#time loop fic baby! always wanted to write one and finally did

[arminsumi]

can i get an eager, inexperienced gojo? he is probably so silly and loving during sexy time but he still acts like a horndog, not sure where to touch, kinda nerv but tryna cover it up bc he’s the strongest sorcerer, ofc he’s been with so many ladies before!!!! (he hasn’t but he doesn’t want YOU to know that)

love your works as always stay safe💗💗💗

AIN'T NEVER DID THIS BEFORE, NO.

𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟

NOTE: this made me think of that j. cole song so i looped it while writing all 2.3k of this fic 🥴 i hope u like what i did!! mwaaa smooches!! hope ur well <3

🔞 mdni / 18+ content

SUMMARY — Gojo's saved up his virginity ever since he met you, savoring every wet dream through the years until he finally got the real thing in a hotel room in Okinawa.

WARNINGS — fem reader, n.sfw content, profanity, pre-established relationship

SMUT WARNINGS — virginity loss, light dirty talk, nicknames (good girl, sweet girl, daddy), Gojo's so nervous and inexperienced wheee😩💗, protected sex/condoms used, multiple rounds (2), kitty eating, giving him head, fluffy ending scene, lmk if i have missed smth and pls overlook errors i'm slepy asf it's 2am

Wordcount ≈ 2.3k

Playme ♪ wet dreamz

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

You can’t miss the way his Addam’s apple shifts up and down when he swallows, or the way he gawks when you wiggle out of your clothes and toss them off the side of the hotel bed.

Where are my hands supposed to go?

He’s thinking that while haphazardly squeezing a large handful of your hips and hotly kissing your neck.

This has been his long-anticipated dream come true… see, Gojo Satoru met you in high school. And the first thing he thought to himself was I want her to take my virginity. So, he had promised himself that one day, when he was older, he was gonna give it to you.

All his cheeky flirting and dirty jokes got him here, in this room of some dreadfully expensive hotel in Okinawa. Yes, he’s cheesy, as cheesy as he was when he used to lean over his desk during high school to whisper dumb pickup lines into your ear; he requested rose petals and wine. He had the lights dimmed. He laid you down with kisses right on top of those strewn petals.

Crazed, feverish, eager, overwhelmed; he was bursting with a bunch of feelings – predominantly horniness. He’s always had that horny twang about him, he was unashamed about it around you – it’s what got you hot for him in the first place, the fact that he was so bold with his dirty jokes and naughty hints.

But now he’s struggling to find his words. Now that smart mouth is sparsely throwing out witty remarks. Now he was heavily relying on comedy to ease his nervousness and mask his inexperienced movements.

He let you roll on top and savored each kiss that you pressed down his chest – heaving, he was heaving and hot already and all the two of you had done so far was romantic French kissing and tentative touches across each other’s bare skin.

The heat of your flushed cheeks seared his lower abdomen.

How low is she gonna go – oh my god what do I do – play it cool – oh my god is she actually – wow this is really happening.

Such a mess of goofy thoughts passed through his mind when you pressed a testing kiss to his glistening cockhead. Giving the slit a lick made his shoulders scrunch up, and his voice shook a bit, “Shit, baby, you don’t have to do that if you don’t w – want to… oh fuck…”

“But I’ve wanted to suck it so bad, I’ve thought about it so much.” You batted your eyes at him.

His stomach flipped.

“O-okay… ” he breathed. In the back of his mind, he was self-conscious about sounding like a virgin… because he totally was. And he wasn’t masking it very well when you started kissing and licking on his cock.

Feling your tongue swirl circles around his bulbous head, then swiping the underside, nearly made him bust right there. It took every bit of this strong boy’s strength to hold it in. And there was a lot to hold in.

“Oh that’s so fucking good.” He moaned.

You lowered your lips down his slickened cock, the warmth and texture of it delighting your tongue. Taking in his scent, his taste, his sounds – when you hollowed out your cheeks and suctioned your lips around him, he let out an uneasy moan. He was really gonna bust right there in your mouth if he didn’t tell you to ease up.

“B-baby, you’re so good at that – but – but fuckkk – slow down f’me…” he pleaded, big hand coming to the back of your head as you slid off his cock – that also almost made him bust. Oh god, you unknowingly edged him. Maybe you knew that, because you giggled at the way his cock jumped and visibly twitched after popping your lips off of it.

“Sorry, you good?” you asked him sweetly. He looked at you through lust-glazed eyes, his lower lip glistening with a bit of drool.

“ ‘m okay – fuck come here and get on your back. ‘Wanna do that to you too.” He commanded you, eagerly shuffling positions.

He lowered his face between your legs, marvelling at the shiny wet sheen smeared across your inner thigh. A thin web of juice connected from your hole.

“Sorry, I know it’s rude to stare.” He chuckled, joking to lighten his nerves. But earning a laugh from you made his heart flutter before he dove right into it – now here’s where you realized something.

He was inexperienced. Totally. Sweetly so. His tongue flicked and darted around, swiping along your slit, gathering your juices like he was thirsty. The way he licked you up felt like he was some college boy giving his crush head in a lucid dream.

But if there’s one thing you know about Gojo Satoru, it’s that he can do anything he tries. You started out giggling and squirming on his face, and ended up squealing his name and arching your back. Switching between suckling at your clit and lapping at your folds and slipping his buttery tongue into your hole – he was having fun figuring it out.

And my god, he had the biggest, smuggest, most smackable grin on his face when he made you cum.

“W-wipe that grin off your face.” You panted, half-dazed from your orgasm.

His grin only grew wider. Now he was feeling a bit cocky, a little high on a sugar rush of confidence because he just made the girl of his dreams cum from a little amateur tongue-fucking.

“You musta really wanted it bad, huh?” he teased, crawling up to meet your face and pressing a few wet, sloppy kisses to your awaiting lips. You could taste yourself, and he was conscious of that – and it made him almost bust on your tummy. You felt his cock jumping and twitching and throbbing against your skin.

“Don’t get all smug now…” you muttered.

His plumped, flushed lips hovered over your face. “Thanks for the meal.” He whispered jokingly, wiping your juice off his cheek with his thumb and suckling it off.

“Hahaha what!” you broke out laughing. “You’re ridiculous!”

He ran his tongue over his lips to tease you, “Tasted better than in my dreams.”

Now that made you flush hotter underneath him. Because for some reason, it hadn’t occurred to you that he had wet dreams of you. But he did. And he was too embarrassed to admit the number – it was big. He dreamed of you a lot. Especially taking you from the back… so naturally

“Turn around f’me, please?” he asked, “I wanna see you from the back.”

Your lack of hesitation to switch positions for him made his heart thump.

“Good girl…” he muttered under his breath, unsure of how you’d take the nickname. But hearing your giggly hum and seeing your hips wiggle up to his pelvis reassured him that you liked it.

So he engulfed you from behind, “You like that?” he whispered into your ear, big hand smoothing over the curves of your body to get a good feel of it. “Want me to call you a good girl?”

You nodded into the plush pillow, “Yes please. I like it.” You mumbled into the fabric.

“Can’t hear you, speak up.” He smiled against the shell of your ear teasingly. “Daddy’s hard of hearing.” He joked.

You rolled your eyes at his dumb goofiness. For some reason you thought it would switch off in the bedroom, but no – he was just as much as a dumb good in and out of bed.

“ ‘call me your good girl, please. I like it.”

His cock twitched. He’d started rubbing and pressing his cock into you from the back. The way your thighs and plush little pussy hugged him was better than any dream – lucid or not. And he’s had a lot of lucid wet dreams of you. Of this, specifically; taking you from behind. In his dreams, he’s pounding into you so good that you cream and cream and cream all over him. He just hopes he can actually achieve that in reality.

When he lowers his hands and fists his cock a bit before running the head between your folds, a pang of nervousness strikes his chest. That feeling came over him – that realization that oh, I’m gonna have my first time.

“So pretty…” he compliments, one hand soothingly caressing around your pussy.

To you, it almost feels like he might have done this before – you’re not sure – with the way he lightly smacks his cock on your hole, and the way he tests your smallness by slipping his tip in and out, you think he’s probably got at least a bit of experience under his belt.

But no. No, not at all. Not even a little bit. In fact, before you, he only kissed two people – and the first didn’t count to him because he hated it, and the second also didn’t count apparently because he was just practicing with Suguru in anticipation of kissing you one day.

“Fuck me…” he hissed through his gritted teeth when he finally sunk more than his tip through your hole.

“Fucking didn’t expect it to feel this good…” he thought out loud. “Might bust right here�� fuck.” He blurted, then proceeded to boyishly blush.

Little hole squeezing on his virgin cock, hips wiggling back to meet his pelvis and take him deeper, you pawed behind you to feel him. “Baby, I-I gotta tell you something.” He begins embarrassedly, the nervous twang in his voice is so unfamiliar that you look back at him. “I’ve never done this before…” after he said that he sucked in a breath through his teeth at the feeling of your hole tightening and untightening.

You blink at him, and he’s worried for a split second before you smile sheepishly and tell him that he’s your first, too. Well, that little fun fact is what made him snap his hips against your ass and start fucking into you like he was some sort of crazed animal. He felt dizzied with the rush of pleasure, so stirred by the feeling of your pussy sucking his cock – there was no comparable thing in the world to him right then. He was definitely gonna become a sex-crazed fiend after this night, he thought. Absolutely. How could he not?

“S’toruuu – right there right there!” you cried out his name with such a pretty, strained voice that it made him want to tell you he loves you.

“Here? You like it here?” he hit that spot harder and harder, the squelching sound so dirty that you almost felt ashamed for a second. “My good girl gonna cum like this? Yeah? F-fuck t-t-tell me when you’re close ‘cause I’m close – really fucking close – fuck fuck fuck ahhh ‘gonna cum!”

He’s driving into that sweet spot while he cums, spilling a warm creamy mess into the condom – completely falling to pieces. Gojo’s always been inclined to obsessing over things, and he knows right then – when he cums with your quivering pussy sucking him in – that he’s gonna be obsessing over sex with you after this.

“Keep goinggg ‘m gonna cum too, please!” you whimpered from underneath him. He heard you, he was attentive even though he was panting and dazed. His thrusts got sloppy and he weighted on your body more heavily, you could feel his heartbeat.

“Good girl – g-good girl, rub your pretty clit. Want me to do it for you? M’kay sweet thing, lemme get you there – ah yeah? That feel good? You like daddy’s fingers toying with this pretty pussy? Oh fuck you’re gonna cum aren’t you?” he breathed all that into your ear and it absolutely destroyed you, especially with how those intense blue eyes piercingly stared down at you from behind.

“Get that relief, pretty girl – cum all over me. Fuck, there we go – oh wow…” he hit another sweet spot, feeling you gush and writhe under his imposing frame got him close again. “Fuck, baby – just a second, j-just a second ‘m gonna get ‘nother condom, n-need to fucking cum in that pussy again.” He pulled out quick, fingers struggling to free his cock of his already filled lil’ rubber. Squeezing into another one was one of the fastest yet most frustrating things he’s done in a while – oh, you just know that he’s gonna ditch the condoms as soon as you give him the green light to do so. Patience, he thought. He’s gonna need patience and a lot of rubbers.

“Ah fuck me! Satoru!” you arched your back when he re-entered.

“ ‘m gonna cum again, baby – fuck – s-sorry is it too much?” he breathed into your neck. Sweat beaded down his torso, down his thighs – both your bodies pricked with just enough sweat to make it erotically uncomfortable.

You barely managed to tell him that it wasn’t too much because of the way he was sloppily hitting his cockhead into your pussy. Feverish, dazed, pussy-drunk and love-drunk, you felt his hot lips nibbling at your shoulder, then he unexpectedly sank his teeth into your skin. It wasn’t sore, but those canines were a bit sharp.

Muffled moans on your skin sent a shiver down your back, one that travelled to your ass and thighs.

Rolling off to the side, panting and laying exhausted and unmoving.

“Fuck.” He muttered as if to say that was mind-blowing.

“Fuck.” You agreed.

“And ya didn’t even tell me you were a virgin!”

“You didn’t tell me, either!” you giggled, rolling into his embrace.

“But it’s hot if the girl is a virgin!”

You laughed with him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.

He stayed silent for a little while, pulling you closer and caressing your shoulder. The two of you stared up at the ceiling.

“It’s embarrassing.” He admitted. “There was a time I wanted to lose my virginity just so that when I finally got to you, I’d be able to please you better. But I’m glad I waited…”

“Mmm really?” you hummed, he felt your smile print on his chest.

“…yeah.” You could hear his little smile in his voice. “I’m glad I gave it to you.”

#♥️ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟 #🔞 #mdni #smut #gojo #gojo smut #satoru #satoru smut #gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut #jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo saturo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo x fem reader #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen satoru #tw: smut #virgin gojo #is that even a tag who knows #hey u i see u there #did u read all my tags thats so koot here is a cookie 🍪

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Hwang Hyunjin x F!Reader

Word Count : 2.6k

TW : yandere!Hyunjin ; smut ; unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it) ; hint at a breeding kink ; foreplay is nonexistant in my smut and I always find a reason for it in the fic but it's really just because I'm bad at writing it I'm sorry ; let me know if I missed anything!! Request : (@whatudowhennooneseesyou) Can I please request yandere dom!hyunjin X sub!fem reader where they're making love & Hyunjin is just desperate & needy for her?

A/N : I'm so sorry this took so long, but I didn't forget it, I've been thinking of it a lot actually and I'm so happy that it's finally out. But also... your requests have me like "I need a man like that" and then having to do a double take like "I in fact do not need a man like that"

“Baby…” Hyunjin whispered as his fingers traced delicate strokes along your shoulder, his pinky latching onto the spaghetti strap of the tank top you were playing with and looping it around his finger before letting it loosely fall once more. He couldn’t sleep, he needed you to help him. “Babe~~” He whined, the pout already tugging at his lips and you weren’t even awake to see it, not yet at least, but he had you stirring, jumbled nonsense leaving your lips as they smacked together and you rolled over. “Are you tired?” He asked, although your shut eyes and the lulled breaths that left your pursed lips was all the answer he needed. 

“Sleeping… Hyunnie…” You mumbled, your hand lazily lifting up from the mattress to tiredly pat his cheek, and his heart swelled, although he got this way over every little thing you did. Just hearing you breathe had him falling deeper in love with you, every single time he thought that he reached the bottom, he ended up falling another fifty feet or so, coming to the conclusion that his love for you was bottomless, he’d keep falling and falling, and he loved the feeling of it.

Sleep was out of the question, but watching you sleep was one of his favorite past times, so he propped himself up on his elbow, staring down you as you let out a little yawn, your lips smacking together quietly before you rolled back over. “Goodnight, baby…” He whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple. You were his favorite movie, his favorite show, his favorite song… He just couldn’t get enough of you, he was addicted. 

The only problem that he ran into when staying up all night to watch you sleep was when you’d wake up in the morning and he’d be fast asleep, nowhere near close to ready for getting up yet. That meant that by the time his eyes did eventually open, your side of the bed was cold, and then he’d have to run out of the bedroom just to be close to you again.

He wasn’t sure why, but there was always a sense of panic when he felt your side of the bed cold, it meant that he had been without you for longer than he’d like to be, you were away from him longer than he wanted you to be. The cold meant distance, and that was something that he never wanted between the two of you. It was funny though because he knew that right outside the bedroom door, you’d be there, you’d always be there.

This morning was no different, his hand instinctively flying out to hold you only to find you gone, but the incoming sense of panic was delayed when he heard you humming from the kitchen, the running sink water just quiet enough to not muffle out the sweet sounds that came from your lips. “Baby…” He called out to you from the bedroom, and he heard the sink turn off, and then the sounds of your footsteps coming closer to the bedroom before the door cracked open and you peaked through the little slit between the frame. Gosh, you were perfect, a conclusion that he came to about a hundred times a day, but you really… you truly were. “Come here.” He reached his hands out to you, and you let the door swing open just a little more so you could roll your eyes at him. He didn’t even try to hide his neediness, it was there, and sometimes it even seemed like he was proud of it. 

“I’m doing the dishes, Hyunnie…” You cooed, but your words were severely contrasted when you walked further into the bedroom, standing at the edge of the bed beside him. “What were you up all night doing anyway?” You asked, reaching out to softly trace the bags that formed under his eyes from lack of sleep, pouting down at him as you did. He leaned into your touch, his eyes shutting momentarily as his lips pulled up at the corners. “Let me finish the dishes, and I’ll be right back in, okay?” 

You didn’t have a chance to even turn around before his arms were snaking around you and pulling you down onto the bed, locking you in against him as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “Wouldn’t you rather be doing something else, baby?” He murmured, nipping lightly at your skin, feeling your body rise in temperature against him. “The dishes can wait… but I can’t… I want you… It’s been so long…” His hold tightened around you as he whined, rutting his hips against you to show you just what he meant, just what he wanted. 

“It hasn’t been long at all, it hasn’t even been a full 12 hours…” You retorted teasingly, rolling over in his arms so you could face him. “You should be too tired to be this needy… You should get some more sleep. I’ll be back when I finish cleaning, and then we can do whatever you want to do.” He always took your words as a promise, a vow, he held onto them like they were scriptures and he was a devoted believer in everything that you said… but right now… he didn’t want to cling onto the promise of later…

“I’m never too tired to need you, baby… I need you now…” His voice was already low, raspy and breathy as his legs entangled with yours, his hand moving along your waist and landing at your hips, his fingers digging into your side and pulling you closer to him. “Don’t make me wait for you… I’ll finish up whatever else needs to be done when I’m finished with you.” 

Was it your heart that was beating so loud or was it Hyunjins behind you? You were sweating, but goosebumps rose along every inch of skin that his fingers trailed across. “You haven’t even eaten yet… and you don’t like cleaning…” You whispered, and you weren’t sure why you were trying to find a reason to not do it when you wanted him just as much, maybe you were just trying to see how much he wanted you. 

His fingers inched further and further down, moving along your thighs before dipping between them causing your breath to hitch in your throat. “You’re all I need… and I can clean up for you. I know your body will be tired…” And then his fingers began to walk, slowly… up and up until he reached your panties, and you cursed yourself for deciding to only put on one of his shirts this morning. “Don’t you need me too?” He whined softly into your hair, his fingers sliding along the slicked lace of your panties, a moan building in his throat when he felt just how wet you already were. “It feels like you do…” 

Your legs clenched around his hand, the heat of embarrassment rushing to your cheeks and making you sweat. “Hyunnie…” You breathed out his name as you pushed your ass against him, feeling how hard he was through his sweatpants. “Don’t you have to work today?” It was the final question because all you really wanted to do was give yourself to him, but you didn’t want to keep him from doing what he had to do. 

“Even if I did… they can wait…” He pushed himself up, maneuvering between your legs and stroking his hands over your upper thighs. “I need you, baby… you’re so beautiful… god, you’re perfect…” He bit his lip, his eyes roaming over your body, memorizing every dip and curve of your figure. 

His nails dug into your thighs as he pulled you further down the bed, letting himself fall over on top of you as his lips crashed against yours, rolling his hips against your clothed slit, reveling in the moans poured from your mouth into his own. Every single one of his movements showed just how desperate he was, just how much he needed you. “Hyunjin… please…” You whimpered, pushing your own hips up to meet each and every roll of his hips, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt and balling it up in your palms to pull him closer. 

“Tell me how much you want me, baby… Tell me…” He groaned, his cock straining against his sweatpants, his head spinning as he tried to get the friction that he wanted, pushing his hips harder against you. “Tell me how much you love me…” He was so whiny, it wasn’t exactly different from any of the other times that the two of you had been together, but he was holding back this time, just enough to hear what he wanted to hear, to be needy, to be extra whiny, and honestly, you loved it. 

Submitting to him was far more fun when he was like this, you loved watching the look of lust in his eyes momentarily change to love and adoration before he took control once more. He always made you feel so special, so loved, like you were the only person in the whole world… And that only made you want him more, need him more, which was exactly what he wanted in the end anyway. “I love you, Hyunnie… I need you…” 

Your words were like gasps as you tugged at his shirt, trying to pull him closer, and the whimper that escaped him was barely audible, coming out as a mere breath when you rolled your hips up against him once more, showing him just how much you needed him. “Oh… fuck…” He gasped, pushing himself up just long enough to yank his sweatpants down, the tip of his cock coated with precum. He didn’t even bother to take your panties off though, pulling them to the side and lining his tip up with your entrance. “I need you now… I love you so much, baby…” He whispered, pushing into you slowly. 

He never had time for foreplay, at least that’s what he said… Although you were sure that it was just the fact that he didn’t have the patience for it. He loved being inside of you, knowing that he was the only one who would ever have you like this. “Shit… Hyunjin…” You gasped his name as you felt his cock stretch you, fill you entirely. He bottomed out instantly, knowing already that you could take him, but he also loved the slightly dazed look on your face when he did it so quickly, your mouth falling open as your eyes rolling back slightly before your eyelids blocked the look of pure pleasure in your eyes. 

“You’re so tight… so wet for me… Only for me…” His face was buried in your neck as he began rocking his hips, taking his time to feel your slick walls wrap around him, his cock coated in your arousal. “You’re mine… all mine…” He whimpered, his arms sliding between your back and the mattress to hold you closer, to push himself deeper into you, his tip pushing against your cervix with each thrust. 

They were slow, and his lips would trail down your neck, parting wherever he stopped to nibble and suck as the sensitive area, leaving love bites that had you squirming and moaning loudly beneath him. You couldn’t even manage words, your mind completely blank, in a haze of ecstasy. All you could focus on was the feeling of him inside of you, his lips working wonders on your skin as he marked you as his own, how tight he held you, and the whimpers and moans that left him whenever you clenched around his cock. 

“You keep sucking me in…” He mused, letting out a breathy chuckle as he nuzzled against your neck, his hot breath feeling cold against the saliva covered skin. “You feel so good, baby… I’ll never let you go…” He was speaking everything that he was thinking, the first thoughts that came up in his lust filled mind were spoken through moans and whines. “I need to feel you more… I want to fill you… So you can never leave me… You can’t leave me…” 

He quickly got up, grabbing your legs and moving them over his shoulders before leaning over you again, the new position had your back arching off the bed, feeling him so deep was dizzying and almost painful, it felt like you couldn’t breathe, but you didn’t even care as he started thrusting again, the moans of his name were cut short in your throat as your nails dug into his arms, leaving red crescents along the skin. “Won’t leave you… D-Don’t stop…” You managed to mutter as his thrusts became harder, pushing you into the mattress. 

“Are you gonna cum, baby?” He whispered, his eyes soft as he looked down at you. “Tell me when… I want to cum with you… Make sure you tell me, baby…” You nodded your head as a choked out moan left you, his words alone had your stomach tightening and your vision going blurry, your grip on him growing tighter still as your legs began to shake. 

“Cum… Cumming… Hyunnie…” You gasped, the words a sharp exhale as you tried to pull him closer, your back arching off the bed. His hands moved down your waist, pressed you against the mattress to keep you steady as he continued to thrust, your walls pulsating around him had a string of slurred curses and moans and whimpers all interlaced pouring from his lips like a waterfall. 

His hold on you was bruising, but the pain felt like nothing more than pleasure as his pace became faster, rougher, less rhythmic, chasing his own release. One more hard thrust had his tip pressed against your cervix as his cock twitched and strings of cum shot out, a feeling of warmth filling you, like hot water had been injected in your veins and it was coursing through your bloodstream, a fuzzy feeling that left you content and relaxed. 

Pulling out wasn’t one of his strong suits, not that either of you really cared, but he didn’t even pull out once he was done. His touch was gentle again, carefully moving your legs from his shoulders and placing them back down on the bed as he ran soothing circles over your calves, up to your knees, and then your thighs. “Are you okay, baby?” He asked, leaning over to kiss along your collarbone before moving up to your lips. “Are your legs sore?” 

You shook your head, smiling lazily up at him. “I’m alright…” You murmured tiredly, and he let out a small laugh as he lowered himself, his chest against yours and his eyes drifting shut as you ran your fingers through his hair. “You said you’d clean up when you were done with me…” You whispered, a small yawn escaping you, the warmth that you felt inside, and against you making you tired. 

He hummed quietly, rolling his hips weakly, reminding you that he was still in you, and he didn’t plan on pulling out any time soon. “I’m never done with you…” He mused, sleepy kisses being sloppily placed wherever he could reach without having to move too much. “I don’t want to leave… being with you right now… being inside of you… It isn’t enough. I need to be with you always… I need you with me… always…” He sighed softly, blindly reaching for the blanket and covering the both of you with it before nestling comfortably against your chest. “Let’s just get some sleep… I’ll get to the dishes when I’m ready…” 

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[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Breakfast

Summary: Finding Dieter in your bed was a nice surprise after not having seen him for a couple of months. Finding Dieter wearing your his shirt in the kitchen the next morning, was an even nicer surprise.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x fem. Reader

Wordcount: 1.7k

Rating: E

Warnings: smut (kitchen sex, unprotected sex, oral; fem. receiving), food play, cum play, nudity, fluff

A/N: I wanted to write a tiny baby smutty Drabble. Then this happened. Unbeta't

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“You’re wearing my shirt,” you hummed with a little grin as you watched him attempt to make breakfast in your kitchen. At least you thought it looked like breakfast. Since when could Dieter cook? 

The shirt he was wearing, your shirt, tight on his upper body making it appear like a too big crop top, his happy trail leading your eyes down his body, his boxers sitting low on his hips. 

Bowls and ingredients were spread around in your whole kitchen, the place looking like a bomb had exploded. 

Dieter turned around, flour on his check, his hair the wavy mess you had run your hands through all night, a smile on his lips as his eyes darkening as he ran them over your naked body, only his familiar robe covering your shoulders.

You were more than surprised to find Dieter in your bed after coming home from a late shift at the hospital last night. You had been operating all day, wanting nothing more than to soak in your bathtub, but all of that was forgotten when you saw him. 

Dieter and you…. You weren’t a couple per se. Mostly because you two did not see each other much and Dieter wasn’t a fan of labels. Yet you did all the things you would consider a couple would do.

He had come into your life with a broken arm you had operated on, sneaking his way into your life and heart as he recovered. 

Dieter spent all his time with you when he was home. Always at your place because deep down he hated the house he had bought after his divorce in a drug haze. You didn’t know that he had sold it earlier this month, wanting to surprise you and ask you if you would like to live with him. At a new place, a place you would search and make a home together. 

All his stuff was here. You had cleaned out your wardrobe so all his colourful robes and shirts had a place. 

His fan mail also came to your place, which was always an experience when you helped him open it and answer the many letters (he insisted to do it himself)  leaving you with the beautiful shirt Dieter was currently wearing that you had stolen from him. 

It was a bright pink shirt with his face in the front, his signature smirk on his lips. It was just big enough so he could wear it, not even covering his belly button and sitting tight on his biceps.  But it fit you just right to sleep in, the first time you wore it meant more as a joke until he had fucked you in it, making you tease him for now finally be able to look at himself while he did so.

“Technically it’s my shirt. It was a gift, my face is even on it,” he winked, his thumbs pointing to the print of himself on his chest. You walked over as he opened his arms, looping yours behind his neck. He kissed you softly, his hands slipping under the robe, playfully slapping your ass, squeezing your cheeks to pull you even closer to him. 

“And you look much better naked anyway,” he hummed against your lips, making you grin. 

“I want it back,” you pouted and he chuckled before kissed you again, his tongue parting your lips, dipping into your mouth. You moaned softly as he deepened the kiss, walking you slowly backwards until you felt the wall behind you. Dieter kissed down your jaw, one of his hands sliding between your legs finding you soaked. 

“Time for breakfast,” he grinned before he slowly lowered down on his knees, kissing his way down your body. His nose nuzzled into your hair, inhaling deeply as his hand slowly ran up your left leg before he pulled it up and over his shoulder, his eyes looking up at you, a dirty grin on his lips. 

“I haven’t even showered…” you shook your head, biting your lip. 

“Good,” he hummed, before his tongue slipped through your folds. 

He had fucked you twice last night (he might have popped a pill) both of you too tired to get out of bed and clean up after not seeing each other for almost three months, content to just stay in each others arms and fall asleep. 

You let your head fall back, keeping your eyes on him as he slowly licked into you. One of your hands slipped into his hair and you sighed. He groaned, his tongue flicking over your clit. 

“I can still taste us from last night,” he closed his lips around your clit and sucked while two of his fingers pushed into you. 

“Dieter,” you moaned, pulling at his hair gently while his tongue lapped at you, his moan downright filthy as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. 

He pulled his fingers out only to replace them with his other hand while he pulled his cock out, slowly stroking himself as he ate you out. 

“Fuck, baby….” you pulled at his hair, hard and he groaned into your pussy. 

You wanted him. And you wanted him now. 

You pushed him away, making him frown as you got your feet back to the ground, pulling him up to you so you could kiss him. Tasting yourself as he licked into you and you felt him turn you around helping you to sit on the counter, all while not parting from your lips. 

He pushed his robe down your shoulders, his lips kissing down your neck. 

He was hard against you and you reached down, closing your fingers around his cock, stroking him. He groaned against you, his hand over yours as he stepped closer, lining himself up and pushing into your heat. 

You crossed your legs behind him, arching your back against him as he slowly fucked into you. 

“Shit, always so tight and fucking…” he watched his cock enter you for a moment before he leaned down to suck on your nipple. Resting your weight on one of your arms behind you, your other hand ran up his arm, until your hand rested on the back of his neck, holding onto him. He hummed against you, still fucking into you as his tongue flicked over your nipple. You smiled, moaning out softly as you began to move your hips to meet his thrusts.

Releasing your nipple with a plop his grin got mischievous while you raised an eyebrow as he reached behind you. You grinned as you looked down at him, his printed face on the shirt winking at you. 

“Wanted to make pancakes,” he hummed, slowly fucking into you, as his fingers came into view, now dipped in what looked like nutella as he brought them to your breast, spreading it over your nipples before he held his fingers out to you and you licked them clean. 

“Did you just dip the fingers you just had inside me with into the nutella jar?” you asked amused while he grinned. 

“Jep,” he said before he leaned down, moaning as he licked the nutella off your nipples. 

You whimpered, feeling your nipples hardening, rolling your hips against him, wanting more. 

“Dieter please baby make me cum,” you whined and he bit softly into your nibbple before he released it, both of his hands coming to rest on your hips as he gave you one hard thrust, making you cry out. 

“You want to cum?” he rasped and you sucked your bottom lip in, nodding needily. You let go of your grip behind his neck, bringing your other hand down behind you to have some leverage before he began to fuck you harder.

“Want to cum deep inside this pussy so I can lick it out of you,” he groaned, his fingers digging into your skin. 

“Fuck,” you threw your head back, closing your eyes as you felt his cock stimulating that spot inside of you that made you shiver. 

“There… There…. Don’t stop…” you moaned and he focused on that spot. You looked back up at him just in time to see him drop a line of saliva down to where he was fucking you, lubing it up even further. 

Fuck. 

“I know you’re close. Cum for me,” he was pumping into you and you could already feel him twitch inside of you. 

“Cum for me, now,” he snarled and your muscles tensed as your orgasm rushed through you, your body shaking against his as he praised you as his good fucking girl. 

It took a couple of more thrusts before you felt him swell inside you, spilling himself deep inside, warmth filling your stomach. He let go of the grip he had on your hips that would surely leave marks you would wear with pride as his hands came down on the counter while he leaned in to kiss you humming against your lips. 

“I could get used to waking up like that,” you smiled against his lips and he chuckled. 

“I… might need some help with the pancakes still,” he said and you reached one hand up, cupping his cheek before you kissed him again. 

“I’ll help you,” you said and he sighed. 

“I do love you, you know?” he said and your smile softened. 

“I know. I love you too,” you pulled your arms around him, hugging him close. 

He felt you shiver. 

“I want my shirt back,” you mumbled against him and he chuckled before he parted from you just long enough to take his shirt off, pulling it over your head. 

“Now it smells like me,” he kissed your forehead and you grinned. 

“It smells like sex,” you said and he nodded cheekily before he kissed you again and slowly pulled out of you, his fingers replacing his cock to keep his cum inside of you, making you whine. 

“Can you keep it inside? So I can lick it out of you later?” he hummed and you shivered. 

“I can… try?” you gasped when his fingers moved. 

He tsked, shaking his head before he knelt down, his face between your legs. 

“Trying is not good enough, baby,” he hummed before he dove back in. 

#my fic #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x fem. reader #pedro pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

[wooahaes]

baked from scratch

pairing: non-idol!(trsr) jihoon x gn!reader

prompt: cinnamon

word count: 0.7k~

warnings: food mentions. hoony being kind of a simp tbh.

daisy’s notes: its been 300 years since ive written for trsr (unless i wrote for trsr between now when i’m writing this (nov 8th and also the 23rd i had a busy month) and when this fic posted....... then ignore me)

Jihoon liked to watch you bake for a reason: your concentrating face was one of the cutest things in the world. You hadn’t even noticed he’d snapped at least five pictures of it at this point, too busy staring at your phone and rereading the recipe to ensure you were getting the measurements correct. Those pictures weren’t going to be for anyone else but himself, sure, but he thought you’d have noticed by now. Usually you did, since Jihoon liked taking pictures of you.

What could he say? Your boyfriend was, in the words of some of his friends, kind of a simp. You preferred “devoted” or “loving,” but he had laughed and told you that maybe he was “kind of a simp” for you. That was fine by him. He had you, after all, and no one else did. He liked calling himself your boyfriend, even if he would tease you over how flustered you’d get. Yet he hadn’t expected you to make cinnamon rolls entirely from scratch. Technically, he was supposed to be helping you...

But how could he resist that cute look on your face? Jihoon, as a guy who was in love with you, simply couldn’t.

“Hoony?” You hadn’t looked up, brows still knit together as you pouted. “I grabbed the wrong bag of flour. Can you grab the bread flour?”

He blinked at you for a moment. “Huh?” He paused, muttering to himself, “There’s a difference...?” He knew the difference between all-purpose and self-rising, but bread flour...? Who needed so many kinds of flour?

You did, apparently. “It--It says it on the bag,” you vaguely pointed back at the pantry. “You’ll see it.”

Was this normal for people who liked baking...? Jihoon would have to ask his friends sometimes. He scanned the pantry, finding the bag you’d asked for and bringing it back over. Jihoon set it down next to you, leaning in to peck you on the cheek--just to get your attention away from your phone. He smiled at you when you finally did look up, visibly flustered as you reached up and brushed your fingers over where he’d kissed you.

“I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”

You knew that you could get a little bogged down in following recipes, especially when baking with your boyfriend. He’d whined at you before that you were neglecting him once, just to tease you--only to comfort you immediately when you showed guilt over it.

(“I just want it to be good, Hoony,” you had said to him with the cutest pout on your face. “I don’t get to bake with you all the time... I want it to taste good, okay? So you can brag to your friends.”)

“It’s cute,” he told you. “I like watching you.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, and Jihoon leaned into press a clumsy kiss against your lips. How could he be the boyfriend of someone so cute all the time?

(Probably because he himself was pretty damn handsome and he knew it.)

The moment Jihoon wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling in closer, you let out a whine. “You’re distracting me.”

He planted a tiny peck against your neck, and you could feel the way his lips curved into a smile against your skin. “Good. I’m getting revenge.” 

“Huh?”

“You’re always on my mind,” he said, “so it’s only fair that I distract you this time.”

Another whine and you pulled his arms away from you, grabbing the baby blue apron you’d had left folded up for him. You pushed it against his chest, “You’re supposed to be helping.”

He laughed instead as he took the apron from you, letting the fabric fall from the neat folds it’d once had. “Okay, okay,” he said, pulling the loop over his head--the neat little bow already fixed from the last time the two of you cooked together.

At your command, Jihoon turned around so you could secure the other tie for him. He’d always insist that he could do it on his own, but he liked the careful way you tied it into another neat bow. He liked being able to turn around and grace your lips with another gentle kiss as thanks.

“So,” he said, turning back to the counter full of ingredients. “Where do we begin?”

general taglist: @twancingyunhao​

#wooahaes.fic #treasure imagine #treasure x reader #treasure x you #treasure fics #treasure fluff #park jihoon x reader #park jihoon x you #park jihoon fluff #wooahaes.dec22

[writerlyhabits]

Do you have any Bucky fics that are inspiring u rn? Or catching your attention? I love what you write and am all caught up, so loved to hear if anything has stood out to you!

OKAY it took me so long to answer because I went digging through my drafts and my archive to find a very specific fic, and I found it. This is the first time I've done a list of fic recs like this? So just bear with me 💛

fruitful by @bubblebuckys

If you're wanting something similar to the Blue is for Ben fic I just posted, I cannot recommend this one enough. Dilf Bucky Barnes, little six-year-old Becca has my heart, and the smut?? It's hot. That's all I'm gonna say about that

one in a trillion by @softlybarnes

This is another one you might like if you enjoyed Blue is for Ben (I've got to come up with a cool acronym) I went through all of the emotions in my arsenal, and then found some more. It's a pregnancy story, and if that's your thing, I'm gonna warn you right now... After I was done reading this I felt empty because I didn't have my baby to hold to my chest once she was born, beautiful writing 💛

looped by @softlybarnes

I mean this with the greatest possible respect; take 50 first dates, remove adam sandler, replace him with a Bucky Barnes who is so in love he can't see straight. You'll get something like this fic, but not quite because it's truly a masterpiece. I laughed, I cried, I want to experience reading it for the first time all over again its so wonderful.

for the love of the game series by @pellucid-constellations

this one sat in my reading list for a while, and I wish I had read it sooner. I never knew I needed baseball Bucky but good god yes I did. It reads like your favorite illustrated cover book from book-tok, goes through all the emotions, and the final relationship that comes out of it is just gorgeous 💛 And please don't gloss over the chapters she has after the plot of the series, they're absolutely wonderful too and have inspired the way I want to form my series' masterlists

I think that's all I'm gonna say for now... obviously, there are so so so many wonderful Bucky fics out there, I've got a few on my reading list that I still have to get to, and many more that I come back to read over and over again. I hope these bring you joy!

Come back and bug me if you need more fic recs, this was fun, and I always love giving the spotlight to well-deserving fics and their authors 💛

#kam speaks #fic recs #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes #kam answers #anonymous #inbox fun #fill my inbox #inbox response

[space-specs]

I, T and X <333

Thanks for the ask bestie, this was very fun!!

I - Has tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why

BBC Sherlock. I really wanted to watch this show when it was all over tumblr and all my friends were watching it back in like 2014, but I never got around to it. Eventually, people stepped back and were like "actually, so much about this show sucks so much", and I was just kinda glad I'd never actually watched it yet and now I won't. If I want Sherlock content, tbh, I'll probably just rewatch "Elementary, Dear Data" from Star Trek: TNG. Or finally finish the Enola Holmes stuff.

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending, about anything at all (gender identity, sexual or romantic orientation, extended family, sexual preferences like top/bottom/switch, relationship with poetry, seriously anything)

Duke Thomas cannot make direct eye contact with people. It gives him a splitting headache. Since eyes both absorb and reflect light, looking directly at someone's eyes creates a sort of feedback loop of light beams for him.

Cass is, in all actuality, older than Jason. However, because there is some ambiguity about her precise age, both of them frequently insist they are the older sibling of the two. They could very easily confirm who is older; they both refuse because they don't want to be wrong.

Steph is more of the common sense in the batfam than people give her credit for. Don't get me wrong, she is far from normal (she is vigilante, she grew up in Gotham), but she is the one with the wherewithal to, idk, solve her problems by actually talking to people. She's clever and witty and quick on her feet and actually some really good and really practical people skills.

Duke and Jason are both functionally immortal for different reasons. (Also, they are good brothers and DC needs to bring back the two of them getting to interact).

Tim doesn't call Bruce "dad" and probably never will. Not because he doesn't see Bruce as his parent, but because "dad" has some very complex connotations for him and he doesn't want to apply those to Bruce. More specifically, because good batdad is canon to me, Bruce is better than what "dad" means to him. (It’s also important to me that Jack does try to be a father to Tim and does love him. But loving your kid is not always enough. Sometimes you still hurt them).

There's definitely something I'm forgetting that I'm even more die hard about, but this is already more than I intended on writing for this one 😂 needless to say this is a fun question. (Also maybe putting this out will kickstart me writing the fics I have planned based on 3 of these)

X - top 5-10 characters who are yoUR PRECIOUS BABIES AND YOU WILL DIE DEFENDING THEM

Tried very hard not to just put every single batkid on this list but know that I would go to war for any of them I love them all so much.

In no particular order

1. Jason Todd -- listen, do I think his philosophy on crime should be applied to the real world? No, absolutely not. Has he done anything wrong ever? Also no.

2. Duke Thomas (bonus: the whole We Are Robin crew) -- if you hate Duke Thomas, meet me in Denny's parking lot. Something is clearly wrong with you and I will right it via blunt force trauma /j.

3. Tim Drake -- Catch me untangling the mess that is his fanon and canon characterizations and weaving a beautiful tapestry out of it. I see so many wrong interpretations about him and I am tired. Very carefully sorting out what should and shouldn't be kept from both fanon and canon every time I write him.

4. Cassandra Cain -- she has done nothing wrong ever and she deserves to be Batman. my favorite weirdgirl ever <3

5. Trevor Belmont -- my wife /p just introduced me to Castlevania and I did not expect to love it this much. Trevor is my babygirl and I would die for him.

6. Sypha -- I love her soooo much and I am dreading any potential romantic arcs to come about since she's the female lead because I really don't think she needs it. Please let her be cool af and single and not ruined in favor of the inevitable contrived romance, oh god.

7. Rise!Mikey -- I started my dive into tmnt content with Rise and then I tried to go back and watch 2012 because people said it was also good but they were so mean to Mikey 😭 I couldn't do it. He is like a squeaky toy to me.

8. Rise!Donnie -- I am captivated by his autism swag. Enough said. (Him and Mikey as a brother duo is so precious to me).

9. Razer -- Watch Green Lantern: The Animated Series if you haven't already. Do it. I promise you will not regret it. I won't say anything because spoilers but I have so much to say.

10. Talia al Ghul -- I am taking a knife to canon and carving out the parts I don't like because she is a good mom, goddammit!

Bonus: Koriand'r. I haven't read enough comics to know much about her, but I respect woman juice everyday for my favorite 6+ ft buff alien woman. (She should get to be huge and strong and I will fight for that).

#ask game #spec-text-ular #dc #batfam #batfam headcanons #duke thomas #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #tim drake #jason todd #just tagging the hc section because i don't want to clog up any other tags with this lol #had a lot of fun with this and ending up writing way more than i expected lol

[alecmagnuslwb]

Time Doesn’t Love You Anymore

Read on AO3

Day One

“I got the magic in me, every time I touch that track it turns into gold!” his phone rings out from the makeshift nightstand that’s actually just a stack of old yellow pages.  

Zatanna groans reaching out in an attempt to silence the damn thing, not even lifting her head from under the covers. She pushes out a little too hard dislodging one of the yellow pages from its Tetris style stack nearly knocking them all to the floor. Sometimes she really hates staying in one of John’s so-called safehouses.

Above her she hears a deep sleep addled chuckle and feels the warm press of skin against her back as John stretches for the phone. The motion moves the covers down past her shoulders and she grumbles as the sunlight rudely hits her eyes.

“What?” John says answering the phone, she grumbles again moving her pillow from under her head to over her ears. The conversation goes muffled after that until she hears the distinct snap of John closing his ridiculous drug dealer flip phone.

“Zee?” he says rubbing a warm hand up slowly up the back of her oversized Star City tourist t-shirt. With his other hand he slowly pulls the pillow from her grasp she only yields when his fingers start trailing up and down her spine slowly, a touch she always just melts right into.

She flips over and John’s hand stays put on her skin resting on her stomach. “What?” she says finally opening her eyes to look up at him.

“That was Chas, a friend of a friend gave him a tip on that cup Midnite’s been after,” he says slowly moving his thumb back and forth against the delicate skin of her abs. Zatanna hums in response. “It seems it’s right here in New Orleans and in a mausoleum not far from here.”

“Good for it,” she says and pulls the blankets up over her head again. John chuckles again tugging at the covers a bit just enough to uncover her eyes again.

“We should go check it out, last thing anyone needs is for Midnite to get his hands on yet another magical artifact to hold over everyone else,” he says. Zatanna sighs cracking open her eyes once again and lifting herself up to lean on her elbow mirroring John’s position.

She concedes his point, any chance to have something over Midnite and actually be able to bargain with is a good thing. Especially for her boyfriend, he’s always getting himself into tangled deals with the man.

That being said she has no intentions of leaving this bed just yet, they were out far too late last night dealing with some League business that had been floated her way by Diana. She was happy to do it, she’s has to keep that Justice League membership card up somehow, but that doesn’t mean she’s not going to catch up on her sleep in the aftermath of it.

She trails her fingers along his collarbone and starts traveling down, down, down until her fingers trail through the dusting of hair on his chest.

“Okay, but five more minutes here,” she says trailing her finger and eyes lower and lower.

John’s breath catches when her fingers move the cover even further down and she reaches his belly button.

“Your hand gets much lower and it’s gonna be a hell of a lot more than five minutes,” he says not trying to stop her in any way.

Zatanna shrugs lifting her eyes up to his and showing him an innocent little smile. “And that’s a bad thing?”

John lets out another stuttering breath as her fingers stop their path downwards bypassing the spot he wants them most. She trails to the side lingering back and forth at the top of one of his thighs.

“And everyone thinks I’m the devil in this relationship,” he says with a smile shifting so that her back is pressed into the mattress. He situates himself so that he’s comfortable between her legs and she smiles lifting a hand to run through his hair.

“Not my fault you’re such a sucker for me,” she says cupping his cheek with her hand and running her thumb along his lower lip. John moves just a bit taking the digit into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it slowly once, twice. Zatanna’s breath hitches this time.

Slowly he releases her finger and her hand drops as John leans down placing slow open-mouthed kisses on her neck trailing a line down, down, down.

He doesn’t mention going to a mausoleum for a long, long while.

It’s the latter half of sunset by the time they reach the mausoleum, the bright summer sun low in the sky minutes away from welcoming night. The outside of the crypt is warded, but not too heavily at all; John places one sigil on the weather worn stone and it all drops.

Inside there’s not a single protection, Zatanna steps in first and waves a hand across the air forming a trail of glowing lights along the ceiling to illuminate the space. The place is largely barren, no caskets empty or filled, nothing but some broken down old gates and a few hundred cobwebs.

And there in the center sits the cup nothing special or seemingly magical about it. It looks like a normal silver chalice, worn and aged by however many years it’s been sitting in the same exact spot for. There’s not a whiff of magic in the air, unusual for any corner of the entire city.

“That’s it?” Zatanna says scrutinizing the thing, her arms crossed.

John shrugs stepping closer to the stand where it rests, “Chas says it is.”

Zatanna hums, Chas is usually right and despite its outward appearance and its lack of any sort of energy signature this wouldn’t mark the first time Zatanna has seen great power come from something so mundane.

“What’s it supposed to do?” she asks.

“Supposedly drinking from it will grant one powers unknown,” he says continuing towards it. “Sounds like a bunch of shite to me, but Midnite doesn’t think it is and I’m always happy to have one up on Mr. chose no sides himself.”

He tilts his head and smirks over his shoulder at her before he takes the final step right up to the stand.

John doesn’t even touch the cup, just hovers in its space his foot still a full inch from the base of the stand but before he so much as lifts a hand fully over it, before Zatanna can even say a single backward word John goes up in flames. The sick crackling of skin and the unnatural falling into ash happens in an instant, he doesn’t even have the chance to scream.

Zatanna rushes to his side but it’s far too late not even a full second has passed and as soon as her fingers reach him she brushes through ash drifting in the air, his bones shattering to the ground with a loud crack in the quiet echo of the empty mausoleum.

Zatanna falls on her knees to the floor alongside what’s left of him eyes wide, breath heavy, she’s fairly certain she feels the track of wet tears from her eyes, but mostly she just feels nothing. She feels vacant, like she’s not even here like this isn’t even real, like this is some horrible nightmare she’ll wake up from at any moment. She digs her hands hard into the cobbled stone beneath her the ash of the man she loves, loved, seeping underneath her fingernails.

She’s not sure how long she stays there, she’s not sure how much time passes, but eventually she’s not alone. Doctor Fate settles by her side taking off his helmet and then it’s just her friend Khalid settling a heavy sorrowful hand on her shoulder. She’s so out of body she’s not certain if he asks her what happened or just figures it out for himself, she vaguely hears him say something about feeling a surge of magical energy and tracing it to her, but none of it truly registers.

A dark gloved hand that belongs to some bat settles on her shoulder in passing and she replays the morning when everything had been okay. A red cape flits past the corner of her eyes and she thinks about how she should have not let him step inside this place without checking it more thoroughly. A ghostly energy with a flash of red hovers around her tentative and frantic at the same time and she finds herself replaying the last milliseconds of John’s life and hollowing out a little more when she realizes just how similar it is to when her father burnt to a crisp in her arms as well.

Another pair of fishnets kneel down beside her before leaning in and placing strong arms around her shoulders, blonde hair brushes against her cheek and that’s what breaks her from her semi-catatonic state, the proverbial dam breaks and she just sobs and wails and she’s certain it’s a horrible sounding affair.

Eventually between the trauma, crying and dehydration she tires herself out passing out between one last hiccupping sob and the next.

 Day Two

“I got the magic in me, every time I touch that track it turns into gold!” his phone rings out and Zatanna twists and bolts upright. She looks at her hands first, clean and not marred with the ashes of the man she loves. To her left the covers rustle and John curves an arm around her gripping the phone with is fingertips and flipping it open.

“What?” he says his voice muffled by his face still buried half in her pillow. Zatanna just looks at him as he talks to whoever’s on the other end of the line waves of shock and relief washing over her. He slowly sits up as he talks noticing the way she’s staring at him; he raises an eyebrow moving the conversation along before shutting the phone and dropping it somewhere in the tangled sheets around them.

“Love?” he starts and she doesn’t even give him a chance to breathe before she’s on him, the kiss is a little desperate and John hesitates to return it at first, no doubt a little worried about her sudden reaction but between one press and the next he gets with the program responding to every movement.

She pulls back after a few more beats and touches her forehead to his.

“Whew,” he says and she feels the puff of his breath against her lips still so close, warm and real and alive. “What was that for?”

Zatanna just shakes her head. “Bad dream,” she says raising one had to rest over his heart, happy to feel the steady beat underneath her fingertips. “Very bad dream.”

Because that’s what it was, no matter how real it felt, she’s had some doozy dreams like it before so she’s not unfamiliar with the feeling. She lingers close for a few moments coming down from the shock of the nightmare before pulling back.

“You gonna be okay?” John asks quietly reaching out to brush the hair that’s fallen into her face away. She nods feeling the tension that the nightmare left behind exit her body, her shoulders loosen. “Want to talk about it?”

She shakes her head and gives him a small reassuring smile. Maybe later, right now she just needs the distraction of seeing him right in front of her.

John smiles one of those rare bright smiles he lets out and kisses her on the cheek.

“So, what was that phone call about it?” she asks.

“Chas has a lead on that artifact Midnite has been after, right here in the city,” he says and starts going on about it. Zatanna listens carefully and a little worried, it’s exactly the same thing that led to that horrible nightmare.

It’s a coincidence though, definitely. He’s been talking about this cup a lot lately so of course it was on her mind, of course her dream latched on to a thing that’s been near the top of their to do list for weeks now. It’s purely coincidental.

But just to ease her mind Zatanna plays things out differently, she doesn’t talk him into lingering in bed. John makes them a late breakfast; she puts on a completely different outfit than the one that ended up covered in ash and convinces him to walk through the city to the mausoleum instead of portaling over.

There’s a weird air of deja-vu around it all, a weird lingering of the nightmare at the edges of her mind. Everything is playing out differently than the dream, but only because she made it that way and when the mausoleum comes into view her uneasiness grows. It looks exactly like it did in her nightmare and she’s certain she’s never seen it before.

They get in just as easily, there’s still barely any sort of magical signature around it. John puts one sigil on the stone and it falls away like there was never a thing in the way in the first place. It’s the same as it was in her dream she just doesn’t brush it off this time.

“Wait,” she says tugging John’s coat before he can step inside of the crypt. John raises an eyebrow in question. “I’ve got a bad feeling, my bad dream it was just like this and it didn’t end pretty.”

“How not pretty?”

“Like you dead not pretty,” she says eyes lingering over his shoulder looking into the mausoleum, it’s just as dark but she’d bet money that cup is sitting in the exact same spot on the exact same pedestal.  

“You think it was a prophetic kind of dream?” he asks turning fully towards her his hands on her shoulders.

“I mean that’s not usually my thing, but it’s way too similar,” she says reaching up and holding his forearms a sense of urgency in her voice. She does not want him going inside of there.

“Okay, then I won’t go in,” he says easily. Occasionally stubborn as he can be sometimes he just listens to her and she’s never been more grateful for those moments until now.

She breathes out a sigh of relief tugging him further back from the entrance.

“Let’s run a few more spells over it, make sure nothing’s off,” she says hand already outstretched to start a few more scans.

John nods his head. “Alright, I’ll take the back you take the front,” he says with a wink as he turns back to shut the mausoleum gate he’d easily broken into. He shuts the gate fully and winces.

“John?” she says turning back to him and he pulls his hand away and looks down.

Flames crackles at his skin and not the bright orange ones she’s familiar with him carrying.

“Shit,” he says and just like in her nightmare they take him over completely.

This time she screams his name when his body succumbs to the flames to the ashes, she screams because this time there’s no way it’s not real; this time she won’t wake up and it’s a nightmare, maybe it never was in the first place.

When Khalid shows up this time she’s sitting with her back to the mausoleum her fingers gripping into the grass tightly. She’s crying still when he leans down and reaches an arm out to comfort her, crying because she could have stopped this, she saw this coming. Something out there gave her the foresight and she brushed it off as a dream. She knows better than to ignore something like that, goddammit she knows better.

She knows better and now John’s dead because she didn’t listen to it.

When Khalid takes off his helmet Zatanna can’t bear the look of sorrow, of pity on his face so she shuts her eyes tightly and curls her fingers even tighter into the grass.

 Day Three

“I got the magic in me, every time I touch that track it turns into gold!”

Zatanna sits upright in an instant watching as John stretches out behind her for his phone clumsily.

“What?” he answers it and Zatanna snatches it from his hand.

“Chas?” she says confirming it for herself.

“Hey, Zee,” he starts and she cuts him off hanging up the phone immediately. She moves to throw it to the end of the bed, but changes her mind flipping the phone over and taking the battery out for good measure. Her phone is somewhere around here and she vaults from the bed to give it the same treatment for when Chas inevitably tries her next.

She can’t blame him if he does after that display of panic she just provided, but she has good reason to be in a panic.

She finds her phone in a pile of last night’s clothes and dismantles it as well. She lets out a breath as she tosses the battery to the other side of the room.

“Um, Zee?” John says voice filled with concern and confusion. She turns standing to a full height to look at him, him alive and well at least for now.

“I think I’m stuck in a time loop, and that cup you’ve been trying to find, well Chas found it and it started this whole thing,” she says running a frustrated hand through her hair.

John runs a hand across the stubble on his jaw and nods as he works to get out of bed himself.

She’s not sure if it’s the worry in her voice, the no doubt look of fear on her face or just his unstoppable faith in her, but he doesn’t question it, doesn’t second guess it or think she’s crazy for a beat. He just simply says, “Tell me about it.”

So she does, she settles down at the kitchen island a cup of coffee in her hand grounding her to the now and not to the what could be and tells him everything about her past two Wednesdays.

“So we don’t go to the mausoleum,” he says easily when she’s done. He curls a hand around her wrist stroking the skin lightly.

“John I don’t think that’ll work, it’s all connected to there, so there is where answers might be,” she says moving her hand to link their fingers together.

“It is, but the only way to know if breaking it is just not going is to not go,” he says. “I don’t die maybe it’s over.”

Zatanna shakes her head. “You know it’s not that easy, it’s never that easy.”

John shrugs, “Maybe just this once it will be.” It sounds borderline optimistic which means it must be really bad, she’s the optimist not him.

“But the day doesn’t reset when you die, trust me I have to live with it for a while,” her voice cracks a little when she says the last part. John shakes his head and rounds the counter pulling her into his arms.

“I know this is gonna be hard, but it’s the only way to know for sure that it’s not this easy,” John says. He presses a kiss into her hair. “If the day starts over again whether I make it through today or not then you tell me all about it again and we figure it out together.”

She pulls her arms around his middle tightly and takes a deep breath.

“We need to look up more about that cup, I need to know everything I can about it no matter what,” she says pulling back and looking up into those deep blue eyes she’s seen burn up right before her twice now. She can’t stomach seeing it again.

They spend the day buried in a few hundred books she conjures up from every library she has access to and a few she doesn’t but can’t be bothered to ask permission for right now. This is a time sensitive situation she can deal with the fallout if the day doesn’t restart.

The cup has barely made a peep in its years of existence, most of what they find correlates with the vague knowledge that John had given her on the first day.

It’s surrounded by myth more than fact. No one’s ever had it in their presence for longer than a few minutes. It’s powers, if any are largely unknown. Most of the accounts even the ones from some of the greatest magical minds in history have chalked it up to nothing more than a totem of luck at best. She disagrees, she’s had the opposite of luck since they came into contact with it.

She hovers over him a bit more than she should brushing her fingers across his skin or through his hair every time he passes by. They make it all the way to 11:50 without incident and for a bright hopeful moment she thinks that maybe he was right, maybe this will be easy to get through.

So of course, just as she thinks that it all goes to shit. They’re sitting on the couch surrounded by books and Chinese takeout boxes John has a cigarette hanging from his lips his focus on an old weathered book when the window rattles. Zatanna notices it not eager to brush it off as something as simple as the wind. She stretches out her hands magic already brewing at her fingertips.

The weather picks up lightning strikes and thunder rolls, the window shatters and Zatanna ducks. The last thing she hears is John shout.

 Day Four

“I got the magic in me, every time I touch that track it turns into gold!”

Zatanna groans into her pillow and reaches out an arm shoving over the entire makeshift nightstand. She doesn’t know what the fuck happened last night, or this night last night, whatever the hell it is, but she’s pretty sure John wasn’t going to survive or if he had midnight was going to trigger a restart one way or another.

“Damn luv,” John groans leaning over to look at the tossed about stack of yellow pages and his phone. She lifts herself up and flips over rubbing a frustrated hand over face as she looks at the ceiling staring angrily at the crack that’s streaking along the discolored white paint.

She turns her head looking him in the eyes with a sigh. “We need to talk,” she says praying to someone that this will be the last go around.

This time they decide they have to go to the mausoleum, staying at home didn’t achieve much. They scan and spell and do a million little ward checks and safety sigils on John before they even get within a hundred yards of the place.

This time he makes it all the way in, even picks up the cup, only to end in ashes and flames.

***

Ten days pass much in the same way. She wakes up, screams bloody murder at John’s phone, tells him everything and then they get to work. For ten days they call friends for leads, friends of friends, even a few friends of friends of friends much to no avail. Very little new information comes their way about the cup itself and as for time loop well every time loop spell is different every time loop spell has its own eccentricities and lessons to be learned.

Every day she watches him die, sometimes it’s just like the first time, sometimes like the second, every now and then they don’t even get inside and he still bursts into flames. Once they spend the whole day going through the entire graveyard, checking for anything that might have a connection to their mausoleum and somehow a zombie pack rises from a corner of graves tearing into John’s flesh and hers before midnight even hits.

Every day that passes she feels a little more broken, a little less hopeful.

 Day Fifteen  

She doesn’t even stand a chance this time, John’s dead before breakfast. She ignores the phone ringing; she just stays in bed and lets John kiss her and slip out the door by himself this time. She doesn’t feel like explaining the time loop, she doesn’t have it in her to watch him burn today.

Just one day, she needs just one day to try the one thing she hasn’t, to reach out to the one person she hasn’t yet.

Tracking down Doctor Fate is never an easy thing to do and he never appreciates when people just summon him up without warning, but she’s beyond caring about that now. She gets dressed quickly and pulls her hair into a ponytail and moves the couch and coffee table out of the way to draw the sigil to summon him on the living room floor all while trying not to think about John dying alone.

She says the words and the sigil lights up gold and blue with an angry Doctor Fate floating in the center, or she assumes he’s angry it’s not like he has facial expressions.

“You know I don’t like to be summoned this way Miss Zatara,” the voice inside the golden helmet booms. “I have no-“

Zatanna raises a hand, her eyes cold and hard cutting him off.

“Listen, you can give me the whole respecting the laws of my magic and interference speech later,” she says knowing there won’t be a later. “I don’t need the all-knowing Doctor Fate to tell me he can’t tell me things right now; I need my friend Khalid. So, if you could drop the helmet and let me talk to him that’d be great.”

Fate tilts his head in consideration. “That’s quite demanding of you,” he says his feet finally settling to the ground.

“Yeah well I tend to feel pretty demanding when Constantine keeps dying,” she says frustrated, she doesn’t have time to argue or listen to his philosophy.

The glow around him settles and finally the helmet comes off at that. Khalid looks at her concern overtaking his young features. She’s seen that look on a lot of faces lately and suddenly she’s missing the unfeeling glow of a golden helmet instead.

“Keeps dying?” he asks stepping outside of the sigil and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Time loop,” she says and tells him everything, well not everything, there’s a lot of useless information she’s learned over the last few days. He listens to it all and she’s pretty sure the helmet does too.

“You’ve learned a lot,” he says when she’s done. “And you’re certain no one has specifically placed this curse on you, it’s the cup?”

She nods. She’s already gone through the list of usual suspects; Midnite stays neutral so it can’t be him even if he wants to get his hands on the cup, Nick is locked away tight, Faust isn’t clever enough for something like this and anyone she’s fought with the League is preoccupied with trying to destroy other League members or the world at large not just fucking with her.

Khalid is thoughtful for a moment his arms crossed, the helmet glows from where he’s sat it on the coffee table.

“I don’t have any answers that you haven’t already found, but he might,” he says gesturing to the helmet. Zatanna sighs, Fate tends to be more ominous than helpful, but she relents.

Khalid puts his hand on her shoulder one more time giving a comforting squeeze before he puts the helmet back on. A burst of light and Fate is once again floating before her.

“You know as well as anyone, that sometimes you cannot fight magic. Sometimes you must let it take its course,” he says and with another burst of light he’s gone. She shields her eyes as he goes, dropping her arm when the bright white light fades.

She huffs angrily at the space where he’d been.

“That’s all he’s got, let it take its course,” she says flopping down onto the couch. “Fuck that.”

Letting it takes its course will get John killed and she’s not about to let that stick anytime soon.

***

The days start bleeding into one another from there. She can’t remember what number day things happen on, but she remembers every excruciating detail. She tries to act like she doesn’t know just how many days it’s been on the ones where she decides to tell John what’s been happening, but she can tell he sees right through her.

She knows exactly how many days it’s been; she knows exactly how many times she’s watched John die. She remembers when the hellhound showed up and tore him to shreds, she remembers every flame that’s burned him away, she remembers the day he slipped in the shower and cracked his head open bleeding out and she didn’t even know it and for as long as she lives she won’t ever be able to forget the sight of him taking a magical lance to the heart to save her from another Faust scheme.

Every day she’s given some new horrific memory that if she ever does manage to get out of this will haunt her for years to come.

 Day Twenty-Five

She feels stuck, he always dies and it’s not always the cup anymore. Today she lets it happen doesn’t even fight him to stay in bed a moment longer he picks up the cup and he’s gone just like that. She doesn’t scream or cry this time; she just freezes and clenches her fists so hard that she feels the skin break and blood drip down through her fingertips.

She turns her phone off and covers herself in enough glamours that no one will be able to find her unless she wants to be found.

She wanders through the city, aimless and uncertain for hours, blood drying on her hands. She just walks and walks until her legs are as tired as the rest of her. She falls heavily onto a bench and watches the people pass by. Couples hand in hand pass her and she wishes so desperately that could be her and John. Today, the first today, should have been an easy day off in a city with good food and instead it’s become all this.  

A girl in all black and a boy in a trench coat pass by her and it’s too much, she opens up a portal, not even caring if anyone sees and rushes through. She doesn’t realize where she’s sending herself until her feet land on cobbled sidewalk and she literally walks right into a familiar yellow cab.

Chas must hear the thump of her running into it from the driver’s seat because he’s out of his seat in an instant, already standing before her.

“Zatanna!” he says happily, that big smile of his she’s always glad to see. He wraps her up in his arms in a big bear hug that she easily returns lifting her off the ground a little. She smiles a little sadly wishing she could be just as happy to see him. He’s always been, and always will be, her favorite of John’s seedy friends. He’s a good man, maybe the best man she knows choosing to help and stay good even if he’s not really superpowered in any way.

Any other day she’d smile right back, she’d ask him about Renee and Geraldine and they’d laugh about whatever new stupid thing John’s gotten himself into. But today something about his warmth about his joy makes her break immediately.

It’s been quite a few days since she let herself have a good cry she guesses it was inevitable the dam would break again. She sobs into his chest as he settles her back down on the ground, his arms go around her a little tighter.

“Woah, Zatanna, you’re okay,” he says reaching his hand up to brush against her hair soothingly. “You’re okay.”

She’s not sure how long she stands there crying into Chas’ flannel shirt making it a mess of tears, fading makeup and snot. She calms down eventually pulling back a little but he keeps her close his hands rubbing up and down her arms comfortingly.

His face isn’t pitying, she’s gotten a lot of that over the days, it’s just kindness and care.

“I’m fine,” she says hastily wiping the tears from her face.

“You’re not,” he says lifting her head up with a gentle knock under her chin and a smile. “And that’s okay.”

“I should tell you,” she starts sounding the most tired she thinks she’s ever sounded.

Chas shakes his head. “Only if you want to, you sound tired darlin’ and you sound like you don’t want to have to say it all right now and that’s fine.”

Zatanna smiles gratefully brushing a hand uselessly across the damp spots on his shirt.

“Sorry I ruined your nice shirt.”

Chas snorts looking down at it for a moment, “I think being with John all these years has made you forget what a nice shirt on a man looks like.”

Zatanna starts to laugh, but it comes out with a small sob. Just the mention of John gets to her now, especially from someone who loves him as much as she does. She’s glad he’s okay with her not talking, she doesn’t have it in her to break his heart too.

He notices the slip and reaches out again taking one of her hands between his own.

“Hey, so what do you need? Need to cry some more or would punching me in the face relieve some of that heaviness you’re carrying even, I’ll let you have three good hits for free,” he says and Zatanna smiles a little. “Or maybe we can take a drive and just be, I’ll only charge you for half on the meter even.”

Zatanna laughs at that a real genuine one.

“A drive sounds good,” she says and he squeezes her hand once before walking her over to the passenger seat. He opens the door for her and she soaks in the familiar comfort of his cab while he gets in. He turns on the radio, some oldies station that he’s obsessed with and they just drive.

He doesn’t push her for answers about her behavior he just hums along with every song that’s on and drives.

“I’m totally not paying the meter,” she says long into their drive, the sun has gone down and she’s starting to nod off. Being comfortable like this she’s staring to wonder how much sleep she’s actually gotten through all this, if she’s gotten any.

Chas chuckles warmly and that’s the last thing she hears before drifting off with her head against window. When midnight comes she doesn’t know not until she wakes to the loud ringing of John’s damn phone the next morning.

 Day Thirty-One

She beats him to the phone; it’s been a month, a full month and she’s so tired. She’s tired of losing him, tired of fighting to stop it for it to only happen no matter what she does. She’s tired of going to everyone she knows for help and coming up empty on answers. She feels powerless, like her magic is a waste of time and space right now, like she’s just a waste of time and space. What good is magic and being a supposedly all-powerful witch if she can’t even save the person she loves most in the world.

She talks to Chas longing for the day she had with him where she didn’t have to go through explaining all this to someone; she nods and agrees with what he says at the right spots leaning far enough away that John can’t hear a single thing he says on the other line. She parts with a cheery goodbye and lies straight to John’s face making up some story about his cab that won’t get John moving to go anywhere.

She wants to make the most of this day, it’s a depressing time loop anniversary for her and she wants to forget for a little while, forget with him.

They waste away the morning in bed, if the sex feels a little more desperate than usual, a little more intense John doesn’t say a thing. They have breakfast in bed, feeding each other in the sappiest ways. She glamours a book that has some stories about the cup into the latest novel in a mystery series she’s been into and sits on the couch all afternoon. John lingers reading something of his own and giving up eventually choosing instead to rest his head in her lap with a cigarette in his mouth. She runs a free hand through his hair tickles of sparkling blue magic playing across her fingertips. They walk down the street to a little bar that makes a damn good veggie burger for dinner and she pulls him back into the bedroom as soon as they’re in the door.

Soon enough he falls asleep. She watches him sleep for a while, his sandy hair tousled, the eyeliner he fell asleep in from the night before still smudged under his eyes and only half his nails painted black. She wants to sear this into her memories, not the horrific visual of him burning to a crisp in her arms.

He shuffles in his sleep a bit, instinctually rolling just a little bit closer to her. She reaches out running her fingers through his hair slowly before she glances at the phone that has become her greatest enemy seeing that the time still gives her an hour till midnight. She slips from bed quietly and waves her hand over John letting some sparkles of peaceful sleep fall all over him to make certain he doesn’t wake.

She gives him one last lingering look as she slips out of the room, he may not remember each day but if there’s any lingering pain when all is said and done at least this time she hopes he won’t even wake up to feel whatever takes him from her this time.

She goes to the mausoleum alone, she shouts backwards words and walks in without a single check, she steps up to the cup and just stares at it.

Nothing happens. No fire, no brimstone. At least not to her, maybe she unknowingly just lit her boyfriend on fire in bed which feels and sounds terrible even if she’ll get another day to stop it.

“What do you want from me?” she shouts at it the sound echoing into the empty mausoleum. Nothing, it just sits there like a boring old cup.

She picks it up from its stand curling the stem hard in her hand.

“Tlem yawa dna ekat lla ruoy cigam htiw uoy,” she snarls at it and nothing happens her magic just fizzles out around the cup. It’s not the first time she’s tried something of this nature, but it’s the first time she’s been here alone.

She lets out a frustrated shout and tosses the cup into the nearest wall hard, it doesn’t even crumple. That’s not new to her either, she’s tossed it into walls, sidewalks and everything in between. It doesn’t even seem to care if she takes it out of this mausoleum the same thing always happens and it never even bends. She picks it up tossing it again and again until her arms are tired, until she feels her phone vibrate in her pocket the five-minute warning till midnight she’s started setting each morning letting her know her time is up.

She uses it wisely taking her frustrations out on the cup again and again and again.

***

She tries to save him every day and fails.

So one day she just leaves. The phone rings and she’s up out of the bed in an instant, tossing on the first pair of pants she can find. John chases after her ignoring the phone that keeps on playing that same damn song.

“Love, where are you going?” John asks hastily following her. She’s barely dressed and she’s already halfway out the door, she just has to get out of here.

She sighs pressing her forehead to the half-opened door before turning back to him.

“I just need to get out of here,” she says and it comes out a little more desperate than she intended.

“Alright, well just give me a minute and we’ll leave town if you want,” he says already turning to get ready and get the hell out of dodge with her. She appreciates his unwavering loyalty to follow along with her no matter what more than he’ll ever know, but she just can’t be with him today.

“No, John, I just need to go alone,” she says grabbing his hands that are reaching for his own discarded pants from the night before. He looks at her his face a mask of worry.

She steps closer and cups his face in both of her hands.

“I swear I’ll explain everything when I get back,” she says knowing that she won’t be coming back and even if she did he won’t be here when she does. She leans in kissing him soft and slow, she savors them all a little more these days, fearful that one will become the last.

“Just trust me, okay?” she says when she pulls back from his lips. He lifts his arms up holding her wrists and rubbing his thumbs into her skin.

“Alright,” he says letting her go. She slowly runs her hand down from his cheek and along his chest before she turns away.

“I love you,” John says. He doesn’t say it a lot, but when he does he pours everything into it and it breaks her heart and pieces it back together at the same time.

She turns quickly to meet his eyes, making sure he knows she means it just as much. “I love you too. I evol uoy oot.”

She catches sight of a small raised smile at the corner of his lips before she shuts the door behind her. She portals to San Francisco, smashes her phone into a hundred tiny little pieces, puts up a glamour spell to protect her from being found and spends the whole day in her old bed. She doesn’t know if it’s the cup or something else that kills him that day, she doesn’t want to know.

She stares at the bright red numbers on the clock beside the bed until it turns to midnight and the day starts all over again.

 Day Fifty

“What if it’s me?” she asks studying the ash underneath her fingertips. It was the cup again this time, just far earlier in the day than usual. She ran before any Justice Leaguer could show up not needing to once again see and feel their sadness and pity alongside her own.

She still had four hours till midnight so she’d wandered and wandered until she ended up here in the House of Mystery leaning back against the bed that’s sometimes theirs, a bed she hasn’t gotten to wake up in in fifty days.

Boston found her there about two hours ago and settled down beside her the best he can. He hasn’t said a word, he’s just listened as she’s spilled out the condensed version of the past fifty days to him.

“What if what’s you?” he asks.

She sighs dropping her hands between her knees. “What if it’s me, what if I’m the one who’s supposed to die?” she wonders, it’s not the first time it’s crossed her mind. Aside from the zombie incident she’s never even been physically scathed on any of the days so maybe it’s her. “Maybe if I die, he doesn’t. Maybe this finally fucking stops.”

She’s so tired, so fucking tired.

“Tanna,” Boston says with so much pain in his voice. John’s his friend and he’s dead and here she is talking about her own death so casually. Just because everyone else gets to start over every single day with no memory of this doesn’t mean they don’t still hurt in the moment.

“He’d never want that, he’d never want you to die for him,” he says. He reaches out hovering his hand over one of hers, the closest to a touch he can muster in this form.

“He’d die for me,” she says and she feels the tears coming, she keeps thinking she’ll run out, but she never does.

“Yeah, well the bastard is a hypocrite that way,” he says with a chuckle and for a moment Zatanna smiles. “Plus on a selfish note, I’d miss you.” She turns her head to look at him, his white eyes look serious and caring.

It’s a good reminder that she has friends in all this, even if she feels completely alone.

“No dying okay,” he says holding her eyes. “You’ll sort this, or the universe will or something, you’ve never been beat and you never will be.”

Zatanna smiles a sad smile his way and lifts up her hand her palm hovering under his, very nearly holding hands.

“No dying,” she says as she leans her head back onto the bed keeping her hand steady beneath her friends. She stays put like that till midnight feeling a little bit lighter just for having him there.

 Day Fifty-Six

She’s decided that this is hell. Knowing the fate that awaits someone you love and not being able to do a damn thing to stop it. Despite the pickup of Boston’s optimism days ago, she still feels too defeated. She’s done a few thousand spells, played the day out fifty-six different ways and she’s still got all that’s left of John under her fingernails.

She’s sitting in a bar on the far side of New Orleans well on her way to finishing a bottle of whiskey the bartender has kindly left for her.

She doesn’t even flinch anymore at the bit of ash at her fingertips she catches sight of as she tosses back her latest glass, she’s becoming more and more numb to it all which is more than concerning. Problem is there’s no one to be concerned about her anymore, anyone who is will just forget to be when the clock strikes midnight.

“Hey, gorgeous,” a voice beside her says sliding into the stool next to her like he belongs there. Zatanna eyes him, he looks like his name is Chad and she’s instantly annoyed by his presence.

“You look lonely, maybe I can help,” he goes on and yeah she may have infinite time these days, but she doesn’t have time for this. Her patience is thin at best fifty-six days into the same day.

She gives the man a fake joyful smile and for a moment she can see he thinks he has a chance.

“The love of my life has died in front of me fifty-four times and this bottle here,” she pauses pouring herself another glass. “Isn’t for sharing.”

He looks like a deer in the headlights and opens his mouth surely about to say something that will just make her more annoyed.

“Og yawa,” she says flicking her fingers in his direction. A blasting magical wind takes hold of him flinging him across the bar and out the door. Everyone in the bar freezes and stares, she ignores them turning back to her bottle and sliding an extra twenty towards the bartender for his troubles. He just shrugs pocketing the money and moving along.

Slowly the other people in the bar decide she’s not a threat to them and go back to their own business. She slowly sips on her refill until someone else slips into the stool she just flung Chad from.

“Well that was quite the show,” Papa Midnite says tapping the bar once signaling the bartender. He slides a drink in front of him without hesitation.

She hums in agreement, she’s not surprised to see him, this is his bar after all.

It's the second time she’s seen Midnite since all this started, the first time had been confrontational Zatanna still holding on to some little bit of hope around day twenty. She’d confronted him fast and violent with John’s blood still drying on her hands from where he’d been mugged of all things. She’d held magic flames close to his face, a thing she usually wouldn’t do, and forced answers out of him about why he wanted this cup so bad.

“Because I like the illusion of power, even if it’s just an illusion,” he’d said. He knew less about it than she did at that point. Whatever that damn thing is it’s not an illusion of power at all she knows that all too well now.

This time though she’s not here to fight him she’s just here to drink.

“Don’t worry I won’t throw you out a door too,” she says taking another sip and looking at him from the corner of her eye. He raises his glass to her in appreciation.

They sit side by side quietly for a few beats before he puts down his drink and turns to her.

“So, where is your lesser half?” he asks.

Zatanna swallows the last of her drink hard. “Dead,” she says feeling her heart lurch at the word.

Midnite’s head drops a little and he hums. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he says running his hand over his goatee. His tone is surprisingly genuine, so much so that she has to turn and look him in the eyes. He looks genuinely sorry, maybe even a little sad with the glow of the bar lights in his eyes.

“He was a right bastard,” he continues on raising his glass and tipping it to her empty one still tight in her grip on the bar. “But he always kept things interesting for me.”

He takes a sip of his drink before turning back to face forward.

“You don’t want to know what happened?” she says refilling her glass.

Midnite shakes his head and waves a hand dismissingly in her direction. “Why bother, you’ll find a way to fix it.”

Zatanna snorts. She wishes she had the same belief in herself that Midnite seems to have.

“Not this time I don’t think,” she sighs running her fingers along her glass, a bit of the ash slips into her drink and she feels bile rise in her throat pushing the glass away from her fast.

Midnite laughs a deep, smooth thing that sounds like how French press coffee would if it could chuckle.

“Bullshit,” he says. He twists a ring on his finger and hovers his hand over Zatanna’s glass. It disappears in a cloudy whisp replaced with another fresh clean one already filled for her.

“Stubbornness is the thing you two have always shared in common,” he says tilting his head thoughtfully. “You show it in different ways, different reactions, but when it comes to each other it’s the same. He’s slipped through hell for you and you’ve put a beat back in his heart against the better wishes of the universes magic, he’ll be back annoying me soon enough.”

Zatanna shakes her head gulping down the new drink in one go. He will be back, that’s true, but it won’t matter because it’ll just end the same way it always does again and again. She doesn’t have to tell him all that though, she doesn’t have the energy too, so she just deflects.

“Is the neutral party encouraging necromancy?” she says trying to make it sound teasing, but it falls flat. This time loop has beat all the humor from her.

Midnite lets out another low chuckle. “Not encouraging, just being smart enough to know to stay out of your way if you choose it.”

He downs the last of his drink and pushes up and away from the bar leaving her to it. She’s drunk enough this time to not even realize when midnight comes.

***

For a brief unexpected run of days, she’s given some new fight. Somehow encouraging though without context words from someone who’s not a friend gives her new drive to fight.

But that drive turns into anger eventually.

One day she just snaps and the only person around to take it out on is the person she’s trying to save. The phone rings and she tosses it against the wall immediately shattering it into a hundred pieces.

John looks at her like she’s gone crazy and before he can even so much as question her she’s railing into him.

She doesn’t know why, it’s not like he planned this, it’s not like she blames him, but she’s just so angry.

Angry at the world, angry at this curse she can’t seem to break, angry at Midnite and Chas and everyone who’s ever mentioned this cup. Angry at John for dying. Angry at herself for not solving this yet. So she picks a fight, yelling at the cup isn’t cutting it anymore evidently, she doesn’t even know what she says first to provoke it, but it’s something harsh enough it stuns John silent. She shouts and says things she doesn’t mean and walks out eventually with a loud slam of the door.

It hurts her to hurt him, but she’s just so damn angry.

The upside is tomorrow she’ll get another shot. She’s not worried about running out of chances to redo this anymore, she can say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing, act as out of character as she wants because tomorrow she’ll be the only one who remembers it, the only one who has to live with it.

She’s out of fight, she’s out of answers, she’s just out. So when the phone rings the next morning she’s determined to just make the most of every second even if it means she’ll lose him again before midnight strikes no matter how hard she tries not to.

 Day Seventy-Eight

Seventy-eight days, seventy-eight deaths most of which she’s seen and she’s finally decided to listen to what Doctor Fate said to her what feels like a lifetime ago.

She lets the magic takes it course. She’s done everything she could think of, she’s altered every course she could and the result is always the same. So this time she just lets the magic dictate the day.

She just accepts fate, destiny whatever the fuck it wants to call itself, she accepts she can’t save him even if it breaks her heart.

The day goes much like the first had just with a few different bumps and changes here and there. She doesn’t fight anything, she doesn’t argue. She just takes it all in in ways that she hasn’t allowed herself to on any of these repeats.

She doesn’t bother checking the time on her phone, she slips it in her pocket out of sight and out of mind. She just keeps her fingers twined with his and listens to him rattle on about finally having an upper-hand against Midnite the next time they have to see him.

She soaks in every word, every bit of his accent, the way he says her name and the way his chuckle sounds when a cigarette is dangling from his lips.

She just soaks it in, accepts whatever this day brings. She’s done being reckless, she’s done fighting. This day has been the closest to the original one yet and she’s letting it go.

It’s a little closer to midnight than usual since they decided to shower together after breakfast when they finally walk into the mausoleum, easy breezy just like it always is.

She lights the place up and feels her minutes to midnight reminder vibrate in her pocket. She ignores it, silencing it quickly as John investigates the space. He steps up to the cup and Zatanna closes her eyes, just because she’s accepted what’s inevitable doesn’t mean she has to watch it.

There’s no sound. No shouts or screams, no sick burning flesh, no ash floating in the air. Just the sound of John making the start of a humming sound.

She opens her eyes as John touches the cup and nothing happens, just nothing. He picks it up and passes it around between his hands back and forth, back and forth like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He’s breathing, he’s whole and he’s humming a fucking Metallica song under his breath tossing an ancient magical artifact around like it’s a tennis ball.

She pulls her phone from her pocket and there in bold letters across a picture of her and John from that day they borrowed the Wayne mansion pool for themselves is the time.

12:01 A.M.

It’s a new day, it’s Thursday.

She doesn’t know if she should scream or cry or laugh, but evidently her body chooses for her, chooses the thing it thinks will be the most cathartic for her. She laughs, hard and loud and frankly maniacal. She feels like the final girl at the end of a horror movie, like she’s riding off in a stranger’s truck as a man with a chainsaw can’t quite catch up, like a girl who just watched the rich bastards who spent all night trying to kill her explode one by one. She won, she fucking won and she doesn’t have a clue how and it feels impossible, but she did and all she can do is laugh.

She probably looks and sounds crazy, cackling like the witch she is, tears of joy? Relief? She’s not sure which, streaming down her face. John freezes with the cup in hand staring at her a look of worry on his face. Something about the look on his face makes her double over in laughter even more, she crouches closer to the ground head down and hands on her knees.

John comes over to her side a gentle hand on her back.

“Luv, you alright?” he says sitting the cup down on the ground. She catches sight of it and falls further to the ground flat on her butt, her legs kicked out on the ground purposefully kicking the cup away from them.

“I’m fine,” she says through hiccupping laughs as she finally starts to calm down. John settles down beside her a hand on her thigh. “Best I’ve been in seventy-eight days.” She giggles a little lifting her head to the ceiling. She wipes under her eyes clearing her face of the tears that fell during her unexpected laughter.

She curls a leg under herself and turns to him lifting her hands to his shoulders.

“I need to tell you something,” she says shaking her head in disbelief.

And tell him she does, everything. She tells him all the little details from day one to day seventy-eight. She tells him the good, the bad and every bit in between. She tells him about the days she didn’t handle it well and the days she made the most of.

She tells him the things she regrets, even if he doesn’t remember them. She even tells him about the day Boston talked her out of letting herself die to save him and he holds her hands a little tighter. She lets it all pour out, seventy-eight days of heartache, frustration and anger and he takes in every word.

It’s well after midnight by the time she runs out of steam, runs out of things to tell him and he pulls her in close. He presses a soft gentle kiss to her forehead.

“You are the strongest woman I know, strongest person I know,” he says his eyes looking a little glassy. “I never could have survived all that, I never could have handled losing you so many times.”

He’s said that before, he doesn’t remember of course, but it’s more comforting and fulfilling today than it was before. Because today he’s alive and she won’t have to go through this same damned day again.

“Let’s go home,” he says rising from the floor. He holds out his hands that she accepts immediately and pulls her up alongside him. “Forget this cup ever existed.”

The cup. Yeah she’s not leaving without dealing with it first.

She drops his hands and raises one of her own putting a protective wall around John. He opens his mouth to argue about it and she silences him.

“Nope, this thing has killed you, so bubble boy it for a minute for my peace of mind,” she says turning and picking up the cup from the ground. She doesn’t bother with trying to destroy it, it’s never worked before and she has an inkling it won’t today either.

She sits it back where it started and closes her eyes. She twists her hands in a complex movement and speaks loudly echoing across the mausoleum.

“Dnes siht raf yawa dna reven tel enoemos eb deppart nihtiw s’ti sehctulc niaga!”

A swirl of her magic, a kaleidoscope of colors swirl around the cup and lift it into the air and in the next second it’s gone puffed out of existence, or at least her existence, in an instance.

She breathes out a sigh of relief waving a hand to drop the protective bubble from around John. She walks over to him and wraps her arms around his waist.

“Home now?” he says rubbing his hands up and down her back. “You need some rest.”

She nods her head into his chest, her nods matching up with the beat of his heart.

 Day Seventy-Nine (aka Thursday)

“I got the magic in me, every time I touch that track it turns into gold!”

Zatanna shoots up immediately from where she’d been curled comfortably in bed her head against John’s chest. No, this can’t be happening.

No, no, no, no, no.

She saw the time, it passed midnight, John’s alive. It’s a new day and this can’t be happening.

John grabs his phone from his own nightstand, not hers where it usually sits, and silences it quickly.

“Sorry, luv, I should have changed it, I didn’t think,” he says reaching out and putting a tentative hand on her shoulder. She deflates with his words and his touch, reaching up to curl her fingers around his.

“Never use that ringtone again,” she says turning towards him. “I never want to hear that song for the rest of my life.”

“Consider it done,” he says moving their joined hands to his lips and kissing the back of hers softly.

 Day Eighty (aka Friday)

She spends more of Thursday, Thursday god isn’t that a nice thing to be able to say, than necessary trying to work out what exactly it is that broke the time loop.

John never leaves her side as she pours over her memory and over the books she’s already memorized but nothing quite adds up. All she can chalk it up to is the cup protecting itself, why it cursed her instead of John who got closest first she’s not certain, but it’s the best she’s got. Hopefully the spell she cast on it will keep it from ever putting someone else through what she went through.

She eventually decides to settle on what Doctor Fate said all along, sometimes you can’t fight magic. And maybe when she finally stopped fighting the fight stopped for her.

She wakes on Friday to a normal alarm and John’s arms around her. He presses kisses across her shoulders, he indulges her need to be a little more cautious and her occasionally overprotective moments as they come one by one.

He definitely doesn’t complain when they shower together and only snorts a little every time she bubble boys him. He even doesn’t bat an eye when she won’t let him use the toaster. She already saw that electrocute him once and she’s good without witnessing that again.

John’s in the kitchen now flipping some stir fry in a pan over the oven’s open flame. Zatanna had only flinched a little when he lit it and the protection spell she sent his way when he did, well it was a small one.

She uncurls herself from the couch and joins him slipping her hands up under his barely buttoned shirt. She warms her hands rubbing them slowly across the light trail of hair on his chest. His skin is always borderline fiery and it’s soothing against her cold hands. She’s so glad she won’t have to go without this anytime soon. So glad he’s breathing and still just as hot blooded as he’s always been.

She drags her nails just above his waistband and his breath hitches a bit.

“So handsy,” he says with a wink over his shoulder to her his focus still on the food in front of him. She shrugs, she’s going to be very tactile for the foreseeable future just to remind herself this is real.

She’s also going to need to make a few of those therapy sessions she’s been skipping up, but that’s a job for Monday. Because there actually will be a Monday, and every day of the week after that. It just feels refreshing to think about.  

A few minutes later their food is done and she backs away from him slowly still trailing her hands across his back. They curl up comfortably on the couch with their plates in hand and some cheesy Godzilla movie on tv, Zatanna’s legs thrown across John’s lap.

When she’s done she leans over to sit her empty plate on the table alongside John’s just as a flame appears on the coffee table. She pulls her hand back quickly and John’s grip on her thigh tightens as the flame dies out a piece of crisp burnt at the edges paper appearing in its place.

Zatanna grabs it slowly and brings it up so that she and John can both read it.

The note is written in delicate, old style cursive that she doesn’t recognize.

‘Thanks for getting that cup for me, New Orleans and its superstitions happen to be all too true for me. Too much hallowed ground and all that, especially with an artifact so shrouded in mystery. Sorry, the process had to be so daunting, they do say that cup can be unpredictable, but hey acceptance is important, right? – your favorite enemy, Circe.’

A second piece of the flaming paper appears on the table as they finish reading the first and she snatches it up.

‘P.S. I’ll let you know if I figure out what it does, or if it’s really good you’ll just hear about it ;)’  

Zatanna turns from the notes in her hand and meets John’s eyes.

“Midnite never did say where he heard about the cup from did he?” John says. He takes the notes from her hand where she’s started to grip them a little too tight. He crumples them up and tosses them into his half-filled glass of water.

“She whispered in his ear and he didn’t even know it, she knew you’d find out and want to beat him to it and she knew that I’d help, she knew we would make it safer for her,” Zatanna says gritting her teeth. This whole time she’d been so angry at so many things and it never crossed her mind that Circe would want something so inconsequential. A cup that for all intents and purposes is nothing more than a trap.

“I’m gonna kill her next time she makes her way to this dimension for putting you through that,” John snarls.

“Imprisonment seems more fitting,” she says in response drifting her hand up and into his hair. She moves her fingers along his scalp and feels his anger simmer down just a bit.

John turns from where he’d been staring at the soaked notes in the glass and looks into her eyes. He leans in and kisses her hard.

“I’ll hunt her down,” he says fiercely pressing another quick kiss to her lips.

Zatanna smiles resting her hand at the base of his neck. “Okay, but can you do that tomorrow?” she says because the word tomorrow won’t lose its novelty any time soon. “I just want to keep basking in your aliveness for now.”

“Tomorrow,” he whispers into the space between their lips. Tomorrow. Isn’t that a beautiful thing?

#my fic #johnzee #john constantine #zatanna zatara #magicblazersource #time loop fic baby! always wanted to write one and finally did

[dinosaurtsukki]

⸺𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓀 27: i should be over all the butterflies (finale)

i should be over all the butterflies | a chuuya x gn!reader smau

a/n: wow, so here's another smau coming to a close. this ended up being much longer than i thought it would be but it was entertaining to write until the very end. i hope you guys like the final chapter and please let me know what you think of it !!

also, i'm sure some of you have been curious about the title. well, it's actually based on the song 'still into you' by paramore. when i first listened to that song i kinda imagined vocalist!chuuya (it's because of the orange hair). if you like, give it a listen while reading this last chapter

ever since he first started performing with the mafia dogs, chuuya had never felt stage fright or even remotely anxious before singing onstage. he even surprised himself when he came to the realization that performing was just second-nature to him.

but god was he nervous now.

usually, he was the one who hyped up the crowd before playing but right now, chuuya busied himself with fiddling with the height of the mic stand as tachihara and dazai took on the role.

"hey everyone!" dazai yelled into the microphone. the crowd in front of the stage cheered in unison.

"you may know us as the mafia dogs," tachihara continued. "but right now, you can think of us as the newest members of the journalism club."

"yeah, we actually just sent our application forms earlier," dazai laughed, glancing sideways at chuuya with a look that expressed 'dude, your turn to say something.'

"so, uh," chuuya cleared his throat. "we're actually going to perform a new song."

the crowd cheered once again and that put a smile on his face. he scanned the people standing in the front row until his eyes landed on you. chuuya bit back a laugh at the matching mustard shirt and pants you were wearing that made it impossible for him to spot. right beside you was ranpo, in crutches but mostly leaning on oda for support.

chuuya took in a deep breath and calmed himself down. having akutagawa right next to him, who looked the happiest he's ever been as he fiddled with the buttons on his keytar, definitely helped.

"this song is actually dedicated to someone. well, two people," chuuya clarified after exchanging a look with dazai. "and, i hope our thoughts come across in this song."

chuuya nodded at dazai and akutagawa, feeling his breath swell in his chest as he began to sing.

"can't count the years in one hand that we've been together. i need the other one to hold you, make you feel, make you feel better"

the roar of the audience gave chuuya a surge of confidence and he grinned widely as he continued to sing. it was always a bit nerve-wracking performing a new song and hoping their fans would like it. after all, he and dazai just poured out their raw emotions into the lyrics and hoped for the best.

for a split-second, chuuya's eyes darted over to make you out in the front row of the crowd again. was that a grin on your face or was he just imagining things? chuuya tried not to let the anxiety grip him.

"because after all this time, i'm still into you"

but at the end of the day, chuuya knew he would "perish and die", in the words of dazai, if he never let you know how he felt.

"i should be over all the butterflies but i'm into you. and baby even on our worst nights, i'm into you."

chuuya could tell that everyone was getting into the song by the time the chorus hit. the audience was jumping up and down in unison to the beat. dazai was leaning into the microphone singing the back-up vocals. tachihara had a wide, gleeful grin on his face he played the drums. even akutagawa was bobbing his head up and down to the music.

seeing all of them getting into the song gave chuuya just a bit of courage to lock eyes with you in the crowd as he sang the next line that condense all of his feelings.

"yeah after all this time, i'm still into you."

...

as soon as the mafia dogs started playing the song, one of the first thoughts in your head was "damn, chuuya's pants look really tight" and then "damn, chuuya looks really good onstage."

you've known him practically your whole life and even though back then he demonstrated no inclination at all for being a band vocalist, it looked like chuuya was born to be one. on the one hand, you felt bad that you two weren't close for the past few years. you would have enjoyed watching their earlier band practices and showing up for his first gig or watching him brainstorm new songs.

but getting to know chuuya again, especially this side of him, wasn't so bad. he was your best friend after all. and thanks to that little introduction he made before singing the song, chuuya's intentions were now clear as day to you.

"let them wonder how we got this far 'cause i don't even need to wonder at all"

you weren't sure if he could make you out in front of the crowd all, even if your mustard ensemble, much less see the expression on your face. there were probably hundreds of students in the campus square all watching and cheering to the mafia dogs' new song. but maybe, just maybe--

and there.

chuuya unmistakably met your gaze in the crowd and you smiled broadly at him in return as he ended the first chorus.

"yeah after all this time, i'm still into you"

'jesus christ, chuuya,' you thought as you smiled to yourself. 'you could have just sent me a text.'

...

"just so we're clear... you do know the song is dedicated to you, right?" ranpo said.

"i'm not that fucking dumb," you scoffed, flicking him on the forehead. right after the talent show, the three of you gathered near a bench just outside your dorm building. the crowds were slowly starting to thin out as well.

"is it... safe to assume that," oda spoke slowly beside him. you laughed slightly at the apparent hesitancy in his voice. "the other person is... me?"

"oda, i'm proud of you," ranpo grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. as if on cue, a text notification from oda's phone rang.

"you should take that like, right now," you insisted.

"really?" oda looked between you and ranpo. "do you need help with--?"

"i'll make it up the stairs on my own," ranpo huffed. "i'm not that helpless you know."

"right," you rolled your eyes. "says the guy who--"

"uh, y/n?"

you turned around to see chuuya approaching the three of you with his hands in his pockets and his guitar in its case on his shoulder. ranpo pushed you slightly forward before hurrying back to the dorm building in his crutches. oda waved goodbye before heading off in the other direction, leaving you and chuuya.

"so."

"so."

"nice... outfit," chuuya nodded at your shirt and pants.

"well, i've always had a thing for monochrome," you laughed, placing your hands on your hips. "look at your outfit though. i mean, can you even breathe in those pants?"

"not going to lie, i almost passed out on stage," chuuya joked and the two of you laughed in unison. "so... what did you think about the song?"

"hmm," you cocked your head to the side. "i think that whoever that song is dedicated to must be very lucky."

"really? then does that mean--"

"ranpo would absolutely love to be your boyfriend. or tachihara's. or is it akutagawa?" you interrupted him. chuuya stared at you with his mouth open before you burst into laughter.

"you should have seen the look on your face!" you pointed teasingly. "like your mouth was all open and everything. i gotta say chuuya i really--"

before you could even finish your sentence, chuuya had wrapped a finger around one of the belt loops of your mustard pants, pulling you close and kissing you right on the lips. instinctively, your arms wrapped around his neck and you felt both of chuuya's hands on your waist.

"you should see the look on your face," he whispered in a low voice as soon as you two parted. the smirk on his lips was enough to make you want to cover your face with your hands.

"i hate you chuuya," you whispered back much to his amusement.

"oh yeah, it sure seemed like you do." he flicked you on the forehead for good measure before walking off, leaving you to catch up to him.

"hey, hey. how did that song go again?" you asked, skipping next to chuuya. "i should be over all the butterflies... it's pretty catchy! you're gonna sing it for me again, right?"

"i literally just sang it for you."

"aw but i want one that's just for me. please chuuya?"

"...fine. maybe tomorrow."

a/n: and that is the end of the series! what happens to the characters next is all up to you guys (i do love an open ending for my fics). let me know what you all think and thank you for reading my series!

⸺𝓉𝒶𝑔𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

@kiyoobi ​​​​ @atsumusdomain ​​​​ @laure-chan ​​​​ @goodfoodxoxoxo ​​​​ @guardianangelswings ​​​​ @kei-ya ​​​​ @loisuke ​​​​ @whootwhoot ​​​​ @liz-multifandom-hotel @kac-chowsballs ​​​​ @violentfarewll @fyoyacanruinmylifethanks ​ ​​​ @nightmare-light ​​​​ ​ @miyakiyo0mi ​​​​ @whorefordazai ​​​​ @rirk-ke ​​​​ @cross-crye ​​​ @alohablue @duhsies ​​​ @alittlesimp @tetsustation @https-inarizaki @himboos @magpiemissy @hanazou @monochromaticelliot

reblogs and comments are much appreciated

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #chuuya #osamu dazai #dazai #edogawa ranpo #ranpo #akutagawa ryuunosuke #akutagawa #oda sakunosuke #oda #tachihara michizou #tachihara #bungou stray dogs fluff #bsd fluff #bungou stray dogs crack #bsd crack #bungou stray dogs smau #bsd smau

[diaphragmjellyfish]

Told You So

A/N: Lots of people seemed to like my last Paul fic, and he’s my favorite Twilight character, so I thought I’d write another one! This could be considered a part 2 to I Have This Thing, but you don’t really have to read that one first. 

“How was physical therapy today, baby?” Paul asked for the 12th day in a row. Ever since you had finally told him about your vaginismus, he had been as involved as you would allow him to be in that part of your life. He was constantly checking up on you, supporting you, and being a shoulder to lean on when you had a bad session. Like today. 

“Not too great,” you responded. “I mean it wasn’t awful but I couldn’t keep it in for more than 5 minutes before I started cramping super bad.” 

“Aww, baby,” he cooed as he wrapped you up in a giant bear hug. “You know I’m so proud of how far you’ve come.”

You laughed lightly. Paul always cheered you up just by being here. “Thank you, Paul. It’s kind of frustrating, but more than that I’m just sore.” You had gotten comfortable with the idea that dilating would take time. There were good days and bad days, and you’d come to terms with that a long time ago. But sometimes, if your muscles were super tight or if you tried the next size too soon, you’d be left physically uncomfortable. That’s what was happening now. You guys were at a secluded beach for date night. You preferred more casual dates, where you could have privacy and be yourselves. With the whole wolf thing, you and Paul couldn’t really have super open conversations about your days in the middle of a fancy restaurant. 

“Sore? Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked, with a smirk and a hint of suggestion. Since you’d allowed Paul to start doing small things with you, like fingering, he’d become the cheeky hothead you’d always heard about. Constantly flirting with you, making little comments that made your cheeks grow hot. 

You gave him a light shove as he sat next to you on the blanket you’d laid out in the sand. “No. I don’t really feel like having anything else in me today,” you answered. 

“I don’t… have to go in,” he suggested as he looked at you nervously. Yes, he was a flirt. But he was still always careful to not cross the line or pressure you in any way. You looked at him questioningly. All you’d ever let him do was finger you. He’d tried just rubbing your clit before, but you found that that alone wasn’t enough to get you off. You needed both, and today, you’d settle for neither. 

“What if you let me eat you out?” 

You stopped at this, eyes wide. There was a reason you never asked him to do that before. Several guys had tried, but you never enjoyed it. It just felt like… nothing. There wasn’t enough pressure, enough feeling to get you anywhere close. You thought you just weren’t into that. You felt like all your friends went on and on about oral sex, but to you, it was just meh. You’d never let Paul do it before because you didn’t want him to feel bad when you wouldn’t like it. 

“Well, umm… “ at your hesitance, Paul was quick to back off. 

“We don’t have to. It was just a suggestion,” he seemed slightly disappointed, but did well to hide it. You knew him, though. 

“Paul, it’s not you. I just don’t really… like that.”

He looked at you like you had two heads. “You don’t like being eaten out,” he said bluntly, almost shocked. 

You shrugged your shoulders, preparing for the usual speech. ‘Oh, you’ve just never had a guy who knows what he’s doing try,’ they’d always say, only to try themselves with the same bland result. And sometimes, they’d get mad at you like it was your fault. Say you were broken. “Nope. Just not my thing,” you said shortly, getting ready to switch topics. Paul looked super confused. 

“Wait, wait. I’ve never met a girl who doesn’t like being eaten out before,” he scoffed. “You’ve probably just never had a guy who knows what he’s doing.” Whoop, there it is. 

“Paul, I love you, but every guy has said that exact line. And none of them have made me like it. It’s just not for me.” 

“Okay, okay. No pressure. I guess I’m just curious. What about it don’t you like?” he questioned. 

“I don’t know, it’s just never felt like anything. Like it just feels like a tongue, there’s no sensation, you know what I mean?” 

He nodded, staring out into the ocean in deep thought. “You don’t think if you coached me through it I could make it good?” 

“I mean… I don’t really know what I would even like. I don’t know how to coach you if I don’t know what’s gonna feel good,” you felt guilty, but Paul had helped you become more comfortable with boundaries, and you knew he wouldn’t be mad at you for saying no. 

“Damn,” he muttered with a laugh. You nodded your head in response. “Okay, well what if we went by feeling? If it feels like nothing, you can tell me and I’ll use some more pressure. If it’s not enough friction, let me know and I can go faster.” 

“You really want to try, huh?” you laughed. You trusted Paul completely. If he really wanted to eat you out, you would let him. “Just promise me your feelings won’t be hurt if I still don’t like it.” 

He brought a hand up to his chest, “Cross my heart, babe.” 

You exhaled a sigh. “Okay. Guess we should head back to the car then.” 

“Why? No one’s here,” he smirked. You looked around, and he was right. There was a huge cliff to one side of you, and several miles of sand to the other. No one was here. And the thought of doing something so dirty out where anyone could walk by and see, well it excited you. Your blush was evident, and it was all Paul needed. He reached around, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you in for a kiss. His other hand came up to cup your face, and as the kiss got more heated, you leaned back to lie on the blanket, pulling Paul on top of you. The arm that was around your shoulders came to rest next to your head, supporting his weight. Your own hands moved from around his neck down his chest, and under the thin t-shirt he was wearing, despite the chilly temperature. 

He sat up and all but ripped the shirt from his body, desperate to have his hands on you again. As he leaned back down to hover over you once more, he slid on hand under your shirt. Sure, it was summer, but you guys were in Washington. On the beach. At night. It was still pretty freaking cold out. 

“I’m keeping mine on, Cujo,” you laughed at his pout. 

“Oh, c’mon Princess, you know I’ll keep you warm.” At this, he dragged his lips down your jaw and to your neck, suckling at the skin. You breathed out a sigh and tilted your head to the opposite side, subtly arching your back. The hand that was under your shirt crept down between your legs. He stayed on top of your jeans and rubbed your inner thighs, grabbing lightly and putting pressure in the divot of your hip, between your leg and already damp pussy. Your hands carded through his hair, tugging lightly. He nipped at your neck as he popped the button on your pants, sliding the zipper down torturously slow. 

You let out a whimper, because at this point, he would normally be sliding his hand down your pants and a finger inside you. But that’s not what was happening tonight. His lips travelled from his neck, down to the top of your chest that was exposed from your shirt, and then down to your stomach. And lower, and lower. Once he reached the waistband of your pants, he sat up, kneeling between your legs. He grabbed your belt loops, pulling off your jeans, and then your underwear, and putting them in a neat pile on the side of the blanket, careful not to get sand all over them. The ocean breeze hit your hot core, and it was a strange sensation that made you shiver. 

“Cold?” he questioned, full of care and concern. 

“Yeah, so you better get down here and warm me up,” you smirked. His own smirk followed, and he leaned down. Instead of hovering over you, though, he brought his face down to your lower stomach once more, hooking your legs over his shoulders and bringing his hands up your sides to rest on your stomach, covering your skin with as much of his own as possible in an honest effort to make sure you weren’t cold. Even in sexy, sensual moments like this, Paul was still a sweetheart at his core. 

“Remember what I said about telling me how you feel. I want a full status report, Agent Y/L/N.” 

“Copy that, Detective Lahote,” you giggled back, bringing your hand up in a mock salute. 

He started kissing right under your belly button, nipping and sucking at the skin before soothing with his tongue. And then he trailed kisses a couple inches lower, repeating the same process. He did this over and over, taking his sweet time worshipping your skin, before he finally reached the soft skin just above your folds. He paused, and looked up at you with a savage grin. You could definitely say that you had never been this turned on before being eaten out before. 

Your hands were placed atop of his own on your stomach, gripping in anticipation. His chin dipped slightly, and he placed a soft kiss right on your clit. You felt the slight pressure of his lips, but not much else. 

He looked up at you, quirking his eyebrow in question. You shook your head lightly, a sad smile on your face. Instead of looking defeated, he looked determined. “How’d it feel?” 

“Not enough friction,” you answered.

Leaning back down, he licked a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, circling around a few times before ending in a kiss. Again, nothing. Well, it felt like a tongue, but it didn’t really feel  particularly good. Again, he looked up at you, and you began to feel nervous. You never want to make Paul feel like he isn’t good enough, and you worried that this situation might be doing just that. 

“Talk to me, Princess,” he ordered softly. 

“I… I don’t know. It just, doesn’t really feel like anything,” you responded softly. 

“That’s okay. I have a couple more ideas,” he responded, his confidence never failing. This time, when he leaned down, he flicked his tongue over your clit rapidly. And when he still got no reaction, he began to feel slightly worried. He talked a big game. What if he was just like all those other assholes that never got you off? In desperation, he brought your clit and the surrounding folds between his lips and sucked.  

You gasped, and sat up slightly. Oh. You weren’t expecting that. Paul smirked. 

“Good?” he asked, teasingly. 

“Yeah, good. Can you do that again, but a little… more?” you responded, huffing a light laugh. 

His face lowered once more, and he repeated the same action as before. You bit your lip, your hips involuntarily lifting up into his face. He kept up this sucking motion several more times until he finally got a moan out of you. Soft, but he heard it. And it excited him. 

He began to repeat the motion, sucking slightly harder, and playing with your clit with his tongue while he sucked it into his mouth. This had you crying out. He grabbed your hips roughly and pulled you closer to him. 

“Fuck, Paul!” you gasped, hands now gripping his hair. Your hips writhed under his face, and he had to clamp his hands down tighter over your stomach to keep you still. You’d never felt anything like this before. It was strange, different from fingers or dilators, but still good. 

And Paul knew, as every good lover knows, that when women are feeling good, Don’t. Change. A. Thing. So he kept up the same rhythm. Same pace. Same technique. Suck, lick, kiss. Suck, lick, kiss. For the next twenty-five minutes. You knew his jaw must be hurting by now, but every time you were about to protest, he would give an extra hard suck to your clit, shutting you up with your own moans. And you were closer than you’d ever been from oral before. You were right there on the edge. 

“Oh my God, don’t stop!” you moaned in a higher pitch than before, and Paul knew you were close. 30 seconds later, your whole body was shaking, euphoria washing through your veins and your mouth opened in a silent moan. When you came down, Paul’s lips were still on your clit, only more gently now. You had to pull him away by the hair when the sensations became too much. With labored breath, you whispered a “woah.” 

Paul’s only response was “Told you so.” 

“Yeah, you did,” you laughed, too high on the orgasm to worry about how out-of-control his ego would be after this. He continued placing soft kisses over your stomach, hands rubbing up and down your sides while you calmed down and caught your breath. “Sorry I took so long,” you finally added. 

“Hey,” he said sharply, though you knew he was messing around. “If you think for even a second that I didn’t enjoy every single minute of that, you’re crazy.” 

“Ok well it’s time for me to return the favor. Roll over, Wolfie,” you chided, sitting up on your elbows. 

“You already did,” at this, you looked at him confused. He looked down, cheeks turning slightly red. “I… need to change into a new pair of shorts.” You bust out laughing. It was a good night.

#paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #twilight #wolf pack #jared cameron #quil ateara #embry call #sam uley #jacob black #seth clearwater #edward cullen #werewolf #paul lahote smut #vaginismus #vaginismus fic

[drabbles-mc]

Wear Something Else

Angel Reyes x Reader

Request from Anon: I have a request for my baby boi Angel 🥺👉🏼👈🏼 one day the reader asks him to go to dinner with her and some friends since some of their boys will be there too. He says no, he’ll just be at the clubhouse with the guys. So, as the reader is getting dressed, Angel stops in and gives her the whole list of things to be careful for, watch her, call if she needs anything etc. when reader walks out in her dress (tight in all the right places, cleavage, slit just a tad too high) Angel tells her to change She refuses, telling him that she invited him out and he said no so now he has to deal with the consequences. While gone, reader texts Angel a few times, but to gets no reply. She is worried by the time she walks into her place only to see him sitting on her couch very mad. She gets angry about him not replying to her but he just stands and comes to her, stopping her mid rant with a hand around her throat. He says something like “I’m going to teach you a lesson in obedience” and fucks her hard until she remembers who she belongs to

Warnings: language, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, Angel being a jealous boy

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: Once I set about writing this I realized I’ve never really written a fic where one of the guys is really jealous and/or possessive. So sorry if it reads a little awkward at parts, it’s just not something I’m super versed with haha. Hope you enjoy! xo (Also I didn’t get super descriptive with the dress because everyone is comfortable with different things, so I left it kind of vague. It’s whatever y’all want it to be!)

Angel Taglist: @mayans-sauce @encounterthepast @helli4nthus @lilacyennefer @angelreyesgirl @everyhowlmarksthedead @starrynite7114 @rosieposie0624 @queenbeered​ @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​ @sincerelyasomebody​ @mijop​ @sadeyesgf​ @xladymacbethx​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @appropriate-writers-name​ @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​ @multiyfandomgirl40​ @sillygoose6969​ @beardburnsupersoldiers​ @louisianalady​ @gemini0410​ @paintballkid711​ @chibsytelford​ @yourwonkywriter​ @sesamepancakes​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ @plentyoffandoms​ @georgiaaintnopeach​ @twistnet​ @amandinesblogofstuff​ @garbinge​ @bucky-iss-bae​ @enjoy-the-destruction​

“You sure you don’t want to go out with us?” you asked him as you grabbed a towel so you could go and shower, “They picked a really good restaurant.”

He shook his head, “Nah, not this time. You go, have fun. Just let me know when you get there safe, alright?” he paused and you nodded, then he continued, “And drop me a text when you’re on your way home so I know you’re all okay. If anything happens—”

You cut him off, trying to bit back a smile, “If anything happens, call. Make sure I keep my pepper spray at the top of my purse, remember there’s the knife in my driver’s door if I need it,” you shook your head, “I know, baby. We do this every time I go somewhere. I got it down.”

He chuckled, walking over and wrapping you up in a hug that kept you tight against his chest, “I’m sorry, querida. Just wanna make sure you’re being safe out there.”

“Aren’t I always?” you gave him a light squeeze, “But not for nothing, you wouldn’t have to worry if you came with me.”

“I just—”

“Need your guy time,” you finished the sentence for him with a laugh, “I know. I’m just saying.”

He laughed, playfully shoving you towards the door to your bedroom, “Go shower.”

You couldn’t help but to laugh as you made your way out of the room. You really couldn’t give him too much attitude about not going with you—more often than not he was more than happy to go out with you and your friends.  It didn’t actually bother you that he didn’t want to go, but you still liked to give him a bit of a hard time about it just because.

You were sat in front of your mirror, still wrapped in your towel as you got started on your makeup. Angel poked his head into the room, and you could see the smile on his face through the reflection. You waited for a moment to see if he was going to say anything, but when he didn’t, you went back to your routine. A few minutes later you looked up again and he was gone.

The next time you saw him, you were sitting on your bed strapping your heels on. He reappeared in the doorway, eyes growing wide as he looked at you. You flashed him a smile as you fumbled with the tiny buckle on your shoes. He stepped completely into the room, towering over you as he walked over to the bed.

“Yea?” you stood up, even with heels on still not quite coming eye-to-eye with him.

“This what you’re wearing?” he looked you up and down.

You laughed, “Um…yes? Why?”

“The restaurant you’re going to happen to have a catwalk with a silver pole at the end of it or nah?”

You shook your head, not able to believe that you were really about to have this conversation with him, “Angel, don’t be ridiculous.”

“You can’t wear this shit to dinner with your friends,” his fingers trailed lightly along the fabric of your dress, tugging down lightly on the bottom hem as if that was going to make it longer somehow.

You cocked one eyebrow, “Why not? I look good.”

“Yea, and you’re not going anywhere by yourself looking this good,” he shook his head as his eyes continued to rake over your body, the pads of his fingers finding their way to the straps of your dress and fussing with them.

You gently pushed his hands off of you, “You declined the invite, baby. I offered for you to come with me. But you didn’t want to, and that’s fine. I’m not going to give up on a cute outfit just because you don’t wanna be there to play bouncer.”

He sucked his teeth, “C’mon, you got a million other things to wear, Y/N. Why can’t you just wear something else this once?”

You took a small step back, “Because I don’t want to.”

His frustration began to show on his face as he sighed, “You really doin’ this?”

You rolled your eyes, “Doin’ this?” you mocked him with a slight shake of your head, “Doing what?”

“Don’t make a thing out of this, Y/N.”

The way he said your name made you want to wear the dress everywhere without him to just frustrate him more. Every now and then his jealous streak would get a little out of control, and it looked like it was going to be one of those nights.

“I’m not the one making a thing out of anything. Maybe now you’ll learn that there’s consequences to your actions,” you carefully stepped around him so you could get out of your room.

Your heels clicked against the hardwood floors of your house as you made your way towards the door. You tried to pretend that you didn’t hear his heavy footsteps close behind you, his boots thudding loudly with every step. Without turning to look back at him you swiped up your purse and continued to make your way to the door. Just as your hand landed on the handle to the door, Angel reached out and put his hand on your shoulder.

You spun around to face him, “I’ll let you know when I get to the restaurant,” your tone was firm, but you still stood up onto your toes to place a kiss on his cheek, “I love you. Have fun with the guys.”

He mumbled out something that sounded like I love you too, but other than that he didn’t say anything as you took off out the door. You let out a sigh as you sat down in your car. Part of you wouldn’t have been surprised if Angel came bursting out the door behind you, but he didn’t. With a slight shake of your head, you turned the car on and made your way to dinner.

You had texted Angel when you got to the restaurant safely, and he replied with a very short, “Ok” and nothing more. You had sent him a couple other texts throughout the night just to keep him in the loop, the same way the two of you usually did when you were off with your own individual plans, but it was radio silence from him. Even when you texted to let him know that the small group of you were going to hit a bar for a quick drink after dinner, he didn’t say anything. Part of you wondered if he even had his phone on at all, or if he was just really dedicated to ignoring you in particular.

When you finally pulled back into your driveway, the house looked the same as when you left it. The lights in the living room and kitchen were on—you could see the glow through the thing curtains covering the window. You got out of the car and locked it, hesitantly making your way up to the door. It was locked, which led you to assume that Angel had left and come back at some point since you didn’t lock it behind you when you left.

When you walked inside, you were met with the quiet noise of the television playing in the living room. You looked over and saw Angel lounging on the couch, his expression twisted into a frown as his left his eyes glued to the TV. You had the overwhelming feeling that you were the reason behind that look. The part of you that hated arguing wanted to just apologize, but the part of you that refused to say you were wrong when you weren’t won out instead.

“You even make it to the clubhouse?” you asked, very mindful of your tone.

He nodded, still not looking at you, “Yea.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, fighting to keep your face neutral, “Well, good to know now I guess. Since I didn’t hear anything from you all fucking night.”

His eyes flicked over to you, “What?”

The intensity of his stare almost made you want to back down, but it was too late for that now, “You didn’t say shit to me all night, Angel. I didn’t even know if you left. I figured you shut off your fucking phone,” you shook your head, “Should’ve known you were just ignoring me. I do one thing you don’t like and—”

The words got caught in your throat as Angel stood up off the couch and crossed the room to you quicker than you thought was possible. He stared down at you, anger alight in his eyes, “You really tryna act surprised right now?” he stepped in closer to you as you slowly backed away from him, “Like you’re not the one in the wrong here?”

“I’m not!”

He clicked his tongue, “You don’t really believe that.”

Your voice sounded certain despite the shaky feeling in your legs, “I do. It’s not my fault that you got all bent out of shape over a damn dress,” you shook your head, “You don’t get to always just tell me what to do, you know. You’re not my fu—”

He stopped you mid-sentence as his hand landed on the side of your neck. His thumb tilted your chin up as the rest of his fingers gripped onto the back of your neck. You thought that he was about to yell, but his voice was low and harsh, “I’m not your what? Hm?” he leaned so his face was mere centimeters away from yours, “You gotta learn how to fucking listen.”

You knew you were about five seconds away from your legs giving out underneath you, but you were never one to back down from anyone, not even Angel, “Or what?”

His lips curled into a smirk as he quickly crouched down and lifted you up, slinging you over his shoulder with ease. It was a move he’d done a million times before, but there was usually laughter filling the house when he did do. His fingertips dug into your thighs, and you knew that you were in for it as he made his way to the bedroom.

He tossed you onto the bed before stripping off his shirt and undoing his belt. All you could do was lie back and watch him, nervous and excited about what was about to happen. He looked over at you, and you could see the darkness swirling around in his eyes. He walked over, towering over you as you sat at the edge of the bed. His hand found its way to your throat once more and he gave it a light squeeze.

You opened your mouth to say something and he shook his head, cutting you off, “Don’t.” You stopped, deciding that for once you wouldn’t challenge him. He let go of your throat and stepped back slightly, “Stand up.”

You did as he asked, body trembling slightly underneath the weight of his gaze. He stepped in close to you, reaching around behind you and sliding the zipper down of your dress, all while not taking his eyes off of yours. He slid the straps down off of your shoulders and with one firm yank, the dress pooled in a pile on the floor. He guided you backwards so that you were sitting on the edge of the bed before bending down and picking up the pile of fabric on the floor. He held it in his hands for a moment before throwing it to the opposite side of the room, clearly glad to have it far away from the both of you.

Angel nodded towards the headboard of the bed and you quickly moved away from the edge. He dropped his jeans and in a matter of seconds was climbing on top of you. His movements were rough, harsh as his hands traveled over your entire body, the pressure pushing you farther into the mattress.

He brought his face close to yours, but when you leaned up to try and kiss him he grabbed your neck, pushing you back against the pillow. Your eyes went wide but you didn’t say anything. He shook his head, “You don’t get to have that now.”

You nodded your head slightly, unable to form any words. His free hand slid down your body, fingers hooking around the waistband of your underwear. With a strong flick of his wrist he ripped them off of you. You fought the impulse to roll your eyes—he knew you hated when he did that but you supposed that that was the point. This was, at the core of it, a punishment, so you bit your tongue.

The feelings of annoyance began to quickly disappear as his hand strayed between your legs. You went to whimper but his grip on your throat tightened. You bit down on your bottom lip, shutting your eyes tight as he slowly slid his fingers into you.

He leaned in and placed his lips right next to your ear, his voice hardly a whisper, “How’m I supposed to believe that you’re mad at me when you’re this fuckin’ wet, hm?”

You shuddered as his fingers curled inside you, unable to think a coherent thought, let alone form a sentence. His movements got faster and you felt your entire body begin to tremble. His jealousy was not your favorite quality but you’d be lying if you tried to say that it didn’t have its benefits.

He could feel you tightening around his fingers and a smirk spread across his face, “You gonna cum for me, Y/N?”

Unable to speak, you simply nodded. But, before you could get any release, he let go of your throat and pulled his fingers out of you. He saw the disappointment on your face and shook his head, “No you’re not. Not yet.”

“Angel, pl—”

“No. You lost the privilege of making those decisions,” he gripped onto your hips, “Flip over.”

Even if you wanted to hesitate, you wouldn’t have been able to. Angel’s fingers dug into your hips, turning you over.  He pulled you back towards him, his hand running along your back, your ass, and between your legs. You whined and he shushed you, causing you to freeze up for a moment.

“I don’t want to hear it, querida,” his voice wasn’t as harsh as it had been, but you could still hear the tension in it, “You did this to yourself.”

He slowly pushed into you with a moan and your body instantly began to shake. His hands continued to roam and grab you as he positioned himself inside you, your whole body feeling like it was on fire. You shut your eyes tight and pushed back against him and you heard him curse under his breath.

He started to thrust into you and you bit down hard on your lips to contain your moans. You knew that the second you made a sound he would stop. The house was silent except for the sounds of his grunting and your bodies connecting. You had a death-grip on the blanket as you tried to keep yourself grounded.

Angel felt the way that your body once again began to tighten around him and he slowed his pace down to a painfully slow rhythm. Unable to stop yourself, you whined. He stilled instantly, “What was that?”

You froze, not wanting to say anything for fear of making it worse.

“Hey,” he slapped your ass and you bit back a whimper, “I asked you somethin’. What was that?”

“Nothing,” your voice was hardly audible.

You heard him let out a laugh as he reached forward, hand wrapping around your neck as he pulled you up against him, “You lying to me?”

You shook your head, “N-no.”

His chest vibrated against your back as he laughed. His hand that wasn’t wrapped around your throat slid across your stomach and landed in between your legs. Your lip was about to bleed from how hard you were biting it to fight back all the sounds you wanted to utter. He nipped at the side of your neck and you leaned your head back against him.

“You like doing this?” his finger started to rub light, slow circles against your clit, “Is making me mad fun for you?”

“Angel,” you reached back and placed a hand on the side of his face, “it’s not—”

He stopped his hand, “Don’t lie to me.”

You turned your head and placed a light, lazy kiss on his neck, “You know I love you.”

He let out a quiet hum of approval, letting himself be distracted by you as his fingers went back to work, “You’re all mine?”

“Of course,” your voice was raspy as you tried to focus on everything that was happening.

“Say it,” he gave your throat a squeeze.

“I’m yours,” you whispered.

“That’s right,” he took his hand off of your neck and pushed you back down so you were back on all fours.

Both hands gripped tightly onto your hips as he began to thrust into you, pushing you farther and farther into the mattress. You moaned and this time it didn’t cause him to stop. The way his nails dug into your skin stung, but you didn’t mind it. You heard him cursing under his breath as he continued to slam into you, taking out a whole night’s worth of frustration out of you.

“I’m gonna cum,” you said it, but you knew that he already knew that.

Something resembling a laugh slipped past his lips, but he didn’t respond other than picking up his pace even more. You felt yourself going over the edge and you were quickly reduced to a trembling mess, Angel not relenting in the slightest as he fucked you through your orgasm. You could tell by the way his grip was slipping that he wasn’t far behind you. His hand landed on your back, pushing you down into the mattress as he finished inside you with a moan.

He didn’t pull out of you right away, instead he gently ran his hands up and down your thighs and back. You wanted to say something, but your mind was still reeling. He leaned forward, placing a trail of kisses on your spine that made you break out in goosebumps.

After he had a minute to catch his breath, he slowly pulled out of you, lying down next to you and gently pulling you against him. You reached forward and pushed his hair out of his face, wiping away a few beads of sweat in the process.

“Feel better?” there was a tired smile on your face.

He chuckled, “Maybe a little.”

You trailed your fingers through his beard, “I still think it was a cute dress.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes, not having the energy to argue as he pulled your face against his chest, “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”

You laughed as his heartbeat thudded against your cheek, “But you love me.”

“But I love you.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #angel reyes #angel reyes x you #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes fanfic #angel reyes smut #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

[fivelakesinwriting]

heyy!! love everything you write and would love to do this off anon but je suis shy 🤚 idk if you're taking requests for pope and i havent really thought this through but perhaps,, reader's kinda doing shit in school so pope offers to help (or she asks him to help idk) but she's pretty down bad since they barely get to spend time alone together so, uh, minimal studying ends up happening...

sorry for the crappy explanation but your last pop fic threw me for a loop 🙃

You are so sweet - do not have to be shy! I am always taking requests for our guy Pope. Thank you so much. You are the loveliest xoxo

Author's Notes: All characters are 18+ If I had a boyfriend like Pope I probably would have done better on my academics..maybe..If this was your request, I hope you love it !

Warnings: Sexual references - sexual innuendos *(Not full smut, but clothes are removed, and I suppose I eluded to unprotected sex - so be careful out there, your choice how!! )

Requested? YES! Requests for OBX are OPEN!

*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo

Pope tried not to get into his own head too much, or let JJ get into his head too much, when she had asked him over that night to help her study for an upcoming test.

"Dude. You know what that means, right? Come over and 'study'?"

His best friend's words rang in his head as he pedaled his bike through the Cut towards his new girlfriend's house. He was expecting nothing, and his book-bag was full of all the necessary notebooks and textbooks to help her prepare for his English exam this coming Thursday.

Pope knocked on the door of the small house and waited for a few minutes before he let himself in. Her parents weren't home, both of them pulling double shifts that day and her being an only child gave them more than enough time to be alone and study.

"You're not gonna study, dude."

Pope shook his head as JJ's words invaded his thoughts once more, then made his way through the short hallway at the front of the house and to the back towards her bedroom. He knocked on the door frame of her bedroom when he saw her pace the floor of her room, mumbling to herself.

"Hey. I'm here." He smiled softly as he placed his bag down on the floor by the doorway and walked in slowly.

"Pope. Thank, God." She breathed out at the sight of him. She walked over to him quickly and tossed her arms around his neck, pressed up on her toes to be closer to his height.

"Nervous?" He asked while he wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder while he let her squeeze her as tightly as she could.

"Yes."

"Don't be. I have the best system for studying, and it's even helped JJ a time a two when he's actually wanted to study. So, you'll be fine. Better than fine." Pope stated firmly as he pulled out of her tight grip then reached back to grab his book bag for his study supplies that he brought with him.

"You're so sweet for helping me, Pope." She breathed out as she walked over to the edge of the bed and sat down, running her hands through her hair.

"Of course. You know I'm here for you." Pope smiled softly as he walked over to the edge of the bed, sitting next to her. He placed his notebooks on his lap and handed her his textbook, marked with sticky notes and highlighted to perfection.

They studied for a full 45 minutes before her impatience and pure frustration with the subject got the best of her. She let out a loud groan, taking the book and tossing it across the room before she flopped back on the bed.

"I'm never going to get it right." She sighed heavily as she tossed her forearms over her face. She always felt so inferior when it came to books and smarts compared to Pope. He was brilliant, and he tried to hard to help her understand her subjects.

"It's alright. You will. Sometimes you need to study in little increments as opposed to all at once. We can take a break." Pope smiled softly as he removed the books from her lap, and his own, then placed them on the floor by the edge of the bed.

Pope laid back on the bed beside her, his hands respectfully on his stomach as he looked over at his girlfriend who was still in the throes of an academic meltdown.

"You're smarter than you think you are. You put too much pressure on yourself." Pope stated softly, a small smile on his face as she finally pulled her arms off her pretty face and looked over at him.

"Not as smart as you." She whispered as she reached a hand over and began to fiddle with the buttons of his shirt. She shifted her body so she laid on her side, propped up on one arm as she began to slowly unbutton his shirt.

"I - uh - I don't know if I would say that. You're really smart, and pretty. And like, really funny. Did I mention pretty? Because you're beautiful." Pope stammered as he looked from her face to her fingers as they pulled at the final button of his shirt.

"You've mentioned it a time or two." She nodded as she turned her body to straddle his hips, her hands pressed to his chest for leverage as she sat up straight.

"What are you doing?" Pope inquired softly as he sat upright, his hands on her hips as he let her wrap her arms around his neck.

"Study break?" She smiled as she began to push his shirt off of his shoulders, down to his elbows.

Pope let go of her hips in favour of shaking his hands out behind him, his shirt sliding off arms. He groaned when his girlfriend pressed her lips to his firmly, knocking him to his back again. Pope let out a long exhale through his nostrils as she pressed a firm kiss to his lips, his hands making their way to her backside to keep her in place on top of him.

"Your parents - " Pope breathed out as she began to kiss down his neck, her fingers trailing down his abdomen towards the button of his shorts.

"Mom is on late shift at the hospital, and my dad is driving a truck to Fortworth this week." She smiled into the crease of his neck as she felt him squeeze her backside over her shorts.

"Texas?" Pope asked with a heavy breath, his fingertips creeping up the back of her shirt.

"Long-haul trucker. You know that." She replied as she sat up, pulling her shirt over head.

"So, we're alone." Pope stated with his hands firmly on her hips while his eyes scanned over her chest in a bright yellow pushup bra.

"For a long time." She smiled with a nod, thumbing open the button of his shorts and then waiting. The tension between them thickened, both of them waiting for other to make the first move. They had been together before, more than a handful of times, but each time felt like the first time. That shortened breath, quick heartbeat. The excited nervousness was tangible.

"Can I?" Pope questioned as he reached his fingertips up to brush over the clasp of her bra. He sat up to be closer to her, feeling almost cold without her next to him.

"Of course you can." She nodded as she placed her hands on his shoulders, her forehead against his as he unhooked her bra and slid the straps down her shoulders.

"You're so beautiful." Pope breathed out while he pulled her bra off her arms and tossed it off the edge of the bed, his hands surging forward to cup her breasts.

"Thank you." She shivered at the feeling of his warm palms on her skin, her left hand at the nape of his neck while the other held herself steady on his shoulder.

Pope leaned forward to press a kiss to her collarbone, then began to press kiss after kiss along her chest as he gently kneaded her breasts, his breath heavy as she rocked her hips back and forth on top of him.

"Take off your pants, Pope." She whispered as she pulled her nails gently over his shoulders, not quite scratching him like she usually did, but close.

With her request ringing in his ears, Pope flipped his girlfriend onto her back on the bed and shimmied out of his shorts leaving him only in his briefs. He grabbed hold of her shorts and tugged them down her legs, along with her underwear, in one swoop. He dropped to his forearms above her again, his nose brushing over hers as he laid between her parted thighs.

"Come here, baby." She smiled as she pushed the waistband of his briefs down over his backside, pressing the heels of her feet under his backside to bring him right against her.

"You feel good." Pope groaned as he pressed his tip against her, his head dropped down to her forehead as he held himself up on his forearms.

"You're not even inside of me yet, Pope." She laughed breathlessly while she ran her hands down his back.

"Don't need to be. You're perfect." Pope whispered as he reached a hand between them to guide himself inside of her.

As Pope steadied himself, ready to settle inside of his love a loud gasp and a snicker echoed throughout the once otherwise quiet home.

"No, just leave it and go. They didn't see us. Move, JJ!"

"Wait, wait. I wanna see!"

"Guys, are you seriously here right now?" Pope groaned as his hips dropped down to his girlfriend's, his hand removed from between them to run over his face.

"I'm not looking. I just wanted to drop off an exam prep I had to help you guys out. Seriously!" Kiara yelled as she ran down the hallway with her hands over her eyes.

JJ stood in the doorway with his hands in his pockets and a wide grin on his face. He raised his eyebrows at his friend before he turned on his heel, closing the door over behind him.

"Told you that you wouldn't study, Pope!"

Hotties:

@babeyglo @starkey-babie @sodasback @fashion-fasting @barrysjumpsuit @beauvibaby @plutooryectors @rottenstyx @pogueslandia @soph0864 @whcclxr

*tag list is open, please let me know if I forgot you or you would like to be added/removed from particular posts. I've removed the people that don't pre-populate :(

Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! Thank you so much xoxo

Requests for OBX ARE OPEN!

#outer banks pope #pope heyward fic #pope heyward imagine #pope heyward #pope heyward fluff #pope heyward obx #outer banks imagines #outer banks requests #outer banks fic #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx request #obx imagine #obx smut #obx pope

[likeshipsonthesea]

I don’t know if you take requests for nurseydex fics... but if you do the song “omg did she call him baby” by Beth McCarthy screams a heartbroken Nursey when Dex has a girlfriend

i like really can’t do genuine heartbreak but i CAN do angst that ends happy, so here’s my best shot :)

Nursey’s got a red Solo cup in one hand and a plastic champagne flute in the other and it’s sometime after three but before five and he is definitely not thinking about her or him or them together when he looks up between one sip and another to see the telltale blue hair reflecting the murky spotlights of the basement.

Nursey squints. He could be making things up--his brain is nice like that-- but he doesn’t think he’s imagining things. She’s got very distinctive hair, Dex’s--girlfriend. It’d been rather disappointing, actually, the blue hair. The whole thing had been easier to deal with when he’d been picturing some light-haired brunette going for an economics degree who smiled like a mom at soccer practice. Someone who Nursey could reasonably dislike on grounds of, like, predictability.

But no, Dex had to bring home a blue-haired physics major with a nose ring and good taste in music and the ability to out-argue Shitty while polishing off Bitty’s pie, i.e. perfect. Even Lardo couldn’t pretend like she wasn’t awesome for Nursey’s sake. Even Nursey can’t pretend like Amanda isn’t awesome for his own sake. She’s just so--so--

Nursey squints.

So-- making out with some random girl in a blouse at a frat party.

What the fuck.

Nursey is about two margaritas and three years too deep to be dealing with the emotional ramifications of catching the girlfriend of his best friend (who he’s also kind of sort of possibly maybe totally in love with) macking on some consultant for Goldman Sachs or some shit in the basement of arguably one of the worst frats at Samwell. This one doesn’t even have good music, Nursey’s only here to get drunk without the possibility of Dex calling Nursey Patrol and helping Nursey up the stairs and saying nothing about the poetry Nursey spills or the way his hands linger.

(Fuck does Nursey hate Nursey Patrol, fuck does he hate how much he loves it.)

Nursey downs the rest of the champagne flute--which was probably mostly orange juice at this point anyway-- and hands the red Solo cup to a freshman gearing himself up to talk to a cute boy a few feet away and then Nursey gets the fuck out of dodge. He manages to get a better look at the corporate recruiter Amanda is cheating on Dex with (and really, if you’re going to cheat on Dex, you’re really going to pick a chick in a blouse that probably has opinions on the stock market???) and if he hadn’t been sure before, the distinctive tattoo on Amanda’s shoulder proves that it’s really her.

(“Tattoos? Tattoos? I have tattoos.” “I know you do, Nurse.” “They’re really nice tattoos.” “I know they are, Nurse.”)

Emerging from the basement and then the frat house itself is instantly sobering. The chill from winter hasn’t quite left the air at night and Nursey wraps his arms around himself and doesn’t think about how Dex chirped him about not wearing a coat before he’d left. The frat isn’t far away from the Haus, thank god, but it is slightly farther when he turns left instead of right and then has to a backtrack a bit, but he still gets back in under ten minutes and he can still feel his hands, so overall, a win.

Attempting to get into the Haus quietly is a lost cause, given its one thousand year old floor and the fact that a ladybug could fart in the kitchen and wake up the guys in the attic. Still, Nursey gives it the good college try, which is why he’s creeping ridiculously through the living room when the light turns on suddenly and he screams, much to the amusement of Dex, standing in the kitchen doorway.

“Fuck, dude, what the fuck.”

Dex just smirks in that horribly attractive way of his. “How was the Psi-U basement?”

Nursey thinks of blue hair, washed out in the lights, Amanda’s hand on that girl’s cheek, the way Dex smiles when he’s around her. “Fine,” Nursey says, swaying.

The amusement falters and Nursey wishes he could figure out a way to keep the smile on Dex’s face the way Amanda does. Dex takes a step closer. “Are you alright?”

Nursey shakes his head violently and takes a step back, a step farther away. This is the part where he says yes, yes of course Dexy-darling, I’m right as rain, what about you? This is the part where Dex rolls his eyes and loops his arm around Nursey’s waist, his warm side pressed into Nursey’s. The part where they go upstairs, where Nursey writes his best poetry that he’s too embarrassed to write down when he’s sober, where Dex tells him to sleep well and lingers outside the doorway long enough for Nursey’s breathing to slow and then the floor creaks and Nursey knows he’s gone and wishes he’d held on just a little bit longer--

“Nursey, what’s wrong?”

Nursey shakes his head again. He means to say nothing, he means to say, I’m going to bed, he means to-- “Amanda, she--”

The concern turns to alarm. Why can’t Nursey ever make it better? “Is she alright? Did you see her? Is she okay?”

Nursey shakes his head again. He can’t seem to stop doing that. “She’s fine, she--she--” He swallows, and it’s sticky, cloying, citrusy and sweet on the back of his tongue. “She--there was this girl, she-- Amanda, she--”

Dex won’t stop frowning, concern knitting his eyebrows together with three short wrinkles, and Nursey has wanted to smooth them out with his fingertips every time he sees them since sophomore year, and he shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be telling Dex this while he’s drunk, shouldn’t be telling Dex this at all, but he’s Nursey’s friend first and Nursey has to believe he’d tell Dex regardless of the love thing, he must--

“She was kissing some girl. In the Psi-U basement.”

The wrinkles smooth out. The amusement returns. Nursey--he can’t make sense of it over the ringing in his ears. Why is Dex smiling? Did--did Nursey do that?

“Did she look like a lawyer?” he asks, and at Nursey’s confusion clarifies, “The girl Amanda was kissing. Did she look like a lawyer?” Nursey nods dumbly. Dex’s smile only grows. Nursey is so, so confused and also more in love than he’s ever been. “Finally. I just won fifty bucks.”

What the fuck. “What the fuck.”

Dex laughs--laughs. “The girl’s name is Tammy. She graduated last year and moved to Boston. Amanda’s been in love with her forever, and I bet her that she’d get with Tammy before I--” Flush appears high on Dex’s cheeks, the soft pink one that means embarrassment and Nursey imagines would taste like cherry pie against his lips.

Nursey is--still quite a bit drunk. He needs--clarification. “You--you bet your girlfriend that she would get with her friend at a frat party?”

Dex’s nose scrunches up in Nursey’s favorite way--the same way it does when he’s trying to write humanities essays, the reason Nursey always says yes when Dex asks for help. “Girlfriend? Did you think Amanda was my girlfriend?”

Nursey remembers the start, hearing about Amanda every other day, then every day, then it was, sorry I can’t come, I’m meeting Amanda at-- and then one day at Annie’s, a girl with blue hair and a sharp grin yelled Babe! from across the room and planted a kiss on Dex’s cheek, her hand lingering on his shoulder, sipping from his coffee cup, getting him to smile like that--

“Well, yeah.” Nursey’s head is spinning and, for the first time tonight, not from the gin. “Is she--is she not?”

“Oh God, no, she’s so fucking gay, dude.” Laughter twinkles in Dex’s eyes. Nursey is drunker than he’s been since freshmen year of high school when Shitty snuck in some of his dad’s hard liquor and the janitors found them on the roof singing Disney songs at the moon. Dex’s girlfriend is gay. Dex’s girlfriend isn’t his girlfriend. Dex is--is smiling at him like he smiles at his girlfriend who isn’t his girlfriend.

“Oh,” Nursey says, dazed, “chill.”

“Oh wow,” Dex grins, leaning into the doorframe, “I can’t believe you thought--and you thought telling me my girlfriend was cheating on me at 3am while shit-drunk was a good idea?”

Nursey says, “Hey, honesty is important, and I’m not--” He stops. He remembers something. He squints. “Wait. If you bet 50 bucks on Amanda getting with Tammy, who did Amanda bet you would get with?”

The cherry pie blush is back. Nursey takes an absent-minded step forward. The room feels so much lighter now that Dex’s girlfriend isn’t cheating on him. The distance between them feels so much sillier now that Dex doesn’t have a girlfriend.

“Ah, well.” Dex rubs at the back of his neck, all country bumpkin sheepish to ask his sweetheart to the dance, and--and--

“I’m the sweetheart,” Nursey realizes with the kind of crystal clarity only afforded by the most copious amounts of alcohol.

Dex’s eyebrows furrow, those sweet little wrinkles appearing between them, and Nursey takes two long strides forward and presses his thumb into them. Dex goes cross-eyed trying to watch, but moves his eyes to meet Nursey’s after a moment.

Nursey grins, likely a bit sloppy from the gin, but he can’t find it in himself to care at the moment. “I’m the sweetheart,” he repeats, beaming.

Dex tries to repress the smile at his lips. “You’re not a sweetheart.”

“Yes I am,” Nursey sings, listing forwards. “You like me.”

“You’re an asshole.” Dex’s smile grows. Nursey watches its progress and sways.

“They’re not mutually exclusive,” he says, tracking the pink lips as they spread, revealing teeth and--and tongue and--

“I hate that you can still say mutually exclusive when you’re this drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm. See, I’ll prove it.”

“How do you plan on--”

If Dex’s mouth weren’t so preoccupied, he might say that the taste on Nursey’s tongue is a good indication that he is in fact fairly tipsy, but as it is--well. He’s got other things to do.

(Amanda asserts that they tied since it happened on the same night and only pays $25. Tammy throws in five more and a condom and they call it even. Nursey kisses away Dex’s protest and pockets the condom, much to Amanda’s amusement. Turns out, she’s even cooler when she isn’t dating the love of Nursey’s life.)

#nurseydex #dexnursey #check please #derek nurse #nursey #dex #william poindexter #my writing #sort of fic #ficlet #i wrote this instead of an essay #bc i make good decisions #also sorry it's like almost not at all based on the song #i don't do heartbreak well #i can do angst with a happy ending #or even jealousy #but no heartbreak #also also i am rather tipsy atm #so if there are any typos #no there aren't #cool? #cool

[waka-chan-out]

the usually outspoken akiteru became shy and oddly quiet during your date — the only thing on his mind was how badly he wanted mommy to make him feel good. as lewd as that thought was, it was equally embarrassing. because how exactly was he gonna tell you that the running joke made him hard when you say it.

he would avoid your gaze the whole time you were out and if you caught his eyes halfway through his sentence, he would suddenly forget his words and stammer, cheeks turning deep red.

not this giving me butterflies !! shskdbd. now i gotta write it.

akiteru couldn’t. think. he knew you were talking. of course you were, because he wasn’t. he couldn’t. all he could do was stare pointedly at his food, pretending he didn’t feel the toe of your shoe dragging up and down his ankle. he didn’t notice the way your lips wrapped around your straw as you took a sip. he didn’t pay attention the way you looked at him like you owned him, the way you ordered his food for him and let him have a bite of yours when it finally arrived.

he most definitely wasn’t thinking about earlier, when your lips had curled around the words “let mommy help” as you held him firmly by his tie, looping it around as he desperately tried to make sense of this new feeling. it was a joke, right? it had always been a joke. then why did his stomach plummet into his shoes this time? was it the way you said it? or the word itself? or was it just that you looked so good, of course the sound of that word turned him on?

that had to be it. it couldn’t be anything else. this had been going on for so long, what could it be besides the situation?

you set down your glass and stood from your chair. you rounded the table and leaned down to kiss his cheek.

“mommy’ll be right back.”

akiteru shuddered as you walked away. oh, fuck.

he stood up so violently from the table it shook his silverware and startled the neighboring tables. he held up a hand in apology and walked in a panic to the bathrooms.

he shoved open the door to find that — thank god — he was alone. he splashed cold water on his face and stared at his reflection as it dripped away. it was definitely the word that had set him off. what a ridiculous thing to get so riled up over. he shook his head and splashed his face again, spilling some down the front of his shirt. as he moved to wipe it off, he stopped. fuck. why was he hard again?

he squeezed his eyes shut, determined to make the problem go away on its own.

think of your old volleyball coach. think of that time you had to practice serves until nearly ten o’clock because your teammates lost the game. think of your boss. think of —

let mommy help.

mommy’ll be right back.

please, mommy. let me come.

he nearly jumped as the last thought entered his mind. jesus. that one was new.

he looked down. well. none of that had helped.

there was no way he could go back out into a crowded restaurant with a tent in his pants. his usual thoughts weren’t working, so what the fuck was there to do? he glanced at the bathroom stalls. no cracks in the doors. no way to see feet. jesus. was he doing this?

fuck it. akiteru rushed to the nearest stall and undid his belt and slacks as quickly as he could. he felt a little guilty about this, but only a little. as he wrapped his hand around his cock he tensed. god. he was hard. he tried to work himself into a quick pace, hoping the thoughts wouldn’t linger as he got himself off.

please, mommy. let me come.

there it was again. that awful, lewd, ridiculous thought. he tried to chase it off, thinking about the last time he made you come undone beneath him, thighs shaking as he kissed your neck and whispered sweet things in your ear.

god, that wasn’t working at all. his options were running thin.

please, mommy. let me come.

he had to get back to the table soon. if he wanted that to happen, he was just going to have to let his imagination carry him wherever it needed to go.

okay. he leaned into the thought. please, mommy. let me come. a firm hand around his cock, pumping him as a smile spread across your face. what a good boy, teru. my good boy. you want to come? a furious nod. then beg, baby. a whine, followed by a choked out please. please, mommy, i’ll do anything. it’s so good. a short laugh, followed by a quickening hand. fine, teru. why don’t you come for me?

“fuck.” the harsh word was leaving his lips before he could quiet it, echoing around the small bathroom. he spilled over his hand, remarkably avoiding dirtying his clothes. he came so suddenly that he didn’t have time to brace himself for it. he stood there panting for a moment, feeling dizzyingly satisfied but absolutely mortified. how was he supposed to walk back out to you and pretend nothing was wrong?

he tucked himself back into his slacks, furiously scrubbed his hands, and checked his hair. did he look like he just jacked off in a bathroom? probably. would it be obvious to other people? probably not.

he took a deep breath and shoved open the doors, trying to remember how humans walked as he returned to your table.

“where’ve you been?” you asked, an amused smile pulling at your lips. he could feel his face heating up already.

“nothing. i mean, no. i mean—” he put his head in his hands. “i’m fine. just. bathroom. sorry.”

you raised your eyebrows and laughed.

“wanna talk about it?”

“nope.”

you narrowed your eyes at him as he tried very hard not to fidget.

“alright,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “i guess i’ll coax it out of you when we get home.”

akiteru looked anywhere but at your hands. shit. he was in trouble.

———————————————————————

———————————————————————

this is kinda a real fic so i guess i’ll add my tag list lmao

tag list: @ohno-otome @curapiikt @antiqueremains @stationery-store @tanzaniiite @imbearlythere

want to be added? send me an ask!

#hahahahah i guess i’m an akiteru blog now #what the fuck #my brain is about to tip out of my skull #i also apologize for this all being lowercase because i didn’t mean for it to be this long #🧡..leanne #akiteru smut #akiteru x reader #tsukishima akiteru smut #tsukishima akiteru x reader #haikyuu smut #cw mommy kink #💌..h word w meg

[bitch-for-bo]

Aone Takanobu is the best thing to ever happen to you (chubby reader)

All of my works are also available on AO3, under the name idkyo. I write Haikyuu x chubby reader nsfw for chubby simps like myself. If you have any other fics or head-cannons that you’d like to see between a character and chubby reader, lmk!

ENJOY!!!

Also, ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED!!!!!!!! SERIOUSLY

“Taka” you breathed out, feeling his hands snake around your waist as he crawled in the bed to join you. You must’ve been sleeping when he came in the door. In fact, you hadn’t even heard him take a shower or change out of his work clothes. The only reason you knew he had was the clean smell of soap wafting into your nose as he spooned his body around yours. It didn’t surprise you that you hadn’t heard him come in or change his clothes though, ever since you’d met him he’d been more on the quiet side. Not only personality wise though, you swore that he was some sort of ninja sometimes, being able to sneak up on you as you made dinner or as the two of you grocery shopped. It was crazy how such a big guy like Takanobu was quiet as a mouse.

“My love.” He sighed, his low voice barely audible as he let out a content hum, his head burying itself in your neck.

You blushed at the pet name, the only name that Taka ever addressed you as. In fact, you could barely remember the last time that he’d used your real name when speaking to you. The name never failed to fill you with warmth and love. Even when he made love to you, there were no ‘baby’s or ‘princess’s, there was only ‘my love’ and something about the consistency of the use of the endearment made you lose it each time without fail.

There was just something so comforting about Takanobu Aone. Of course, you had already known that seeing as you had been dating him for almost 4 years now. He had been comforting when you first met him, and over the last four years, nothing had changed. If anything, Taka’s presence had become even more comforting as he had grown comfortable around you.

You vividly remembered the first day that you had met him, you were the assigned architect to the site that he was working on. You had shown up, dressed in casual office clothes, a flattering pair of high waisted jeans, with an emerald green button-down blouse. Apparently, you had caught Taka’s eye that first day, and according to him, he had fallen in love with you right in that spot.

You suppose that was the first day that Takanobu utilized his ninja skills against you because you could only remember meeting him and seeing him once, but he swore that he had lingered by you all day, unable to focus fully on his work as you commanded attention around the site.

It took Taka weeks to work up the nerve to ask you out, the only reason he finally did was that his friends had seen how hopelessly infatuated with you he was and tricked him into believing that you would be leaving the project. In a panic, he stayed late at the site just to catch you at the door to ask you to go on a walk with him in the park that Sunday.

You accepted, surprising him. You had no clue why he was surprised, he was incredibly handsome and not to mention strong and polite. When you asked him about his surprised expression, he explained that people were usually afraid of him and he was a bit surprised when you accepted his offer without so much as a look of hesitation.

That Sunday, he met you at a local park and surprised you with a large picnic. He even brought you a small plush teddy bear that he’d seen in the window of a shop on his way to the park. As soon as the blush had danced over his face as his large hands held out the small toy for you to accept, you knew that your heart was his.

The rest was history, every day since then Taka had continuously proved to you that he was the best thing to ever happen to you. You remembered the first time that he hugged you, wrapping his strong arms around you as if you were the most delicate thing on the earth. You only laughed and insisted that he could hold you tighter, that you weren’t a small woman, that you wouldn’t break. Since then, Aone had never held back when holding you. Always holding you close, always whispering to you how much he loved you and your soft form.

Before Taka, you had always been slightly self-conscious about your body. Unsatisfied with the way that your thighs shook and how you didn’t possess a flat stomach or smooth back. But Takanobu insisted that he loved you even more because of your size and never failed to make you believe that you were beautiful. He would massage your thighs as you cuddled, telling you how soft they were and how lucky he was that they belonged to only him. He would buy you the raciest lingerie and stubbornly insist that you wore it for him as the two of you cooked dinner together before he took you back to your bedroom and made love to you.

Despite you having told Taka more than 100 times that he didn’t have to be so cautious with you seeing as you were taller and fuller than most women, he never ceased to be anything but soft with you in bed. Always asking you what felt good, asking you what you wanted him to do to you. He was always gentle as he took you, that being said, even with him being gentle all the time. The man was so big that ‘gentle’ still possessed enough power to completely wreck you inside and out.

“How was your day?” You asked, turning around in his arms to look into his eyes. He stared at you like you were his world, brushing the hair out of your face as he hummed out an ‘it was good’

“I missed you,” He said, tightening his arms around your waist and pulling your body flush with his as he placed gentle kisses in the crook of your neck.

“Taka.” You moaned quietly, feeling the unmistakable outline of his dick on your thigh. You weren’t gonna lie. You wanted him too. It had been a long stressful day at work for you and as soon as you had gotten home you’d wanted nothing more than to be filled and fucked by your boyfriend. Unfortunately, Takanobu had been working late, stuck at the construction site which was at least 1 hour away from your apartment. So you were forced to make dinner and eat it alone, making sure to leave plenty for your boyfriend, who would without a doubt, be starving after a long day of physical labor.

“Yes, my love?” He asked, his lips never leaving your skin as he slowly kissed from your neck down to your collarbone, sucking softly on the area as your body arched up into his. His hands were still wrapped around your waist, trapping you against his large body. The only thing you could do was loop one of your arms around Taka’s broad shoulders and the other around the back of his head, pulling him impossibly closer to you.

“Fuck me please…” you moaned. Your heart clenched as you felt his smile against your neck, his hands shifting from their position on your waist, down to caress your hips. Taka said nothing as he obediently began to undress, undoing the clothes that he had just put on after his shower. After undressing he leaned back down, finally connecting his lips with yours.

You sighed happily into the kiss, your heart filled at the light touch of his slightly chapped lips against yours. He took his time with it, teasing you as his touch dipped in and out of your mouth, never long enough for you to take control as it danced across yours. Not that you could maintain control when you got it, physically, Taka was always the one in control. He wanted you to always feel protected and dominating you in the bedroom was one of his ways of expressing that. Not that you minded, you knew that you were truly the one in control, he was at your service, doing any and everything to please you.

“Taka…” you whined, pressing your hips up against his, eliciting a deep groan from his chest. His hands rubbed against your sides as they made their way down to the hem of your shirt. You had put on one of Taka’s t-shirts, knowing that it made him happy to see you in his clothes.

You felt Taka’s hand slip under the hem of the shirt, stilling as he realized that you weren’t wearing panties. Another low groan vibrated through his chest as he looked up at you with curiosity in his eyes.

“I wanted to be ready for you,” you whispered, barely able to hold in a giggle at the expression of surprise on Taka’s face. He nodded. His eyes left yours, dragging down your figure leaving you feeling hot as they carved a trail from your breasts to your naval.

“I see.” He murmured, his long fingers slaying across the expanse of your upper thighs. His face was level with your pussy and you could feel his hot breath brushing across the exposed flesh, making your head spin. After four years, you still have no clue how the simplest things he did still drove you crazier than a teen on prom night.

Without another word, his mouth attached itself to your clit. You cried out at the feeling of his tongue flicking out across the sensitive bud as his tongue began to slowly dip in and out of you.

“Fuck!” You moaned, your hands gripping the bedsheets beside you as your boyfriend ate you out, passionate and soft at the same time. You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter at his touch.

What Taka didn’t know, was that you had already tried to touch yourself earlier that night. You had managed to get yourself off, but it had still left you very unsatisfied. No orgasm that you gave yourself could ever compare with one given to you by Takanobu. That being said, your body was still warm and since you had already climaxed once that night, you could feel your next one approaching faster than usual.

“Taka… give me your cock please.” You begged, your hands coming down to wrap around his biceps, attempting (and failing) to drag his body up yours so that you could kiss him.

Taka obeyed, crawling up your lips and capturing them with his own. You could taste yourself on him, turning you on even more. You reached down to slip your hand into his boxers, pulling away from his kiss to moan at the sheer size of his cock in your hand. He groaned as your wrist quickly twisted around the hot flesh. He could feel the impatience in your movements and even though he usually enjoyed taking his time with you, bringing you to climax slowly as you cried his name and begged for him to let you come, tonight he was so eager himself, he couldn’t find it within himself to take it slow.

“Are you ready my love?” He asked, not even bothering to take his boxers off, he wanted to fuck you so badly that he merely slipped his thick cock through the slot in the front. He knew that he’d have to change his boxers after seeing as they were already drenched with your juices, despite only being pressed up against your pussy for seconds, but he didn’t care. You and your pleasure were the only things on his mind.

You nodded desperately, your bottom lip clenched between your teeth as your stomach knotted in anticipation.

Taka guided his cock to your core, grunting as the swollen head slipped through the ridiculous amount of slick covering the folds of your heat. He began to press himself into you, having to close his eyes and still himself every other second to keep in control as you adjusted to the sheer size of his cock.

“Fuuuck Taka…” you whined, your voice high and dripping pathetically with arousal, “I love your cock so much….. so fucking big.”

After another few seconds, Taka was fully in you. The tip of his cock was dangerously close to your cervix and your walls were deliciously stretched around his length. He slowly began to rock in and out, his hands never easing their grip on your thighs as small grunts escaped his lips.

You could feel yourself already shaking with pleasure. Your mind was completely blank, the only thing you could focus on was how badly you wanted him to pound into you, make you his.

As if Takanobu could hear your thoughts, his thrusts began to pick up in speed. His weight shifting on the bed to gain more leveraging in holding your thighs open for himself.

“Faster Taka!” You cried, feeling his hot cock stretch and drag inside of your dripping cunt. You could feel your end approaching much faster than expected, and you wanted to make sure that Taka was just as taken care of as you were.

Taka’s hips quickened further, snapping with quick shallow thrusts that left you gasping for breath.

The room was filled with your moans mixed with Taka’s grunts. Your mouth couldn’t even form words. Were as usual you’d be telling him how good he felt inside you, how big he was, now you couldn’t even form a sentence. All that was coming out of your mouth was unintelligible babbling, begging him to fuck you harder.

“Fuuuck!” you squeaked, your hips jumping and your back arching off of the bed as the head of Taka’s cock hit directly into your g-spot. Takanobu just grunted and drove his thrusts harder into that spot, making you see stars as his cock pounded in you at an unrelenting pace.

“I’m close Taka.” You gasped, tears of pleasure welling in your eyes as his fingers danced across your clit, rubbing small circles around it as his dick continued its merciless onslaught on your insides.

Taka’s lips wrapped around your left nipple, massaging the bud with his tongue. You were almost falling off of the cliff, there was only one thing missing….

“Come for me, my Love” Taka whispered, pushing you off into an intense orgasm.

“Taka!” You cried, your body beginning to shake as your climax took over your whole body, causing your pussy to clench around Taka’s cock that was still pounding into you.

“Y/N…..” Taka groaned, his dick beginning to spasm and twitch inside of you, spilling his hot seed into you. Your pussy milked him as you both rode out your highs, your lips locked as your bodies slowly came back down. As you both calmed down, Taka pulled out of you, a blush gracing his face at the wet ‘pop’. You giggled at him, moaning and keening at the feeling of his hot cum dripping down your thighs.

Without a word, he climbed out of the bed. He picked you up bridal style and carried you to the bathroom to care for you.

You took turns cleaning each other off. Giving Takanobu kisses on his blushing cheeks as you cleaned him and giggling as he kissed yours when he cleaned you. After you were both in fresh clothes with you wrapped up in his arms, you looked up at him.

“I love you Takanobu.” You hummed, your chin resting contently on his strong chest. He smiled back down at you, his large fingers tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. He didn’t say it back, but you knew from the way that he held you, that he loved you. You could feel every ounce of love he poured into you as he carried you back to your shared bed. He wrapped his body around yours again, his head resting on your chest as he hugged your body tightly. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your fingers unconsciously running through his short blonde hair. Before long you could feel his breathing steady, and you knew that he had fallen asleep. You closed your eyes as well, welcoming the thought of rest as you laid with Taka. As you drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but thank the universe that you had met Taka.

He really was the best thing that had ever happened to you.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x chubby reader #aone hcs #aone smut #haikyuuxreader #aone x reader

[writing-in-april]

Taking Care

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: Spencer needs Reader to help him relax after some people were unkind to him.

A/N: This is my last and final fic for my 750 follower celebration!! Thank you for all the support I received on all of the fics, I’m glad people were just as excited to read them as I was to write them. Thank you to all the people who helped me work out all the ideas for the fics- extra special thanks to @spencers-dria who helped come up with a few of the ideas and helped me edit sometimes! This fic was a request from @safertokiss and I felt like it was a good one to end on. Hope you all enjoy! Next week I’m going to knock out some of my requests and then- the first part of my series is coming out!

Warnings: 18+, Mommy kink, Spencer is a sad boi at first, Lots of praise, Oral sex (F receiving), Handjob

Main Masterlist Word count: 1.4K 

As soon as Spencer came through the front door you could tell something was off. His shoulders were slumped forward, his hair hanging over his eyes, and he didn’t give you the normal greeting he gave when he came home.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You approached him slowly. He was toeing off his shoes to put in our shoe rack, but all his movements were tinged with lethargy. He looked absolutely exhausted; what was supposed to be an easy paperwork day had obviously turned out to be anything but easy.

“Nothing…” His tone did little to convince you that ‘nothing’ was wrong.

“If you don’t want to talk about it that's fine, but I know it’s not nothing.” You opened up your arms a little and prompted him to move closer to you, “Come here.”

He gladly took your warm embrace and practically slumped into you. You could feel the tension already starting to melt away from him just from a simple hug, fully showing how much he needed to relax. Normally, he didn’t like people touching him, but there was something about you that made him want to hold you tight and never let go.

“Um-Well, what happened was that-gosh it seems so silly. Morgan and Elle laughed at me before we all left when I ranted about the new Star Trek episode we watched together...” Anger started to radiate through you at his words, you never understood why people would make fun of Spencer for his ranting, it was one of your favorite parts about him. You were already planning in your head on giving Morgan and Elle a piece of your mind the next time you saw them. You were slightly surprised he was opening up this quickly to you. Usually, it took him at least a few hours for him to be able to speak with you about troubling events.

“Your feelings aren’t silly baby. It’s ok if you’re upset about it.” You spoke soothingly to him while rubbing circles with your thumbs into his shoulder blades. An idea of how to further take care of Spencer then sprung up into your mind. “Do you need Mommy today? Would that make my baby boy feel better?”

He ducked down into your shoulder in response to your whispered words into his ear. You couldn’t see his cheeks, but you were sure they were flushed a deep red.

“Yeah, I’d like that, Mommy.”

You then gently guided him towards your bedroom, having him sit down at the edge of the edge of the bed while you sat above him. When you began to kiss his beautiful plush lips he moaned into you, clearly craving your touch. But, when you moved to start undoing his slacks to try and relieve some of that aching tension he stopped you hands.

“Do you want to stop, baby? We don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Worry instantly flooded through you, afraid that Spencer felt uncomfortable all of a sudden and wanted to be left alone.

“No, I don’t want to stop. Can I make you feel good first, Mommy?”

“No, baby boy it’s all about you tonight.” Most people would probably call you insane for turning down such a sweet offer, but you wanted to take care of Spencer tonight.

“Please, Mommy?” He begged with the sweetest puppy dog eyes that melted your resolve.

“Alright, alright I’ll let you, no need to pout, baby.” You peeled off the leggings you were wearing to reveal a basic red thong you had pulled on without much thought this morning. They may have been a simple style, but Spencer’s eyes went wild when your lower half was revealed to him. He still didn’t reach out to you yet, you hadn’t given him permission to touch you yet. When you eventually got comfortable laying down on the bed propped up on your elbows you crooked your finger towards Spencer, beckoning him over. “I give you permission to touch me.”

“Thank you, Mommy.” He said before hooking your thong to the side, he was far too impatient to take them off himself. Whenever Spencer got permission to eat your pussy he went absolutely rabid, his tongue gliding over you so fervently it felt like your nerves had been lit on fire.

After he was sure he had explored every part of you, he dipped his head down to circle his tongue at your dripping entrance. You reached your hands up to pinch your hardened nipples through your shirt as Spencer continued his assault on your core.

“Am I doing a good job, Mommy?” He mumbled right into your core, just loud enough that you could hear him. God, his mouth was so skilled. He had been so inexperienced when you first met him and now he knew how to get you over the edge in a matter of minutes.

“Y-you’re doing so so gooood for Mommy.” You moaned out hotly, teetering close to an orgasm while rolling your hips into his face. He let out a hum of satisfaction into your core, then sucking your clit between his lips. It only took a few more seconds of his ministrations before you were falling off the edge, cumming right on his face. Spencer greedily licked up all your juices causing you to involuntarily squirm from the slight overstimulation, he always loved the way that you tasted.

Once you had caught your breath you engulfed Spencer into a bruising kiss that you made sure to dominate swiftly by slipping your tongue into his mouth. You released his lips after a few minutes of appreciating them, now more focused on giving him what you had promised.

“Thank you, my good boy. Now, let me reward you, baby.” You praised while peppering hickies and pressing kisses down his exposed skin until you fully slid down onto your knees.

Delicately you pulled his belt out of its loops and undid his slacks, revealing his tightening blue boxers that also had started to get soaked from his precum. You reached forward to stroke his cock still confined by his underwear, pulling a needy whine from him.

“Aww, you need Mommy to take care of you, don't you?” He bobbed his head eagerly at your words, prompting you to free him from his boxers that were keeping his aching cock caged. The head of his cock was flushed a deep red and glistening, standing up curved against his belly, serving as a testament to how much he needed you.

You grabbed a bottle of lube from your bedside table, popping the cap and dripping it all over his cock. The weight of him in your palm was heavy as you started to stroke his cock, making sure to drag over every inch of him slowly everytime you pumped your hand. Precum was dribbling down heavily from him and mixing in with the lube as you deftly worked him up to euphoria. A particularly breathy noise left his lips when you started to focus your attention around the head of his cock, flicking your thumb slightly each time to brush past the slit slightly.

“I’m sorry- Mommy I can’t hold it, I’m gonna cum.” His words high pitched and whiny with tears prickling in his eyes while he bucked his hips up desperately into your hand. It wasn’t surprising to you that he wasn’t going to last long, poor baby needed to release all of that tension.

“No need to say sorry, today’s all about you. Go ahead, baby boy, cover my fists.” You used both of your hands to jerk him hard and fast, you didn’t want to drag it out for him, he had been so good for you. He let out a few ah, ah, ahs! before spilling over and covering your hands. His eyes went wide when you then leaned forward, licking up all the evidence off of your hands and his belly. Then, pressing one kiss to his cock that made him shiver.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Mommy.” Spencer whimpered out as he watched you carefully clean up the mess you had made of him. He then remarked bashfully, “I’m sorry for cumming so quickly.”

“No more apologies, you were following the directions I gave you like the good boy you are. Thank you for letting me take care of you, Spencer. Mommy loves taking care of you”

—-

Tag list (message me if you want to be added):

All works:

@shotarosleftpinky

Spencer Reid/CM:

@calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss

Sub Spencer:

@thatsonezesty13 @pastathighs @virtualpeanutartisanjudge

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler smut #750 follower celebration #750 followers

[fruitcoops]

hi! i was the one who asked if your requests were open :) so you write remus with a praise kink, and you do it in the bEst way possible!! like, it gets a big reaction every time, but it’s not demeaning in any way, and i fucking adore that. i was wondering if you could write abt how sirius found out remus liked it? like in the gag fic he says “good boy” by accident and the reaction it gets is just sooo good and i can imagine him saying it without thinking about it and remus just going 😳!! if you don’t feel like writing this, by all means don’t!!

Hello, and thank you for your kind message! I never want to display kinks/ smut dynamics as demeaning, so I’m really glad it doesn’t come off that way. Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for smut, praise kink, and a bit of brattiness

Sirius closed his eyes as the sting on his rear end faded. “Really?”

“What?” Remus asked, quirking an eyebrow at him with a grin playing at his mouth. “You don’t like it when I do that?”

“You know I do.”

He shrugged. “Then I don’t see a problem.”

Sirius snagged him by the belt loop and reeled him in, feeling a flare in his gut at the false resistance act Remus put on. Slender hands splayed over his hips and squeezed; something devilish gleamed in Remus’ eyes. “You know you can just ask, right?”

“Ask for what?”

“Come on, Re,” he scoffed, leaning closer.

Remus’ hands slid down to his ass and rested there, just heavy enough that Sirius felt his thighs tingling. “I want to hear you say it.”

With a quiet laugh, he cradled Remus’ jaw in his palms and tilted it up, then tugged his lower lip between his teeth for a moment. “If you want a good, solid railing,” he murmured, skimming his mouth over Remus’ cheek. “All you have to do is ask.”

“You want me to beg?” Remus breathed out a snicker. “That’s more up your alley, babes.”

“Depends on what direction this afternoon is going in.”

He felt Remus’ soft huff against his neck before lips brushed his earlobe. “Not a chance.”

“Fine, then.” Sirius rallied his self-control and stepped away, raising his hands in surrender before turning back to his crossword. “Just know that it’s your own stubborn fault.”

“My wh—” Remus spluttered, knocking their hips together. “Somebody’s feeling grumpy.”

Sirius propped his chin on his hand and glanced over. “And somebody else is too damn proud to admit they’re just gagging for it, eh?”

The tips of Remus’ ears turned pink, as did his neck; he wiggled his way between Sirius and his crossword, then hopped up onto the countertop and pulled him in for a knee-melting kiss as his ankles locked around Sirius’ lower back. “What’m I supposed to say?” he asked. Sirius could feel his heart hammering beneath his palm and grinned. Just how long have you been pent up?

“Baby,” he began, moving down to litter Remus’ neck and jaw with kisses. “Please take me to bed and fuck me so hard I forget my name.”

Remus paused, then dissolved into laughter. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re horny,” Sirius countered, bumping his nose with his own. “Are you going to say it, or should I go back to my crossword until you find your words?”

“You’re really going to make me say it?”

“Mhmm.”

“Do I have to use those exact words?”

“I can write it down if you weren’t paying attention the first time.”

Remus rolled his eyes, then cleared his throat and suppressed another laugh. “Baby, please take me to bed.”

“And…?”

“And fuck me so hard I forget my name, you menace.”

Sirius untangled his legs and gave him room to slide back down to the floor. “That last part wasn’t necessary.”

“It’s the truth!”

“It’s mean!” he protested, tickling his ribs until he jerked out of the way with a yelp. “Now c’mere, I want to carry you to bed.”

Remus eyed his hands warily. “No way.”

“I won’t tickle you again.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

Sirius threw his hands in the air, torn between exasperation and giddy affection. “Then how do you propose we get upstairs, oh wise and wonderful one?”

He regretted his words immediately. Remus’ chin tilted just so, and a sweet smile spread over his face as he rocked back on his heels, then turned and took off running up the stairs. Sirius laughed in spite of himself and sprinted after him, missing his belt by half an inch as Remus skipped the last step and swung around into the hall.

Sirius tackled him onto the mattress and latched his hands onto his sides. “You’re such a brat!”

“No,” Remus managed, kicking and flailing to no avail as Sirius pinned him down. “No, no, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, shit—”

“What are you sorry for?”

He scrunched his face up and made a valiant effort to get his hands near Sirius’ ribcage, only to yank back when fingers found the soft place beneath his chin. “I’m sorry—I’m sorry—I’m sorry you’re such a bastard.”

“You little shit!” Sirius redoubled his efforts until tears of mirth gathered in Remus’ eyes.

“I give,” he said at last. “I give. I’m sorry for running away, alright?”

“I don’t believe you, but okay.” Sirius settled himself on Remus’ chest, then pressed a kiss to the bridge of his nose. “Cutie.”

“Ew. Affection.”

“I love you.”

The chest beneath him rose and fell in a heavy sigh, and Remus’ whole face softened. “I love you, too.”

“Ready to get back to forgetting your own name?”

“God, yes.”

And so, both still snickering like a couple of teenage boys fumbling around in some janitor’s closet instead of their shared bed, they managed to get their shirts off between messy kisses and wandering hands that still made Remus jump when they got too close. “I’m not going to tickle you!” Sirius said, rubbing his flat palms along the smooth skin and all its bumps. “See?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Remus squirmed all the same, though, and planted one more kiss to his lips before shimmying out of his fantastically high-waisted jeans that always made Sirius’ brain lose a few neurons. “One of these days, I should really start doing workouts like you and the team.”

Sirius hummed in question as he mapped the curve of Remus’ shoulder with his teeth and tongue, sliding his own pants down.

“Just to keep up, you know?” More space opened up as Remus turned his head into the pillow, and Sirius made a noise of delight. Fuck, he tastes incredible. “I put on muscle pretty quick—”

His mouth came off with a light pop that made them both grin. “Sweetheart, if you get buff, I won’t survive.”

“No?” Even the mental image of Remus with enough corded muscle to manhandle him a bit—or, god forbid, pick him up—made him stir in his underwear, and his mouth watered. “Oh, okay. I might have to do it anyway, just to see that look on your face.”

“And you call me a menace,” Sirius teased, kissing those plush lips for all he was worth before slipping his hand beneath the elastic waistband.

Remus’ mouth opened against his own with a harsh exhale and his knees knocked against Sirius’ thighs. “Ngh, fuck me.”

“In a minute.”

“Baby.”

“Be patient.”

“No,” he practically whined, bucking his hips up as if to flip their positions. Sirius tightened his grip by half a degree and slid a finger down to press against the soft bit of skin below his cleft; Remus went absolutely still with bated breath. “Oh.”

“Be. Patient.”

Deep copper eyelashes fluttered on Sirius’ cheekbone as he kissed Remus’ temple and began stroking him, slow and steady even while long legs twitched on either side of his waist. “Come on, come on, come on,” Remus panted, shivering slightly while he pushed down on the muscle of Sirius’ bare back with his strong hands.

“I missed you last week,” Sirius murmured. He licked a stripe up his neck and felt Remus writhe in pleasure.

“Uh-huh.”

“FaceTime is not the same, and texting is extremely inconvenient on the bus.”

A lazy grin revealed sharp teeth. “How much did Pots chirp you for—oh—that?”

“He didn’t see anything.” Sirius moved his free hand down to stroke Remus’ inner thigh and watched his jaw go slack. “But Harzy is far too perceptive for his own good. Next time, wait to send nudes until I tell you I’m alone.”

“They weren’t nudes.”

“Were you wearing clothes?”

“…not many. At least I was tasteful about it. Did Harzy actually see them or—” His breath hitched when Sirius pressed beneath the head of his dick. “—or can I continue to look him in the eye?”

Sirius laughed and nuzzled into the scar on Remus’ shoulder. “I had a window seat, so you’re safe for now. He put it together pretty quick, though.”

Remus flexed his fingers and tugged on the waistband of Sirius’ boxers, sliding them as far down as he could. “Off.”

“Alright.” Sirius took his hand away and Remus’ face fell into abject sorrow. “I need both hands, mon coeur.”

“No, you don’t.” Remus ground upward and Sirius swallowed hard as more precum dampened the front of his underwear, then suppressed a shudder when cold fingers closed over his wrist and guided it between them once again. Remus licked into his mouth and pulled him down for more, trapping him with gentle touches and steely thighs. “You’re just dripping for me, huh? Come on, baby, I asked so nicely earlier.”

Sirius could hear his heartbeat in his ears and dragged the last bits of fabric away, sighing at the skin-to-skin contact after over a week of absence. Fuck, it must have been…what, a week and a half since they went beyond hurried blowjobs? More? He growled low in his throat and pushed one of Remus’ legs toward his chest, feeling his sharp smile.

“Finally.”

“I’m not fucking you yet.”

“Is that so?” He sounded amused by the very idea of it.

Fine, then, fuck you too. “Yep. I’m going to work you open until you beg for it and mean it this time.”

“You won’t last that long.”

“Try me, Loops.”

Remus threw his head back and laughed. “Pulling out the nicknames, huh? Alright, Cap.”

Sirius’ teasing smirk dipped on one side as he let the nickname roll over him and tingle up his spine. “Say it again.”

Golden eyes turned dark, glimmering dangerously. “Why should I?”

“You’re just being contrary now.”

“Baby, I’m always contrary.”

“I’ll start opening you up if you say it for me,” he wheedled.

Remus thought for a moment, narrowing his eyes, then settled into place and kissed Sirius’ forehead. “Promise, Cap?”

“Promise.”

Remus inhaled deeply in pure bliss as Sirius’ index finger pressed in to the first knuckle, prodding gently while he grabbed the lube out of the nightstand. After a moment of preparation, he pushed two slick fingers in and kept a careful eye out for his favorite expression.

There.

With a cut-off breath, Remus squeezed his eyes shut, brows pitching up as he bit down on his lip. Part of a moan slipped through and his throat seized when Sirius ran the pads of his fingers along his sweet spot; his jaw ticked at the edge and he buried the side of his face in the pillow with a soft sound.

“You are a work of art,” Sirius said before he could stop himself.

A deep blush spread over Remus’ torso and he smiled. “Yeah?”

“Oui, mon coeur. I could look at you all day long and never get bored.” His back arched and Sirius had a sudden thought as he pushed his own hips into the mattress for some kind of relief. “Have I ever told you that?”

“Hmm, you tell me I’m pretty all the time.” Remus cracked an eye open. “I like it. ‘Work of art’ might be a bit of a stretch.”

“No,” Sirius said. He felt a sudden tightness when he went over a certain spot and concentrated his efforts there, moving carefully and methodically while he tried to keep his wits about him. “It’s not a stretch at all. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, from your toes to your curls.”

The vibrant color reached Remus’ cheeks; he seemed to be struggling and happy at the same time. Outside of the bed, he would’ve brushed off the compliments with a snarky comeback, but Sirius’ words turned him soft and sweet around his fingers. Sirius couldn’t tell who was leaking more. “Stop it,” he mumbled, though his hips rocked slightly.

“Stop what? Telling you how wonderful you are?” Sirius pressed down a little harder and watched his shoulders shake at the heightened feeling. “I don’t think I want to if it means you keep riding my fingers. This is a new development, and I’m curious.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“I dunno.” Something frantic crept onto his face and Sirius pushed his boxers down, then took Remus’ wrist and pulled it down to his shaft. “This—is this weird?”

“Complimenting you? Not at all.” Sirius muffled a moan in the hollow of Remus’ throat, feeling his grip grow smoother with each motion. “Fucking hell, you’re fantastic. Just keep doing that, d’accord?”

Remus nodded—all his muscles relaxed as Sirius let up some of the pressure on his prostate and returned to stroking his dick loosely. “Don’t know why I like it. Just do. Are you adding another?”

“No.”

A pleading whine made Sirius smirk. “Why not?”

“Because two fingers are plenty when you’re like this. You can handle it.”

“I still know my name.”

“Then sit and stay until I make you forget it.”

“Sit and stay,” he muttered, though there was an undercurrent of fondness that Sirius didn’t miss. “I’m not a dog.”

“Good boy,” Sirius said with a cheeky grin.

Remus’ eyes flashed open and his free hand gripped the sheets; with a jolt of shock, he came all over Sirius’ hand. “Oh!”

Sirius froze, unsure whether to keep going or call an ambulance. “Re?”

“Say it again,” he demanded, gripping Sirius’ shoulder with a wild edge to his voice. “Say it—say it again, please. Cap, Cap, fuck just say it again.”

“Um…” Sirius shook off his surprise and gave him a light stroke. “Good boy?”

Remus rolled his hips with a low hum. “ ‘s me?”

“…yes?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just—” He pressed his lips together with a noise of pleasure. “God, it’s—Sirius.”

Find the rhythm, figure it out, he told himself. “Can you go again?”

“Yeah, yes, please.”

Remus was already hardening in his hand and Sirius took a few deep breaths to stop himself from coming at the sight before rolling a condom on and grabbing the lube. It wasn’t difficult to get him into the right spot; all his earlier brattiness had faded under the glow of their new discovery. Remus was tight and warm when he finally pressed in, and Sirius knew neither of them would last long. “You’re so good for me,” he said, testing the waters with the few coherent thoughts he had left. “So good, Re.”

“Oh my god,” Remus gasped.

“Fuck, um, what do you want me to say?”

Remus’ legs trembled around his waist. “Tell me I’m good, and—and anything you want to say, oh my god.”

He wrapped a hand around the back of his knee. “You look amazing like this, good boy. So pretty.”

“Holy shit,” Remus laughed in disbelief without opening his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Um, fuck, I’m gonna come.” The realization slammed into Sirius and he picked up the pace, losing himself to Remus’ breathless moans as his own noises tumbled from his lips and the edge crept ever closer.

“Yes, yes,” Remus hissed, hiding his face in the junction of Sirius’ neck and shoulder, littering it with sloppy bites that wouldn’t leave proper marks but still sent tingles through Sirius’ whole body.

His orgasm did not sneak up on him by any stretch of the imagination, but it still caught him by surprise and he fell apart in Remus’ arms, then jacked him with a clumsy hand as soon as the world came back into focus. “You’re fucking perfect, mon coeur, now c’mon, come for me—”

Remus stifled a shout into his skin, followed by a drawn-out whimper as he shuddered to pieces. They laid there in total silence for a full minute, save for their heavy breaths. “Um. Hmm.” Remus’ voice was wrecked.

“You okay?”

“Oh, definitely.”

Sirius hesitated. “Are you…going to let go of me?”

“Nope.”

He pulled out, then rubbed his face against Remus’ sweaty hair. “Are you hiding?”

The skin plastered to his own heated up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t have to be embarrassed. Not around me.”

With a grumbly sound, Remus peeled his hands off Sirius’ back and tucked them into his own chest; he made a face when his forearms touched the not-quite-dried come on his front, all flushed and flustered. “That was…interesting.”

“You seemed to like it.”

“Did it bug you?”

“Not even a little,” Sirius answered honestly, kissing the side of his mouth. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Do you want to clean up now, or do you need a second?”

Remus bit his swollen lower lip and winced. “Can you grab a washcloth or something? I need a minute to think, but then cuddles sound really good.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” Sirius kissed him softly and got up, dropping the condom in the trash before using the bathroom. He was halfway through dampening a washcloth in the sink when he heard a sigh of relief from the bedroom. There’s no way he got off again that fast. “Re? Everything alright?”

“I’m not weird!” Remus called back.

“Okay?” He wrung out the cloth and headed back in, wiping his own stomach and thighs before cleaning Remus off.

“Thanks, love, that’s really sweet.”

“No problem. Found something interesting?”

“Mhmm.” Remus passed him his phone. “Apparently, I’m not the only one.”

Sirius squinted at the screen, still a bit addled from the events of the past forty minutes. Praise kink: when someone derives pleasure from being praised by their partner(s), usually in a sexual context. “Cool.”

Remus fit himself under Sirius’ arm with a slow breath. “I’m glad that didn’t freak you out.”

“Nothing that makes you that happy will ever freak me out,” Sirius said, pulling the covers up higher. “I like learning new things about you.”

“Ditto.” A small, contented smile lit his whole face and he closed his eyes, spreading a hand over the left side of Sirius’ chest. Sirius was definitely going to be sore in the morning—sex after a long week of travel always made his hamstrings cramp up—but he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

He wrapped his arms tight around Remus and basked in his warmth. “Mmm. Good boy.”

“Oh, fuck you.”