around your waist and pulling you into his chest. "Daisy," he murmured without opening his eyes.

"You gotta wake up Billy," you said softly, putting a hand on his warm chest. He opened his eyes, almost seeming surprised that you were there.

"'M I dreamin'?" he mumbled sleepily, and you smiled, shaking your head.

"Don't think so." You ran your fingers up and down his arm again. He'd filled out, his muscles were tauter.

He shook his head, seeming to remember something. "Right." Billy loosened his hold on you, but still didn't let go.

His hair was a mess, little dark curls matting his forehead. Your eyes roved over him, catching all the familiar details you'd picked up on from your years together. The way his hair curled by his ears. The tiny birthmark under his jaw. His thick, dark eyelashes.

You ached to touch him, but you didn't, letting him hold you a little longer before you heard the front door open. Barbara was back. Sitting up, you rubbed his shoulder. "C'mon, get up. We've got eggs."

Billy grumbled a bit, pawing at you. "Couple more minutes?"

"Uh uh, get up," you said, getting off the bed and leaving, shutting the door behind you.

Barbara was in the kitchen when you came back, eating already. She nodded at you. "Thanks."

You gave her a tiny smile. "You're welcome. Least I can do for you lettin' me stay."

She half smiled dryly at you. "It'd be a sorry sight if I kicked Joe's sister out."

You didn't know what to say to that, so you were thankful when Billy walked in, wearing a blue striped shirt. It was one of your old favorites, and you wondered if he'd known that. Likely not.

"Thanks Daisy," he said, grabbing his portion. You all lingered in the kitchen, eating quietly, the only sound being forks scraping against plates.

Barbara put her clean plate on the counter first. "I'm gonna go finish chores. Billy? You comin'?"

He paused. "I was gonna take Daisy for a ride. That okay or do ya need help?"

She looked from him to you, and you looked down at your plate, not knowing if you should say something. "No. That's alright, I'll manage."

And with that she left the kitchen. You looked over at Billy. "Are you sure she doesn't need help?"

"Nah, all this week by the time I got up she usually had everything mostly done," Billy said, putting the last forkful of eggs in his mouth.

"Are you sure?" you asked nervously, looking at the door she'd gone out of. "I'd feel bad if-"

"Daisy, it's alright," Billy assured you, seeing your empty plate and taking it, stacking it on Barbara's. "After what you've been through, you're allowed to have a day, alright? 'Specially if your work habits haven't changed since I last saw you."

You smiled at that. "I do kinda get carried away."

"I know," he said, taking your hand. "C'mon, let's go. I miss ridin' with you."

You let him pull you to the horses, unable to say no to him, but also because you'd missed it too.

Mounting your beloved horse, you petted her mane softly. She must've been tired after the long ride here, but now after a good night's sleep she nickered softly at your touch, and you smiled fondly.

You guided your horse to follow Billy's, riding through the open hills and into a forest-like area, with trees and wildflowers blooming from the earth. It was beautiful, and you enjoyed your surroundings as you followed him. It was funny to think that just a day ago you'd been doing this exact thing, with no hope of seeing him again. But now here you were.

Keeping to the routine the two of you had always followed, you tied up your horses and went to walk through the trees together.

"You still ride like this often or did I jump the gun and assume you did?" Billy asked, striding alongside you through the grass.

"I do, pretty often now that I-" you cut yourself off. "When I lived alone."

"You were really livin' by yourself?" Billy asked, peering down at you as you walked.

"Yeah," you said. "Since Joe joined the gang."

"I see," Billy said, keeping his tone even. But you knew he objected to the principle of it. A woman living alone with no male protection.

"I've been fine," you said, trying to convince both of you. "I keep to myself, y'know? I've always liked that."

"Yeah," he said. His eyes looked sad. "But I imagine it still got lonely."

You were quiet for a moment before responding. "In a way."

He half smiled, looking down as you reached a hill, steadying his motions so he wouldn't fall. "Is that what you've been up to the past little bit? Ridin' and bookkeepin'?"

"Pretty much," you said. "I keep a quiet life. Not like you at all, I'm sure."

He chuckled lightly. "It ain't at all like you're imagining, I'm sure."

"Not from what I've heard," you smiled. "Joe filled me in a bit. Billy the Kid, huh?"

"Hey now," he grinned. "It's William H. Bonney now for all intents and purposes."

"What's the H stand for?" you asked, raising your eyebrows teasingly.

"That's enough outta you," he pushed your arm lightly, and you laughed. The two of you stopped under a tree, sitting down in the shade for a bit. Billy settled in next to you, bending down and resting his chin on your shoulder.

You picked a blue wildflower, twirling the stem between your fingers. It was the same color as the dress you'd been loaned, lighter than the one you had on now, lighter than Billy's shirt. "Barbara..."

"What about her?" he asked, looking at you, his chin remaining on your shoulder.

"I like her," you said, and to your surprise, as you said it you found it was true. Despite her stiffness you appreciated what she'd been through, how she'd been able to find her place here.

"You like everyone Daisy," Billy half-smiled, leaning back against the tree.

"I mean it," you said, mirroring his actions and turning on your side to face him. "She's lovely. I can see why you...like her."

"Why'd you say it like that?" Billy asked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You were quiet for a moment, contemplating whether or not you should go there. "I know you slept with her."

He turned his head fully to face you and you looked down at your flower again. Billy used his finger to tilt your chin up. "Daisy how'd you-?"

"The way you looked when she kissed Jesse yesterday," you said softly. "I know you Billy. And that's just how you looked at me after..." You trailed off and looked away.

Billy's arm around you stiffened, but he didn't take it away. "You're right. It did happen once. But...I dunno Daisy," he said tiredly. "I was alone with her after I almost died. The heat of the moment got to me. I didn't know she was with Jesse. And now that you're here-" he paused. "It don't mean what you think it does."

You shook your head. "You're not one to even kiss someone for no reason Billy. I know you care about her."

"She saved my life, of course I care about her," he breathed, meeting your eyes. "But not like you, Daisy. Never like you."

You looked down, feeling emotional. "But you left me."

"Daisy, I had to," he pleaded. "I was wanted, hell I'm still wanted-"

"But you could have told me something, anything instead of making me feel like a warm body," you said, drawing back from him. His arm fell from around you, and he looked at you for a moment, seeming surprised.

But then he nodded somberly. "You're right. You're completely right Daisy. I'm sorry."

Your smile was barely there. "I understand Billy."

Then with that you stood up, going to find your horse.

Joe returned with more than you thought he would have, telling you the fire had consumed a lot of the first floor but not the second. With no structure to stand up on, it had collapsed of course, but he was still able to salvage a few of your dresses, and some of your books.

You'd been thrilled at that, relieved to be able to give Barbara her dress back, thanking her profusely. She'd only smiled tightly and taken it away to wash.

Joe had been right about the law being slow. A week from the fire and you had yet to hear back from them concerning the damage to the property. So, in the meantime, you waited.

In the weeks that followed, you insisted on helping Barbara with the chores and she reluctantly let you. You took your horse out for a ride every day, sometimes without Billy, but more often with.

He started leaving with the gang to help out on jobs. You were surprised to find yourself missing him in the time he was gone. Since Joe was back, he offered you his bed, but you didn't take him up on it, still wary of whatever was happening with Barbara. No matter how casual it may or may not have been, you didn't want to upset her. Even though you could steadily feel old feelings gnawing at you, growing stronger.

You tried to keep a little distance, but it was impossible, his allure drawing you to him naturally. He'd accompany you everywhere; to the well, on your rides. Wherever you were, Billy could usually be found. You knew the rest of the gang noticed, though nobody commented on it. The weeks passed peacefully.

Until one night, when you awoke in a fit of adrenaline and sweat, a dream that felt more like a memory dancing in front of your eyes.

The men...the way they grabbed you...what they would have done to you...

You hugged your arms around yourself, shivering with tears. Even though you now knew it was just a dream, the weight of what had happened was collapsing you. You hadn't told anyone about it, even though you knew Billy was onto you.

Your head whipped to Joe, asleep in his bed. He'd offered it to you of course, but you'd declined just as you had with Billy, not wanting to upheave the house any more than you had.

Joe was the best of brothers to you. Still, you didn't want to tell him about the other events of that day. So, you stood up and went to the hallway, hoping the movement would calm your pounding heart. It didn't, which made you panic even more. You ran your hands over your arms, your breathing not slowing down. The house was quiet, so you did your best to keep it that way.

It became evident quickly that you wouldn't be able to calm yourself on your own. You needed someone near you.

Your feet carried you to the room before you knew it, opening the door and shutting it quietly behind you. When you turned, you were surprised to see Billy sitting up in his bed, the lantern by his bed lit. He frowned in surprise when he saw you. "Daisy, what-" he caught your fearful expression, your heaving chest. Then he opened his arms, recognizing the situation. "C'mere."

Giving a little whimper, you rushed to him, collapsing into his arms. Billy held you tight to him, and when his hand found its usual place behind your head you nearly sobbed with relief. He opened his knees so you could lie between them, against his bare chest as you cried softly.

"Shh Daisy, easy, easy," he murmured, smoothing his hand over your back. "Alright sweetheart, you're safe. You're safe. I've gotcha."

It was the second time he'd used that specific term of endearment, and you clung to him tighter because of it. Billy rubbed your back and rested his cheek against the top of your head. When your crying slowed down, he whispered, "Atta girl, keep it steady f'me? That's it, sweetheart, that's it."

You laid in the comfort of his arms in a haze afterwards, making sure your tizz was well and truly passed. Billy turned you on your side, facing him as he turned on his. He held you in his gaze, one of his arms wrapped loosely under you, the other on your arm, fingers going up and down in a soothing manner.

He reached out that hand, tentatively, and traced your face ever so gently. His roughened finger trailed over your cheek, your hairline, then down your nose. His eyes like the sky followed the path. His palm ended up on your cheek, and you leaned into it, your eyes locked with his.

"Daisy..." he murmured, his thumb rubbing your cheek. You knew he wanted you to tell him what had happened, why you had stumbled in crying.

"Bad dream," you whispered pathetically, closing your eyes.

Billy said nothing for a moment, and when you opened your eyes, he touched his forehead to yours briefly, a gesture of comfort that worked. "What about?"

You hesitated, sniffling lightly. Telling him sounded dreadful, but it was weighing on you so much that you felt you had no choice. "The day of the fire."

"Ah," Billy nodded respectfully, tucking your hair behind your ear. The more he touched you the better you felt.

"Not about the fire itself though," you said softly.

"Hm?" he prompted, and you wanted to kiss him right then for letting you tell what you wanted.

You closed your eyes briefly before continuing. "The day of the fire...the men who started it..." your voice was becoming higher and more hysterical as you continued, your words pushed together as you tried to get them out as quickly as possible. "They grabbed me...tried to take me somewhere. And one of them touched me-" your voice hitched as more tears fell down your cheeks.

"Oh baby," Billy murmured, and he brought you closer to him, his lips meeting your forehead. Him calling you baby only made you feel safer, more loved. He gathered you closer, so you were pressed right up against him, your hand on his chest. If his hand hadn't already found its place on the back of your head, you would have guided it there. You loved the weight of it, the way it held your face to his chest.

Your hand slid around his chest, under his arm and onto his back so you could hold onto him as well. He nudged his nose against your head, planting another kiss there. Then another. Then another.

"I'm so sorry sweetheart," he muttered, and you relished the feeling of his big hands on your body with the sole purpose to comfort you. "I'm sorry nobody was there. I'm sorry I wasn't there-"

"It's not your fault Billy," you said, tears still adorning your voice. "You couldn't have known-"

"No, Daisy," he said slightly more firmly. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you all this time. I'm sorry I left, I'm sorry we shared something so special and then I hurt you because of it. I'm not sorry we did it, but I am sorry for how I was."

You removed your hand from his back, settling it on his own cheek. Your other hand was wedged between your chests, resting against the sheets. "It's okay Billy. It's all okay now."

He took your hand off his cheek and pressed his lips to your fingers. A wisp of a smile made its way onto your face, and you cuddled close to him. Billy held you tightly in his arms. In that moment, you felt as if he could keep the bad dreams away with only that.

From that night on, you slept in his bed.

You'd start out in your usual place on the floor in Joe's room. Then after you fell asleep, you'd slip from the spot and quietly sneak down the hall to Billy's bed and Billy's arms. There were no more nightmares after that.

It was all very innocent. You'd lay side by side, facing each other, limbs tangling tightly. He'd nudge a few kisses against your forehead soothingly. You'd take his hand in yours and guide it to the back of your head if it wasn't there already. And then the you both would fall asleep, nothing bad to report in the morning.

Billy had never been an early riser. He was always the last one to wake up, always finding some kind of excuse to sleep in. It was something you and Joe had teased him for.

But almost every morning you woke to him watching you, his oceans of eyes sleepy, his hair was a mess. He was so pretty in the morning, with the sunlight spilling through his window onto his skin. The first day this happened you realized that this was how you'd imagined you'd wake up on that night you'd spent together.

Those thoughts had been little bits of gold you'd stored in your heart, secrets you thought would die with you. But now they were real.

And even though most mornings he awoke first, some mornings you did.

On that rare occasion, you'd snuggle deeper into his arms, and he'd stir slightly, his arms tightening around you. But most of the time it was him, and you wondered if his habits had changed when he was away. But thinking back to your first morning here, you knew they hadn't.

On a Tuesday about two months into your stay, it was one of those usual mornings, and you were sprawled on your side, facing away from him. Your hair was spread out on the pillow, your legs tangled with his. You awoke to a shuffling on the bed, and then an arm twined around you and pulled you closer to Billy's warm chest.

"You're too far away," he mumbled sleepily. You turned in his arms to lie on your side and face him. Billy was on his back, looking down at you with a fond smile. He blinked sleepily, and you moved closer to him to rest your head on his shoulder, nuzzling your cheek onto him.

"Better?" you propped your chin up on his arm.

"Better," he grinned.

You were just about to settle back into him when the door opened suddenly to reveal Joe on the other side. His eyes widened in shock when he saw you cuddled in Billy's arms, in Billy's bed.

"The hell?" Joe looked utterly confused. A little betrayed, maybe.

Sitting up, you attempted to explain. "I know what this looks like-"

"Billy why're you in bed with my sister?" Joe folded his arms, eyebrows raised, tone sharp.

You looked from Joe to Billy, worried something violent would happen. But finally, Billy responded. "Daisy's been havin' nightmares. I was only makin' sure she slept."

"You have?" Joe frowned. "You ain't ever had many nightmares before little."

It was true. Before the incidents surrounding the fire, you hadn't even dreamed often. You didn't want to tell Joe what happened, but you couldn't lie to him. So, you merely nodded.

Joe's face softened. "'M sorry little. You coulda told me, y'know?"

You bit your lip and nodded again.

"But I understand," your brother affirmed, nodding at Billy. "So long as there's no funny business, yeah?"

"None," Billy nodded back. Despite all this, you knew Joe trusted Billy with you, which was saying a lot. Your brother had a habit of being overprotective.

Joe looked between the two of you again and nodded once more, leaving with that and shutting the door behind him. From that point on you went straight into Billy's room every night.

He became a symbol of comfort to you. You knew his arms were open when you needed them. Things fell back into the way they were before, only this time there was something else between you two.

You felt it in every facet of your being with him. When you'd go for walks in the hills together. When you'd wake up in his arms. When he'd shake a little pepper over your eggs before giving you your plate because he knew you liked them that way. When he'd join you under the shade of a tree and rest his head in your lap. Billy was filling in the cracks that had formed over the months. He was patching you whole.

It was unclear if anyone else noticed, but you knew they didn't not notice. The two of you were drawn together. When Billy would come home from jobs with the gang you'd run to him first. Joe would make a little quip about it before hugging you, a cheeky, knowing smile gracing his lips.

Barbara seemed immune to all of this. She continued as she always did, but you still felt bad, like you'd taken something from her. Even though the first person she'd run to was always Jesse.

You tried to let this information soothe you.

The ranch was finally attended to, and you and Joe made the decision to sell the land. It made you a pretty penny despite all the damage from the fire. That night you'd laid silently beside Billy, too sad to say anything. You'd grown up there, hell, Billy had practically grown up there too. But as you thought of the last somber months you'd spent there; you knew it hadn't been the land that made that time special.

You still had what had made it special.

Jesse became anxious about the location of the gang, so he determined it was time to leave the hideaway behind and set out for another town. You welcomed the change, packing away what little you had and following them.

If you were being honest, as long as you had Billy and Joe you knew you'd be fine. So, you left in good spirits. Barbara parted ways with the gang then, taking a job as a schoolteacher in another town. You knew the two of you would never be close, but you still parted with a smile, and a sincere thank you for all she'd done. Maybe it was your imagination, but her smile seemed a little more genuine as you said goodbye.

"People can't help but like ya Daisy," Billy said when you told him about it. He was riding alongside you behind everyone, the hideaway in the distance behind you. "You're sweet. Not likin' ya feels like hurtin' a butterfly."

The analogy made you smile, a little blush gracing your cheeks. The way he looked at you and talked to you made you feel rare.

Once you got to town, Joe came to a conclusion. While the rest of the gang kept rented rooms at a nearby inn, the two of you used the money from the ranch to buy a nice little piece of land nearby, with an old house already on it. You wouldn't have minded staying at the inn, but Joe insisted, saying he wanted something permanent for his sister. Especially now that they all had steady work. And unlike in the past, it was honest.

Billy seemed especially happy about that, chattering eagerly about how good it'd be now that they were working with the law, not against it. It was endearing how excited he was. Despite the picture wanted posters painted of him, he had a gentle heart, and he never wanted to do any wrong.

The only thing you didn't like about this new setting was that you no longer slept beside him, but your nightmares had disappeared into memories, and you determined you'd be fine. Even though you missed his warmth as the fall bled into winter.

He was still a fixture in your life. His presence was still constant. The gang was all at Joe's and your house often, but Billy was there individually even more.

It was a funny thing, what being around him so often did for you. Previously, you had remembered the childhood love you'd had for him, and it had been painted blue. But in the love you felt for him now, you could feel what you'd had before at the roots. It was a flower that you'd thought had shriveled up and died, but now you realized it was simply dormant, waiting to bloom.

And the more you thought about it, the more you realized you wanted it to.

It was on your mind one night when Joe and the gang were in the kitchen. You and Billy had ventured out to the fireplace, kneeling close to it and talking. It was eerily similar to that night, the one you'd thought of lately more often than you wanted to admit.

"Do ya think you'll stay here?" Billy wondered, bending his knees to rest his arms on them.

"I don't see why not," you said thoughtfully, his blue eyes drawing yours to them like they always did. "Joe's here, you're here...I can see myself being happy here."

"I think ya are happy here Daisy," Billy said, a little smile coming to his face as he said it. "I ain't seen you this happy in a while."

He was right. You hadn't been this content since your father died. "it's the same for you Billy," you commented, shifting closer to him for warmth. "You're not as restless as you used to be."

"Well, no," he said, grinning as he looked into the fire. "There's lotsa reasons for that."

"Like...?" you prompted, tilting your head playfully.

"Well for starters, I ain't breakin' the law to make money no more," Billy said, and you nodded. "There ain't no pressure to move around so much. But also..." he turned his head to look at you. "Havin' you around. Havin' Joe around. It's made all the difference."

You were quiet for a moment, the sentiment warming you more than the fire ever could. "Having me around?"

"'Course," he said, reaching out and tugging on your arm to bring you closer to him. One of his arms slid around your waist and you rested your head on his shoulder. "Ya mean a lot to me Daisy. Ya know that, right?"

"It's still nice to hear it," you smiled, settling into his side. "You...you mean a lot to me too. Always have."

"Yeah?" he looked pleasantly surprised. "Well, you're a sweetheart anyways. My sweetheart."

The way he said it implied something else, but you didn't correct him, only lifting your head from his shoulder and looking into his eyes again. The fire was reflecting off his face, making him look softer. You looked from his eyes to his lips. There was that magnetic draw again. "And are you mine?"

He paused, looking like he'd been caught doing something, but then he slowly nodded, searching your eyes. "I've always wanted to be yours."

Your heart fluttered and you thought for a moment you were in a dream. But when he brought his hand to your cheek, you knew you weren't.

Billy acted before you could, leaning forward and gently pressing his lips to yours. His hand slid to its spot in your hair. You melted.

His kiss was brief, but it imprinted itself on your being. You leaned into it, your hand resting on his chest as your lips moved against his. It was so impossible, all of it, and yet.

When he pulled back, you stayed in your haven between his arms. He pressed one, then two light kisses against your soft smile and you saw stars.

Then Joe shouted something from the other room and Billy looked up, sighing and shaking his head. He stood up, bringing you with him. His lips found your brow lightly, a silent promise that you'd talk about this later. Then he took your hand and lead you into where everyone else was. It was good he had a hold on you, because you weren't sure you could have found your way there on your own. The kiss had left you engrossed in a dreamy haze.

He sat at the table with everyone else, and when he saw there weren't any open chairs, pulled you down to sit on his thigh. Joe raised an eyebrow, but that was all. You were content to lean against Billy for the rest of the night.

It was hard to sleep when you tried after everyone left. Billy hadn't kissed you goodbye, but he'd held you close for a bit and said he'd see you tomorrow.

All these months, all this time, you hadn't been sure if he'd held onto the feelings of the past. But you supposed it didn't matter now, because he felt this way right now. He wanted you close to him as you did.

The next day you woke early. You decided to get a few errands done as a way to divert yourself. You'd see Billy later.

It was a pleasant ride into town. The winter sun was warm on your bundled up frame, and you enjoyed it. The snowstorms of late had often kept you indoors, so it was nice to have this pocket of time.

You tied up your horse and went into the general store, a list prominent in your head. Grain, candles, matches-

You halted in your tracks when you opened the door.

There were already customers inside. But you recognized them.

"Don't suppose we could take a turn with her first?" Red wondered.

"They won't know the difference," Blue shrugged.

Red's grin grew terrifyingly wider, and he reached out, hands running over your sides, stopping at your breasts. "Yeahh, she'll work great."

Before one of them could turn around and see you, you stepped out, heart pounding a hole into your chest. Your ears were ringing with the memory. The world seemed to spin. Why are they here? How did they get here?

Putting a hand to your heart to try and calm it, you looked around, spotting the inn the gang was staying at. Billy, you needed Billy.

You ran across the street, opening the door and realizing you didn't know which room he was staying in. As you wandered in frantically you found it didn't matter. He was sitting at a table with Charlie, talking about something, his back to you.

Charlie saw you though, and must have noticed your distress, because he nudged Billy, nodding at you. Billy turned around, and instantly stood, meeting you halfway and gathering you into his arms. "Daisy, Daisy, what happened? What's the matter?"

He sounded concerned, and you thanked the heavens for him. Your ear was against his heart, the steady thumping soothing you almost immediately. "They're...they're here," you mumbled weakly

"Who's here Daisy?" His hand. His hand on your head. It felt like it could shield you from everything.

You lifted your head, but his hand stayed there. Your breathing was still frantic. "The men...from the fire..."

His eyes darkened. "Where?"

"The general store," you breathed, and he gritted his teeth, looking up at the window. You tugged at his shirt. It was the striped one, the one you'd confessed to him you loved.

He looked back at you, his eyes softening. Then he moved, setting you on the chair he'd been sitting in previously, kneeling in front of you. "I need you to stay here, alright? I don't want you to ride back without me." Billy looked up, at someone behind you and summoned them. "Mrs. Peña?"

An older Mexican woman bristled over, and Billy said something to her in Spanish. She looked at you, looking confused as she responded. He nodded, squeezing your hand and saying something back.

Over the years of knowing him, you'd only picked up on a little Spanish, jealous of his ability to learn the language so easily. As Billy and Mrs. Peña conversed; you only caught a few words. Scared, safe, needs, help.

The older woman gave Billy a fond smile and nodded. He returned it, then turned his attention back to you. He kissed the fingers of the hand he was still holding. "You're gonna stay here, okay? Mrs. Peña and her husband own the inn. They're gonna keep an eye out for you."

"What are you going to do?" you whispered, your eyes wide in horror as you sifted through possibilities.

"Don't pay any mind to it," he said, squeezing your hand from where he was kneeling still. "I won't be long."

And with that, he stood up, kissed your forehead, and beckoned to Charlie, who followed him out the door. Your breaths were still fast as you watched him leave, and then you turned to Mrs. Peña. She gave you a warm smile and took your hand. You accepted it, stood up, and followed her to the kitchen, to a chair close to the sink. She gestured at it. "Sit."

You did as she asked, watching her flit around, preparing and sorting. Trying to remember the right words, you asked her in very broken Spanish if there was anything you could do to help.

She smiled and shook her head, motioning for you to stay. But you insisted. "¿Por favor?"

Mrs. Peña seemed to understand that you needed a distraction, so she took pity on you, waving you over to where she was sorting vegetables.

Billy didn't return for several hours, and so you accompanied Mrs. Peña, helping her with anything she'd let you. She spoke a little English, and you a little Spanish, so you managed. She was a very warm lady, and you felt bad for burdening her, telling her so as you helped her fold sheets in the empty front room that evening. But she shook her head, patting your hand fondly. "Eres una chica dulce."

That made you smile.

It was dark when they came back. You were surprised to see it wasn't just Billy and Charlie, but the entirety of the gang, including Joe. Mrs. Peña gave your hand another pat, and took the folded sheets away, leaving you with everyone. Billy stopped her and whispered something to her that she nodded and smiled at.

You stood up, and Joe came over, putting his arms around you and hugging you for a long time. He smiled sadly when he pulled back. "It's all okay now, little." He looked over at Billy, nodding. "Reckon you'll wanna stay here tonight. I'll bring your horse back." Joe kissed your forehead and left.

The interaction was confusing but touching. You watched your brother leave, questions swirling through your mind like a flurry. Then you turned and looked at Billy, who reached a hand out for you. "C'mere Daisy."

Of course you went to him, his fingers intertwining with yours as he pulled you upstairs to his room. He shut the door behind you and locked it. It was only then that you noticed his knuckles were stained with dry blood.

Gasping in horror, you took the other one in your free hand, holding them up to examine them. "Billy...Billy what did you do?"

He shook his head, trying to reassure you. "It's not all my blood."

That only worried you further. "What on earth were you doing?"

Billy sighed, looking down for a second, reluctant to tell you. "We took care of the men who started the fire. You ain't gotta worry 'bout them anymore Daisy."

"What do you mean you took care of them?" you asked desperately.

He shook his head again, more firmly this time. "That's not for you to know. But it's all okay. You're safe now. That's all that matters."

You wanted to push the issue, but you realized there was probably a reason he wasn't telling you. So, you gave up. "Okay."

Billy pulled you to sit on his bed, your knees touching, and just watched you, checking for any hint of distress. "How're ya doing Daisy?"

Surprisingly, you found your token answer to be correct. "I'm okay."

He smiled briefly in acknowledgement. "Good. I want ya to be okay."

There was a comfortable quiet for a moment between you two. You didn't want to look at anything but him, didn't want to be anywhere else but here. Right now, he was your center, the very thing keeping you from floating into the sky.

Billy's hand moved to your hips, pulling you in closer. His eyes found yours as he said, "I want you to know I'm always gonna protect ya. You have Joe but ya also have me. You've always had me."

"Always," you repeated softly, and he smiled. His other hand reached up to tuck some of your hair back.

"Daisy..." he started, and you felt it. That fluttering, that warmth in your chest that he only seemed to be the cause of. "Did ya know I've always loved you?"

You tilted your head, waiting for him to explain, ignoring the butterflies sprouting in your heart.

He smiled in a nostalgic way. "You were a friend. A good friend. But I woke up one day and ya just...weren't that anymore."

"How long?" you whispered.

"Years, Daisy," he brought both his hands to your cheeks. "Years 'n years. Dunno if you remember awhile back, but me 'n Joe were comin' back from doin' somethin' in town, trouble probably." He paused to smile, shaking his head. "You were up in the branches of a tree, readin'. Looked real pretty. Think ya had a flower in your hair." Billy breathed a laugh, looking down for a second. "Mighta been a daisy. 'N ya looked up, smiled at me. And I knew I'd love ya forever."

Your lips parted slightly at the confession, and you felt a sweet smile spreading over your face. A light laugh of disbelief escaped you, and you pulled him in, kissing him softly. He made a noise of surprise but indulged, his hands falling from your face to your waist, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you close.

"I remember that day," you said honestly, looking up at him when your lips parted. "Because a few hours later you asked me to go for a ride and you pulled me off my horse and not only did we fall down the hill, but I fell in love with you."

His smile was radiant, and you didn't need to ask if he remembered. Billy pulled you back in, kissing you fervently. He loved you. You could feel it. No need to wonder anymore. His kisses felt like a promise. I will always love you.

For hours after, there was nothing else but him.

Nothing but him as he kissed you like you were disappearing.

Nothing but him as he lowered you down onto his bed and slid the sleeves of your dress down your arms.

Nothing but him as he took his time, holding you so gently it made your head spin.

Nothing but him as he dipped his head briefly between your thighs, making your back arch and your hand squeeze around his. He'd given it to you to hold because he loved you.

Nothing but him as you and him did something you'd only done once before, but this time he wasn't going to leave.

Nothing but him as you did something you'd done many times before, nestling between his arms as you fell asleep.

When the morning came you knew it was far from the last one you'd have like this, but you savored it anyways, burrowing into his chest and hiding from the world. He peppered sweet kisses over your face, asking how you'd slept, asking for five more minutes before you both had to get up. And so you gave them to him. And five more minutes. And then another five minutes.

Because you were finally his. And he was finally yours.

#billy the kid #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid x you #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid imagines #william h bonney imagines #william h bonney fanfiction #william h bonney x you #william h bonney x reader #milliesfishes billy #Spotify

[wishingeel]

Alright... so for whatever ungodly reason I’ve been putting off finally watching RWBY volume 9 (despite waiting with anticipation for SO long), and... dang. Like DANG. I’m gonna need to stare at a wall for a while.

#it was SO good but SO intense #those content warnings were NOT kidding around #i always said i'd love to see new mods of the old vol 1-3 characters (like roman ozpin pyrrha etc) #BUT NOT LIKE THAT #and literally got to see my boy (oscar) ONCE AND IT WAS AWFUL DEAR GOD #(i mean good story/quality just awful bc OUCH that was painful to watch) #i'm okay i'll be fine just need to sit... for a few days #BUT ALSO WHY DID JAUNE HAVE TO TURN YOUNGER AGAIN #it always messes with my mind when characters go through entire lives and then become children again #cause like... the memories are still there!! he's still old!! but now he just looks young which could lead to some problems #like... everyone's going to see him as kid again (or y'know a young adult) and maybe not take him as seriously as they should?? #but like... dude's been through an entire Time and he is Not Okay #sorry i have a lot of feelings and now that i'm typing it's all just coming out #more to say but i guess i'll stop here lmao #ALSO THE SOUNDTRACK WAS THE ABSOLUTE BEST #i've been listening to it for a while but hearing it in actual scenes is an Experience #rwby #rwby9 #sam says

[tonycries]

We Don’t Have No Babies!

Synopsis. Well, it’s a bit difficult to have no babies when they’re well and fully intent on fúcking one into you.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, bréeding, mentions of kids, máting press, pússydrunk boys, manhandling, marking, spitting, degradation, praise, cúmplay, the elders ugh (Gojo’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.9k

A/N. WHEWW take this as an apology gift for missing yesterday’s post date, I overslept eheheh.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - What’s another?

“Don’t hah- pass out on me yet, doll.” Toji hisses. Spreading your swollen folds further apart with his fingers, already stretched so obscenely around his swollen cock, and only trying to squeeze deeper. “What was it that brat said again?”

And you can only let out a broken whine in response - too high off the stretch and the utterly sinful pool of his cum spreading on the sheets below. It’s been like this for hours now, both of you barely lucid at this point. But you can’t bring yourself to be disgusted, not even a little bit. 

Because Toji’s throwing your legs over his shoulders, pressing down, down, down, till your knees were at your tits. Folded in half, and stuffed full beneath him. God, you weren’t going to make it out alive. 

“Oh, riiight.” he drags out, voice strained. Deceivingly innocent had it not been for that devilish grin. “He called you ‘mama’.”

And there it was - Megumi’s tiny, seemingly mindless slip-up that got you into this mess in the first place. One that had poked some raw, primal part of Toji so dangerously awake.

The one that had Toji splitting you in half with his aching cock, hips pressing so hard against yours that it almost hurts. Fucking into you in slow, languid motions of his hips, while he drinks in your sobbed out little, “Ah- Hngh- Toji, s’too much I-” 

Lazily, he thumbs open your folds even more, watching in awe at the way his seed dribbles and oozes down your thighs, seeping into the mattress. It takes him a while to form the words, too hazy from how warm and sloppy you were inside. 

“Too much?” he drawls, with the audacity to sound genuinely taken aback. “I don’t think it’s enough, ma.”

It’s the only warning you get - barely - before he laces his fingers on top of your head to take him deeper, snapping his hips harder. Sloppier. Sensitive cock stinging with sensitivity, balls squeezing painfully. It hurt, but it hurt so good. And Toji wasn’t even sure if he could cum again. But he was milking his cock on your pussy like he was gonna fill you up until he physically couldn’t anymore.

“B-but m’so full.” you babble, mouth dropping into a fucked-out little oh! as you look down at the way you were swallowing him up so well. “Dunno if I can’t hngh- t-take anymore.” 

Oh shit, had he said that out loud? Ah, who gives a fuck. Because Toji was chuckling in surprise, stuck on the way you could still form coherent sentences - he had to fix that, of course. 

“Shhh. Don’ worry about it. Jus’ need to fill you up- ah, fuck a baby into ya, ma.”  he gently kisses away those big, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “All you gotta do is sit there all pretty n’ take- it-” 

Hand snaking down to toy with your swollen clit - frenzied, barely-circular motions just to get you off. Because shit he can’t just stuff you full of his cock without getting the mother of his future kids off, right? And he let you know, of course. Maybe he was whispering sweet nothings in your ear - probably it was just promises of how he was gonna fill your pretty lil’ cunt till morning comes and Megumi was gonna be the best big brother and-

“-m’gonna make ‘em breakfast. And you’ll dress ‘em up. We’ll read oh- them bedtime stories and-” he’s babbling so pathetically into the crook of your neck now. “-an’ tuck ‘em into bed- Oh, fuck fuck fuck.” Drunk off your pussy and the heavenly feeling of his heavy balls squeezing so dangerously, letting his hips go out of control now. “And then- hngh, and then-”

“T-then what?” you let out such cute sobs into his open mouth, seeing stars behind your eyes each time he ravages you.

“Ya really wanna know, ma?”

Somehow, his words have you squeezing around him so good. Enough that it’s almost difficult to move inside you. Enough that Toji doesn’t even realize that he’s cumming and cumming so hard that you’re bloated with his seed. Squelching out of your quivering pussy and soaking his cock as he doesn’t even think of stopping even as you keen at your poor overfilled pussy, teeth latching onto your earlobe as he holds you still for him. 

“And then…” Toji’s hot breath fans your face, voice guttural and sounding like he was losing a little bit of his sanity with each thrust. Hips moving again and again to fuck his cum deeper into you. “And then m’gonna fuck another one into you.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Lonely? No problem!

“Aww, m’sorry. Did I make you feel lonely, my love?” Kissing your lips softly, running his hands all over the pretty lil’ lace covering your body - just barely, of course. “Did I leave my pretty lil’ wife all alone in this big house?” 

You give him a pouty little nod, and oh does that do something to Nanami’s heart - and his achingly hard cock. And he can’t help but pull the drenched fabric of your panties further to the side, greedily honing in on the way you glisten and clench around him. 

“Well, we should fix that, right? So that my pretty baby is never alone in here.”

You would be reassured by his answer - had it not been for the way Nanami doesn’t even wait for your reply. Instead, looking straight into your eyes while he pushes his thick cock deeper inside you. Not even fucking preparing you as he usually would.

“Oh! Oh, mm fuck-” And it’s all you can do to buck into his touch and just fucking take it while he grunts at the slight resistance. For once in his life more concerned about trying to fuck desperately into your dripping cunt than whether or not your poor pussy would hurt herself trying to take him. 

That merciful, practical little part of his brain going slow to let you adjust to his massive cock - because, well, he couldn’t break the mother of his future children. Now, could he?

But oh how you’d beg to differ with the way Nanami fucks into you in languid , shallow grinds of his hips. No matter how many times Nanami stuffed you full of his cock - his size never failed to disappoint. Stretching you out, fingers swiping at your clit, expertly grazing against all the right spots he knew so maddeningly well. 

“Two or three?”

It takes you a second to register that he’s waiting for your answer - too delirious with the way your husband’s splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his cock. Leaving neat crescents of his nails on your hips as he holds your slutty pussy still. 

“W-what?”

“Two or three?” Nanami gives your pulsing clit a little smack! as if to get your attention, hips stuttering ever-so-slightly at the way you squeeze his thick cock in surprise. “How many babies am I fuckin’ into you, my love?” 

Oh. Oh, shit. You weren’t making it out alive.

But were you really complaining? No.

Swallowing thickly, “Ah! Fuck, Kento- wan’ two.”

And maybe you’re a mastermind, maybe you’re an idiot. Because nowhere is the gentleman that you married, Nanami’s spitting on your quivering cunt once. Twice. Watching like a predator stalking his prey at the way it misses - purposefully, splattering against your inner thigh.

Smearing it all over your pussy and your panties - which he was too impatient, too starved - to remove. Messy. 

It’s all Nanami needed to do before he’s bottoming out completely. Pressing his forehead against yours in such a sweet motion, even though his hips were so mean. Drinking in your delirious whines as his heavy balls smack your ass. Over and over-

The duality making your head spin as he fucks his cute lil’ wife dumb, part of his sanity dancing away with his restraint every time your slutty hole sucks him up so deliciously. 

“Shit. More?” he grunts, sounding absolutely wrecked. Moaning at the way you tug at his hair, legs wrapping around his toned waist as if to urge him to go faster. Deeper. Begging. Begging him to ruin you. More more more- 

And, of course, what his girl wants - she gets. Because Nanami’s dragging his weeping tip across your swollen folds, all the way out till he’s collecting your sweet juices on his head. “Better take it like my good wife then.”

Then he’s pushing and pushing inside your tight pussy, but not like he was before. Jagged, desperate grinds of his hip - no adoration, no warmth. Just fucking you like his little slut, high off the idea of fucking his cum into you till you couldn’t walk. Till you were so full of him that he’s all you could think of. “We’ll have such beautiful babies, my love.” 

“Shit shit shit, Kento- yer gonna ruin me-” you’re whining, body torn between arching into Nanami’s unforgiving cock and running away. 

As if you ever had a chance - he was holding you so bruisingly by the hips, gasping into your mouth. “Shhh, that’s the point.”  Fucking you so filthy, each word punctuated by his out-of-control hips, so harsh and unfocused with lust that those tufts of blond at his base scratch your sensitive nub. And the feeling is so fucking obscene that you barely hear the words that follow. “You jus’ focus on taking care of my babies, n’ m’gonna be the one to ruin this pretty cunt- The one to fill you up- fuck. ”

Nanami throws his head back as you squeeze the soul out of his throbbing cock, so pent-up and needy that you’re creaming all over his cock already. And of course, Nanami isn’t any better - because with a strangled groan of your name, he’s cumming. Hard. almost painfully so. 

“N’ you’ll never be lonely, cuz everyone’s gonna see you and see me. I did that.” 

Jolts of electricity going all the way from his heavy balls to the thick, hot ropes of cumming filling your dripping pussy. Painting it all a desperate, desperate white.

And shit was Nanami an entirely different man tonight. Pulling out ever-so-slightly, only to admire his seed gushing out of you - so lewd and his. 

“Y’know what, my love, I don’t think two will be enough after all.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Pretty (and his)

“Awww, pretty baby.” Geto purrs, in such a dangerously low voice, smacking his tip - so red, and angry - all across your swollen folds. He bites his lip at the way his cum spills down your legs, pooling onto the hardwood floor with a deafening tap! tap! tap! “Y’want it so badly, huh?”

“Shit- hngh- please!”

You don’t know what you’re begging for - maybe release. Maybe mercy. Maybe to be anywhere but here - shoved against the wall right beside the front door, dress hiked up, almost your way to go clubbing with your friends before your beloved boyfriend had caught you. And stuffed you full of his cum, at least.

Whatever it is, Geto only gets messier, teasing your sloppy hole by slamming in - just barely grazing that one spot. And pulling out completely, watching you clench and glisten in the dim lighting. In. And out. In and out in and-

“Sugu!” you squeal, tired of the way he was having way too much making such a mess of your pussy. Swiping at your slick, and shoving his seed back into you - smirking at the obscene mess. 

“Mhm?” he nods absent-mindedly. Eyes flitting between your ravaged pussy and that absolutely adorable pout on your lips. Chuckling, “What~? If I cum in this cute pussy one more time, you’re sure to get pregnant, y’know.” 

Scoffing, “Shoulda thought of that when you came inside me the first time.”

Geto rolls his thumb over your sore clit - just as a little punishment - breath hot against your ear as he whispers raggedly.  “And are you complaining, gorgeous?”

“N-no…” 

“Then?”

He’s licking little circles at the crook of your neck now, in time with the maddening, frenzied patterns on your cunt. Enough friction to keep those pretty lil’ whines spilling from your swollen lips, but still teasing you just enough to have you bucking and keening onto his aching cock for more more more-

“Please! I jus’ want your cock, Sugu-”

All it takes is your broken little whimper, and it’s like something snapped - because Geto’s plunging into your plushy walls completely. Finally giving you an ounce of that friction you’ve been craving for so long. Only half the man he was once before while fucks into you deliriously. 

“F-fuck. Love it when you’re so messy f’me.” he’s hissing lowly, as if you could be anything but messy. As if he’s not pulling you back by the hair to bounce you like some slut, hips snapping mercilessly. As if he isn’t absolutely ruining you.

And maybe if you were in any better state of mind you’d have said something about the pure disrespect in his cock. Fucking you nothing like the sweet sweet whispers he was muttering in your ear, ragged and hoarse with desire.

“Gonna fill you up, huh? Give me some cute lil’ babies?” he groans,nibbling on your earlobe, fingers pressing down around your throat so the only response he gets are wet gurgles. Ones that go straight to his twitching balls, as Geto keeps running his mouth pussydrunk. “They better have your personality, don’ wanna share my pretty girl. Isn’t that right?”

So mean. Just babbling like you rarely get to see him - usually the ever-graceful Geto Suguru. Now, drunk on your tight pussy and the image of you with a little baby with black hair and him - there for it all. His perfect little family. 

“Gonna be the perfect momma, huh?” 

Geto only gets a broken little whimper in response - one that almost makes him want to go easy on you. Almost, instead, he settles for breathing out a ragged, “Fuck fuck fuck, yeah, gorgeous. Squeeze me s’tight like that - jus’ like that jus’ like that-” 

Trailing such a delicate finger up your legs, Geto pools that sinful mixture of your slick and his cum on his fingertips - before shoving them unforgivingly in your mouth. The slightly salty taste was so addictive on your tongue - and, hell, you aren’t even mad that you’re running late to meet your friends.

Smirking as you gag and mewl around him, he only gets sloppier. Faster. Licking a long, languid stripe up your neck, just knowing that he’s gonna cum inside your cute pussy harder than he has his whole life. Have your poor pussy bloated with him him him- “Now, yer gonna go to that lil’ party of yours jus’ like this. And everyone’s gonna know who you belong to.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Can’t help himself

“N-no, swear-” Choso lets out a broken little whimper into the crook of your neck. Feet flat on the bed, hips bucking up mindlessly over and over to where you were splayed out so prettily on top of him. So messy and dripping all over his glistening cock. “Gonna ngh- be the last one- I s-swear.”

You’ve heard this broken little mantra before - and you knew it wouldn’t end well for your poor pussy. Especially not with Choso bullying his weeping cock back into your snug cunt. “But, Cho!” you gasp, “We’re out of-”

He knows you’re out of condoms. But, really, does it matter?

Because shit were you like the gates of heaven spread wide open for him. And, well, here he was - completely pussydrunk, two rounds and a still rock-hard cock later. The only thing on his mind from then on was to not paint your pretty pussy white with his seed, no matter how much he wanted do. 

“Last time, baby. Promise I won’t cum inside.” And then he’s batting this long lashes so unfairly up at you. So fucking beautiful with his dark hair untied, lips swollen, eyes-half-hooded and miles away. And, well, how could you say no to that?

And you’ve barely gotten out your delirious little nod before Choso’s wrapping two strong arms around your waist, pulling you so intimately closer like he worshipped you - while he fucks your hot cunt like anything but. So hard that you knew it would leave marks - your nails on his chest, his balls on your ass, fingers on your waist. 

God, you were squeezing so desperately around him and he just thinks he might just cum right then and there. So fucking perfect that Choso knows he’s never buying another box of condoms ever again. 

“F-fuck, feels s’good. Love having you so deep n’ messy inside me.”

You were going to be the death of him.

“Hngh- fuck fuck fuck, yeah? You like that, baby?” he groans lowly. Abs burning and flexing each time he rams his cock into your tight pussy, absolutely loving the way you were leaking his cum all over the sheets. 

“Shit- I-” 

“Yes, Cho~?”

Face burning in embarrassment, choking pathetically on his words, Choso instead lets his hips do the talking. Strained whimpers of your name leaving him each time he bullies his painfully twitching cock through your plushy walls.

Voice cracking almost-embarrassingly at the end as he rambles, “Oh my god- y’feel so fucking good wrapped around me, baby. Wanna- hngh-” Trying his very best to sound like every cute lil’ whimper didn’t make his thoughts steer into the dangerous territory of how pretty you’d be with his kid. Of a little girl with dark hair and your eyes and-

You. His hips speeding up now, so sloppy with now rhyme or rhythm. How round and glowing you’d be with his kid. You, how everyone would know that he was that ruined your pretty pussy n’ got you this way. You, you, you-

“Wanna cum in this cute pussy, baby.” He finally confesses. Hips getting so messy - mindless, quick little jabs that have you keening on top of him, balls squeezing painfully. “Wanna fill y’up until you can’t take it anymore, fuck you so full until we have a pretty baby. Can I, baby? Please don’t say no please please-”

And at this point all you can do is whine and buck your hips to meet his merciless cadence, letting Choso crane his neck and kiss you senseless. “Fuck yeah. Thought you’d never ask-” you mutter, muffled around where he was sucking on your lips, like they were his favorite candy. “Want you to cum inside me, Cho.”

Well, you didn’t need to tell Choso twice because no sooner have the words left your lips before he’s giving you one harsh thrust. Veins throbbing against your gummy walls, again and again. 

Tears pricking his eyes as he cums with such a guttural grunt of your name. “Gonna have a pretty lil’ girl.” Both white-white pleasure and the image of you and him and his daughter flashing behind his eyes. “She’ll look just as beautiful as you, baby. N’ have your cute smile.”

Your own orgasm is nothing more than a few tingles, overstimulated and limp on top of Choso as stuffs you full of his seed. Thick, white ropes that gushing all the way out of your snug pussy, smearing all over his twitching balls. 

You could get used to this.

And it’s such a heavenly feeling that Choso barely registers his hips moving again, as if on instinct. Fucking mindlessly into you again. Again and again. Gasping, breath hot against your ear. 

“Only one more, baby. Promise.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - A reward

“F-fuck, woman” Sukuna grunts, fingers so bruising on your hips as you slide down his throbbing erection. Inch by fucking inch, keening at the delicious burn. “Y’act so innocent but you’ve got such a slutty lil’ pussy, huh?”

As expected, the only response he gets is an incoherent babble of agreement. Your eyes watering, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth as you struggle to take him. And his sharp eyes narrow in amusement at the sight of his painfully inexperienced consort’s pretty cunt sucking him up so eagerly. Hips stuttering and leaking your sweet, sweet so sloppily juices all over his thighs.

Humans were always such interesting little creatures.

“Tch.”

Slow ones, too, apparently.

Because immediately, Sukuna’s stuffing himself into your sloppy pussy as far as it would go. Groaning at the resitance, a large hand pumping his cock slowly - enticingly - as he fucks his hips in quick, shallow little thrusts, just to fit himself inside your snug cunt. 

And you needed to breathe in and out maybe, relax your plushy walls, but Sukuna wasn’t going to wait. Why would he? He had his favorite woman - not that he’d ever let you know - sat on his lap, legs spread so shamefully and bouncing on his thick cock.

“F-fuck.” his jaw falls slack ever so slightly, groaning at the feeble resistance against his massive cock. Still only half-inside you but still pushing relentlessly. “S’like your pussy was made f’me, brat. Milking me so well.”

“Shit shit shit- hah- ‘Kuna, feel s’good-” you gasp, thighs quivering with the pressure to meet his rough cadence. And Sukuna huffs out a low laugh at your audacity to call his name, feeling charitable enough today to forgive this transgression. 

Instead toying with your pretty clit, pinching and rolling between his thick fingers, loving the way you buck and squeal his name. 

“Hmm, feels good?” he hums dangerously, amused at your barely-lucid little nod. Fucking into you like his personal fucktoy - his favorite one. “Good ‘nough to give me an heir?”

At this your eyes snap open - but not for long because you just have to screw them shut again with Sukuna finally bottoming out in a quick, harsh thrust. Splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his cock, veins throbbing a maddening little bump! bump! bump! matching your heartbeat. 

You barely have the time to breathe out a sigh of relief before he’s fucking into you. Unforgivingly. Like the monster he claims to be. All the blood draining into his achingly dick at the idea of fucking his cum into you until you couldn’t walk. 

And he tells you - chuckling at the cute lil’ ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth each time his fat head hits your cervix. “Y’want that, my little slut? To be my cute plaything to breed? Help m’make the next king of curses?”

Fuck, you don’t know if you’re reeling more from the way he was ramming his cock into you or the way he was talking to you in that mean little tone. 

“Mmm- yes! Yes yes yes!”

“Use your words.”

“Wan’-” you hiccup, batting your lashes at him so tearily, in a way that makes Sukuna’s heart thump so strangely. An uneven little beat matching the led rhythm of his hips. “Wan’ your cum- gonna give you a kid.”

So cockdrunk and delirious, you barely register the way he wrestles your arms behind your back, using it like leverage to bounce you harder and harder on his cock. Only looking up at him with such cute lil’ heart eyes as Sukuna uses you as he pleases. 

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck yeah?‘ he gasps into your open mouth. Teeth latching onto the crook of your neck, biting down right over your pulse. Dangerous. “Gonna make me an heir so powerful. Have him treat you like a queen n’ kill everyone that doesn’t? Ya like that, my lil’ slut?”

“Shit- ah- I want that s’bad, ‘Kuna.”

Knock! Knock! Knock!

And oh how pretty you look, cunt clenching and all surprised at the knock on the door - some lowly human here to beg for their life, maybe. But it doesn’t matter, because Sukuna’s only licks away the big, fat tears streaming down your cheek, hips burning while he breeds you like some animal. Hard, and almost violent.

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same, breathless and shaking on Sukuna’s lap while he fill you with his hot seed. Thick and intoxicating. Hips unstopping, just animalistic little movements from such a carnal part of himself. Over and over-

And you’re so fucking drunk off of your lord’s cock that you barely even realize when he’s thumbing your ravaged cunt open. Letting his cum drip all the way down to his gaudy throne, on full display for whoever was about to-

“Come in.”

It’s adorable how you try to scramble off his lap, trying - and failing - to cover yourself up as the door cracks open. 

“Not yet, woman.” Sukuna grasps you in an iron-hold grip, dangerously sharp nails tethering right at your throat and your hips. Starting to drag you up and down on his swollen cock once more with no concern or care for whoever was about to enter. “Gotta make sure it takes.”

It was filthy. 

Completely debauched. And exactly where you wanted to be. You and your lord - and maybe your future heir, too.

♡ GOJO SATORU - Give ‘em what they want!

“Hah- f-fuck imagine- Imagine I fucked the next s-strongest into you right now.”

Oh. 

You knew by the look in his eyes that something was off - that something hadn’t gone well in that meeting with the elders. Really, it was a miracle he attended in the first place, but somehow you had an inkling that this was the type of something that would have you needing a miracle.

That was three hours ago.

And fuck did you need a miracle - because Gojo had you splayed out on top your office desk, his cum spreading in a pool beneath, you throbbing cock stuffing in and out of your snug cunt while you try not to alert the entirety of Jujutsu High about how needy the great Gojo Satoru was being right now.

Gojo’s ramming his swollen dick into your poor, overstimulated pussy like he was drunk off the sight of you all cockdrunk and in a tight mating press. Moaning at the sting of painfully hard erection twitching inside you, and your nails running down his back. 

Not even bothering to let you adjust this time before he’s fucking you again and again and-

You think it’s a bit unfair, really. Because who were you against the strongest? Well, the pretty lil’ wife who’s going to give him his successor, apparently. 

“Shit- wouldn’t that be funny?” he lets out a humorless laugh, wrestling your legs further and further apart. Eyeing the way you suck him up lewdly, “If I made my kid the strongest n’ just wiped these old fossils out?”

“T-Toru- we’ll get ca-”

“Caught? Who fuckin’ cares, they want a Gojo successor n’ they’re gonna get one.”

He’s letting out his frustration in the way he chases both your highs for the - well, you lost count which orgasm it was at this point. Letting you stain all over the expensive desk as he yells out little curses into your mouth.

And oh how you want to kiss that little furrow in his brow, to whisper away his stress - but, no, the only thing getting Gojo out of this bad mood was to fully and thoroughly ruin his girl’s cute lil’ cunt. 

But Toru-” you sob into his open mouth, hips bucking wildly for more. “What if I can’t give you the strongest…” You know you’re babbling deliriously, little insecurities you didn’t even know you had coming to the surface as it really hits you that shit this is your Gojo. And he’s here. And he’s fucking you until he’s sure you’re pregnant.

“Who gives a shit?” he licks away the big, fat tears streaking down your face. Salty on his tongue while he plays with your pretty clit, rubbing quick, tight little circles on it. 

As if to emphasize his point, Gojo brings his fingertips to his mouth with a lewd pop! So blissfully wrapping his lips around them. Darkened blue eyes rolling to the back of his head at the taste - it only spurs him on more. 

Fingers immediately back down on your clit. Frenzied - like he couldn’t wait any longer, like it killed him to not see you cum again. Body bowing into yours, hand digging and bruising on your hips as he holds your filthy pussy still on his cock, 

“Fuck, gonna give it all to you, sweetheart. M’gonna train them to be the strongest n’ protect their pretty mommy.” 

Sloppy, he was so fucking sloppy - such a mess of teeth and spit and pure desire to paint your walls white. 

“Gonna have my eyes, huh? N’ your hair. Fuck they’re gonna regret bringing this up.” Babbling little nonsenses that drove you mad. He sounded so fucking pathetic, crazed with lust. “Ooooh they’re gonna regret it.” Overstimulated enough that it hurt.

Kissing the side of your ankle beside his head, lacing his fingers together to pull you further and further down his rock-hard cock. Sloppy and moving with no rhyme or reason. “Because they fucking hate me. All of ‘em will look at our kid n’ you - so round and pretty and see me. All me.” 

Now, you’ve heard of orgasms that come out of nowhere - ones that have you convulsing and gripping onto Gojo - the desk, his shoulders, his hair. And this was no different. “Ah! Hngh, Toru m’cumming m’cumming oh-”

Delirious, white-hot pleasure cracking behind his eyes, Gojo’s pumping hot thick, hopes ropes of cum into your poor, overfilled pussy. And shit no thrill of taking out the elders could compare to watching the way his seed drips down the side. Slow, and thick, pooling at his quivering balls as he fucks you like an animal. Over and over and-

“Hey, sweetheart, y’think if I cum in you again, they’ll come out twice as strong?”

“...”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo x reader #geto x reader #sukuna x reader #nanami x reader #gojo smut #geto smut #sukuna smut #nanami smut #tonywrites #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #choso x reader #choso smut #toji x reader #toji smut #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #gojo x reader smut #toji x reader smut #satoru gojo x reader #toji fushiguro smut #nanami x reader smut #choso x reader smut #geto x reader smut

[zarameraki]

♡₊˚⚜️・₊✧ 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮'𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱'𝘀 𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 ♡₊˚⚜️・₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 mdni 𖥔 sukuna is a mafia kingpin 𖥔 teasing grumpy x sunshine 𖥔 pregnancy trope 𖥔 he'll burn the world for you 𖥔 "my wife" 𖥔 he's a great dad 𖥔 mentions of miscarriage 𖥔 mentions of physical and sexual assault 𖥔 mention of parental death 𖥔 major fluff 𖥔 sexual content 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 he loves eating you out 𖥔 anal play (yup.) 𖥔 last warning: mdni!

: ̗̀➛ words: 6.0k

: ̗̀➛ notes: no bc i love you all so much. it's insane how much you guys have supported my toji fanfic & and my nanami fanfic. i'll def be writing a part two to both of those masterpieces (yes i have self-confidence). as someone who's always imagined sukuna as a mafia leader, i decided to say fuck it and write it. please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy! (p.s. pregnancy trope>>>)

You never thought you'd be married to Sukuna Ryomen, let alone carrying his kid again. Yet, four years deep into this forced marital mess, thanks to your father owing a hefty debt to the kingpin of the underworld crime syndicate, here you were.

“Look at you, Mrs. Ryomen, radiant as ever!” chirped one of your husband’s associate's wives. You had studied a name list last night, but it all escaped your memory after you passed out from sheer exhaustion.

Sukuna wasn’t keeping a hawk's eye on you like he used to when you first stepped into the public eye. Gone were the days of his glares if you messed up a name. Never once had he laid a finger on you at home, despite your assumption that forgetfulness would earn you a beating.

“Thank you." You forced a smile at the woman, your patience waning as the mayor's birthday party stretched on. It was almost the end of the night, and your feet were protesting from traipsing around in flats. All you craved at that moment was your bed, pronto.

The woman and her husband attempted to capture Sukuna's lukewarm attention through political discussions and expressing gratitude for the illegal artillery shipments from your husband's syndicate. They made no effort to acknowledge your existence by his side.

Your hand rested on your belly, a mere eight months into your pregnancy—a new personal record. The first time you conceived, Sukuna demanded an heir, and you willingly agreed, knowing that the child would provide some distraction in the expansive estate that felt like a cage. Unfortunately, at the two-month mark, you experienced a miscarriage.

Feeling Sukuna's knuckles lightly tapping your back, you straightened your posture momentarily, only to slouch again almost instantly. It was futile. The discomfort of your swollen and cramped belly made it nearly impossible to maintain a poised demeanor in the midst of the party.

Disobeying Sukuna meant facing inevitable death, a fact well understood in his dangerous domain, and you had never dared to challenge that.

"Let's go," Sukuna said, cutting through the incessant chatter of the couple. He didn't grasp your hand, only your fragile wrist, a gesture you didn't mind. Yours was not a typical love; he, Sukuna Ryomen, a most feared monster in the criminal underworld, and you, a sacrificial lamb, a trophy collected three years ago, a means to his heir.

"I'm sorry," you whispered as you exited the venue, heading towards the limousine surrounded by fifteen armed guards under Sukuna's command. "I'm so sorry—"

"Get in the car." He held the door open for you, signaling his guards to disperse and take their positions in the Jeeps parked behind.

Silencing yourself, you cautiously settled into the back seat, and Sukuna joined you, slamming the door with force. His anger was discernible, and the memory of that night, losing your second unborn child to a kidnapping, plagued your dreams. You were uncertain if the nightmares were about Sukuna's wrath upon finding you or the horrors his enemies inflicted on you during your 48-hour captivity.

Sukuna noticed your struggle with the seatbelt and contorted his body toward you. Your fingers released their grip on the belt, allowing him to pull it taut and secure it snugly around your midsection. Click. He withdrew, distancing himself from your face that had been mere inches away.

“Tedious fucking party, anyway,” Sukuna grumbled, his left ankle casually perched on his right kneecap. He always adopted a specific posture, his elbow leaning against something, cheek resting on his knuckles, and his narrow eyes a rich brown that could almost pass for a deep shade of red. He exuded an unrelenting air of intimidation.

"I agree," you unintentionally voiced your thoughts, earning a sidelong glance from him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

His attention barely lingered on you as the car roared to life. You breathed a sigh of relief, stretching out your legs and leaning your head back against the seat's shoulder. Your palm absentmindedly traced circles on your belly. Goosebumps peppered your skin from the frigidness in the car, stirring an involuntary shudder.

"Turn on the heater," Sukuna ordered the driver in his smooth, languid baritone.

"Yes, sir."

As warmth gradually surrounded the backseat, you hummed a small "Thank you" and closed your eyes, enjoying a few moments of peace.

Disorientation clouded your senses, and you dispelled it by rubbing your eyes and using your knuckles to prop yourself against the headboard. A couple of contractions ripped through your gut, causing you to groan and hiss through gritted teeth.

The enormous room was devoid of Sukuna, its black silk sheets hinting at the luxury covering you. The fireplace casted a warm glow, and a soft, dim golden light spilled from the lamp onto the floor.

In the first year of your marriage and pregnancy, your bedroom was located three doors away. You were tended to by on-site nurses and doctors, surrounded by an entourage of maids for company. Days were spent aimlessly wandering the estate, occasionally crossing paths with one of Sukuna's mistresses, their curious smirks evident as they exited his room.

The second year brought a subtle shift. You still slept alone, but now there was a surprising addition of joining Sukuna for dinner. Positioned diagonally from him, an air of restrained silence hung above your head. Yet, between the utensils clattering and quiet chewing, Sukuna's glances toward you and your five-month-old belly revealed your anticipation for the impending arrival of your child.

One of your maids had been instructed to lure you into a private conversation in the back garden, and before you could react, a group of men clad in black drugged you and forcibly removed you from the cage, which in that cruel moment felt like a sanctuary.

Most details of the monstrosities forced upon you in that warehouse have been compressed by your mind—the merciless physical and sexual assault endured for hours. They callously bragged that raping Sukuna's Ryomen's wife was a personal victory, cackling like bloodthirsty hyenas as you bled from your legs. In the thick of your suffering, you lost your second child in a pool of your own sweat and feces.

When Sukuna discovered you, when he annihilated every man along with their bloodlines, you were left as a mere shell of a woman, practically lifeless. You've existed as a walking corpse for quite some time now. Following that dreadful night, you attempted every conceivable means to end your own life—drowning, leaping out of windows, creating a makeshift noose from bed sheets and tying them around balcony railings, teetering on the edge—but every attempt proved useless. Sukuna consistently interfered at the last minute, sweeping in and enveloping you in his arms as you wept until unconsciousness claimed you for days.

Therapy provided some relief, as did the medications. Sukuna heightened security measures tenfold, keeping only those workers who served during his father and grandfather's reigns. He moved your belongings into his bedroom, sleeping by your side with a gun beneath his pillow. There were times when you would doze off in the library while reading, only to wake up in his room.

Two years seemed like an eternity in the slow process of healing, both physically and mentally, from the torment that had befallen you. Stepping into the garden was a reminder of the progress you had made, yet the hope that blossomed in your womb now filled you with a different kind of fear.

You needed your baby. Even if it meant risking your own life during childbirth. The only thing that mattered was the precious life you carried within you, and as long as your baby took that first breath, you'd welcome death with open arms.

Sukuna's bedroom door creaked open, revealing his presence.

Mink-colored tendrils of hair obscured his eyes, disheveled from their usual spiked stance. The stark white of his dress shirt was marred by the unmistakable stains of someone else's blood, and a gun dangled casually from his grasp. In the subdued lighting, his facial markings, inked tattoos designed to mask the scars of his tormented childhood, appeared more ominous than ever.

Without acknowledging your ogling, he briskly entered his bathroom.

You slipped back under the covers, pulling the comforter up to your chin, soothing the sharp twinges in your belly. The rhythmic sounds of his shower served as a background melody. Sukuna took an eternity to freshen up, nearly two hours passing before the door finally creaked open. You had kept a close eye on it, lost in your own world and trying to ignore the persistent contractions. No complaints, though – you were at the eight-month mark, and this baby was determined to make its entrance into the world.

Draped in a sleek black silk robe, Sukuna strolled toward his side of the bed, his eyes locking onto yours. "Why are you still awake?" He tilted his head as if studying an unfamiliar creature. He always regarded you with a curious interest, unearthing some new revelations about you.

"Cramps," you whispered in the dimness, even though the first rays of morning sun began to seep through the curtains.

Sukuna strolled to his side of the bed, lifting the comforter to settle down. "Do you take any medication for it?"

You shook your head. "I don't want to take any risks."

"So you're just going to endure the night with a migraine?"

Your husband seemed oblivious to the concept of cramps. He hadn't bothered to educate himself about your pregnancy or even familiarize himself with basic menstrual cycle terminology. You hesitated to bring attention to his title and position, but he was, after all, born from a woman.

How could he not know?

"Answer me," Sukuna demanded, fixing you with a cold, indifferent gaze. How could two simple words carry such a heavy, intimidating weight? Your entire body shuddered, and you swore you felt your child kick in response to his attitude, causing you to clench your teeth.

"Cramps . . . are something women experience during their period and pregnancy. They're sharp, unpredictable pains in your gut and back," you explained, finding a position that eased the cramps and calmed your baby. "It's worse when you're pregnant—like someone attached a taser to your body without a switch to turn it off."

Sukuna's brow furrowed, and he seemed pissed off as if he held a vendetta against cramps. "Will it have any consequence on the baby?"

You were really trying to be patient. “The baby is the reason why.” 

He ran his hands wearily down his face, casting a stern gaze at the ceiling, his breath quickening. "Is there any way to relieve the pain? Besides medication?"

“Well,” you said slowly, “when I first started menstruating, my mother used to place a warm rubber bottle on my stomach.” The recollection of nights spent groaning, tossing, and turning with your hand clutching your stomach brought a smile. After her passing in high school, you found yourself managing the household, dealing with your drug-addicted father, and taking care of yourself all on your own.

"Come here."

Startled, you shifted your focus to your husband, who raised the comforter like a makeshift tent with one arm. "You don't have to—"

"Come here."

With caution, you edged closer, lying flat and holding your breath. Sukuna propped himself up on one elbow, resting his temple on his knuckles while adjusting the blanket up to your neck. His left hand glided up your sweater and settled on your swollen belly.

An immediate sense of relaxation cocooned you, your eyes closing as warmth radiated from his palm onto your skin. The sensation passed through to your child, who quit kicking within seconds, seemingly recognizing their father's touch. It dawned on you that Sukuna hadn't touched you since you conceived, and you hadn't realized the volume of your misery and longing until this moment.

"Feeling better?"

"Mm-hmm." You nestled your face close to his neck. All you managed to whisper, your voice tinged with brokenness, was, "Please, don't let go."

Sukuna responded only with silence.

You'd woken up screaming bloody-mary.

The security team and maids hurried into the bedroom, their eyes widening at the sight of blood staining your clothes and darkening the black sheets. In a swift response, the doctor and her team of nurses rushed in while Uraume, Sukuna's trusted aide, calmly called for your husband from a corner of the room.

In the heat of your excruciating screams, five nurses attempted to guide your breathing and encourage you to follow a pattern. Guards carefully lifted you into a sitting position, and Uraume decisively cleared the room of all men. The doctor swiftly removed your sweatpants and panties, covering your lower region with a sheet, and instructing you to push.

Your body felt numb, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and a black vignette closing in on your vision. Your head swayed left and right, on the verge of dropping if not for Uraume's unwavering support. Despite the intensity of your grip, they held steady, their only reaction being a stream of muttered curses amid the chaotic scene.

"I can't—Uraume—"

"You will, Mrs. Sukuna. You have come this far. Giving up now is not an option."

"I don't want to die," you whispered akin to a prayer.

"You won't," they softly replied. "He won't allow it."

Uraume, a silent figure from the past, now stood by your side, offering support and encouragement. The connection with them had been minimal, limited to the formalities of a marital contract signing. They had simply muttered, “He’s not half as evil as they say,” to you before packing up the papers and leaving you in the room with Sukuna.

The room buzzed with affirmations, reassuring you that they could see the baby's head and urging you to push with each breath.

The sound of the baby's cries stirred you awake.

You snapped to attention at the sweet, reassuring sound, realizing that your baby was close to arrival—alive and ready to face the world. Following two heartbreaking miscarriages and the pain endured as Sukuna's wife, the bearer of his lost children, you were finally on the cusp of welcoming motherhood.

"Two more pushes!" The doctor's voice cut through the air.

"AGH!" A guttural growl escaped your throat as you grappled with the harsh sensations. Your body trembled, and waves of fiery discomfort overflowed through your core as you exerted yourself to bring your baby into the world.

"Come on," Uraume whispered. "You can do this, Mrs. Ryomen."

You let out a powerful cry and strained with effort, bringing forth new life. The baby and you were crying at the exact wavelength, competing against who could be louder. The nurses and attendants, familiar faces from your previous pregnancies, clasped their hands in prayer for a safe delivery. Tears of relief streamed down your face as you pushed for your own well-being.

"Blanket!" the doctor urgently called out, prompting a nurse to rush over with a soft cream blanket. "Push!"

With a final, determined push, the weight lifted suddenly.

The slippery sensation of delivering the child and the immediate release of pressure left you slumping against Uraume's shoulder. As they laid you down, the doctor directed the staff to tend to you while the baby's cries filled the air.

The doctor approached through your hazy sight and gently laid your newborn on your chest. Overwhelmed with emotion, you showered your baby with kisses, tears of joy streaming down your face. Your little one was here. They were finally here.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Ryomen," the doctor announced as the cries of your newborn gradually faded into the background. "It's a girl."

You drifted into unconsciousness.

The soft cadence of Sukuna's voice filtered through the foggy boundaries of sleep, causing you to slowly come back to life.

“Why is this brat refusing to sleep?” you heard your husband grumbling.

With a laborious effort, you rubbed your eyes, summoning the strength to lift your head from the comfort of the pillow. The scene unfolded before you—Sukuna, the most feared criminal, pacing at the foot of his bed, cradling your crying newborn daughter in his arms, unsure of how to handle his little foe.

"What do you want? Food? You don’t have any teeth yet, little miscreant."

"Sukuna . . ." you whispered, a gentle plea for attention.

Your husband's gaze snapped in your direction, relief washing over his features as he realized you were conscious. "Thank fuck." Moving swiftly, he approached and took a seat at the edge of the bed.

His brown-reddish eyes lingered on the delicate scene unfolding before him—the intertwining of your index finger with your daughter's tiny, rattling fist. A calming magic seemed to stem from your touch, instantly soothing the cries to soft sniffles.

"Already playing favorites, I see," he remarked with a teasing tone, a wry smile on his lips.

"I have to feed her." Your voice was hoarse from the relentless screaming during the delivery. A series of deadly wheezes followed when you coughed, frightening your baby once more. Her cries started again, blending with the impatient curses of her father.

He gently placed her in the cradle, his strength used to prop you up against the headboard. The room carried the scent of coconut soap, your body freshly washed, the sheets beneath you brand-new. You were also dressed in a new set of panties and a nursing bra.

"Are you sure you have enough nutrients in your body to feed her?" Sukuna asked, holding your baby girl as you unclipped the front left cup. Rather than wasting your breath on a response, you focused on helping your daughter latch onto your nipple.

You winced once she caught it, then melted back as she started drinking. “I’m fine,” you finally answered. “Body . . . hurts.”

"No shit. You pushed an eight-kilo baby out of you." Despite the crude sarcasm in his tone, Sukuna tenderly caressed his knuckles over his daughter's cheek.

"Did you want . . . a girl?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, adjusting your baby onto your lap. "I assumed you'd prefer a boy as an heir."

"I'm not my father," he declared, putting an end to the conversation. "She's got your eyes."

Your daughter gazed up at you with a curiosity remarkably similar to yours. You smiled down at her, grateful she had made it. Grateful that Sukuna wasn't throwing a tantrum over the gender of your child but instead cupping the top of his baby girl's head and brushing his thumb across her forehead.

“You got a name for her?” Sukuna asked.

“Yes, but we can brainstorm if you don’t—”

“You carried the child, you birthed her, you will name her. Whatever it is, I agree.”

Something dead stirred inside your chest. Swallowing hard, you shared the chosen name, "Nobara."

He nodded in approval, and as he pronounced her name, Nobara responded with a wailing cry. "Her tantrums will be the fucking death of me." Sukuna took her into his arms again.

"Support the back of her head and rub her back. She needs to be burped," you advised.

He grunted but followed your instructions. Moments later, a tiny burp from Nobara made you chuckle, earning a slight eye roll and a hint of a smile from him.

"I'll take the next few weeks off to help you recover from the aftermath and the stitches," he announced, rising and walking towards his work desk, where he settled into a large leather chair, cradling your newborn.

You nodded appreciatively, easing yourself down.

"Oh, before I forget," Sukuna mentioned as you settled into bed, "I've arranged a new doctor for you."

“Did you fire the last one?”

“I fired at her, yes.”

Your eyes widened. "What? Why would you—? What?"

He shrugged, cradling the back of your newborn's head. "She suggested an additional stitch for you. Said it would make things 'tighter' down there for me."

Your face flushed. “So . . . you killed her?”

"Yes," he confirmed, his gaze fixed on you with those penetrating eyes, "I don't need a mere doctor questioning whether I'd still enjoy having sex with my wife after she gave birth to our child."

“But . . . you have mistresses. Don’t you?”

He lifted a brow. “I had mistresses up until . . . ”

Up until the kidnapping.

Sukuna never spoke of the crime after he’d saved you. Instead, he expressed his commitment through actions: sleeping beside you, teaching you how to handle a handgun, keeping a protective arm around your waist at social gatherings. Occasionally, you swore you felt him run his fingers through your hair as you slept.

"I wouldn't mind if you did," you admitted, a voice inside contradicting your words. "Given what my body has been through, I would find myself repulsive for pleasure, too. I understand if you feel disgusted."

Sukuna halted the gentle strokes on your daughter's back and straightened up. "What the fuck did you just say?"

An icy shiver ran through you, momentarily numbing the pain. "I-I just assumed—"

"You know, you make a lot of assumptions about me, wife. It gets under my fucking skin that you'd ever believe I could raise a hand on you. Day and night, every hour and minute, even now, in your presence, my mind is consumed with ways to kill the fear that's taken root in you.” He was infuriated yet vulnerable, with Nobara sleeping peacefully on his shoulder. “Everyone I’ve ever met has done nothing but fear me like I’m a curse on their soul, and while I’m flattered of the monster they’ve painted me out to be, I refuse to let my wife and daughter see me in that light. Do I make myself clear?"

You . . . nodded. 

“And for your information, I had mistresses up until I married you.”

You took in a sharp breath, processing the confession. "But those women—"

"Spies," he clarified, his voice low and steady. "They operate undercover in my clubs, keeping an eye out for potential threats. I haven't fucked anyone since the day I put that ring on your finger." He offered a small, almost imperceptible apology to your baby for cursing.

"Oh."

All you ever heard were twisted stories about the Sukuna Ryomen, a young man who, against all odds, slaughtered his own father to ascend the throne of the underworld criminal realm. Whispers spoke of a chilling childhood, where a mother's desperate attempt to suffocate her son in his sleep. The scars etched into his skin, concealed beneath a tapestry of dark markings, bore witness to the brutal initiation rites inflicted by vengeful uncles. In his domain, everyone prayed to see him buried six feet under.

Which is why you felt sympathy for your husband. He was lonely. Too lonely. Despite all the riches and influence surrounding him, he was stuck in a fortress where danger lurked around every corner. He had no friends, no one he could truly confide in—except perhaps Uraume. Opening up about his emotions wasn't in his nature. He kept the tough exterior, convinced that being a monster, a curse, was the only path to earning respect and recognition.

But just now, when had cut himself open in front of you and bled a human color, he was Sukuna. Your husband. The one who just became a father. A man wrapped in a comfortable robe with his hair combed down and his skin clean of dirt and blood as he held his daughter, as he gazed at you like you two were the only people meant fighting for in his treacherous world.

Sukuna noticed your silence, tuned in to your steady breaths, and lowered his lashes. "You'll ask me to touch you. Not just for the sake of having another child but for your own pleasure. If I'm not around and you need me, you will call, and I'll rush home. If this little brat gives you any trouble, I'll handle it. Hell, maybe I'll let her in on a bit of the family business for a head start."

"No," you murmured, absorbing everything he'd just said. "Not now. I want her to enjoy a proper childhood."

"Is that a demand?" Sukuna tilted his head slightly, another method of asserting authority. Yet, after all he'd shared about dropping everything for you, about making love to you, the fear in you started to dissolve bit by bit.

"Yes," you affirmed. "It's a demand."

A small smirk played on Sukuna's lips as he rose from his spot, circled the bed, and settled down beside you, with Nobara resting peacefully on his chest. Summoning all your strength, you turned to run your fingers over your baby's soft cheek and tiny, parted lips.

“She sleeps like you, Mr. Ryomen.”

“Sukuna,” he corrected, his arm covering his eyes as he breathed with a slightly open mouth. “My wife will call me Sukuna.”

Teasingly, you asked, “Is that a demand, Sukuna?”

His arm shifted low, and his reddish-brown eyes softened, stealing your breath. “Only from my wife and daughter.”

You smiled, closing your eyes. “Goodnight, Sukuna.”

In response, he wrapped his strong arm around you, pulling you close to his side, his two girls snuggled against his body.

In the beginning, you knew you didn't belong in the hell Sukuna ruled. Your father's mistakes, pilfering drug shipments and peddling them locally, had sealed both his fate and yours. With thoughts of fleeing the disgrace your father brought upon your family, you had started packing, desperate to escape the clutches of your old man.

The following night, Sukuna and his henchmen barged into your cramped apartment, wreaking havoc on every piece of furniture. Rocking in the corner of your room, Sukuna casted his shadow over you like the God of Death, bathed in your father’s blood.

Crouching down to your eye level, he tipped your chin up, leaving a splotch of blood. He used the collar of your sweater to wipe it away. In a hushed confession, you revealed the hidden drugs under the sink and floorboards, along with your father's buyer list folded in the cereal boxes. Sukuna grinned and ordered his underlings to retrieve the concealed items. Then, the chilling question hung in the air: "Are you going to kill me, too?"

"I'm tempted," Sukuna replied, "but not to kill you." His gaze fixated on your left hand, and he raised it, studying your ring finger. "You will pay for your father's crimes with your life." He held your hand in front of your face. "You will take my last name." His smirk widened, revealing perfect teeth. "Isn't that the cruelest form of death, love?"

Unconsciousness claimed you then, but after seven years of marriage, enduring unimaginable hardships, and finally welcoming a baby into the world, your answer was clear. The true torment wasn't caused by the man you once perceived as a monster but rather by his enemies.

"How am I supposed to know if Mr. Munchkin wants more tea? He's a fucking stuffed toy. Can't talk, you know?"

"Sukuna," you warned, perched on the armrest while busy crocheting baby socks for your little one on the way.

Nobara, wielding a rubber, squeaky hammer, stood up from her seat, giving her father a bonk on the head each time he let out a curse. And you often heard the squeak of the hammer around the house.

Nobara's tiara was slightly askew, frustration evident in her curled lips and bared teeth. She was growing increasingly irritated with her father's lack of understanding about the rules of her tea party. "Mr. Munchkin wants tea, Papa. Give him tea! Give him tea! Give him—"

"Fine, I surrender. Here, you little bastard. Take the whole fu—damn pot." He shoved the plastic teapot towards Mr. Munchkin, a well-loved cat stuffed toy you had gifted Nobara on her last birthday. "Happy?"

"Cup," she insisted, pointing at the tea cup in front of Mr. Munchkin.

Sukuna sighed and poured the water from the kettle into the pink plastic cup.

"Me too," Nobara added, settling back in her kiddie chair. Sukuna had barely taken his seat before she had him on the floor. "Hurry!"

"May I pour for the other toys first, Your Highness?"

"Not toys. Friends."

Sukuna shot you a helpless glare, eliciting a chuckle from you. He filled the table with tea, and Nobara, holding her small cup, clinked it with her father's, followed by her collection of stuffed animals. Sukuna reluctantly mimicked the gesture. Instead of sipping the tea, he downed it like a shot.

“Papa!”

“Sukuna, come on.”

There wasn’t any winning with his girls.

Sukuna reluctantly poured himself another cup, sipping it with an air of reluctance that mirrored a princess. Despite his resistance to the make-believe tea party, you couldn't ignore the genuine affection he showed toward his daughter. He would nod attentively when one of the stuffed animals "spoke," laughed along with Nobara, and even beautified himself with a glittering tiara, a feathered pink scarf, and deep purple-painted nails.

Sukuna was, without a doubt, a fantastic father. It came as no surprise that Nobara's first word was 'Brat.'

That night, you kissed your daughter goodnight and tucked her into her bed. Sukuna joked that he’d spent every last bit of his wealth decorating the brat’s room, filling it with the latest toys, and stacking her closet with whatever clothes she laid her finger or eyes on. She was truly the princess of her father’s heart.

"She's asleep," you informed him.

"I'll give her a kiss in a minute. Just need to finish this," Sukuna replied, pouring over his documents.

Letting out a sigh, you shuffled over, rolled back his chair, and settled onto his lap. He continued reading as you wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your cheek on his shoulder, peering at him through your lashes.

"I want you," you murmured.

Sukuna paused, lowering his gaze to meet your cheeky smile. "Later."

"It's late."

"I have to finish—" He halted as you began kissing his neck, moving up to his jaw and cheeks, tracing the contours of his face tattoos.

"Please, Sukuna," you whispered near his ear.

How could he refuse you anything when you appeared so stunning, radiating with the joy of expecting another child in your four-month-old belly?

“Take off your robe and get on the bed. Spread your legs for me.” He gave your ass a little smack as you happily skipped away, shedding your clothes and clearing the bed to settle in. With a grin, you opened your legs, propping yourself up on your elbows.

Sukuna stood up from his seat, loosening his robe as he did. He sighed, watching the moisture forming between your legs. Pregnancy seemed to heighten your lusts, and Sukuna was always ready to fulfill your needs.

“What pretty, wet cunt,” he whispered softly, leaning in to kiss your chest, trailing down to your stomach, your hips, your calling clit. 

Over the years, you realized Sukuna enjoyed pleasuring you more than the opposite. He feasted on you like a starved man, whether it happened in the back of the limo, in a guest room during a party, or just minutes before a crucial meeting in his office. He insisted it was his way of relaxing, often pleading with you to spend a full hour on his face as he ate you out and drank every drop of your release. It had turned into a daily routine for him. And for you.

“Oh, Sukuna, yes, yes. Right there—ah!” Your back arched off the mattress when his tongue drove into your hole, flicking and exploring your clamping walls. His mouth was latched to your pussy, sucking it in, his cheeks hollowing rapidly. Your fingers tightened in his hair, hips voluntarily grating against his face, his sharp nose rubbing over your swollen clit. 

Sukuna drew back as you came down with a muted cry behind your hand and lapped at the flow of your juices pouring out of you. His lips shone as he leaned over and gently kissed you, allowing you to taste yourself from his tongue. “If I don’t fuck you now, I will die.” 

“Hurry, then.” 

Sukuna pushed himself inside you, and that first wave of pleasure hit you so strongly that you sank your nails in his back and cried out heavenwards. He groaned and grunted, thrusts growing speed, his plump balls smacking against your ass. You loved that he fucked harder, faster, driving you to the brink of ruination. 

After you'd healed from Nobara's birth, he would always make sure to get at least ten orgasms from you. From midnight to early morning, he'd fuck you in every possible position. But his favorite was always missionary, where he could have his eyes on you, writhing and whimpering beneath him, telling him it’s too much, he's too thick, all while using your heels to draw him in even closer.

Sukuna curled his arm around your waist and sat you up on his lap, thrusting up into you as you coiled yourself around his neck. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. Your cunt was made for me, love. Your cunt was fucking made for me.” His hand threaded to the back of your head, grasping your hair and drawing your face back so you were looking him in the eyes without wavering, without bowing your head. He needed to know you didn’t fear him when he fucked you like this. It was an unspoken check-in, and when you smiled drunkenly, only then did he let you return to embracing him. 

“Are you close?” you whispered. 

“Not yet. I want to come in your ass.” 

You shivered despite how scalding and sweaty your bodies were. “Do it.” 

“Yeah?” 

You nodded. “Please.” 

Sukuna dragged you off his cock so you could get on all-fours, raising your ass up for him. He’s only ever been in your sacred spot a handful of times but never finished himself inside it. It appeared that tonight you were both a little extra spellbound.

Mounting himself behind you, Sukuna unfurled your ass and spit on his fingers, stroking the puckered hole. He gathered the creamy liquid dripping out of your pussy to lubricate the spot. His middle finger stretched you out, followed by his ring fingers, pushing in and out until he knew for sure you were prepared for him. 

Sukuna’s steel-hard cock pushed into your tiny hole. The sight of it expanding to swallow his girthy size almost made him come right there and then. He started to move in sluggish movement, grabbing onto your waist. His hips cruised, brushing against your ass, making you impatient and push yourself back. 

“Understood.” He chuckled and dug his nails into your skin, dragging out to the tip and shoving himself inside. Your face pressed into your pillows, crying and trembling as he abused your asshole non-stop. “You’re taking me so well, my love. Oh, fuck, fuck.” He rutted into you like a beast, claiming your body, rubbing your clit from the front, spanking your ass, brandishing you over and over again. 

You both snapped in unison. 

Sukuna sagged over your spine as he bucked in every last bit of his sloppy seed. His lips kissed your shoulder blades, holding you up by one arm. Gently, he pulled out, his cock growing floppy until you flipped onto your back, hair sticking to your sweaty, flushed face, belly slightly swollen, your tits larger in size, his release mingled with yours seeping out from your holes. 

“Fuck, I love you,” he whispered, cupping your face like he didn’t just fuck your soul out of you. That smirk you’d come to love appeared on his lips. You reciprocated back, stretching out your arms so he could lean down and kiss you sweetly on the lips and cheeks and toss in a praise or two for what a good girl you were as he slid into you again, slower and more intimate with his game. “I fucking love you, Y/N.” 

You smiled against his lips that continuously whispered the three beautiful words and said, “I love you, too, Sukuna,” before sealing it with a long, lasting kiss.

#mamas i’m afraid i ate with this #sukuna ryoumen x reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna imagine #sukuna x female reader #sukuna smut #jujutsu kaisen x female reader #sukuna x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #jjk x female reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x y/n #zaraswriting

[torubeth]

degradation taken too far (mature content 18+)

context/warnings : it’s smut, so kids shoo! hell of a lot of degradation. they’re so mean i hate them. (swearing, words used : slut and slutty) angst to i have no idea what. pls do lmk if i missed any tws. and as always, its not proofread :p gojo ver.

ryomen sukuna ‘is that all you can do? all your yapping earlier about ridin’ me was just talks? answer me’ his sudden shift in demeanour has you feeling really small. sure he is a rude ass prick but not to you. never to you.

‘no- i can take it. i really can ryo’ tears sting at your eyes as you struggle to take in his full length. his hands giving your waist a small squeeze.

‘yeah and that’s all you’ve been saying for the past goddamn fifteen minutes. either you take it like a good girl or i’ll just have to find someone who will. trust me, i can’ he eyes held no remorse of the words he just spewed and that’s when you break.

correction, you shatter.

somewhere in the back of your head you knew he’ll never leave you but him wording it out makes it seem like it’s bound to happen.

and so tears stroll down your cheeks, your hands and legs giving out on you, your body going limp against his and you whisper the same thing over and over again.

‘don’t leave me ryo. i’m sorry. didn’t mean to upset you. i’m so sorry. don’t leave’

quickly his arms wrap around your body protectively, your face between his shoulder blade and neck, wetting the area with fresh batch of tears.

‘i could never leave you. you’re-’ you’re it for me. ‘you’re always the one that keeps me sane. there’s no way i’ll ever leave you. i’m sorry baby, forgive me. i didn’t mean a word of what i said’ he says.

when he didn’t get a response from you ‘look at me’ he whispers. slowly you leave the comfort of his neck and meet his eyes.

‘i didn’t mean it. you could leave me on deathbed and i still wouldn’t mean it’

‘i can’t leave you ryo. i love you way too much’ you sniffle, new tears threatening to spill so you go back to huddle against his neck.

god. he knows you mean it. and that’s what makes him feel like a dickhead.

‘me too, i- i lo-’ he struggles, just as your palm reaches up to cover his mouth.

‘i know ryo, i know’ you whisper, placing your forehead against his, both of you basking in the quietness of the surrounding.

geto suguru ‘fuckin-! ah shit! some insane grip you have on me baby. can’t move if you clench and lock me up like that’ he smirks against your neck.

‘and a bit quiet today ain’t ya? you sure had a lot to say to satoru earlier heh’ he remarks.

‘we were just catching up suguru, nothing-! nothing more’ you whine.

‘catching up you say? does catching up require smiles and touches? do they angel baby?’ he raises his eyebrows.

‘no..’ you avert your eyes away from his.

‘that’s what i thought. so for that, now you pay’ he pulls out suddenly, and pushes all the way back in making you yelp out loud.

‘sugu! ah fuck, i don’t think i can go another round baby. s’too much!’ the pressure was starting to get to you and you were starting to lose stability.

‘hah, i know you can baby, this slutty pussy’s all you’re good for anyway. fuck, doesn’t matter whose it is, as long as you’re filled. am i right?’ his words pierced straight through your heart.

since when did he-?

out of reflex, your hands reach out to touch his face to make sure that this was a dream nightmare. otherwise there’s no way he-

‘don’t touch me with those filthy hands’ he spits but makes no effort to push your hand off.

‘do you really think that’s all i’m good for?’ your voice is soft, filled with pain, and suddenly it’s like he’s broken out of his trance.

what the fuck am i doing, he thought.

slowly he pulls out, all whilst holding your hand against his cheek.

‘absolutely not. no. fuck, did not mean it angel. i promise. i- i don’t know what came over me-! didn’t mean it. please i’m sorry. next time if i ever lose my shit with you, i want you to take the nearest sharp object and plunge it into my chest’ he heaves out a guttural sigh.

‘you were really mean you know..’ you wipe your eyes.

‘i know baby, fuck. i didn’t mean it. i did not mean it. i’ll never do it again princess, ever’ he repeats.

his face lands on your chest, thanking all the gods and the stars out there for giving him another chance.

he’ll never screw up again and that’s a promise.

nanami kento ‘you really couldn’t wait for a few hours? just had to go and think with your cunt, right? have you no- ugh! no shame?’ his thrusts were sloppy as his hands were placed around your hips.

‘kento- slow down baby, i- i don’t think i can last’ you whine, hands clutching at the sheets.

‘no. you asked for this you little slut. so shut. the. fuck. up. and take it!’ each syllable was accompanied by a harsh thrust.

the usually composed, sweet and calm nanami was nowhere to be found. he’s never once called you a ‘slut’ and what caused this? you rubbing him through his pants and riling him up at his office dinner earlier tonight.

he warned you off multiple times but did you listen? no.

‘why are you so quiet now? i thought this is what you wanted’ his voice comes out raspy and cold.

a quiet but audible whimper escaped your lips, making him halt his actions.

slowly he pulled out, gently laying you on your back as your body shook with each sob.

‘sweetheart…? why are you…’

you look up at him, eyes puffy and swolllen ‘i’m sorry kento, it’s just that, you’re never home these days and i missed you so much’ a cry that’s sure to crack his heart leaves your lips.

‘i just wanted you all to myself for tonight but i didn’t mean to be a bother-’

his warm body hovers over yours, ‘you’re never a bother baby. always know that. you will always be at the top of every and any list i make. there’s nothing more i want than coming home to you everyday after work. and i didn’t mean to lash out at you. you didn’t deserve that, i’m sorry’ he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

‘you will always have me sweetheart, never forget that. now let me make it up to you yeah?’

#bro i’m actually so scared to post this cuz i’ve never written anything like it before god bless #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #geto smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #geto x reader smut #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen smut #sukuna smut #geto x reader #nanami smut #sukuna x reader smut #sukuna x reader #nanami kento smut

[horrorartsworld]

all work & no play

lucifer morningstar/clingy in heat f!reader

warnings: 18+ nsfw content, breeding kink, daddy kink

a/n: i’m not kidding the brain rot is real with this man…

(pic creds: @/AncestralSinner on twt!!)

Lucifer was off on a business meeting with the angels which left you all alone bored and lonesome.

Of course you were missing him…

and of course it was your time of season.

You went back and forth one whether or not you should call him, checking the time almost every second until finally his meeting would be over in the next 5 minutes.

It wouldn’t hurt to call before it ended right?

Hitting his caller id number without a second thought and clicking facetime waiting patiently as you let it ring.

After the third or fourth ring you hear his sweet voice come through, “Hi my pretty girl…what’ve you been up to!”

Your thighs instantly coming together as you nibbled at your bottom lip at how just by seeing him your body temperature skyrocketed.

“I’ve been missing you daddy~” you pout at the screen using a baby voice as you watch his attention avert from you for a moment making your heart practically ache.

“Aww I miss you too honey…i’ll be home in a little bit okay!” his attention still elsewhere but on you. Who could possibly be having all his attention right now besides his baby?

You huff a little at this knowing you were in heat and he wasn’t here to help you.

Then a lightbulb goes off above your head as you held the phone out in front of you, starting to tease yourself a little. Rubbing your hand over your tits, grabbing and squeezing at them and then letting a hand slip under skirt to tease your pussy through your panties letting out a soft whimper causing Lucifer to put his attention back onto you in bewilderment.

Seeing you all desperate and needy that you had to call him on the phone finally put the thought in his mind that you were in heat. His eyes darkening instantly and his forked tongue darting out to lick his lips as he felt like he was practically drooling at the sight of you.

“Oh my sweet baby is in heat huh?” he coos softly as he started making his way out of the building hastily and back onto the streets of Hell.

You nod with still a pout playing at your lips as you start rubbing small circles against your clothed clit.

“Let me see~” his voice dropping an octave loosing it’s usual bubbly like nature.

Shifting the phone down to your skirt you move your panties to the side showing your already soaking entrance. Delicate fingers spreading yourself open to show off your sweet little hole to him that was aching to be filled.

“Fuuuuuck baby~” Lucifer moans on the other side of the phone not caring what sinner saw their overlord in such a primal and vulnerable state with his little girl begging him to breed her on the phone.

His hard-on straining so painful against his pants, which a couple whores on the street gave a whistle to and made him offers to come back with them, but he was so infatuated with you in heat right now he could careless, with your guys shared home being only two more blocks away.

“Just be a good girl and wait for daddy okay? I’ll be right there~” nodding obediently as Lucifer unexpectedly hangs up the phone making you huff once more.

You weren’t sure what to do with yourself for those few minutes, but before you could think about it there was a sound of keys jiggling at the door making you perk up within an instant.

The door swung open revealing Lucifer with his chest rising and falling rather quickly as his wings had been flared out now slowly going away in a ‘poof’ Seeming as though he flew here in a hurry just to please you.

“Oh come to daddy~” he purred with his arms outstretched and a hungry look dancing in his eye.

You didn’t hesitate as you walked over to him swaying your hips in a saucy manner which he quite liked as his eyes bounced with each movement. Wrapping your arms around his neck as you gave him a sweet kiss.

Lucifer hummed against your lips pleased as his hands started to slowly glide from down your waist to grab up under your thighs, hoisting you up to carry you back over to the sofa you were sitting on earlier.

Sitting himself down with you nestled in his lap facing him. His hands feeling how warm your skin was against his fingertips as just his touch was making you squirm against him, innocent lap sitting turned into you desperately grinding against him just to get off some how.

“W-woah slow down princess” he massages your hips pulling away from the kiss as he was starting to get more hot himself.

His hard-on from before still very much erect as it was nestled between your thighs igniting the heat deep in your core. You feel a little embarrassed and shy now that he was in front of you, but you just couldn’t stop humping him.

“I-I can’t” you sniffle, needing to feel relief so badly it hurts.

“Oh my sweet girl, it’s okay, shh.” he tries to calm you down as he gives a soft kiss to your forehead and squeezes your hips a little.

"You want daddy to make you feel nice and full. Is that right?" feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks as you nod, but you still can't control the way your hips are moving.

"Maybe claim you completely…Would you like that?"

Hearing his warm words in your ear was driving you up the wall, kneading your hands against his shoulders as a more pleading look decorated your features.

“Tell daddy baby~..” kissing your ear gently then peppering wet kisses down your neck.

Your mind so full of your arousal like this you had a hard time with forming your words.

“I w-want yo-ou~” you muster out softly as you then got up from your spot on his lap turning yourself around to present yourself to him.

Lucifer is nearly at a loss for words, too, seeing your cute little behind and the obvious wet patch on your panties where your skirt had been hiked up.

"Y-you want me in there?”

You nod gingerly as he then rubs a thumb over the wet patch lightly grazing your clit against your panties making you whine. He cruses under his breath as he doesn’t hesitate pulling you back down against his lap after making that noise showing how eager he was getting himself.

"You wanna come sit on my cock?" he offers, tugging your panties aside with a moan, seeing how your dripping down your thighs for him.

"Right here, angel" he pulls his angry erection out from his nice dress pants, lining himself up and stretching you open.

You feel the spread of his tip that could satisfy you alone with the width and thickness, but he couldn’t hold back anymore as he pulled you down onto him with a groan, "S-sweetheart…you’re soo tight~”

You whimper as that ache in your tummy was finally being satisfied with ease and loving. Looking back to see Lucifer completely entranced with you going up and down his length with his guide, his lower lip sucked in between his teeth.

"Fuck that's it, baby- you’re doing such a good job for daddy," he coos then pulling your body closer, pressing kisses to the back of your neck in his warm embrace.

He fucks away your embarrassment of being in such incredible need, with that fiery heat inside you. It all starts melting away, dripping down his cock until you feel him start to pulse and throb inside you.

"I-I’m s-so m fucking close-"

"P-please cum daddy" You mewl, hearing him growl behind you as you egged him on making him grab your hips a little firmer as he brought you down on him harder. Turning back at him once more to see that gorgeous, pleasured look on his face as he gets his first orgasm.

Breathing heavily now, you go to stand up to let him rest, but his hands grab onto your waist once more and he keeps you seated on his length.

"You wanna go again?"

He feels you clenching on him already with that surprised look on your face.

"Haha, why should we stop there?..I don’t got any meetings tommorrow- so i can give you allllll the attention you want”

He knows that when his sweet girl is in heat that she needs all the attention she can get…Not only with lots of love, but a nice long dick that’ll keep her filled with it’s cum.

He just wanted to make you happy.

Hearing this almost had you to the point of crying tears a pure joy that it was almost overwhelming that he wanted to take care of you like this.

So you let him do just that all night long, till he had you resting against his bare chest completely spent letting out soft sighs as you slept. He couldn’t help but smile down at his pretty girl cuddled up against him, pulling a blanket over the two of you before whispering, “i love you”, giving you a soft kiss amongst your head and then settling him self down for a much needed rest.

#☆⋆｡𖦹 my writings #☆⋆｡𖦹 lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin imagine #hazbin #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer smut #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar smut

[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ LIKE THE WAY I FUCK ('CAUSE I GET ROUGH) — an undercover mission with your superiors leads to compromised positions (in more ways than one)

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + könig

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, canon-divergence, age difference, slight power imbalance, jealous/possessive behaviour, discussions of violence, tags to be added

// NSFW CONTENT BELOW THE CUT //

Turns out, undercover missions involve a lot more make-up, perfume and dresses than you'd anticipated.

Being a seasoned task force operator, it's been months, if not years since you've been to a party outside of your barracks. Let alone one of this calibre; CEOs, billionaires on Forbes Top 50, politicians.

It's off-putting. 

All of it; it's stressful, and it feels as though your skin's crawling, having so much skin on display, so many eyes on you at once. You feel as though you’re an animal at a zoo, being inspected by families with their snotty-nosed kids.

"Sit-rep, Diamond?"

Swallowing around a dry mouth, you reply to your lieutenant's request through your earpiece, tone low and careful. "All as planned, Lt."

Ghost hums a low sound in reply, and your shoulders loosen slightly from their tense position.

You knew that your superior was already inside, having arrived ten minutes earlier. A small, selfish part of you wished that you'd have arrived with him, if only to see how he cleaned up.

Ghost? In a suit? It's like one of your deepest, most dirty of desires come to life.

Such thoughts that you'd never let leave your lips -- thoughts too likely to wreck your entire career and any opportunity to keep your relationship with the man.

"König?" Is Ghost's next question, although it's just the other man's name alone.

Right.

König.

The other superior featured in your dreams. Thoughts. Wank-material?

Whatever they are, they're becoming all too common, all too realistic, and all too risky.

"Successful entry," König replies, heavily accented voice low and quiet -- he's amongst people.

Your limo comes to a stop outside of the decorated museum, and a suited man opens your door with gloved hands. His upper lip is covered in a well-groomed pencil moustache, and you have to stifle a chuckle. Soap would’ve appreciated it.

With a small smile, you incline your head towards him, lifting up the fabric of your skirt so it doesn't brush against the gravel. It’s so… impractical, and you really can’t help but respect those that dress up like this on a regular basis. Looking down at your outfit, you let out a low breath.

When Gaz and Soap had burst into your room with shit-eating grins and a garment bag, you had just known that your dress was going to be... extravagant at best, and downright sinful at worst.

You were correct, of course.

So, here you are, walking down the red carpet into the building, cameras flashing and paparazzi screaming, in this... dress.

Silky black, strapless, and with crossing lines of fabric across your bare back. Chiffon skirts fall behind you, with a slit rising all the way up to where your thigh meets your hip bone. A gun hides beneath, strapped around your inner thigh, paired with your right, adorning a delicate yet hefty knife.

You look... not at all like a Sergeant on Task Force 141.

You look like a celebrity, one just out of her fans' reach. It's a surreal experience, and the mere thought of your two superiors (crushes) seeing you like this... It's frightening. Maddening. And, maybe, a tad bit exhilarating.

Gaz had insisted on doing your make-up -- having so many sisters made him a fully-fledged artist, apparently. And an artist he was, talented with the brushes of eyeshadow and flicks of eyeliner against your skin.

Soap, for his part, had begged for you to let him do your hair -- but considering his only experience was his mohawk, you were less than lenient. With a huff, he’d let you go to Laswell’s wife with the request, as long as he picked out your jewellery.

And now, hours later, your heels click against the stone tile as you enter the museum.

Soft lighting cascades all of the guests in gentle hues of yellow, laughter and polite mingling surrounding you as you enter the main ballroom, skirts brushing against your legs.

Chandeliers above glisten, a live-band plays beautiful jazz, and servers walk around with trays of champagne and finger foods.

It's nothing like you've ever experienced.

This mission, somehow, terrifies you more than the weight of a sniper in your hand and an order to neutralise.

"Target, six o'clock," Ghost's voice carries through your comms as you take position near the corner of the room. There’s fewer people here, and it allows you a moment to breathe and recalibrate.

Your eyes dart to the direction your lieutenant has supplied, and you catch sight of your target immediately. "Got eyes," you murmur softly, smile on your face as you pretend to fix your hair.

"Affirmative," König answers then.

"I haven't seen you before."

Whipping around to the source of the words, you find yourself face to face with a man who you've seen the face of too many times to count.

"Apologies for startling you," he inclines his head respectfully. He's got a few inches on you -- although you find it hard to consider him tall when you're with your superiors more often than not. His skin is closely-shaved, his blonde hair gelled to the nines -- and a smarmy, trust-fund baby smirk to top it all off.

Extending his hand, he announces, "I'm Phillip. Phillip Graves."

...Graves.

The last name of your target -- the son of your target.

"I'm Louise," you say with a sweet smile, taking his hand and shaking it. Your undercover name was going to have to come into play sooner than you'd hoped. "It's a lovely atmosphere, isn't it?"

"Positive, Diamond?" Ghost's deep voice instantly responds to your subtle codeword.

"Not as lovely as you, I'm sure," Phillip flirts, and you pretend to bat your lashes and hide your face from him.

"Ah... thank you, Sir. You're quite dashing yourself," you meekly reply, giving him a soft smile. 

Men like this were so easily played, you found. Not at all like the military men you were surrounded with on such a constant basis. Not at all like…

You can hear both König and Ghost swear underneath their breaths. Releasing the hold on your bracelet -- the one with the built-in comms button -- you shyly bite at your lower lip.

Phillip’s eyes track the movement, and if not for the stakes of this mission, it'd be almost comical.

"May I have this dance?" He asks, offering his arm for you to take. He’s adorning an obviously wealthy suit, dark blue and silky – and it rubs you in all the wrong ways.

You can hear your heart pound in your ears -- this wasn't the way the mission was supposed to go. But, then again, you didn't get into Task Force 141 by expecting every mission to go as planned.

"I would love to, Sir," you smile, wrapping your hand around his arm, allowing him to escort you to the main dance floor.

Subtly folding your hands together around his arm, you're able to push down the button on your bracelet. "You want us to dance in the middle of everyone? I'm not the best of dance partners..."

Phillip chuckles, but through your inner ear piece, you can hear König report, "Got eyes, Diamant."

Chills run down your spine. Either from this situation or…

Or something else that you're not entirely supposed to -- or allowed to -- feel. Not for those two men, and certainly not for your superiors.

"I'll lead you, darlin’," Phillip leans down to whisper into your ear, his lips brushing against your skin. They’re thin, and chapped against your own skin.

His hand moves to sit at your lower back, just above your ass, and the other moves down your arm to interlace your fingers with his. It's an intimate position, your front pressing against his as he starts to lead you with the beat.

Of course you knew how to dance; you wouldn't have been picked for this role if you couldn't. 

However, you deliberately misstep a few times, just to play into Phillip’s ego -- his desire for control and intelligence. 

"For such a beautiful girl, you sure aren't the smartest," he jests, and it takes everything within you not to just swing your fist and leave him twitching on the dance floor. You could, realistically speaking, but that would cost you all the mission. And you would not let yourself, nor König or Ghost, down.

Instead, you nervously flit your gaze from him, moving in closer to his chest. By his squeeze on your lower back, you know it's the right decision. "I... I'm doing my best, Sir."

You want to crawl out of your own skin at the way you’re feeding into his misogyny, how you’re downplaying your own strengths.

He huffs, a demeaning, cruel thing.

"I want to shoot 'im," you hear Ghost mutter, and you'd be a liar to say that those words in that tone don't make you clench your thighs together as you sway against Phillip.

"Make it a competition, ja?" König quips. There's... irritation -- anger, maybe -- behind his question. It's so unlike the gentle giant of a man, and that fact alone has your breath coming out in a short pant.

Phillip, of course, thinks it's him making you so flushed.

With a vindictive smirk, he spins you, completely throwing you off balance. Maybe a tad too dramatically, you find yourself falling into his arms, giggling a little bit.

...It's worth it to hear Ghost grumble under his breath through the comms.

This whole situation doesn't feel quite real, and you know that their attitudes are nearly definitely due to the stray in plans. That's fine. That's all it can possibly be. It’s all that you’ll allow it to be.

But your mind has never been kind, and your imagination has always had the habit of wandering.

"Let's go get some drinks, hm?" Phillip asks, his hand falling dangerously close to 'inappropriate hand placement' territory.

You shoot him a seductive smile, nodding as he pulls you to the open bar, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, leaving you glued to his side. It’s a possessive position, and you find yourself wishing it was either of your superiors holding you in such a way instead.

"Don't drink anything he offers you," Ghost warns. You almost have the mind to chew him out for not trusting you with something so obvious, but... There's something about such subtle 

protectiveness that only feeds your elementary style crush on the man.

"I would love to," you reply as Graves leads you to the bar, hand only moving lower with every step the two of you take. Fear trickles down your spine, your hands squeezing tightly together at your front.

"Say the word and we get you outta' there, Princess," Ghost quips, sharp and to the point.

With your hands already together, you manage to reply an agreement in Morse code -- quick, successive taps of the communications button.

"Good girl," König replies, just a touch breathy from the quietness of his words.

You manage not to trip on your feet, but it's a close thing.

a small snippet, because i feel really bad for my lack of posts!! life is so insane atm its like a satire.

#⌨️ : love's writing #konig x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #call of duty x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #konig smut #konig cod #konig x ghost #ghost x you #ghost x konig x reader #poly cod x reader #poly cod #könig x reader #könig cod #könig x ghost #ghost x könig x reader #ghost smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader

[wineauntie]

WEAR THE HAT (RIDE THE COWBOY) — quinn hughes x fem!reader

summary:in which, Quinn Hughes thinks you should save a horse! (…and ride a cowboy)

note: oh this is a longggg one! Also confident + cowboy quinn is superior >

warnings: 18+ content, MDNI, sexual content, p in v, nicknames like pretty girl, baby and sweetheart, use of y/n, pining galore, enemies to lovers realness, Quinn with a dirty mouth that loves to praise you.

word count: 4.3k

You very much, very disliked Quinn Hughes. You always had and you could pinpoint the exact moment where it all began.

You had moved next door to the Hughes family when you were eleven. You’d cried the entire journey, sad to leave your old friends and old house. This misery stayed with you, even as you spotted three kids playing in the street, and even when you’d spotted your new home.

You’d hurriedly dried your eyes as your Mom had parked the car, desperately trying to hide your sadness. You’d plastered a smile across your face, but as soon as you’d stepped out of the car, you found yourself tumbling backwards onto the gravel, due to a plastic puck to the forehead, shot at you by none other than Quinn Hughes himself.

You’d carried a bump, a bruise and a pure dislike for the boy at that very moment.

His brothers on the other hand were great. Jack, who was only a year your junior, was one of your closest childhood friends, the two of you as thick as thieves when it came to neighbourhood shenanigans. And Luke as a child was obsessed with you. In his mind, you were his sister and he wanted to do everything by your side.

…but Quinn?

He never apologised for the rogue puck, nor had he made any attempt to be nice towards you or make conversation. In fact, every time you were in the same vicinity as him, he acted like your presence was the biggest inconvenience, ignoring you at every turn and fleeing whenever you showed up.

And so the silent feud persevered and the thorough dislike felt was an emotion well-shared.

You rid your head of all those thoughts as you climbed out of your car which you had parked just down the street from the Hughes’ lake house. It was Halloween at the Hughes’, despite it being the middle of July.

Halloween was always a big holiday in the Hughes’ household, so when the brothers couldn’t celebrate it together in October due to their demanding careers, Jack had come up with the clever idea to hold a costume party once a year in the midst of summer to give everyone a chance to let loose and have a bit of fun.

So here you were, in the middle of July, dressed in denim daisy dukes, a brown tank top and brown, leather cowboy boots. You’d thrown together your costume in a matter of minutes, hell-bent on borrowing the brown cowboy hat you regularly saw hanging on the coatrack in the Hughes home.

Your boots clattered against the pavement as you approached the lake house, the sound of music and people talking, singing and dancing seeped out into the night air of Michigan. You pushed open the door, being instantly greeted by a wave of heat and a faint smell of alcohol wafting through the air.

“y/n!”

You whipped your head towards the crowded living room where Luke had clambered over the couch, to reach you. You stumbled backwards as he threw his arms around you, your chuckles radiating as he rocked you side to side in joy.

“I thought you weren’t going to come,” he whined as he pulled away, finally letting you look at the costume he adorned.

“And pass up free drinks?…never,” you hummed, fixing his black robe. “Also, I’m loving the costume, Anakin.” Luke grinned and scratched his head as he glanced down at his costume bashfully.

“I love your…oh my god,” Luke trailed off as he read your tank top, his eyes widening and cheeks blazing as he slapped a hand over his mouth.

You beamed from ear to ear as you glanced down at your shirt which conveniently read “Save a horse, ride a cowboy.”

“I’m a cowgirl, Luke,” You laughed, “actually, where’s that cowboy hat I always see when I’m around here? And can I borrow it please?”

Luke’s look of shock and amusement remained laced across his features as he glanced around the party.

“What?” You asked in confusion, following his eyeline only to freeze where you stood. “No…god, no, Luke!”

“I think the hat’s already in use,” Luke spoke, lowering his lips to your ear so you could hear him as he shuffled to your side. “Bye!”

Luke laughed heartedly, patting you on the shoulder before he returned to his friends in the living room, leaving your eyes locked on the sight ahead of you as a scowl crept onto your face.

Standing right ahead of you, sipping a drink as he talked to friends was Quinn Hughes…dressed from head to toe as a cowboy.

Fuck. Your. Life.

This was great, this was just fantastic. You wanted to rip your hair out in frustration, especially when you saw how good he looked in it.

One thing you refused to ever mention, was that despite your deep-rooted dislike for him, the eldest Hughes brother had been one of your first crushes because let’s be honest, objectively, Quinn Hughes was a good-looking man. You’d have to be a fool not to notice it. Your childhood crush on him had faded, yet every once and a while, it poked its ugly head out and caused you to go into full lockdown mode.

And now, seeing him in denim jeans, a grey shirt that stretched around his thick biceps and the cowboy hat you’d intended to steal, the ugly head of your childhood crush flared up, screaming at you to act on your desires.

With a huff, you folded your arms over your chest and headed towards the kitchen to grab a drink to wash Quinn out of your mind.

Hours later and a few drinks in, you found yourself sitting on the couch, with your legs strewn across the cushions, a plastic cup in hand, and a mind buzzing with alcohol-induced courage. The party had escalated into chaos as the night wore on, with laughter, music, and questionable dance moves scattered around the home.

Despite your initial annoyance at Quinn's unexpected presence, you had managed to avoid any direct interaction with him throughout the evening, skilfully avoiding him. However, as the night continued, you couldn't help but find yourself stealing glances across the room at the eldest Hughes brother. He seemed relaxed, chatting effortlessly with his friends, his cowboy attire adding a rugged charm to his usual demeanour.

Lord, you needed to get a grip.

But each time your gaze lingered on him, a vicious and conflicting mix of irritation and attraction stirred within you.

On your latest trip to the kitchen, you had glanced backwards and the party’s noise dulled as Quinn's eyes met yours. Even from across the room, you could see his nostrils flare and his eyes flash with an emotion you couldn’t place. For a brief moment, the world completely stilled as the intensity of his gaze pierced through the crowd. You quickly averted your eyes, heart pounding in your chest, but the memory of his piercing stare lingered, igniting a flame within you.

You’d abandoned your mission of heading the the kitchen and had swiftly taken back up your residence on the house’s couch, lounging back into the cushions, feeling rather flustered from the minimal interaction.

"Hey, y/n!" Jack's voice boomed over the music, snapping you out of your thoughts. He plopped down on the couch beside you, a wide grin plastered on his face. "Having fun?"

"Yeah, it's been a blast," You nodded, offering him a lopsided smile as your head lolled toward him. He had chosen to be a football player for the evening, adorning a jersey and eye black smeared on his cheekbones.

Jack chuckled, nudging your shoulder playfully. "Glad you could make it,” he spoke up, raising his voice to be heard. “You know, Quinn's been asking about you."

"Really? Why?" You asked defensively, as your eyebrows shot up in surprise, a mixture of scepticism and intrigue swirling in your head.

"Who knows?” Jack shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “Maybe he wants to bury the hatchet or something."

"I highly doubt that."

But deep down, a small glimmer of hope flickered within you. Could it be possible Jack was telling the truth? The thought sent a strum of anticipation coursing through your veins and straight to your beating heart.

Before you could dwell further on the matter, Jack grabbed your hand, excitement evident in his eyes. "Come on, let's get a drink!" He urged, pulling you onto your feet as you allowed Jack to yank you towards the kitchen and straight past his older brother, whose eyes seemed to be locked on your figure.

–

You didn’t know how long it had been since the kitchen, but right now you were holed up in one of the bathrooms upstairs, staring at yourself in the mirror. You were at that wonderful stage of tipsy where the world was good and bright.

A sudden and loud bang on the door rattled its structure as you groaned and banged back.

“Occupied,” you practically sang, your eyes flitting from the mirror to the door.

“You can’t be up here, it’s off limits,” the deep voice called back sending butterflies cascading through your stomach. With a giggle, you opened the door and shook your head.

“Move on, Hughes,” You tutted, “you should never hurry a woman in a bathroom.”

Quinn’s eyes widened a fraction from where he was leaning against the door frame, expecting there to be someone hooking up or throwing up inside of the bathroom.

“This is still out of bounds,” he eventually sighed, his arms folding across his chest.

“Even for me,” you fluttered your eyelashes jokingly, biting your lip as you stared at Quinn’s unmoving figure.

“Especially for you.”

It was as if those words sent all of your insecurities tumbling down, each one of them being thrown in your face as your upbeat persona completely dropped. You suddenly felt rather sober, all of the adrenaline and fun seeping from your body.

“Fine,” you hissed, bumping his shoulder as you passed. You were going to head down to the party but you felt your body turn back to face him before you could. “Actually, no!”

“You have a real stick up your ass you know that, right? I tried to be civil with you but all I get back is whatever this…” you gestured to his disgruntled state. “–is. I’m done trying. It’s obvious you don’t like me, so quit staring and quit asking about me. We don’t have to be friends or even be civil anymore, we can just stop.”

You turned around towards the stairs with gritted teeth, before you spun around on your heel once more.

“Oh and for the record, you stole my intended hat,” you pettily huffed, slowly reaching up and taking the hat from Quinn’s head before pulling it onto your own. “I’m taking it back for the rest of the night.”

A sigh fell from Quinn’s lips as you fixed the hat on your head with a smirk, nodding to nothing as you looked up at the man once more.

“Now, I’m done,” you eventually hummed in satisfaction, walking back towards the stairs.

Before you could get any further, you felt Quinn's arm snake around your waist, pulling you back towards him, his chest meeting your spine. Opening your mouth the argue once more, you found yourself faltering, feeling his nose brush along the supple skin of your neck, the scruff of his beard leaving a wonderful tingling in its wake.

"Haven't heard you heard, pretty girl?" His voice rasped, his lips skimming the shell of your ear as your heart quickened. "You wear the hat, you ride the cowboy."

Your breath caught in your throat at his closeness, his cologne engulfing you as your heart fluttered in your chest.

“Quinn…” you struggled to say, your body pliant as he slowly turned you so you were chest to chest with him.

“Had to watch you all night walking around in those little shorts without a care in the world that everyone was watching you,” He continued, his hand reaching up to brush hair out of your face. “But you were watching me, hm? You always do, even when we were younger.”

Your mouth was slightly agape as you remained quiet, your eyes following Quinn’s that dropped to your lips briefly.

“Think I haven’t noticed it?” He spoke, his nose brushing gently against yours. “Oh, sweetheart, why don’t you ask me how I noticed.”

You couldn’t find the words to speak as you tried to process what was happening and why you liked being held like this by him.

“C’mon, don’t go all quiet on me now… go and ask.”

“How..?” your chest rose and fell unsteadily, warmth rushing around your body at you and Quinn’s close proximity. “How did you notice?”

You watched as his head lifted slightly, a soft chuckle breaking from his lips.

“Because I was watching you,” He stated, his voice an octave above a whisper as he locked his deep and softening eyes on yours. “I always watched you, starting from the moment I hit you with that damned puck.”

“You never apologised for that,” your stubborn remark mixed with the need that your voice trembled with.

“How was awkward, twelve-year-old me ever going to walk up to a pretty girl and try to explain himself?”

“You thought I was pretty?”

“I think you’re the most beautiful girl, I’ve ever seen.”

You ducked your head before Quinn tutted and lifted your head with a warming smile.

“You got me nervous,” he admitted, his voice soft in a way you’ve never heard before. “So when I hit you, I grabbed the puck and pretended it didn’t happen. It was only after that, did I realise what I had just done.”

Quinn sucked in a small breath as he continued, his thumb caressing over your cheekbone in soothing strokes.

“I tried to apologise to you so many times but you hated me too, you know? I’d already pissed you off, I didn’t want you to thoroughly hate me.”

His confession sliced at your heart but your body radiated in a desirous heat that ensnared all of your senses, as you leaned closer to his body, relishing the firmness of his chest and the way it rumbled when you’d stepped closer.

“I don’t think I could ever hate you, Quinn,” you whispered, your hands reaching up to hold onto his biceps.

“Can I kiss you?” Quinn’s hoarse voice murmured, causing your thighs to clench in anticipation. “Please?”

A primal desperation swept over you as you nodded and pulled Quinn down onto your lips. Your lips met in a clash, electricity humming around you as he swept his tongue along your lip.

For a first kiss with him, this was better than you had ever imagined.

The two of you remained locked, Quinn’s hold from where he cupped your cheeks, grounding you to the earth as you grasped at his arms to steady the sudden lightness that filled your body.

When the two of you withdrew to catch your breath, his forehead dropped to rest against yours as the two of you breathed one another in. The party downstairs was a distant memory as you surrounded yourself in Quinn and the moment that lingered in the air.

Another moment passed before the two of you jumped straight back into the kiss, the addictive excitement driving the two of you. Kissing Quinn was like driving fast with the windows down in summer; hot, freeing and thrilling.

Your hands tangled at the back of his neck as he held you tighter to his skin, one of his hands dropping to your lower back to press you against him.

A loud clatter from the stairs caused the both of you to pull apart, watching as two of Jack’s drunken friends almost face-planted. Quinn reached back out to you and dipped his head to whisper in your ear.

“Jump.”

Without another thought or complaint, you jumped into his awaiting arms, your legs locking around his waist as he carried you to his room, down the hall and out of sight from prying eyes. Quinn’s lips found yours in a feverish dance as he pushed his back against his door, to open it before he brought you inside and kicked it closed.

“Quinn,” you found yourself panting, your heart beating a mile a minute as the heat of your flesh became unbearable, the desire to have his hands all over you overwhelming your senses. “I want you.”

“You have me,” Quinn smirked, his head lowering to press kisses along the curve of your neck as he slowly sat on his bed.

Still entangled around him, your legs straddled his thighs as he pulled you close. His hands moved to your waist, holding you as he continued his tirade of kisses down your neck, pausing only to suckle on the sweet flesh casting a darkening bruise on your skin.

Soft moans of pleasure tumbled from your parted lips as your hips moved forward and back on his lap, desperate for any friction or satisfaction.

“Look at you squirming, you need it bad, hm?” Quinn teasingly murmured against your skin whilst you whined at his words, your hips rocking. “What do you say, pretty girl, want to ride a cowboy?”

His words caused a pure and animalistic craving to wrack through.

“Please,” you gasped out as he nipped your neck, brushing his tongue over the mark.

“I’ve got you,” Quinn whispered, tossing the hat from your head, his hands whipping your tank top over your head to leave you in only your bra. You felt a breath escape you at the sudden movement, your head dropping forward to look at him.

“Beautiful,” he commented with half-lidded eyes, lingering on your exposed flesh as one of his hands lifted to undo the back of the bra. The bra fell swiftly with your help, your arms tossing it somewhere into the darkness of Quinn’s room.

Quinn’s eyes darkened at the sight of your bare chest, his tongue running along his bottom lip as he admired you. You whimpered as he grasped your breast in his hand, kneading the supple flesh, eliciting a sharp moan from your lips.

“Never seen anything more perfect in my life,” he spoke, bowing his head to swirl his tongue over your nipple, his other hand pinching and kneading the other in a perfect contrast of pleasurable tension. Your hips ground down onto the growing bulge in his pants, relishing the raw material of his jeans against your shorts. He kissed across the valley of your breasts, capturing your other nipple in his mouth, showing it the same amount of attention as the other.

You were a stuttering mess, when he eventually withdrew, his eyes dark and careful as he slowly lifted you from his thighs and placed you on your shaky legs.

“Last chance, pretty girl,” Quinn breathed out, his fingers dancing along the waist of your shorts. “You sure you want this?”

Without breaking eye contact, you unbuttoned your shorts and let them fall to your ankles, stepping out of their constraints before you climbed back onto Quinn’s lap.

“I was promised a ride,” you simpered, your eyes ablaze as you bit down your lip. Your hands ran over his clothed chest, pulling the hem up, revealing Quinn’s sculpted body. He slowly sat up, allowing you to completely yank the grey shirt over his head.

In a sudden move, he gripped your hips and spun you, changing your positions so that you were pinned beneath Quinn, your chest palpitating as your eyes flared with a venereal need.

He stepped away from your body, slowly unbuttoning his jeans, as you moved to prop yourself onto your elbows.

With bated breath, you watched Quinn as he shed his clothes, your heart racing with anticipation. The air in the room felt charged with desire, every movement he made sending a jolt of electric excitement through your veins. As he discarded his jeans, revealing his toned physique, your eyes drank in the sight hungrily, a certain lust igniting within you.

Quinn's gaze never left yours, dark with intensity as he prowled towards you, his steps deliberate and purposeful. Your breath hitched as he knelt before you, his hands trailing up your thighs, sending shivers of anticipation cascading down your spine.

"So pretty," he murmured, his voice husky as his lips brushed against your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake whilst his hands pulled down your panties. His touch was electrifying, sending sparks of pleasure dancing across your skin. “Oh, baby, you are soaked, all this for me?”

You gulped as he let a grin crawl across his face, reaching behind him to place the panties in his drawer before he returned to you.

With trembling hands, you reached out to touch him, your fingers tracing the contours of his body, memorising every ridge and plane. The heat between you was palpable, a primal need driving you both towards each other with an irresistible force. You gently pulled him towards your face, unable to bear the tension any longer.

As Quinn's lips found yours in a searing kiss, you melted into him, surrendering to the fiery passion that consumed you both. You dragged him down on top of you, his body a heavy yet comfortable weight pressing against your bare body.

“Need to feel you,” you rasped, heat flushing across your body. “I want to feel you.” You rolled over, to be on top of him, your legs automatically pulled apart by his thick thighs. “Do you have?…have you?..condom, where?”

You found yourself babbling, finding it hard to focus on the words as your body cried in desperation. You watched as Quinn opened his fist revealing a silver, foil packet, which he’d grabbed from the drawer.

“Put it on for me?” Quinn asked cheekily, winking at you as you practically tugged the packet out of his hands.

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, earning a soft poke in the side from the man beneath you as you shifted your weight to manoeuvre Quinn’s underwear down. Your eyes locked on his whilst fingers gently dragged the material down, allowing his thickened cock to slap against his stomach. You suppressed a guttural groan at the sight.

You were practically salivating at the view, your eyes wide with wonder as you carefully reached out and stroked down his shaft, spreading his beads of pre-cum down his length, relishing the grumble that wracked through Quinn’s chest as he watched you with parted lips and a heated look.

Your teeth ripped open the wrapper of the condom, and you slowly rolled it onto Quinn's length, feeling the tension between you bubble over. With each movement, your heart raced faster, your body craving the feeling of him that awaited.

Quinn's breath hitched as your fingers traced over his skin, as you grinned down onto his thighs, hardly able to contain the vicious warmth pulsating through your veins.

With the condom securely in place, you straddled Quinn once again, feeling the heat of his body beneath you as you positioned yourself, ready to take what you both yearned for. His cock brushed over your dripping wetness as his hands found their way to your hips, guiding you gently as you lowered yourself onto him, the shaking sensation of fullness engulfing you both.

A low, guttural moan escaped Quinn's lips as you sank down, inch by inch. Your mouth parted in pleasure, your hands grasping at the flesh of Quinn’s abs for stability. The burning sensation of the stretch to accommodate his length, fuelled your desire as you gave yourself a second to adjust to his size.

“Oh my god,” you gasped out, slowly rocking against Quinn, sparks of pleasure bursting up your spine whilst you threw your head back.

“You take it so well, pretty girl,” Quinn huffed, his tight grip on your hips urging you up and down on his cock. His grip was an anchor, keeping your body grounded despite the ethereal pleasure you were experiencing.

Your walls tightened around the ridges of his length as it glided through your wetness. The room was filled with a cacophony of sounds, your pants of satisfaction mixing with Quinn’s carnal groans.

Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, a symphony of passion and desire as you lost yourselves in the rhythm of the moment.

Quinn’s hand crept towards the epicentre of your pleasure, his thumb circling your bud as you ground down on him. You let out a strangled yelp as he thrust up to meet your movements, both of you chasing your orgasms.

Your nails dug into his flesh as you moved up and down with his guidance. Your pelvis meeting the the sparse hair on the base of his cock as he hit the spongey spot inside you that erupted in glorious pulses every time he brushed against it.

“I can feel you clenching me,” Quinn murmured, his thumb quickening against your clit as you approached the edge of ecstasy. “You gonna come for me, pretty girl?”

“Quinn,” you panted out, picking up your speed as you tethered on the dangerous edge of your climax.

“That’s right,” He urged, his thrusts up unwavering as you met them in pure need. “Let everyone know who’s making you come.”

Your thighs shook as the knotted tension in your stomach loosened as Quinn pulled you closer and closer to that glorious bliss.

“Y’look so good,” Quinn practically slurred, his eyes half-lidded as he watched you bounce. “You’re so close, pretty girl, c’mon, let go, I’ve got you.”

His words shot straight down your core as the tension in your stomach exploded, as your body shook in the purest of pleasure, loud moans escaping your parted lips as your orgasm washed over you.

Quinn pumped up into you, letting you ride through the bliss as he grew closer and closer to his own. His grip on your hips held you on him as you relentlessly clenched around his length.

With a final grunt and a chasing thrust, his grip tightened and he spilt into you, eliciting a whine from you at the mere feeling.

Your body felt boneless as Quinn pulled you down onto his chest, his arms wrapping around you to hold you close. Both of your chests rose and fell in sync, both completely blissed out whilst his hand entangled in your hair, holding your head toward the crook of his neck.

You moved your head carefully to press chaste kisses to his jaw, as he lightly chuckled and adjusted his hold on you.

“How was your ride, pretty girl?” Quinn mumbled, his head lolling to the side to meet your eyes.

“Perfect, 7/10,” you whispered with a soft smile, your fingers tracing his cheek.

“Only seven?” Quinn spluttered in shock, but before he could descend into a panic, you continued.

“Mhm…I think we need to go again,” you nodded very seriously, mischief glittering in your eyes. “You need to convince me, cowboy.”

“You’re a cheeky thing, aren’t you,” Quinn hummed, his hand twisting around your hair to gently pull your head back.

“You like it,” you smiled, brushing your lips across his.

“Damn right I do,” Quinn growled, “Now hop back on, baby, seems like I have some convincing to do.”

Hope you enjoyed! any and all feedback is welcomed with open arms

#wineauntie #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #nhl x reader #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes angst #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fanfic #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #quinn hughes 43 #vancouver canucks #hughes brothers x reader #jack hughes #luke hughes x y/n #jack hughes x y/n #hughes brothers x y/n #qh43

[sttoru]

toji making suggestive comments towards reader infront of newborn megumi, then reader getting mad at him telling him to never do it again 😭😭

⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff + suggestive themes. reader gets called ‘mama’.

“don’t start.”

you knew it — just by taking one glance at your husband from your seat at the couch — you knew toji was up to no good. his hands in the pockets of his shorts, eyes half lidded whilst checking you out and the corner of his lip curled up into a menacing grin; he was seconds away from making inappropriate comments about you, to you.

“ain’t said nothin’ yet.” toji shrugs, smirk still in place. he sits down next to you on the couch and looks down at the baby who was curled up on your chest.

it was an adorable picture; to see the mother of his child being so nurturing and caring, so loving and content. it was an every day sight, yet those mundane moments intensified the urge to take you to the bedroom and shower you with his. . . affection.

megumi babbles something in the meantime, his saliva creating a wet spot on your shirt — which you don’t mind since you’ve gotten used to it, “what is it, ‘gumi? hmm? cutie.”

you giggle and tickle your little son gently. your focus was entirely on him instead of toji, who had already snuck an arm around your waist by the time you realised the proximity. his breath tickled your ear;

“you look so fuckin’ sexy right now, mama.”

you gasp in response. not at the seductive and flirtatious words your husband had whispered, but rather at the fact that he cussed in front of megumi. you made it a household rule — to try and swear less in front of your child. and yet there toji goes, breaking that rule a week after its made.

“toji. what’d i say about cussing in front of your child?” you warn with a glare, but that does nothing more than turn toji on more. he loved it when you bossed him around or had an attitude.

megumi’s babbles and coos had died down eventually. he was more engrossed by the way his parents were interacting in front of him. you didn’t seem as ‘happy’ with toji’s words, however, and that made the emergency alarms in the little baby’s head go off;

“bwah! bwah!” megumi’s smacks toji’s thigh with his tiny hand. the impact wasn’t rough, but the sound of the slap on toji’s bare skin sure made it seem like it was.

you grin as megumi comes to your ‘rescue’. the small slaps didn’t seem to stop until toji gave up and defeatedly redrew from you—scooting just a few inches away from his son and wife.

“got what you deserved.” you lightheartedly comment to your husband. megumi didn’t seem to stop there; the kid sticks his tongue out towards his father’s direction for a split second—rubbing salt into the wound.

“watch it, megumi. i’ll fight ya if it means i get y’r mommy’s attention.” the dark-haired man jokes with a smirk tugging at his lips, his fist gently and carefully making contact with megumi’s chubby cheek. the little boy huffs and instantly tries to nibble onto toji’s knuckles, which was incredibly adorable.

“oh-ho? seems like i finally have an opponent worth fighting. .” toji comments before lifting his hands up in the air, fingers bent at the knuckles, teeth bared — re-enacting a scary monster creature of some kind,

you watch the two with amusement; megumi wasn’t backing down at all and was flailing his arms in the air as toji slowly approaches him again, making tiny noises in protest. your husband was also making some noises, though less. . . cute. his were more growling like—it showed the dedication to his role, at least.

“got’cha! c’mere,” toji grins as he suddenly grabs and lifts megumi up in the air; putting him in air-jail as he likes to call it. the baby kicks and squeals, trying its best to get out, “now—are ya gonna let me show mama some affection or should we do this the hard way?”

megumi protests once more like he actually knows what was said to him and kicks his legs frantically, causing both toji and you to laugh at your baby’s antics.

you sat back and watch the two go back and forth like that for a good while, enjoying the moment. you felt all giddy seeing them interact and wanted nothing more than to kiss and cuddle with both.

and of course, you wished that precious moments like these would never come to an end any tjme soon.

#ෆ : parenting 101. #jjk x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #toji x you #jjk x you #jjk fluff #toji fluff

[secretsofafangirll]

video star

summary: the time when Olivia appeared in a blind, deaf, mute baking video with the triplets and Matt couldn't keep his hands to himself.

warnings: touchiness in front of people/on camera, suggestive language, suggestive content, use of pet names.

a/n: the song doesn't have any significance, it just plays in o.c.'s headphones.

"Hey guys, welcome back to another Wednesday video," Nick blurted at the camera posed several feet in front of them, "Today we're doing another Deaf, Blind, Mute Baking Challenge."

"However," Chris butted in, sticking a mocking finger in the air, "We have a special guest for today's video," He drawled out and looked off to the side where I was standing. Matt was still leaning back against the counter and smiled at me.

"Come on out, sweetheart." Matt beckoned me over with a flick of his fingers and a nod of his head. I jumped into frame and smiled at the camera.

"Hi guys!" I waved enthusiastically and placed my hands on the counter in front of me.

"For those of you who don't know, Olivia is our best friend in the whole world and Matt's girlfriend. If you didn't know that, you've obviously never watched a video because she's in all of our vlogs and we never shut up about her." Nick summed up the basics for the viewers at home.

I've been friends with the triplets since my freshman year of high school. Chris and I instantly clicked one day in Math when our more extroverted personalities found their ways to one another. He introduced me to his two triplet brothers at lunch that same day, and the rest was history. We became inseparable and spent every second of every day together since. Things became interesting with Matt and me as we got older and grew into ourselves but we officially started dating after we graduated high school. We were always scared to announce our relationship to his fans because they can be volatile to their female friends, but once we did and they accepted that we loved each other, we've been so open and comfortable expressing that love physically on camera.

"So, how this is gonna work is..we're gonna draw out of a hat and three people are gonna be either blind, deaf, or mute and one person won't be able to use their hands. Let's hope that person isn't Olivia, because she's the only one of us that really can bake, like at all," Chris addressed the room and the camera.

"Dude, if I get fucking handcuffed, this is gonna be awful," I raised my brows and turned to Chris.

"Have a little faith, kid," Chris bumped my hip with his. I heard the car keys rattle on Matt's belt loop as he pressed himself away from the counter and came up behind me to wrap his arms around my neck. My hands subconsciously reached up to grip his muscular forearms.

"Alright, well, let's get the fuck on with it," Matt spoke.

"Okay, relax. We've been rolling for two fucking minutes." Nick stuck an accusatory hand up at Matt.

Nick reached around the counter for the hat and we all drew a card.

"Matt, you say yours first," Nick assigned.

"Mute," Matt chuckled, "Too easy."

"Deaf," I read aloud, "Yay! I just get to listen to music." I ran over to the couch and grabbed my headphones, working to connect them to my phone and find a playlist.

"Noo!," Chris whined, "Handcuffed."

"Loser", Nick teased.

"Which means that I am blind." Nick concluded, "Olivia wanted to bake something from scratch but that's a bit too hard for us, so we just got boxed brownies with, like, an extra cookie thing that we have to do too."

As Nick started to read off the contents of the box, I placed the headphones over my ears and pressed "shuffle" on Spotify. The first song to grace my ears was "B.Y.O.B" by System of a Down. A loud, scream-y nu-metal jam to deafen my sensitive ears. If I listened to anything too quiet, I'd be able to hear them. I watched as Matt tied the blindfold onto Nick and then Chris tied the bandana onto Matt. Matt then locked the handcuffs onto Chris' wrists behind his back.

I watched as the three of them tried to talk to each other, myself trying to read their lips and body language. I knew Matt well enough to know he was frustrated and Chris well enough to know he was giving Nick directions.

Quickly, when they started to struggle too much, they called me over. However, my eyes were closed as I mouthed the words to the song and I couldn't hear them.

"Everybody's going to the party have a real good time," I sang with Serj and wagged my finger to the Ooh.

What made me open my eyes was Matt pushing a hand against my lower back to guide me to the counter. The sudden jolt and touch startled me and I lurched forward, almost falling into the hard counter top face first. Matt's hand quickly shot and gripped my waist, pulling me back into him.

"Oh my God!" I yelped, my hands shooting out in front of myself to stop me before he did. He spun me around in his hands and I placed my extended hands on his chest, "Thank you!" I yelled, unaware of my volume. He just pressed a finger to my lips to tell me to be quieter. I whispered a faint apology in return.

I looked over to Chris who was probably spewing some bullshit at us about how cheesy we are, seeing as how his left cheek flexed up slightly in annoyance. Matt ushered me over to the counter where they handed me the box to try and fix what they already messed up. I took one look at the batter and knew they added too much oil.

"Okay," I started, "I think you guys just put too much oil, but it's not hard to fix. I just need a dehydrator like flour or cornstarch to dry out the oil." I turned around to grab the flour from the cabinets that I stock for them, because if I didn't they'd either starve or waste all of their money on eating out.

Due to my shorter stature, I had to stand on my tip toes and stretch the life out of my arms to reach the flour. Matt came up behind me and placed a hand on my side to tell me to relax and he reached up and grabbed it for me. I thanked him before turning around and continuing to mix the brownies, Matt's front just brushed my back the whole time as he watched over my shoulder, his hand resting gently on my hip.

Once I was done with the brownies, I needed to grab a bowl for the cookie part. I wasn't planning on making it, since it's supposed to be a challenge, but I still grabbed the equipment needed. I bent down in front of Matt to grab a smaller bowl from the cabinet below the island. When I leaned over, I didn't realize two things; one, how close I was to Matt and what he wouldn't be able to resist doing when he noticed the position we were in, two, how it would look on camera.

Both of Matt's hands found my hips when I unexpectedly stuck my ass into the air right in front of his dick and he subconsciously pressed himself a tiny bit further into me. Soon, his hand left my hip and it braced itself on the counter above my head so that I wouldn't hit the counter when I got back up.

"Okay, so you guys need to do this, because this is supposed to be your guys' challenge." I started clearly over the sound of Evanescence’s "Going Under”. I sang the words under my breath as I turned away to let them do what they needed to do. I hopped up onto the counter behind them and enjoyed my music as I watched them yell at each other.

At least I thought they were yelling at each other...

Turns out they were yelling at me to preheat the oven that I was sitting next to. I watched as Matt stepped closer to me. He placed his hands on my thighs and nodded to the oven dials. I quickly understood and turned the dial to 350 degrees. Matt's eyes darted all across my face and down my body that was only clothed in shorts and a tank top due to the intense Los Angeles heat. I knew exactly what look he was giving me and it was killing him that he couldn't kiss me.

"Later," I mouthed to him and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. He dropped his head to my shoulder and I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulder to squeeze him into me.

Soon after, the brownies had made it out of the oven safely and we were all stripped of our sense-depriving shackles. I was kind of disappointed to be done with the music, but I missed hearing my favorite boys talk.

"Okay, the brownies are done and they look fine," Nick began to the camera, "But we did fuck them up a little bit, so hopefully Olivia's fix was okay."

"Bro, she's literally a professional chef at this point, I'm sure they're still gonna be great," Chris said matter-of-factly. Nick began to cut the brownies, which they should've baked on parchment paper, and got a piece for all of us. He slid it in front of me and we all tried a bite. They still tasted great and they looked like boxes.

"Obviously, if it were up to me, we wouldn't have boxed anything, but for a boxed brownie mix," Matt came up and hugged me from behind and my hands fell to his that wrapped around me, "I would give this is a solid 8 out of 10." I said giving a thumbs up with the camera.

When they had all given their notes and feedback, they said goodbye to the camera and turned it off.

"You guys need to practice a little something called self-control, you horny fucks," Said Nick as he shook his head and took down the filming equipment. 

"Shut the fuck up, Nick," Matt spat as he pulled me closer, "Hi, my girl. D'you have fun?" He asked, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I pulled back slightly and leaned up to kiss his lips, "Mhm. I always have fun filming with you guys." I smiled up at his stunning face.

"What'd you listen to?" He asked, pulling away from the hug to reach over and grab a cup from the cabinet, but keeping a hand on my waist. I turned to watch him as he got what he needed.

"I listened to System of a Down and Evanescence. I wish that, like, Nirvana or something came on though." I sighed and looked down for a moment before focusing my attention back on him.

"S'nice. I need to branch out, broaden my musical horizons," He said as he filled his cup with water from the fridge.

"And your kitchen horizons, because, my God, you guys suck at baking." I teased exasperatedely.

"Hey, watch yourself," He tutted, "They suck at baking, I, on the other hand, can whip up a good dessert."

"Alright, mister, I bought already-been-smoked salmon and tried to cook it anyway, Sturniolo." I accused, rolling my eyes jokingly.

"Oh, yeah? You want to play it that way?" He smiled smugly and slowly stepped toward me, setting his water down on the kitchen island.

I backed away in response and put my hands up in defense, "I'm not playing anything. M'just sayin' it how it is. S'not my fault your egos too big."

"You little-," He cut himself off and reached for me. A high-pitched yelp escaped my mouth as I dodged his hand and I backed away from him before running to his bedroom. I might be more agile than him, but his legs are much longer than mine. He caught up to me as I was trying to slam his door shut, and he stopped the door before I could close it. He swooped in quickly, picked me up, and tossed me onto the bed, kicking the door shut somewhere in between.

"Matt!" I giggled, as I sat up, bracing my hands behind me. He crawled onto the bed in front of me and shoved my chest back down.

"Those brownies might have been good," He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss right below my ear, "But I know you're gonna taste even better," He whispered into my ear and began to trail a path of open-mouthed kisses down my neck...

//

author's note: alright...how'd we like it? I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it, but I wanted to put something out. I liked the concept but I'm unsure of how it turned out. let me know what you guys think.

all the love, she <3

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #fluff #nicolas sturniolo #childhood best friends to lovers #fanfic #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo #matthew sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo fanfic

[katsu28]

lucky charm

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: lando finds comfort in your presence as doubt starts to creep in before a race (2k)

warnings: minimal swearing

a/n: hi i know i'm still super new here and i'm not even sure if i'm actually going to start writing rpf but i think about this motherfucker 24/7 now and this came to me in a dream <3 let's ignore the actual way he got his ring necklace okay? okay!

“No one saw you come in, right?” 

Lando let the door close behind him gently, a total opposite to the quickest few steps you’d ever seen him take across the small driver’s room, and he leaned over to kiss you, hard. 

You let out a squeak of surprise at the force of it, but had no hesitation in kissing him back as soon as your body caught up with your brain, arms looping around his neck to bring him down and closer to you.

Lando’s knees hit the cushions on either side of you, hands doing the same on the leather backrest, clumsy as all hell but twice as determined not to let his mouth leave yours. 

Your fingers knocked the McLaren cap right off his head as they moved into his hair, clutching at his chocolate curls on instinct like you’d done so many times before. But never here, never before one of Lando’s races, and certainly never at the risk of being caught by anyone in the facility at any given moment. 

It didn’t seem to matter to Lando, though, with the way he was kissing you like he was parched and you were the only thing that could quench his thirst. 

But given the rather frantic series of texts you’d received from him that got you here in the first place, you weren’t at all too surprised. You knew how nervous Lando got before races, and if there was something you could do, you’d never hesitate to be there for him. Especially since you were able to make it to this one. 

“Yeah,” He mumbled between kisses, panting against your lips. Somehow he’d managed to switch positions so he was the one on the sofa now and you were sitting on his lap, straddling his hips as you continued your rather sloppy makeout session. “Yeah, yeah, we’re good. ‘M sneaky like that.” 

“Had a lot of practice at this, have you?” 

“No!” It was almost comical how fast he pulled away from you to blurt out his answer. “No, not at all. I don’t know why I said that, I—” 

“I was just kidding, bub.” You chuckled, smoothing the pad of your thumb across his kiss-swollen bottom lip fondly. Lando grinned sheepishly, giving your waist a playful little pinch. You’d never get over the way he looked at you, like you were the only other person to exist in the world—especially when he was under you like this, and especially with those eyes. His baby cow eyes, you always called them. 

Even so, Lando was extremely tense, you could tell. He tended to get very in his head before races, probably why he asked you to come meet him so close to the green flag, to help him quell his nerves a little. He always said you helped him more than anything else ever could. 

“I have something for you.” You said softly. 

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” He leaned back against the cushion, happily accepting the chaste kiss you pressed to his lips before you bounced off his lap and over to where your bag was sitting. 

You rummaged around in it for a few moments until you found what you were looking for, a triumphant grin on your face as you made your way back over to an intrigued Lando. This time you settled next to him, throwing your legs across his lap. His hand came to rest on your knee immediately. 

“Open it.” You urged, pressing the small black bag into his waiting palm. He undid the drawstring carefully, beaming even before he got a look at what was inside. That smile only grew bigger as he poured the contents of the bag into his hand. 

A thin silver chain, joined together at the ends with two interlocking rings, sleek and silver just like the rest of the necklace. Upon closer inspection, he saw numbers etched into the inside of each one. One of them, Lando recognized instantly as the date of your anniversary. The other looked like a set of coordinates, but he wasn’t too great at geography, so he looked to you for an explanation. 

“The place we first met.” 

“You looked up the coordinates of that tiny little restaurant? Nerd.” He chuckled, artfully dodging the swat you aimed his way at his teasing remark.

“It could be, like, your new lucky charm or something.” You shrugged, watching him turn the rings around carefully between his fingers. 

Lando glanced up, bumping your shoulder with his gently. “I’ve already got one.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. It’s you.” 

“Me?” 

“I like knowing you’re watching me. Even though I can’t see you, or even if you’re not here, knowing I’ve got you cheering me on from wherever you are helps. I think it makes me a better driver.” 

“Lan, you’re already a great driver.. You don’t need me for you to know that.” 

“I know. I just—it keeps me focused. To know you’re there.” He said softly, giving your hand a tight squeeze. “And now with this, I can have a piece of you with me whenever. Here, help me put it on.” 

“You can’t wear it under your suit, Lando, even I know that.”

“Alright, well, I’ll figure it out later. C’mon, put it on me.” Lando leaned forward, giving you space to bring the chain up over his head and around his neck. He even managed to sneak in another kiss whilst you followed the silver down to where the rings rested just below his collarbones. Your fingers stroked at the warm skin there, the cold of the metal contrasting.

“It looks good on you.” 

Lando melted like a popsicle on a hot summer day under your touch, smiling so big at you that you could hardly believe this was the same boy who had other drivers trembling in their fireproofs. He hoisted you back into his lap effortlessly, nosing at your pulse point a bit before smacking a kiss to your cheek when you wrapped your arm around his shoulders. “You look good on me.” 

“That was so bad. Like, really bad. I get why they call you Lando Norizz now.” 

“What?! Bad? That was so fucking smooth!” He huffed, going from looking completely smitten to entirely offended. “And I happen to have lots of rizz, thank you very much. I practically ooze rizz, love.” 

“I take it back.” You replied solemnly, patting Lando’s cheek. “That was worse.” 

“You’re so mean to me. I don’t know why I even put up with this harassment!” 

“Always so dramatic, you.” 

“I’ve got to be! How else would I be able to withstand this abuse?” 

You scoffed playfully and moved to climb off him, opting to keep a safe enough distance away so you wouldn’t be tempted to kiss him stupid. Then he’d really be late. “Don’t you have a race to prepare for, driver boy?” 

“I am,” He said earnestly, tucking his hands behind his head. You arched a skeptical brow, hands propped on your hips. 

“By hiding out in here with me?” 

“You know what they say—calm the mind, and the body will follow.” 

“I’ve literally never heard anyone say that.” 

“Well maybe people should start!” 

You huffed out an amused chuckle, crossing your arms. “Are you ready?” 

A sudden silence  blanketed the tiny room, Lando’s non response giving you all you needed to know. 

He reached out for you with a pout that you’d never been quite able to resist, fingers beckoning you back over longingly, like you were too far away for his liking. You gave in almost immediately despite previously wanting to give him space, trudging over with an overexaggerated roll of your eyes and letting yourself be pulled back onto his lap yet again. 

“I’ll be alright.” He answered finally, taking your hand in his. He fiddled with your fingers, tracing along each digit languidly and then circling his thumb over your palm—once, twice, a third time. 

This, something you’d learned quite early on in your relationship with Lando, was one of his many versions of self-soothing. The repetition of his actions proved rather calming to him, and it certainly helped that he got to feel your skin against his. 

His brows drew together in thought, furrowed and tense until you pushed your thumb into the wrinkle between them, smoothing out the scrunch. He wrapped his fingers around your wrist loosely. 

“You’re gonna do great, you know.” You insisted. 

He offered you as good of a smile as he could muster. “Yeah. I know.”  

“You’re gonna do your best, and whatever happens, you’ve got so many people who’ll be proud of you no matter what.”

“I don’t know if it’s enough.” Lando blurted, scratching at a patch on his suit. “I’ve been racing for years, and I still have no wins to show for it. It’s not fair to my team, it’s not fair to the fans. It’s not fair to you. You shouldn’t have to have a boyfriend who can’t fucking drive for shit.” 

“Lando, I’m not with you because of your job.” You said shortly, pressing your lips into a thin, unamused line. “And quite frankly, I feel hurt that you could even think I was.” 

Lando was quick to soothe, shaking his head frantically. He took both your hands in his, squeezing. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry, it’s just—I get in my head a lot. And I start to overthink, and shit comes out of my mouth that I don’t mean. I know you’re not like that, I do. I’m sorry.” 

You softened, sighing. “You could never win a race, ever, and I'd still love you all the same.”

He snorted. “Well, I’d like to win one at some point.” 

“What I meant was, I can’t speak for everyone else, but my pride for you has nothing to do with how well you do on the track, my love.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. I’m proud of you because you’re you. You’re kind and you work hard, and you try your best at everything you do. Even if the outcome isn’t what you expected, you keep at it. You keep going. That’s one of the reasons why I love you, that’s why I’m so proud of you.” 

“I’m stupid.” He groaned, tipping his head back against the couch cushions. You simply made a noise of agreement. “You’re too good to me. I love you.”

“I love you too. Now, you really need to go back to the garage. I’m sure Oscar’s sent out a search party for you at this point.” You said firmly, giving his chest a sharp poke. Lando groaned again but made to get up, shifting your legs off him so he could climb to his feet. 

“Fine. Just kick me out of my own room, why don’t you?” He huffed dramatically, swiping his hat off the floor and jamming it back over his hair. You aimed a fake kick towards him, stifling a giggle when he caught your foot and pretended to undo your laces. “Kiss?” 

“You need to leave, Lando,” You whined, batting him away gently. “I refuse to be the reason you’re late.” 

“One more. Just one more for good luck and I promise I’ll leave.” He insisted, expression pleading. You grumbled something unintelligible, reaching up begrudgingly to bring him down for one last kiss. 

Lando smiled against your lips, snaking a hand around the back of your neck to keep you in place a few beats longer than you intended. You practically had to unstick yourself from him, giving him a little shove towards the door so he’d actually leave. 

Immediately, he whirled around. “Wait, wait—”

“Lando! Go!” 

“No, no, hold on, it’s important.” He slipped his newfound chain over his head, rubbing his thumb over both rings before holding it out towards you. “Keep this safe for me?” He asked earnestly, pressing the necklace into your hands. “Can’t have my lucky charm getting lost already, can I?” 

“Give ‘em hell, number four.” You smiled, donning the necklace yourself. He beamed, blowing you a kiss as he backpedaled down the hall. "Number four on the track, number one in my heart!"

You could hear his infectious laughter echoing even as he retreated around the corner.

Lando would be fine. And if he wasn’t, he’d bounce back, like he always did. And you’d be there to support him every step of the way, like you always were. 

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[httpiastri]

control freak – ln4

lando hates a lot of things. not being in control is definitely one of them.

genre: smut

pairing: female reader x lando norris

warnings: smut 🤭 i dont remember what it's called? but lando gets tied up. he likes to be in control, so i guess dom!lando is kinda insinuated. it's a bit dirtyyy but there are also some soft elements bcs who would i be to not include those :)

requested?: yes! thank you for requesting 🤍 (requests are still open!)

author's note: this was supposed to be just a blurb but something happened lol. also, very much inspired by this ask and the just him talking about how he needs to be in control in that video. this thought has been living in my mind rent-free since that moment. hope u all enjoyyyy<3<3 (if this doesn’t work this time. idk what to do. anyways.)

f1 masterlist

18+ content below, minors dni!

–

"there we go..." you say, leaning back slightly and letting go of lando's wrist. "you alright?"

"my hands, yes. my ego, however..."

earlier this year, you and lando had agreed to buy one of those adult christmas calendars, one with a new toy or tool for the bedroom every day. so far, you'd gotten a blindfold, a massaging oil, and even a smaller vibrator. and today's present? a pair of sleek, white silk ribbons.

lando had immediately pulled the little strings out of the box, measuring them around your wrists. but you had shook your head, snatching them out of his hands and telling him it was his turn.

he had just cocked an eyebrow at you, assuming you were kidding. but the grin you had worn, one that told him that you were fully serious, had made him chuckle, rolling his eyes. no way, he'd told you, giving you a pat on the head before he leaned down against his pillow again. he had assumed this would be a lost cause for you, because there was no way he was letting you expose him to one of the things he hates.

lando hates a lot of things. number one: he hates not being in control, and he hates it so much.

the fact that he needs to be in control is very well-known in your relationship, and it applies to most situations. he needs to be the one driving, even if you're just going on a short trip to the supermarket; he needs to know who's invited to a dinner party so he can plan ahead; and of course, he feels a need for power in the bedroom.

but you are nothing if not persistent. lando is the very definition of stubborn, sure, but you would not give up on this one.

your boyfriend always thought you must be some kind of witch, because your effect on him is paranormal. the way you bat your eyes at him, your soft touch on his cheek, and your sweet kisses lingering on his lips – they could get him to agree to almost anything. even this, apparently.

since today was a friday, you had gone out for dinner and some drinks tonight before hurrying back home to try out your new present. lando was still a bit hesitant, but your lips pressed against his and your hips brushing his crotch as you sat on his lap on your bed made him give up yet again.

and that's how you find yourselves here, him already stripped out of everything except his boxers, with the sleek white ropes connecting him to the headboard. you twirl the fabric by his right wrist around your finger one final time, smiling at the little bows you've made. "you look so pretty right now," you hum, leaning down a little and tracing a finger along his jaw. "kinda wanna take a picture."

"do it."

you shake your head, not wanting to bring out your phone and possibly ruin the moment. you smile at the firmness in his voice, pressing a quick peck to his lips. "next time."

lando's chest vibrates with his chuckle. "oh, you think there will be a next time?"

"i know there will, because i'm in charge here."

the retort he was planning gets caught in his throat as your lips meet the side of his neck. he sighs at the feeling of your kisses traveling down to his chest, tongue coming out to lick the skin occasionally. he instinctively tries to grab your hips with his hands, momentarily forgetting about his restraints and letting out an annoyed groan when he's held back. you giggle against him when you hear the ropes snap against the headboard.

"already?" you ask, hands dragging up and down his beautifully tanned skin as your kisses trail even further, meeting the skin of his hipbones, giving both sides equal attention.

you can see how he clenches his fists from the corner of your eyes, knuckles already turning a little white. "i hate this. i really hate this," he mumbles.

"but you like me, don't you?" you counter, sitting back on your heels between his legs and letting your hands find the waistband of his boxers. "let me have my fun."

"great to know one of us is having fun, i guess." you take your time pulling down his underwear, enjoying every second of watching his impatience. when he's finally fully naked, his cock springs up to his stomach, a little precum leaking from him already.

"lando," you start, your thumb rubbing around the tip before spreading the precum along him. "don't you trust me?" you lower yourself down to press a kiss to his tip. "do you really think i won't make sure you enjoy this, too?"

his answer comes in the form of a shaky exhale, his eyes fluttering shut when he feels your tongue lick up a stripe along the side of his dick.

"i thought so."

your lips wrap around him, pushing yourself down his length before moving back up again. you're excruciatingly slow, wet lips sliding along his skin and only taking a little of him as your tongue swirls around him just once.

number two: lando hates being teased.

it's something he avoids at all costs, which you learned early in your relationship. he'll give you a stern look and push your hand away when you reach for his thigh during a company dinner; he'll grab your hips to hold you still when you intentionally grind onto him as you sit in his lap; and when you text him revealing pictures when he's away doing something important, he'll turn off his phone rather than let it get to him. it all comes back to his hatred of not being in control – he wants to be the one to tease you, not the other way around. so when you get a chance to tease him and he can't do anything about it, you take it.

speeding up your actions is not something you even consider, and now that lando's hands aren't in your hair to usher you, you take your time. you do, however, push him further into you, letting him hit the back of your throat before pulling entirely off him. when you sink down on him again, he buckles his hips: his way of trying to retake control. your hands find his sides, holding him down as you slide off him, leaning back to look at him as a grin spreads across your lips. "impatient, are we?"

his eyes are scrunched up, head thrown back to show off his thick neck. his muscular chest is heaving for air, already, and his hands are still hanging sloppily from the ropes. you love to see him like this. so weak, so helpless. it's not often that you get to take in this sight, so you savor every second of it.

when he feels the bed rock, lando's eyes shoot open. he watches you climb up from the bed, standing right next to it as you slowly let the sleeves of your dress fall down your shoulders. he does not enjoy the moment as much as he wishes he would, because all he can think of is how much he wishes he was the one sliding the dress down your body; how much he wishes he was the one unclasping your bra; how much he wishes it was his hands dragging your soaked panties to the floor.

you move to straddle his lap, your hips hovering over his as you let his tip nudge your entrance. when you finally descend on him, he bottoms you out so perfectly. you press your hands to his chest, leaning your weight on him as you feel yourself getting stretched out.

if lando thought you were done with the teasing, he was very wrong. you rise from him painfully slowly, before going down just as slowly. when your hips meet his again, you stop for yet another moment, rolling down on him.

number three: lando hates not being able to control the pace.

he's used to driving cars at 300 km/h, for god's sake, so this slow motion-pace you're going at is not ideal for him. he doesn't always need to thrust in and out of you like you only have a minute left to live but regulating the pace is, according to him, one of the perks of being the boyfriend. but not today.

you find a rhythm, bouncing on him like you are in no hurry whatsoever. your lover's moans are muffled and he's seemingly doing his best to not let anything slip out. he doesn't want you to know how much he likes this, despite not being in control.

"don't hold back, baby," you say, thumbs stroking his skin encouragingly. "you're allowed to feel good even when i'm in charge."

and when he finally lets go, the sounds he makes are like music to your ears. his hearty groans send a shiver down your spine and you can't help but pick up the pace a little, needing to hear more. you want to pull every sound and twitch out of him, and if that means going faster, it's a change you're willing to make.

you feel the shudder passing through his body when you clench around him. you know he's close when his heels dig into the mattress and he thrusts into you, trying to make up for lost time. you're almost there, too, and the way you feel all of him pump into you turns your brain into mush.

your nails dig into his chest when you reach your climax, likely leaving indents in his skin. you continue riding him, helping him chase his high, your pulsating insides helping draw it out instantly. when you feel the spurts shooting into you, you collapse against him. he's twitching inside of you, his chest jumping with his breaths, and your fingers reach to brush along the side of his neck to help him come down from his high.

"okay, i'll admit," he starts, taking deep breaths between every word. "that was so fucking hot."

a giggle escapes past your lips, and you prop your chin up on his chest to look up at his face. "i knew it would be." you brush back his curls, freeing his glossy forehead. "thank you for trusting me."

his face is adorned by a soft smile, and it replicates on yours. "are you okay?" he asks, always so caring, and he lets out a breath when you nod.

number four, the most important one: lando hates being unable to hold you.

he hates not being in control of your well-being; he hates not being able to ensure you're okay. he hates not cupping your face in his palms, stroking your cheeks, pulling his fingers through your locks. so, it would be an understatement to say that he was ecstatic when you pulled yourself off him, sat down on his side and started working on undoing the ropes.

his skin shows off a burning red color, and it hasn't occurred to you yet how much he actually must've been itching to touch you. usually, when he ties you up, your skin gets a bit irritated too, sure. but it's not often this bad. "let me get you a lotion for your wrists," you say.

you're practically off the bed already when lando grabs your hand, dragging you onto him again. "later." he pulls your back to his chest and nuzzles his face into your hair, pressing a peck to your scalp. "just wanna hold you right now."

you shake your head at his antics, but take both of his hands into yours. you hold them up to your lips, giving him a few kisses around both of his wrists. "maybe that's better?"

"perfect." his voice is low, arms snaking around your waist to tug you closer. "i think they're completely fine now."

"let me at least get you something in the morning?"

"mmm. shush and sleep now."

and there it was, an order – back in control already. just like he should be.

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