#‘i don’t sleep anymore’ AND HE NEVER DOES AGAIN!!

[shonen-brainrot]

Together - Bakugo x Reader (comfort)

masterlist

The soft light of early morning spills through the window, painting the bedroom in hues of gold and rose. You wake to the familiar weight of his arm draped across your waist, his breathing steady and deep, his face relaxed in a rare, peaceful expression. Katsuki Bakugo doesn’t look this calm often, not anymore. Not since the war.

You move carefully, not wanting to disturb him. But as you try to shift, his grip tightens ever so slightly. Even in sleep, his instincts are sharp. You glance over your shoulder, catching the way his jaw clenches, his brows furrowing in that familiar scowl even now.

You wonder if he’s dreaming of the battlefield again.

It’s been nearly 10 years since the dust of the final battle settled. The world has changed so much. The heroes are rebuilding, trying to restore what was lost. Bakugo’s name is whispered with reverence across the nation — Dynamight, the one who helped bring peace. But to you, he’s Katsuki. Your Katsuki, the boy who used to snarl at you for getting too close, and now, the man who can’t sleep without his hand resting on your skin, as if anchoring himself to something that isn’t the chaos.

You can tell when he’s having a bad day. He doesn’t talk about it — he never does — but the tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes cloud over, those signs are enough. You’ve learned to read him in ways no one else can. But you wish, sometimes, that he would share the weight he carries, that he’d let you into the storm raging in his mind.

“Katsuki,” you whisper, gently shifting to face him. The sound of his name from your lips, soft and tender, works like a tether. His eyes flutter open, and for a moment, they’re unfocused, still lost in the remnants of some distant war.

He blinks, and the sharpness returns. He’s here. With you.

“Morning,” he grumbles, his voice rough with sleep. His hand moves to your cheek, calloused fingers brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. It’s a small gesture, one that he doesn’t even seem to think about, but it sends warmth blooming in your chest. The touch is gentle — so unlike the explosive power in his hands when he’s out there saving the world. 

You lean into his touch, your eyes locking with his. The scars on his face are more prominent in the morning light, reminders of the battles you both fought to get here. But to you, they’re not marks of violence. They’re proof of his resilience, his strength, his will to survive and protect.

“You okay?” you ask softly, knowing the answer but asking anyway. 

He huffs, his typical response, but his thumb brushes against your cheek with a tenderness he doesn’t often let others see. “Tch. 'Course I am.”

You smile, but it’s tinged with concern. You know him better than that. You reach up, taking his hand in yours and pressing a kiss to his knuckles, feeling the small tremor that runs through him at the intimate gesture. His walls are strong, but they crumble for you, in moments like these, when the world feels far away and it's just the two of you, suspended in the quiet aftermath of everything.

“You don’t have to pretend, you know,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Not with me.”

His eyes darken for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in. He shifts, sitting up in bed, running a hand through his messy blonde hair, which falls rebelliously across his face. He doesn’t respond right away. Bakugo’s never been good with words, not when it comes to things that matter most. But then, after a long pause, he sighs.

“It’s just…” He stops, jaw tightening. “It’s not over. Not for me.”

You reach out, gently brushing the hair out of his eyes, the same way he always does for you. The small act feels like an unspoken promise — that you’re here, that you always will be by his side.

“I know,” you say softly. “But you don’t have to go through it alone. I’m here, Katsuki. Always.”

His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the vulnerability there takes your breath away. He reaches for you, pulling you close, his face buried in the crook of your neck. It’s not an apology, not an admission of weakness. But in his silence, you find his answer.

You hold him, running your fingers through his hair, feeling his heartbeat slowly calm against yours. The world may never fully heal from the wounds left behind, but in this moment, here with him, you believe that you both will find a way to keep moving forward. Together.

[carefulfears]

a lot of these fans are scully hardcore fans who call mulder an asshole for fucking someone while scully is abducted and in danger and i’m like maybe let him have the one thing that makes him forget all this even for a split second and makes him stop the self flagellation for a moment ?? you know..

tbh i feel like kristen was kind of more an indulgence into self-hatred (and a sort of feeling of betrayal?) than anything else but i totally get what you’re saying anon and you’re so right like…omg…let me not speak…

[dekuneho]

tenderly, tragically ☆ ( ​prohero!katsuki x reader ) — aftermath of a huge argument, clingy and soft katsuki my entire blog’s agenda

You wake to an empty bed once again — the third time this week. It’s cold on your right; that’s a bit unfair. Does Katsuki take all the love and warmth along with him? Or it could be because it’s two AM and every trace of fatigue drained out of you at the reminder of your lone bedroom, like a cold, empty picture of a memorial.

You shuffle out of bed, ignoring how strangely unsettling it is not to have a body to crawl over just to get to the kitchen. You forgo the house slippers; you only steal Katsuki's pair anyway — and right now, he's out of the question.

The kitchen feels just as stale. No surprise there. Katsuki's absence sucked the life out of your shared apartment.

A glimpse of orange by the dining table begs for your attention. You approach carefully, stomach swooping. It’s a lunchbox, still with leftover food greasing the sides, unwashed. You know this one well enough because you bought it for him. For Katsuki. This was never here before, though.

You aren't sure how the fight started, if it was something blandly petty, or if either of you crossed an unforgivable line that tipped towards a night of screaming and shrieking that had your neighbors complaining hours after. You find that you don't have it in yourself to care anymore. This apartment, that bed — all without Katsuki is worse than any hurtful dagger of words you threw at each other.

Your fingers skim on the orange lunchbox, tracing the little ‘X’s sprinkled throughout like some off-brand copy of his hero costume, intimately familiar. Katsuki snorted when you gifted it to him — it was a really, really ugly laugh.

"Oh."

You startle and whip your head to the source, gaze landing on Katsuki, stunned and mid-way through rubbing the back of his hair with a towel.

You flinch away from the lunchbox, embarrassed. Insulting him brought him to life.

The comfort you'd been craving for the past three days materialized in the physical embodiment of the person you were supposedly angry at. It’s hard to summon even a trace of it now, not when the person you’d been aching for is standing a few feet away, just shy out of reach.

“Why are you awake?” Katsuki starts, uncharacteristically soft, gratingly rough like left unused for a while.

“Why are you here?” you ask instead. You refuse to admit outright that you couldn’t sleep without him — refuse to admit that it’s what’s been eating you up since the fight.

Katsuki frowns. “This is my place too.”

“What?” You’re not even mad. You’re just — “I thought you crashed at Kirishima’s house this entire time.”

“I’m not just gonna—” Katsuki bites his tongue, looking off to the side. He continues drying his hair, the biceps of his arm rippling. “Been sleeping on the couch. So I didn’t wake you up, or whatever.”

Well, you don’t know what to feel. Are you supposed to feel excited that Katsuki still came home even when you both unspokenly swore not to face each other? Furious that he hasn’t tried to apologize and instead snuck around the apartment like a thief on a hit-and-run in the dead of the night?

Maybe both. You might just be relieved that he didn’t hate you enough to keep himself away, even if he didn’t crawl up in the same bed.

“Right,” you say in a soft exhale. “Okay.”

Katsuki’s eyes flick up to you again warily, dangerously still. You don’t know what to say to him, so you keep quiet. Red eagerly follows as you reach for his lunchbox and pad over to the kitchen sink. As if sensing his response, you spare him a glance.

“I’ll do it,” you say. “I’ll wash this. Go change.”

You face away from the bedroom with purpose, scrubbing diligently. Soon enough, his footsteps sound across the silent apartment, fading to your bedroom. His closet is there, meaning his clothes are stacked in it, too. You wonder if he’s ever looked at you asleep and thought it looked as empty as you felt it was.

After you rinse off the suds and wipe the excess water on the towel hanging over the stove, Katsuki greets you with a sight of him resting against the bedroom door frame. How rude. You’d given him a free pass, and he’s blocking you off in return.

“Katsuki,” you mutter, walking closer.

He stares, tracing the curve of your cheek and the swell of your mouth. You missed him, too. Now that he’s here, emanating heat, the vestiges of lethargy wriggle back into the bones of your body. You long for your bed; you long to take him along with you.

“D’you wanna talk about it?” Katsuki rasps out.

“Not right now.” You shake your head. “Not really.”

“Okay,” says Katsuki softly, shifting to shuffle past you.

You latch onto his wrist, trying your best to keep his gaze. “Sleep on the bed.”

Katsuki freezes, then turns and gazes into your eyes searchingly. You hope you can convey well enough that you hate him for fueling your bubbling fury, for sharing the heated remarks; most of all, you hate him for leaving.

“Okay,” Katsuki says again. “Okay, yeah. Let’s go to bed.”

Somehow, you end up on the bed with Katsuki’s arms caged around you from behind. His breaths hot against the nape of your neck, your body warmed head to toe. He has one leg in between your thighs, pulling you closer, and closer, until you can almost cry from how good it feels to be back here. You’ve given him an inch and knew he would take a mile.

“I don’t like when we fight,” Katsuki grumbles, sounding half-asleep.

“Mm.”

“So let’s just forget about it.”

“Is that healthy?”

“Dunno. Don’t care.” Katsuki’s mouth hovers over your neck, teeth marks a threat. “What’s unhealthy are the bags under my fuckin’ eyes.”

You laugh, breathy, and a violent shudder courses through Katsuki. You turn to your side to meet Katsuki’s little scowl, a pout. For every villain and civilian’s worst nightmare, he’s really charming. 

“Are you only trying to make it up to me so you don’t have to take up the couch?”

Katsuki would usually fire back with a snark, but this time, you get to watch as his eyes soften and his shoulders lose their tension. He hides it away with a large hand on your face in the guise of tousling your hair.

“No,” he murmurs, “can’t sleep without you.”

Your eyes slip shut, giddy like it’s your first date. “Then I guess our feelings are still mutual.”

[targaryen-dynasty]

SET ME ALIGHT AGAIN.

Cregan Stark x female!Targaryen!Reader (Part 2 here)

"It was on request of your younger brother's small council that Lord Cregan Stark agreed to take you to the North with him to prevent you from succumbing to grief like your aunt did. And now it's at his hands that the haze in your eyes is replaced by an emotion you haven't felt in so long, an emotion he’s giving back to you. And you let it flood you."

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MDNI; p in v, oral (fem receiving), angst (?), breeding kink, size kink, size difference, romantic fucking in front of the fireplace, afab reader, post dance of the dragons

WORDS: 4.8 K

NOTES: I dedicate this to @sylasthegrim. You're not only one of the few people I really grew fond of in the short time we truly got to know each other, but since both our minds basically came down to the same idea, this is for you! Thanks for beta reading this. 💕

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

You’ve been in Winterfell for a moon’s turn by now, and have quickly noticed that the ancestral castle possesses a beauty and calmness the Red Keep can be jealous of. But even that isn’t enough to make you feel at home – as if you could ever call a place your home again. Not after you’ve witnessed almost everyone in your family, no matter whether you liked them or not, perish at the hands of each other. 

It was on request of your younger brother, now dubbed King Aegon the third, or rather of his small council that Lord Cregan Stark agreed to take you to the North with him to prevent you from succumbing to grief like your aunt did. And while you’re grateful for the chance to flee the one place that has caused you more hurt than good, riding in a carriage up to the far North like a commoner wasn’t exactly pleasant. 

But how else should you have gotten there when your precious mount died along its kind as the common people stormed the Dragonpit?

For the past month, you’ve very rarely seen the sun – or anyone else than your maids. 

Your days are spent in your chambers, not leaving the safety of the Guest House as you often try to find the sleep you can’t seem to get at night. And during the night, when the Hour of the Owl strikes and no light other than that of the moon reaches Winterfell, one often finds you wandering the quiet halls of the castle. Sometimes one even spots you outside in the Godswood, regardless of the low temperatures that make the three pools fed by an underground hot spring look even more inviting. 

But warmth and comfort are never what you’re after. 

You feel incredibly daring tonight, sitting beneath the ancient weirwood tree on one of its roots. Although there is a thick fur coat draped around your frame, the thin nightgown beneath does not allow you to be kept as warm as one usually desires, your bare feet hidden inside of the coat not a big help either. 

Tiptoeing barefoot through the snow was the hardest part, but it was worth it as it gave you exactly what your body longs for. 

You’re far too absorbed by the reflection of the moon dancing on the pool of black water beneath the tree, and the peaceful allure of the snow-covered night that you don’t notice you’re not alone anymore.  

“Princess?” a husky voice rings out from the shadows, one you’d even recognize in a room full of loud and drunken men. 

Almost as if he doesn’t want to startle you, the tall frame of the Lord of Winterfell approaches you without any sudden moves, becoming more visible with the moonlight shining down on him. “What are you doing out here this late?”

Only when he’s stopping not far away from you do you avert your eyes from him to the water again. “I could ask you the same, Lord Stark,” you reply softly. 

A chuckle rumbles in his chest at your remark, and you can’t help the tint of heat hearing it brings to your cheeks. “Indeed you could,” he says. “I have not slept well, and the night has a peaceful allure. But you should not be out in the open without any guards, especially not this late at night.”

You drag your index finger through the snow at your side, drawing a mindless pattern in the dark as you do not pay any mind to his words. “And why is that, Lord Stark?” you ask, a certain snarkiness to your tone. “There is nothing worse that could happen to me than what I have already endured.”

Cregan sighs, and even in the dim light you can make out that he’s scratching his stubble covered chin. “And yet, should something else happen to you, I would not like myself for neglecting you and not protecting you just as I have sworn to the king,” he explains. “Besides, there is a cold chill in the air that I can not believe you are not feeling right now.”

“Perhaps that is the answer you’ve been looking for, my lord,” you mumble. “Perhaps I came here to feel something.”

The Wolf of the North doesn’t immediately answer you. Instead, there lingers a pause between you. But it’s not uncomfortable or feels as though it doesn't pass, no, you find yourself to actually enjoy his company. 

His next words, however, even surprise you as you didn’t think he was capable of it. “Feeling the cold of the snow has its way to make one feel alive, that much is true,” he agrees, and then looks up to the dark sky. “You wish to feel something else than the pain of the absence of the people you’ve lost in this war, I understand… I think.”

His words make the feeling of emptiness, the hollowing ache of loss just worse, while at the same time, he seems to know the feeling of craving pain when you’re just so used to it. 

“This cold bite, the chill that lingers on the skin — no one should want to feel it, Princess. It makes even my bones shake, do you know that? Surely you must be shivering, and we should be getting you inside. I should be getting you inside.”

You know he‘s right. While his words are blunt in nature, they are very much that of truth. You shouldn’t be out here, nor should you want to be out here. There‘s nothing to enjoy about this cold chill and the snow, not when you‘re as sparsely dressed as you are. You‘re not yet used to the chill of Winterfell, of the North. 

Cregan offers you his hand, but you‘re still hesitant to take it. Albeit you reach out, your significantly smaller hand hovers over his, not yet grabbing it. “You‘re not exactly wearing proper attire to be out in this wretched cold for very long,“ he remarks. “Let me help you get up, your feet must be in agony by now.“

“And what if I don‘t want to?“

“Then I will still get you up.“ There is a tinge of amusement in his voice now, seeing this little bit of rebelliousness from you, your strength of mind. Even if he doesn’t exactly approve of it. “I shall simply pick you up myself, throw you over my shoulder, and carry you inside to your chambers, even though I‘d get you quite angry and don‘t imagine you want me to do just that.“

You don’t believe he actually has the gumption to do something like that at first, although you know he’s able to muster a decent amount of strength that would easily allow him to lift you up. But then, you wonder if he would truly do it if challenged. “Try that, if you dare, my lord.”

He lets out a snort of amusement, enjoying the teasing that slowly shapes between you two. It still is a challenge, and as a man of his station, he could never let words like this go unspoken. “Oh, I dare, Princess.” 

Putting forth his arm, he wraps his fingers around your wrist and easily pulls you forwards onto your feet without applying too much pressure. You’re certainly caught off guard by his actual willingness to lift you up, and a squeal escapes your lips before you’re tossed on his strong shoulder as if you are some silly, helpless girl. 

Cregan carries you through the Godswood and towards the Guest House, though you don’t resist too much as you’re hanging there over his shoulder – a part of you is grateful you don’t have to walk through the snow with your bare feet once more. 

“Lord Stark, put me down at once!” you demand with a little twinge of laughter in your voice. You feel so light, much lighter than you imagine he’s used to lifting up, almost as if it’s taken all of the pressure off your shoulders. 

But when there doesn’t come an answer from him, you grow slightly frustrated. “What if anyone sees, you madman!” you remark, embarrassment warming your cheeks. 

“Madman? That’s rich coming from the woman who was willing to freeze to death in the snow,” he says jokingly, approaching the large doors. “Who do you think could see us at this hour, princess? The rats? And what if they do? What if someone sees me carrying the poor princess, who had the gall to get out of her bed after midnight and wander the Godswood while in her nightgown?” Although there is amusement in his voice, you also notice the faintest hint of flirtation laced within. “Will they judge me for carrying her, or would they judge her for her imprudent midnight excursion?”

You stay silent thrown over his shoulder, not sure how to reply. You thought you had a good comeback, but it seems Cregan is one step ahead of you. The flirtatious teasing you’ve heard catches you off guard, not expecting to hear it from him at all. It makes your cheeks flush with even more embarrassment when you notice that he’s actually right. But you don’t want to admit the truth in what he’s said. 

“You mock me, but you shall see there would be much scandal if someone were to see this,” you retort, trying to keep calm as you’re now a little bit flustered by these sudden developments. “Besides,” you say, trying to remain unbothered and nonchalant, “who says I won’t tell a tale of you being the imprudent one?”

“Ah, you little rascal,” Cregan replies with a chuckle, giving your thigh a tight squeeze. “I see you’d find a way to turn the tides and have it end up with me being the bad guy, taking my chances on a vulnerable woman in the guise of protecting her.”

You’re clearly enjoying the teasing a tad too much, enjoying these quick and witty back-to-backs with him, taking your mind off of your grief. Drawing in a deep breath, you hold onto Cregan’s thick coat. “What would you have been protecting me from, Lord Stark?” you ask with feigned innocence. “Were the trees too menacing that you just had to sweep me off my feet to carry me away from their clutches?”

“No, I am afraid it was not the trees that had me worried, Princess,” Cregan replies as he brings you further into the Guest House, easily opening the door to the sleeping quarters with one hand. “The cold was the greater menace, and it had you in its grasp.”

Your words die in your throat when he puts you down on your bed, the soft furs very welcomed beneath your cold feet. You look up at him with wide eyes and a heaving chest as he towers over your significantly smaller frame, and you wait for him to make the next move. 

There’s a moment of silence between you, obviously he’s considering his next words. 

And boy do they disappoint you. “I shall make sure a fire is lit for you to warm yourself, princess,” he says, turning around to approach the hearth on the other side of the room. 

Cregan crouches down to build and start a small fire in the hearth that should last the night, not wanting you to stay too cold. But you wouldn’t be a thoroughbred dragon if it didn’t mean for you to take any risks. And so you get onto your cold feet, the coat still draped around your shoulders sliding down to the ground. 

Feeling a bit too exposed too quickly, you grab one of the thick fur blankets laying on your bed instead and wrap it around your frame, before you tiptoe towards the large wolf kneeling in front of the fireplace. 

“I have something different in mind,” you speak softly. Cregan, startled by your words and your sudden approach, turns around and faces you as he rises to his feet. You reach and bury your hands in the collar of his coat, the blanket falling to the ground in the process, and when you use your grip to pull him close, you find that he does not shy away in the least – if anything, he follows the tug to connect your lips in a heated kiss. 

He brings his large hands to your waist with ease, and presses his body against yours. The wolf feels like he’s drowning in you, in your lips, your warmth, your presence and scent. Wanting to lose himself in the moment, in you, his hands wander lower to your hips. 

“I did not expect you to do this tonight,” he breathes against your lips, breaking the silence. 

“And I did not expect some things from you tonight either,” you reply, breathlessly, voice breaking with every breath you take. “Is that a bad thing?”

His voice is low and smooth as he speaks, shaking his head. “Quite the contrary.” There is a flirtatious smile on his lips, and a playfulness you haven’t seen before in his gray eyes. It’s as if that small spark between you has quickly evolved into an inferno that now burns bright in the both of you. 

It’s a fierce and burning kiss when your lips connect once more, fueled by the fires coursing through your veins. You release a soft whimper with his large paws trailing over your sides, feeling the fabric of your nightgown. 

“If we continue this, I won’t be able to stop myself,” he rasps.

You tilt your head back to look at him, a cheeky grin on your lips. “Perhaps I do not want you to.”

Cregan’s eyebrows raise at your reply, and you feel his hands tighten around your waist once more. He can’t help but feel a jolt of arousal run down his back, which prompts him to release a low chuckle. “Well, if you wish for it that much…” he whispers in response, before pulling you back toward him, kissing you passionately. 

A breathless chuckle slips past your lips as you pull back from him, licking your kiss swollen lips. “But there are a few things we need to get you out of first,” you tease, tugging at the thick, furry coat that’s draped over his broad shoulders. 

“Are you this eager to have your hands over all of me?” he replies with a flirtatious smirk, but still unclips the coat and lets it fall to the ground. He doesn’t mind you seeming quite intent to get him out of his armor, allowing you to fumble with the clasps and buckles, and eventually helps you remove the heavy bits until he’s left wearing nothing but his breeches. But even those are quickly unlaced by you, left to be a puddle around his feet. 

“My my, do you not feel a little too hot still, Lord Stark?” you tease, letting your fingers wander over his exposed stomach. You can’t help but feel warmth creeping onto your cheeks as you see him in such little clothing, so exposed. He’s a muscular man, tall and large, and the sight of his bare skin with the dark of hair on his chest and a trail of it running below his undergarments is a welcoming one. 

Through the linen you see that he’s already hard and begging, waiting for you to take things further. Truly a shame you seem to relish in the teasing. 

Goosebumps prickle on his skin in the wake of your finger, making you smile. You drag your finger along the waistband of his undergarments, hooking it beneath to tug on it. He knows what you desire, and he’s not ashamed to give you just that. “I do not see you so eager to remove your own clothes, Princess,” he teases, undoing the laces in the front for his undergarments to join his breeches. “It is hardly fair you want to see all of me, yet I am not allowed to do the same.”

You take in a sharp breath at the sight of his hard cock, standing to full attention. It has you licking your lips. Batting your eyelashes at him, you’re quick to pull your nightgown over your head, a smirk on your lips. A flimsy piece of linen conceals what lies between your legs, but it’s still enough for him to all but devour your almost bare frame. 

“There,” you whisper, “now we are on equal grounds.”

Cregan takes a moment to look over you, licking his lips at the sight of your breasts fully exposed mto him. He knows you’re no maiden who’s completely untouched, you wouldn’t be as confident if you were, but it doesn’t stop him from appreciating the sight in front of him. 

“Equal grounds, truly?” he asks you, taking a step toward you. One arm snakes around your waist, pulling you against him, as his other hand fists the linen of your smallclothes. “I think you still have an advantage over me, Princess. Because I have yet to see what lies beneath your undergarments.”

Your palms rest flatly against his chest, and you press a chaste kiss to his skin. “I will not stop you, Lord Stark,” you whisper, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. 

“Then let’s make these ‘equal grounds’ a little bit more equal, hm?” Cregan whispers as well. He sinks to his knees with his mouth trailing a path down your body, licking and kissing over your skin until he reaches your navel. His large hands trail over your sides and thighs on his way down, the movement and sight making your breath hitch in your throat. 

A shudder ripples through your body as he tugs your smallclothes down your legs, and while you watch him with your hands buried in his dark curls, his eyes are all but focused on what’s between your legs. 

He drapes one of your legs over his broad shoulder, his dark blown eyes darting up to meet yours, and before you can make any teasing remark, his mouth is on you. A gasp catches in your throat. “Cregan, please,” you whimper, forgetting all courtesies the moment his tongue drags through your slit. There’s no softness, no gentleness in the way he all but devours your cunt, the previous teasing having made his patience run thin. 

Your head tips back in pleasure as his tongue alternates between sliding into you and swirling around your pearl, noticing both options have you grind your hips against his face. The tip of his nose rubs so perfectly against your pearl when his mouth pays attention to your entrance, and Cregan’s fingers dig into your flesh with your body tensing up already, keeping you steady. 

The Wolf of the North growls against your cunt as if he’s truly turned into one, devouring you with all he’s got, the sheer pleasure brought by his tongue and lips taking over you. 

As you look down at him again, you find him already staring up at you, watching you carefully as you slowly but surely unravel on his tongue. It’s intense, but you’re captivated enough not to break eye contact. 

“Gods, yes, I–” you whimper, and fall apart all over his tongue with a shudder. If it wasn’t for Cregan’s paws on your body, you would have lost balance by now, especially with the way he seemed to work his tongue in and out of you faster just in rhythm to his nose rubbing your pearl. 

He pulls away from you slowly as your peak subsides, and with his beard and lips glistening with the remnants of your arousal, how could you not pounce on him right then and there?

He supports his body with one arm placed on the ground and stretches his legs as you push yourself against him, wrapping your arms around his strong neck. The taste of yourself on his tongue makes you moan against his lips before you deepen the kiss. 

Cregan’s hard cock is nestled between your bodies, and you can’t resist wrapping your hand around it, stroking him once, twice, before you shift your hips and slowly sink down on him. 

Muscular arms completely wrap around your waist, making you very well aware of the size difference between the two of you. You’re significantly smaller than him, and relish in the feeling of being safe and protected with him around. You two haven’t been too close upon your arrival in the North, but it seems that there has been a hidden attraction lingering for quite some time. 

You know your hips would sooner or later become sore from pumping him with your core, hence you stick to rocking your hips back and forth with his cock stuffed deep inside you. It’s intimate and slow, but with the coarse hairs around the base of his cock dragging over your pearl with each swivel of your hips, you’re still racing for completion. 

While he mouths along your jaw and the curve of your throat, one of his hands comes up to cup your breast. Rolling the perky bud between his index finger and thumb, the slight sting works wonders to amplify the pleasure coursing through your veins. 

“By the Seven,” you whimper, grinding your hips against him with more determination. 

There comes a sharp hiss in return from him, barely audible between the open mouthed kisses he presses to your collar bones. You’re clawing at his shoulders and neck by now, scratching it despite the sensuality of your movements, and it feels as though you’re even drawing blood. But he doesn’t care about that – he rather enjoys having a woman that doesn’t hold back. 

Trailing his lips up to your throat, he nudges your chin with his nose, prompting you to tip your head back. “It’s not them you need to pray to right now, Princess,” Cregan rasps, a clear strain to his voice. “But perhaps I should take that as a compliment, hm?”

His words cause you to chuckle, and you’re grateful that he’s quickly distracted by kissing your throat again, because otherwise he might have noticed the heat his words bring to your cheeks. “If that is…” you trail off panting, burying your hand in his curls to tug his head back, forcing him to look up at you. The sight of his dark blown eyes hungrily gazing at you sends a shiver down your spine. You feel desired. “If that is a compliment, then I shall have to say it much more often.”

You’re not sure if it’s the fact you state wanting to compliment him more often, or if he’s just not used to having an appreciative lover in general, but your words seem to flip a switch inside of him. You quickly find yourself lowered on the fur blankets, warming your back while the flames heat up your skin and Cregan your blood. 

Nestled between your legs, he’s growing more determined now, the sensual rocking of your hips clearly not enough for him, but you don’t mind it. As much as you enjoy being in control, setting the tone, you also revel in following the lead. 

He’s propped up on one elbow, supporting himself as he thrusts into you, rolling his hips that make his cock drag so expertly against the sweet spot inside of you. 

With one hand, you hold onto his broad shoulder, digging your nails into his skin, while the other gropes at his chest, teasing his bud just like he’s done with yours before. The feeling of his coarse hairs beneath your fingers feels somewhat strange at first, for Aemond hasn’t had as much chest hair as Cregan does, but it’s also comforting. 

The familiar coil in the pit of your belly tightens slowly with his hips snapping into yours over and over again, split open by his hard cock.  

“Will you fill me up, my lord?” you moan breathily, arching your back with your breasts pressing against his sturdy frame. 

Cregan releases a choked groan at the question, and for a moment you can feel his hips stutter. You briefly wonder if you’ve pushed your luck too far, especially with him not replying immediately, until his raspy voice cuts through the heavy pants and moans. 

“Only if you let me take you to wife, Princess.” 

You inevitably clench down around him as a small, hiccuped gasp catches in your throat, resulting in Cregan drawing in a sharp breath. The haze in your eyes is replaced by an emotion you haven't felt in so long, an emotion he’s now giving back to you. And you let it flood you. 

Your hand comes from his chest to his biceps, holding onto it as you gather your thoughts. His hips haven’t slowed down one bit, and he’s truly expecting you to answer as if he wasn’t repeatedly impaling you on his cock right now. 

Staring up at him with wide eyes, your voice isn’t any louder than a whisper. “It would be foolish of me to turn this offer down,” you reply.

An impish smirk dances along Cregan’s features. “Is that meant to be a yes?”

“Y-Yes, it is, “ you whimper beneath him, arching your back once more. 

The warmth of his body, his weight and scent cloud your every being, and his thrusts are determined and harsh enough to render you speechless, your mind and body completely claimed by him. 

His hand snakes between your bodies, aiming for your sensitive pearl. Though the coarse hair around his cock has granted you at least a bit of friction, it’s not enough to bring you to your peak. His thumb circles over the little bud, fully coated with your arousal, and the thread in your belly is close to snapping. 

“Then I just might,” he grunts in return. 

Your body jerks at the sudden touch, but his muscular frame between your legs is enough to keep you pinned to the ground. “I need you… Cregan,” you whimper, bringing a hand behind his head to pull him down for a heated kiss. Your lips hardly part to release whimpers and moans, swallowing each other’s sounds of pleasure without any shame. “Let me give you a spare.”

It appears that your words give him a new-found vigor that leaves you gasping, the pace of his hips increasing. As you start to roll your hips against his thumb, you not only create some friction that feeds your pleasure but his as well. It’s not long after that your peak washes over you with a soft gasp, walls clenching around him like a vice. 

With your small frame trembling between his strong arms, Cregan releases a strained grunt, his own peak being milked out of him by your cunt fluttering around his cock. He keeps on dragging his thumb over your sensitive pearl, prolonging your peak and the pleasure that comes with it.

You stare up at him with wide eyes as you’re milking him for every drop, because there’s something so vulnerable in this wolf of a man, towering over you with his skin glistening with sweat, so desperate to fill you with his seed and breed you. 

The last jolts of his peak force him to languidly rut his hips into yours, desperately chasing the feeling of bliss that courses through your veins. His chest heaves with every heavy breath he takes, and the dark curls are damp and fall into his face. 

Only as Cregan is certain there’s not one drop of his seed left inside of him does he slowly stop his ministrations, and the hand that has toyed with your bud seizes your hips, stilling them.

His erratic breaths fans over your sweaty skin with his lips pressing to your temple. The feeling of being whole with him doesn’t leave you, not when his weight pins you down and keeps you grounded, easing your tumbled mind.  

“I shall welcome the arrival of any child you bear me,” Cregan says, inevitably breaking the silence. 

A smile spreads across your lips as you wrap your legs around his hips, and your arms around his neck. “Be careful what you wish for. My children will certainly be just as stubborn as me.”

His heart is practically pounding against his ribs, and he can feel himself on the verge of being lost by your touch alone again. You make him go wild and feral, your bold and flirtatious nature bringing out another side to him that’s completely unexpected. And yet it feels so right.  

The teasing banter brings a smile to his lips and a light to his gray eyes, your wit and humor shining through. “Let them be stubborn, then,” he chuckles, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “They only need to be half as feisty as you, and I shall be the happiest man in Winterfell.”

[starlooove]

No bc Jon makes me SO SAD like idk man the fact that it isn’t even just someone who looks like his dad but technically WAS his dad that did all that to him like imagine him having a nightmare or smth and Clark goes to help him out cause obviously and Jon gets MORE scared bc the person he’s looking at isn’t his dad who’d die before hurting him, but his captor of YEARS back in his room

[gay-dorito-dust]

hii!! I don't know if your requests are open but I love the way you write for the Batboys so I thought I'd request something ^-^

The batboys reacting to their s/o not saying "I love you" back when they end a call. This tiktok for reference.

(In case the link doesn't work https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLW4JWj1/)

Idk if you'll see this but thank you!!

Dick

‘I’ll see you soon honey, I love you.’ Dick said on the other side of the phone.

‘See you soon, bye.’ You said cheerfully as you hung up the phone, trying your hardest not to break down with laughter. You could clearly see Dick’s face within your mind, looking down at his phone with the expression of a confused husky dog, head tilted to the side and a pout spread across his face.

For not once had you ever not said ‘I love you’ to Dick when ending a phone call, even when you were annoyed with him you still told him that you loved him, so this was completely out of the ordinary for you and you knew that Dick knew that too.

Which is why he was quick to call you back.

‘Hi! Yeah this is your BOYFRIEND speaking, you know the one you love and are devoted to loving for all of eternity, so do you not love me anymore now or?’

‘Of course I do what makes you think that sweetheart?’ You asked, trying not to laugh at Dick’s dramatics.

‘Well it doesn’t sound like it.’ You could practically hear him huffing. ‘I just want to be loved is that so much to ask for?’ He asks rhetorically.

‘Dick, you’re being dramatic.’ You tell him and he gasps on the other side. ‘Me dramatic? Never! All I ask is for my beautiful, stunning and perfect partner to say they love me before I go kick some ass, but no I’m asking too much apparently.’ Dick then huffs. ‘How mean.’ You heard him mutter under his breath.

‘Fine I love you! I love you very much so go kick all the asses for my honey! I love, love, love you!’ You practically shouted down the phone. ‘How was that for you mr dramatic?’ You add.

‘Mr dramatic loves you too very much.’ Was all he said before hanging up.

Dick never liked it when you didn’t say I love you, he gets very upset and doesn’t want to do anything else until you concede and tell him you love him as though your life depended on it. He was indeed a dramatic man.

Tim

‘Don’t stay up too late for me, I’ll be home soon I love you.’ He said.

‘Okay bye.’ Was all you replied with before hanging up the phone.

Tim knew damn well you weren’t doing much but hold back your laughter when you put down the phone after not saying ‘I love you’ like you normally did, and so through the process of elimination did Tim eventually come to the conclusion that this was all an elaborate prank.

‘I know this is a prank, you can cut it out now.’ Tim tells you the moment you picked up the phone.

‘Prank? Why would you think this is a prank?’ You asked.

‘You’ve not once forgot to tell me you love me in our past calls, so for you to do it now only is an indication of two things, one it’s a prank or I’ve done something wrong.’ He told you with certainty in his deduction.

You raised a brow. ‘And what makes you think that you didn’t do something wrong and I’m not mad at you?’ You were the one to ask this time as you could practically hear him think.

‘Because I didn’t.’ Was his only reply and you couldn’t help but giggle as you ask again. ‘Are you sure?’

Silence for a couple of second were what you were greeted with before being greeted with a ‘I’m a hundred percent certain.’

You sighed. ‘You’re right, it’s a prank, I’m sorry but I hope this I love you will set things right. So here it is: I love you Tim Drake.’

More silence and you were worried for a second before you heard him say ‘I love you too, don’t stay up too late for me please, we both can’t be sleep deprived that’s only reserved for me.’

Tim knew, he always does so there’s no point trying to prank him because he’ll know unless he’s caught off guard, though he won’t tell you is that he nearly shit himself when you didn’t and though he did something when he begin to think logically.

Jason

‘Okay I’ve got to head out on patrol now with Roy, I’ll see you as soon as I’m done chipmunk, I love you.’

‘See you soon jaybirdie, bye.’ You replied before quickly putting the phone done but as soon as you did, mentally counting down from three and when you got to one, your phone flashed with Jason’s contact almost immediately.

You knew he wasn’t going to let that slide once you started this little prank and he played right into your hands.

‘What was that.’ He asks.

‘What was what.’ You replied, acting as though you were confused.

‘You know what, the whole not saying I love you. it’s kind of out thing and so for you to not saying it is kinda throwing me off my grove, and Roy won’t stop saying how much of a simp I am. What even is a simp anyway?’ You couldn’t help but feel your smile grow wider at Jason’s rant and let out a small chuckle.

‘I’m sure Roy can tell you what a simp is, but I don’t see how me not saying I love you once is enough to throw you complete of your game.’ You replied as you could almost hear Roy laugh.

Jason sighs and you could imagine him rubbing his forehead. ‘Can you, can you just say it so I’m not thinking about it for the rest of the night, I don’t feel like bleeding out on our bathroom floor tonight.’ He says and you couldn’t help but feel yourself bend to his will a little before completely yielding entirely.

‘Fine, if it’ll make you feel better, I love you.’ You said and you could tell that took the weight off of his shoulders.

‘Thanks chipmunk, I love you.’ He said before hanging up, finally content to see the patrol through with a clear mind.

Needless to say Jason internally overthought himself when you didn’t say I love you once, it nearly drove the poor man insane and into doing something reckless. So it was good that you did say it when you did.

[vampcubus]

𝐊𝐍𝐘 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐇𝐂𝐒

a/n: i've been fussing over these for weeks just take 'em ;-;

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 : inosuke, tanjiro, zenitsu, kyojuro, and tengen + wives.

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : sfw, references to marriage and children.

𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐀

— Inosuke is not used to sleeping with other people, and you can tell he’s never been cuddled either. He tenses up and wriggles away the first time you attempt to spoon him in your sleep.

“You really don’t want to cuddle, Inosuke?” you sighed dejectedly.

“Why would I?!” 

You make a sad face and shuffle back to your own bedroll. With Inosuke’s usual total disregard for personal space, you’d thought he wouldn’t mind if you swooped in for a cuddle. He’s very much like a cat in that regard, he only wanted to be touched on his terms.

There’s a moment of silence before you hear grumbling and shuffling, and the next thing you know he’s pressed to your side, the fur of his mask tickling your chin as he tucks his “face” into the crook of your neck.

— Refuses to sleep any other way after that.

— He’ll act betrayed when you take naps without him when he’s readily available. “You took a nap without me?!” his heart is shattered, how could you?

— God forbid one or both of you are injured and get put in separate rooms because as soon as he wakes, he’s sneaking out to crawl into your bed with you. No amount of scolding from you or Shinobu is gonna keep him away for long.

— Tends to spoon you subconsciously, either slipping a leg between yours or wrapping it around you n holding onto you like a backpack. 

— He moves around a lot in his sleep, so prepare to wake up with a foot in your face or from getting kicked. Especially if he’s having particularly engaging dreams, you may or may not be mistaken for some all-powerful beast for Inosuke to conquer in dreamland.

— Inosuke is so god damn hyper in the morning and it can be a lot, especially since he wants you to be up too so you can start a new day together. It’s hard to keep up with his enthusiasm, and sometimes you just turn over and cover your ears with a pillow to drown him out. Most times that'll get your blankets yoinked, and you’ll be beaten to death (not really) with that same pillow.

“HEY DON’T IGNORE ME! WAKE UP!”

— Though sometimes he can be soft. You’ll wake up to a strange weight on your tummy and find him sitting there, staring at you like a cat waiting for its owner to wake up. And sometimes he’ll just lay back down, covering you with his body and nuzzling his face into your neck. And if you lift a heavy hand to play idly with his hair, he might just fall back asleep again.

𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐎

— A cuddle bug that wants nothing more than to snuggle up on the futon with you after a long night of demon slaying.

— He’s the type to scoot closer if you move away in your sleep since he will wake up if he doesn’t feel you there anymore.

— Please spoon him. You will not regret it for a moment. He runs warm and is the perfect size for cuddling! Tan sighs so happily when you pull him against you, tucking his head right beneath your chin. Your comforting scent and firm embrace lull him right to sleep.

— Alternatively, he wakes up if he smells your distress, so you’ll never be alone if you have a nightmare. You don’t have to tell him what it was about, but he does insist on staying up with you to comfort you. Even when he’s struggling to keep his eyes open, he’ll pet your head and just talk to you until you’ve calmed down enough to doze off again.

— His duties as the Sun Hashira often keep him away for long periods, and he definitely misses your presence at his side when he stops to rest. It’s simply not the same without the weight of your arm strewn over his waist or the soft sounds of your breathing. He’ll even miss your snoring. That’s why he's always eager to return, all of his worries disintegrating as you gather him in your arms and murmur sweet things to him until he nods off.

— In the summer months, he’ll understand if you don’t want to cuddle, but he’ll want to at least hold your hand. 

— Settling down for the night together is a cherished ritual and he wants to be a part of it. Whether it’s taking pins or accessories out of your hair, or putting it into a protective style for sleeping, he wants to help out. He’s also damn good at giving massages and head rubs, so never be afraid to ask if you need a little more help winding down. That man lives to dote on you.

— Tanjiro rarely has the heart to wake you up early, but he makes you breakfast and leaves notes around your home if he’s gotta run somewhere. He melts into a puddle if he finds you making breakfast early in the morning, domesticity really does it for him.

𝐙𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐀

— You’ve married a cryptid. I'm so sorry.

— Zenitsu sleepwalks as I’m sure you can imagine. You’ll wake up to him out of bed, standing ominously in the middle of the room.

“Zenitsu honey, come back to bed,” you’d murmur tiredly after the initial shock wears off. Even asleep he bends to your will, crawling back onto the futon to sidle up against you once more. 

— Other times you’ll hear noises coming from the kitchen and find him making a whole meal in his goddamn sleep. Which is quite adorable, but also dangerous like pls you’re going to hurt yourself.

— The times he’s not wandering about, he’s snuggled up to you as close as he can get, face buried in your chest or neck, arms and legs wrapped around you.

— He snores if he’s on his back but it’s soft enough to sleep through.

— Giggles in his sleep if he’s having a good dream (he always says all the best ones are of you ❤︎)

— Zenitsu tends to sleep sprawled out on top of you. Oftentimes he returns from a long day of demon slaying, crawls right on top of you, and crashes for several hours. 

— He’s your weighted blanket <333

— Zenitsu never wants either of you to leave the bed in the mornings. He’ll cling, whine, and plead for “five more minutes.” (but it’s always much longer than that) 

— Sometimes you can coax him to release the death grip around your waist with promises of his favorite breakfast or endless kisses, other times you’ll just have to cope with being late to places.

𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔

— Deep sleeper!! with you anyways. As soon as he’s out, very little will wake him.

— Kyo’s definitely a cuddler! And the best suited for it too since he radiates heat like a furnace. It’s stifling during the summer months, but he truly can’t bear to be parted from you. Sleeping light or nude would be best, not like you’ll have to worry about getting cold when your husband is a literal space heater. 

— He’s an absolute dream during the colder months, and you know he takes full advantage of the weather as an excuse to snuggle every second of the day.

— Mumbles in his sleep every now and then. It’s usually gibberish or a breathy chuckle, but sometimes you can discern whispers of “tasty” and bits and pieces of your name.

— Kyojuro becomes reliant on your presence to sleep over time. It happened so slowly he didn’t realize his dependency until he found himself lying wide awake and restless out in the field. 

— He swore he could fall asleep anywhere before he met you but now… now he needs the sound of your soft snores next to his ear. He needs the feeling of your warm body against his. How was he supposed to sleep without someone there to hog the blanket? or crawl on top of him in the middle of the night when close just wasn’t close enough?

— Worst of all, you aren’t there to pet his hair and whisper sweet nothings to him as he wakes up — it’s those moments he wouldn’t trade for the world. You always treat him with such care, allowing yourself to be held hostage in bed until he also awoke, even when his profession meant his rest stretched on into the afternoon hours.

“The Flame Hashira lives!” you’d sing playfully as he blinks the film of sleep from his eyes, staring up at you with nothing but love and adoration. You’d lean down to kiss his lonely forehead, but not before purring your eagerly awaited utterance of “Good morning, baby.”

His eyes flutter closed as your lips brush over his forehead, grinning so widely his cheeks dimple.

“G’morning, darling flame,” he’d rasp in that rumbly morning voice that makes your cheeks feel warm. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

— Kyojuro tends to nod off while he’s got his head resting on your lap during dates, especially if you start playing with his hair. He wakes up later to find you’ve also drifted off while sitting up, slumped forward just slightly. Your hair frames your face, the late afternoon sun casting an ethereal glow onto you.

— Napping together is quite a regular occurrence, especially when your duties tend to keep you up during the evening hours. If you’re a slayer too, your sleep schedules match up rather nicely, meaning you’ll be frequently found in a tangle of limbs somewhere.

— If you have children, you’ll often find them knocked out cold with their father. (he’s the type to fall asleep with a baby on his chest) it’s the kind of scene that puts tears in your eyes and makes you sink to your knees. It’s all too tempting to join the cuddle pile with your husband and children.

𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐍 𝐔𝐙𝐔𝐈 + 𝐖𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐒

— Tengen snores, but not as loud as Suma. The two of them are making harmonies while Makio and Hinatsuru hardly make any noise at all. Though the three of you can all agree you wouldn’t be able to sleep without the sound of your lovers’ snoring after a while.

— They all say goodnight to one another which is very adorable.

“Goodnight Suma.” “Goodnight Hina.” “Goodnight Makio.” “Goodnight Lord Tengen!!” “Goodnight Y/nnnnn~”

It’s back and forth until everyone is accounted for 

— You five sleep in a tangle of limbs, but it’s the coziest cuddle pile you’ll ever sleep in. Tengen’s been married long enough not to be disturbed by shuffling or moving around since sleeping with various other people requires occasional readjusting no matter how you romanticize it.

— Suma usually demands a spot at your side so she can wrap herself around you like a koala. She does drool, but she usually looks so damned cute doing it that you don’t have the heart to move her away from your shoulder. She’s always whispering to you as everyone settles down for bed, and Makio often scolds her for giggling and keeping the others awake. 

— Prepare for those two to bicker over you, oftentimes literally. They’ll hiss and argue whilst they have their arms full of you.

— Hinatsuru sings you lullabies when you just can’t seem to sleep and plays with your hair. Her fingers scratch lovingly over your scalp, smiling as your eyelids droop further under her gentle affections and ethereal voice. You always wake up with a mouthful of her hair, but it’s so worth it.

— Makio gives excellent head rubs when you have a headache, and although she may pretend that you’re a nuisance, you can tell she enjoys taking care of her partners. She’s a big spoon and likes to hold your hand while she sleeps, blushing furiously when you raise her knuckles to your lips.

— Tengen rarely manages to snag you from his wives’ clutches for a spot at your side, but when he does he wraps his entire body around you and nearly smothers you with his heat. He cutely holds things while he sleeps so expect to wake up in a headlock. And if you’re in his clutches when he goes to roll over, you’re getting rolled over as well. It’s a bit disorienting, but he soothes you with an apologetic kiss on your temple if he wakes you.

— Tengen thinks it’s endearing that you try to hold him just like he holds everyone else, even with him being so big. You don’t seem to mind his size, wrapping yourself around him like a backpack and tucking his head under your chin.

— Mornings consist of detangling and lots and lots of kisses!

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。09:08 AM — GOJO SATORU.

contents. manga spoilers, satoru keeps the scars bc that’s character development ok, post canon, insecure! gojo / reverse comfort, you sit on his lap, ig angst to fluff, embarrassingly cheesy look away pls :,)

satoru, since he’s come home with those scars, has always evaded your hand. you’ve tried a few times, have reached out to cup those cheeks you miss holding—but he’s managed to grab your hand and kiss it every time.

it’s smooth—like everything else he does, satoru dodges your touch smoothly. with an easy grin. with a teasing glint. it’s slick and all too natural, and almost undetectable. but you know him better. you know him better than anyone has had the pleasure of knowing him, you like to think. and you know that satoru doesn’t let your hand meet his cheek, not even the edge of his jaw, on purpose.

“good morning,” you smile, reaching forward to lay a hand over his face. satoru, with his eyes still closed (as expected), grabs your hand and plants a soft kiss to the back as he hums.

you’re almost certain he can sense the way your lips tug into a frown.

“mornin’ sweetheart,” he says lowly, “watching me sleep? that’s a bit creepy,” he teases.

“i can’t help it,” you hum, “you’re too handsome.”

this is rare—giving satoru compliments easily is rare. usually, you make him work for them, keep him waiting on the tips of toes before finally giving him that praise you know will go straight to his inflated ego. but sometimes, like now, you think he deserves to hear it—unfiltered and raw and filled with truth.

satoru is handsome. always has been. always will be.

“aw,” he cracks an eye open, “maybe i should let myself get scratched up a bit more. maybe you’ll talk nice to me more often.”

“i mean it, toru,” you frown, insisting, “you’re handsome. so handsome.”

your hand reaches for his face again. he turns his head this time, feigning a yawn as he stretches before sitting up. there’s a slight bit of tension in the air now, his lips tighter in his smile as he hums before turning to you and poking your nose.

“well, aren’t you sweet,” he smiles almost bitterly.

you haven’t seen his smile reach his eyes for a while. he doesn’t meet your gaze through the mirror in the mornings as you brush your teeth together anymore, doesn’t wink at your reflection and make you roll your eyes. he doesn’t spam your camera roll with pictures of himself anymore when you’re in the bathroom, doesn’t leave you with those silly faces and smug grins that make good wallpapers. he doesn’t even crack those annoying jokes anymore, doesn’t whine for you to admit he’s the most handsome guy you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting as his face digs into your neck.

instead, satoru dodges your touch. he kisses you briefer these days, avoids looking in the mirror, smiles like he has to—not like he finds a reason to.

“you don’t believe me?” you ask gently, furrowing your brows, “you know i’d never lie to you.”

“i didn’t say that, did i?” he asks, waving a hand casually. “c’mon let’s go brush our teeth. you don’t wanna kill me with that morning breath do you—”

“satoru, you’re still handsome, you know,” you say gently. you decide to rip the bandaid off as you add, “even with these.”

for the first time, your hand manages to reach for his face without him pulling away. you think it’s more out of surprise than anything, that it’s because he wasn’t expecting you to be so straightforward instead of trying to be subtle like usual. for a second, you think he might just put his infinity up—but he doesn’t ever. not around you.

but you can see it, the way his knuckles twitch a little like he’s clenching them. the way he’s so still, it’s almost like he’s willing himself not to tense. the way he doesn’t even lean into your touch like he always does.

he doesn’t want your hand on his face, but you stroke a thumb over a scar anyway, cupping his cheek as you study his face up close.

it’s still him—still satoru with that sharp nose and those rosy cheeks, still satoru with those long lashes and perfect jawline. there’s rough, marred bits of skin that meet soft, supple ones. you feel over the dips of where each scar starts slowly, committing each one to memory.

they’re newer parts of him, ones you don’t know very well yet, ones that remind you of the ugliest parts of the world—but they’re a part of satoru now, and anything that’s a part of satoru can never be ugly. no matter where they come from, no matter what they’re a reminder of.

not if it’s him.

“you think so?” he asks with a tight grin, “is my money maker still money making?”

“don’t be greedy,” you quip, “you have plenty of money.” and then, softly, you add, “but i’d pay a good fortune or two to wake up to this every day.”

“good thing i give it to you for free,” he hums, “i’m generous, you know?”

“what a catch,” you grin, “generous, strong, rich,” you list, making an amused grin stretch across his lips, “handsome,” you add. his smile falters a bit at that. “satoru, i’m serious.”

“oh, i love when you get all serious,” he whistles. he’s deflecting—you expect him to, but you’re not backing down. one leg swings over his hips, and then you’re climbing onto his lap, right there where he can’t avoid you. but he finds his attention to your lips, still smooth as ever as he avoids meeting your eyes.

“satoru—”

“oh? you want to do this already? it’s barely—” he makes a show of glancing at the clock before turning back to you with a suggestive grin, “—nine am. but i guess we can have a little fun before—”

“i don’t care about these, you know,” you murmur, pulling your head back when he leans in for a kiss. your finger lightly traces the scar by his left cheekbone, making him frown.

“see? you’re basically admitting you have to look past them,” he groans frustratedly—it’s the first time satoru’s acknowledges his scars. it’s the first time he’s finally let himself look upset without trying to hide it behind a forced grin and a dry chuckle.

“i don’t,” you frown, “sure, they’re new,” you admit softly, “and i don’t like being reminded you got hurt. but they’re not ugly—you’re always pretty.”

“there’s so many,” he mumbles, “they’re everywhere.”

“i think they’re cool,” you shrug, “they make you look tougher. less like a spoiled princess.”

“hey,” he pouts, “i’m not spoiled.”

“you’re a bit spoiled,” you chuckle, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck—his lips quirk up, and you can’t help but notice how real it looks for once. “but i suppose you deserve it. not because you’re handsome though. because you deserve good things—just for being you,” you insist.

his lips are quivering a bit, and he’s blinking faster now. you ignore it, though, taking your sweet time as you lean down and kiss along the edges of every scar on his face, tracing your lips along where the old skin meets new.

“that’s cheesy,” he mutters, “now you sound like a therapist.”

“i mean it,” you say firmly, “and i meant it when i said you’re handsome too.“

“handsomest guy you’ve ever met, right?” he bats his lashes—they’re a bit hopeful, though, and you smile as you gently kiss the corner of his mouth before nodding.

“definitely,” you nod, “you’re the prettiest.”

“am i?” he grins, “now i’m more spoiled. who’s fault is that really?”

“i’ll allow it for today,” you snort, “today you can be spoiled. i’ll humble you tomorrow.”

“we’ll see,” he hums.

your hands cup his cheeks as you lean down for a kiss, and satoru’s hands clasp over them gently, holding them in place—and when you kiss him delicately, like the sun meets the moon as your lips touch, like your world revolves around him as you pull him closer, you think satoru is unfairly handsome.

and you’ll have to remind him that a bit more often.

he’s my liddol sourpatch :(

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹｡ see me through the morning glow | gojo satoru

wc: 1.0k summary: you and gojo have a slow morning.  contains: f!reader in mind, suggestive if you squint, food descriptions. a/n: unedited, i honestly dk what this is i just really needed to get this out of my system! this is how i cope with 236.

re-uploaded because i accidentally deleted!

You slip out of bed faced with the promise of sunlight. 

The curtains in your bedroom radiate a glow that bounces off the man lying next to you; it’s soft, near-white, almost ethereal, the color of his skin, hair, and bones. His back is exposed, arm reaching out over the (now) empty space beside him—the crinkles and folds where you once were. 

You’ve always thought your bedroom had good lighting, and now you can confirm why: in the shadows, deepening the line that runs down his spine; in the highlights, guiding your eyes to the pockets of muscle behind his shoulders. 

You look away, trying your best not to stare; the only reason he’s undressed is because of a cold sweat, from the nightmares—and the very need for skin-to-skin, to ground him in your touch. 

On mornings like this, you let Gojo sleep in. 

(Because you’re lucky if he can fall back asleep again). 

It’s slow today—no work, no missions that need you or him. It’s your favorite kind of day, and Gojo’s too (once he wakes up and smells the waffles you’ve prepared, double topped with whipped cream and maple syrup—his special, of course). 

A steady stream of warmth flows through the window to your kitchen countertop, the marble glimmering as light hits. The material was his choice; you don’t care much for glamor but Gojo likes pretty things—you especially, he likes to say. 

The batter is quick to prepare, a recipe you’ve done many times before, so you ladle it into the waffle maker before letting it set on its own. Then, you grab a pan to heat up, spooning in last night’s leftover rice, some soy sauce, and mirin, adding salt to taste, as needed. A standard fried rice breakfast, with a yolk to mix in later. 

The sound of his footsteps are concealed by the sizzles of the pan in front of you, but you’re caught off guard by arms wrapped around your waist, and his chin nestling itself into your shoulder as he nuzzles you. 

He’s still shirtless, you notice, so you inch backwards in case of any oil spatter. 

“Good sleep?” you mumble, certain that he heard you. 

He hums, before whispering, lips tickling the edges of your ear on purpose, pouting, “Not anymore when you left.” 

This man—a giant baby, puffed cheeks with long limbs hunched over you. 

Your big baby. 

Despite his whines, he’s telling the truth, you know, and you feel warm because of it, affection seeping in the cracks between his arms and the kitchen stove. 

You blow on a spoonful of rice before lifting it up to his lips. Gojo’s breakfasts are always sweet, but every time you cook, he looks forward to this: waiting right behind you to be fed over your shoulder.

His review will always be the same, of course, everything you touch turns out good. 

He reaches for the waffle maker with one hand while the other keeps you close, and you plate his little breakfast for him, whipped cream with little hearts drawn in maple syrup. 

You grab a bowl for your rice and sit by the counter, Gojo sitting thigh-to-thigh beside you despite the abundance of space around you. 

You realize then, that Gojo tends to hover. 

Not necessarily in a bad way, just that, he does it all the time—always wanting to be near.  

And for someone so perceiving, practically all-seeing, he doesn’t really have to for him to know what you’re up to, but with every opportunity he has, he never misses a moment to be close to you.

When you wash the dishes by the sink, he stays beside you, shoulder-to-shoulder, even when the sink is wide enough to accommodate him a few inches farther. 

Even the walk to the bathroom has him tailing you, following your footsteps as he traces the footprints of slow mornings with you. 

Your bathroom counter has two sinks, but of course, today, he chooses to stay by yours. 

“Skincare?” you raise a tub of face mask. 

He doesn’t need it, but you love pampering him, so he nods, whatever you want. 

You struggle for a bit (he’s just too tall), so he picks you up by the waist and rests you on the bathroom counter, against the mirror.

He stays in the space between your legs, hands flat against your thighs. His thumb kneads your skin gently, and any other time, this position would end very differently, but there’s a look he’s giving you—all words without speaking. 

And—

“Quit staring,” you mumble, turning shy. You’re about to rub the product onto his cheeks, under his eyes. 

“What, I can’t look at you?” he moves closer, keeping his eyes locked on you as he rubs circles on your thighs. 

“No, you can, but,” you swallow, “you’re looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” his brows furrow. 

“Like that.” you sigh, gesturing to his face. 

“Like I love you?” 

And it is like that. Like he loves you. That’s why he says it so casually. 

Because he does. 

You stay quiet, stunned, before you clear your throat and finish up the final area on his face. 

“Yeah.” you mumble, reaching over to wash your hands on the sink. 

Gojo waits for you to finish before he takes a small towel to dry your hands with it. 

“As if you don’t know.” he scoffs, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. 

He’s right—it’s been said before, but there’s something else in his eyes right now, shiny and devoted, as if this is all he could ever want. As if you, on this slow morning, in this too-big bathroom is all he could ever need. 

But he doesn’t say anything. At least, not what he really means. 

“Not my fault you’re so pretty today,” he adds on, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

It should be funny, that he’s telling you all this with a mask slathered all over his face, but his compliments always speak to the depths of you, even when you don’t expect them to. 

His fingers mold against your cheek, to your ears, down to the back of your head, bringing you closer until he kisses you softly, a gentle peck. 

Bits of the face mask transfer to your nose and you giggle, wiping it off. 

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, they say.” you joke.

Gojo smiles, that look on his face, “Good for you then, you’re the only one I see.”

re-uploaded because i accidentally deleted!

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[vrystalius]

Sleepy…

How the hashira act when they’re tired?

Pairing: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Gyomei, Giyu x fem!reader

(Reader has stretch marks on her thighs in Gyomei’s part)

Sanemi Shinazugawa

In the mornings…

Sanemi wakes up being grumpy and drained rather than rested from a good night’s sleep. His hair is messy and some stubble formed on his face over the night. Also, he doesn’t believe you when you say he snores in his sleep, even though you woke up from him snoring or grunting in his sleep multiple times. You sometimes even heard him mumble something about Genya and ohagi. Your name fell every now and then but you haven’t told him about that yet. He had a huge grin on his was while seemingly dreaming of you, and you didn’t want to hurt his pride even more.

Sanemi is slow in the mornings and needs you to drag him out of bed. If he has nothing to do but train today, so why can’t he just sleep until he needs to train? He’d hunch over the sink and slowly brush his teeth while having his eyes closer again. You once caught him falling asleep in that stance, snoring quietly. While Sanemi is finishing up in the bathroom at a snail’s pace, you take some time to cook up something nice for you two.

Heavy footsteps would stumble down the stairs and Sanemi would drag his heavy body over to you, leaning onto your back and nuzzling his face in your warm neck. He’d groan and squeeze your waist gently.

“You still feel so warm… ugh, I wanna go back to bed…”

In the evenings…

After showering, Sanemi doesn’t really have energy to do anything else after hunting demons all night. He can’t sleep without you though, so he’ll just lay in bed like a log and wait on you to join him. Sometimes, he’d even call out to you to hurry up and cuddle him already.

Once in bed, Sanemi’ll lay his head on your soft chest and close his eyes. His cheek is slightly squished and mouth slightly agape. He’d want you to play with his hair and run your fingers through his white locks. Sometimes, Sanemi would accidentally start drooling onto your skin or shirt, forgetting to swallow his spit. Your massage is just making him forget anything: his worries, fears, train of thought and to swallow his spit.

Of course, Sanemi would be incredibly embarrassed and deny enjoying your craved touch this much. Sometimes, he’d even roll off you and lay on his stomach, pretending that he’s perfectly fine to sleep on his own. You giggling at his flushed face doesn’t help either.

Sanemi does NOT need you to hold him so he can sleep properly and have nice dreams if you act that way!

“Scoot over, I wanna lay down. I don’t need your damn cuddles anymore. You’re just making fun of me, damnit!!”

Kyojuro Rengoku

In the mornings…

Kyojuro’s hair is incredibly messy everytime he wakes up. You can’t resist but to brush through it a couple of times while your husband slept, enjoying the moment of quiet intimacy.

His voice would be raspy and quieter in the mornings in comparison to throughout the day, his smiles smaller and sleepier, yet just as happy and real as usual. Kyojuro would be sleepy in the mornings but would start regaining his energy after having a nutritious breakfast. Usually, he’d make them himself.

Kyojuro would stand by the stove, dressed in either just his nightwear pants or a loose fitting robe. His movements are sluggish and slow, but he still never burnt himself on accident. Sometimes, you would even lean against his muscular back and complain about the tasks ahead of you while Kyojuro quietly listens and cooks breakfast.

“Mh, would you… *yawn*… mind handing me the eggs from over there?”

In the evenings…

Kyojuro still manages to muster up enough energy to keep his vibrant and loud personality, even right before bed. He’s incredibly tired and needs to recharge the whole night to have another successful day of training and slaying demons. The best way to recharge is by holding you close to his chest, letting your head rest on his soft pecks.

Slowly, Kyojuro would start to slip into a sleepier state. His eyes would be droopy and his smile more lovesick while his hand slowly brush over your features. You’re so perfect, do you know that? Sometimes, he might squeeze you a little too hard on accident. It something similar to cuteness aggression, just much more subconscious and softer.

Kyojuro would fall asleep with your imagine in mind and a sleepy smile on his face, his arms wrapped tightly around you, making sure you’re comfortable in his warm arms.

“Hm? Oh, sorry… did I hold you too tightly? Apologies, my love. I missed you the whole day and… forgive me?”

Gyomei Himejima

In the mornings…

Gyomei usually wakes up quite early to go pray, but you keep him in bed for a little longer. You get woken up by the weight on the bed shifting and mumble his name, gently grabbing his forearm and pulling him back onto the bed. He cannot help but obey your wish and lay back down with you. Gyomei is still tired when you pull his head against your chest, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders.

Tears start falling down his cheeks and onto your shirt as you run your fingers through his messy, short hair. A small smile rested on his face.

His voice is incredibly deep and his chest vibrates against yours as he murmurs quiet prayers to finish his morning routine. Gyomei doesn’t get sleepy very often, but when he does, it’s only in your arms and by your touch.

“You’re a blessing, my pearl…”

In the evenings…

After his endurance training, slaying demons and attending an hashira meeting, even Gyomei gets tired. He would lay right beside you, resting his head on your stomach. His eyes would be closed and arms wrapped around your waist and plush thighs, rubbing gently up and down, feeling your warm skin and stretch marks.

Gyomei would place gentle kisses on your skin and savour your scent. You are absolutely beautiful to him, he doesn’t even need his eyes to see that. While you massage his scalp with your fingers, it feels like the exhaustion is finally catching up to him. With a final sigh, Gyomei finally slipped into something similar to a comatose. Once asleep, only the sound of the cries of a crow can wake him up.

“My love, may I rest with you a little longer? I still haven’t recovered from my last training session… you have a healing effect on me.”

Giyu Tomioka

In the mornings…

He is comparable to a disoriented, deflated balloon. Not that Giyu is bouncing and being happy during the day, it’s just that he’s even more depressed in the mornings. But, on the bright side, Giyu is able to handle your affections better while sleepy. Normally, he’d stiffen up and shortcircuit. But while he’s being tired, you can cup his cheeks and kiss him all over, he’ll just respond with a small whine or groan.

Giyu might become a cuddlebug when you two are in bed and have nothing to do. He’d bury his face in your neck and savour your warmth while he can. Sometimes, he’d bury his face in your even warmer cleavage, falling right back into sleep.

“Mhhrrm… hmm? What did you say?… mhh… didn’t hear..”

In the evenings…

Believe it or not, he becomes even quieter in the evenings. Giyu will silently stare at you, begging at you to just hold him and cradle him to sleep with his eyes. He’d hover around you with eyebags under his eyes, always standing near you until you offer to cuddle him.

His eyebags, glossy eyes and messy hair look him look like a lost puppy, so it was a matter of time until you offered to cuddle in bed. Your soft skin under his calloused hands never felt any nicer.

Giyu would be out in a matter of minutes and fall asleep in an awkward position. One arm would be wrapped around your waist while the other was angled on his side.

“Agh, my shoulder hurts. Did I fall asleep in a weird way?”

💠

I thought of this last night. I have another similar idea about sleepy hairplay and I’m thinking about either writing that idea for the Upper Moons or the hashira, either way, thank you for reading! As mentioned before, I’ll post some asks on the weekend <3

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!

Take care of yourselves <3

[getosbigballsack]

Random thought! - Husband Gojo x Wife Reader-chan #inside the diary

Hear me out! Gojo read your thoughts in your diary and came to realize that he was a terrible husband to you.

He knew he was a good lay, hence the reason he managed to knock you up three times. But as of lately, he came to realize that you weren't interested in having sex with him.

At first, he thought it was just because you were too tired, having to take care of the kids while he works, all day by yourself (in which he understands, and he praises you for being such a wonderful mother).

But that wasn't the case. He just happened to come home early from work while you were out shopping with the kids, and he got a hold of your diary.

Interestingly, he took it upon himself to skim through the pages of your book, just to see what's inside your little head. Nothing out of the ordinary, just little notes and reminders to yourself about the task you had to complete and a few words of encouragement here and there.

He usually doesn't read through your thoughts, always thinking that if you had an issue you'd come and talk to him, so he was about to put your diary back where he found it because he didn't want to pry further into your thoughts, but that's until one page in particular caught his eye.

I find it difficult to enjoy sex with my husband nowadays and I don't know why?

Words in blue handwriting are written beautifully on the paper. He kept on reading, and as he continued to move further down the line, he felt his heart break.

It’s just me, but I don't think I'm attractive enough to have sex with my husband.

I wanted to suggest the last time we had sex [that was a month ago], but I didn't wanna ruin the moment for him because he looked like he was having fun.

Satoru came home today and wanted to have sex. I told him no. He never forced himself on me. He only kissed me goodnight and left to go sleep in the guest room. I know he was upset but did he really have to leave?

It's been 2 months, and Satoru hasn't tried touching me since that night. Am I not worthy of loving anymore? He doesn't even buy me flowers anymore or take me out on dates.

He doesn't compliment me anymore, doesn't tell me that I'm beautiful. He doesn’t even call me baby girl, doll or even honey.

No more I love you, only kisses to the forehead and peck on the lips before he leaves for work in the morning.

He comes home late, I'm always alone with the kids, no more family dinners, no more kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom conversations. No more late-night kisses, no more holding me tightly in his arms while he sleeps.

Does he not want me anymore?

Sometimes I wanna visit his office with the children but I’m afraid that he’ll find my presence a bit annoying. I feel lonely without him here with me.

I should've said yes that night and spread my legs for him,

That's my duty as his wife.

To have fulfilled all my husband's needs without complaint.

But it hurts to have sex, I'm just not in the mood. I'm too tired, I just need my husband to hold me, but he's not there.

I can't complain, he's the reason I don't have to work.

But is it so bad to ask my husband to love me without having the need to touch me?

The last entry to your diary reads.

I'm going to do it today, bare the pain and have sex with my husband, just so that I can feel his love once again. 

Now he knows the real reason you won’t have intercourse with him, or let's say the reason you don’t enjoy having sex with him. You feel as though he doesn’t love you anymore, and he needs to fix that. So, until he can figure out a way to prove to you just how much he loves you, he’ll have to deprive himself of your warm loving touch. 

Later in the day when you came home with the kids, you saw your husband cooking up a storm in the kitchen. “Hey baby girl, want something to eat? It’s been a while hasn’t it.” too stunned to even say a word, you just watched as your kids, ages 3, 4 and 6 ran over to their dad and engulfed him in a big hug. He giggled and stopped whatever he was doing to bend to his children’s height and kissed every single of them on their cheeks. “Hey boys. Did you all take your mom out shopping today?” Oh, that’s right you’re a boy mom. You managed to pop three boys, all of them came out looking just like their dad, especially your eldest son. 

The boys chatted away with their dad until he excused himself and walked over to you and wrapped his arms tightly around your body. You're in a state of shock, unable to move for a moment until he whispers, “can I get a hug back?” and you did give him a hug. 

“Welcome home, have a seat, dinner’s almost ready. I cooked vegetable curry today, I know it’s your favourite,” and indeed it is your favourite. For the rest of the day, he spent time in the kitchen cooking while chatting with his kids, not without taking small glances at you. You all ate dinner together, got the kids ready for bed when night falls, before preparing for bed yourselves. 

You remembered that you wrote in your diary that you were about to try and have sex with your husband, all for the sake of feeling his love again, but that didn’t happen. Instead, you found your husband already waiting for you on the bed, fully dressed in pjs, a cup of your favourite tea in his hand and a warm loving smile on his face. 

He immediately started up a conversation with you, asking you about your day and your trip to the shopping centre. You had no clue what was going on inside your husband’s head, but it’s been a while since he last sat down and had small conversations like these, and you weren’t about to miss this opportunity. 

So with a smile on your face, you told everything that happened today and even the fact that you had to buy a bag of grapes you had no intentions of buying, but you did so because your 3 year old son stole and ate a few while you picked up a bag of oranges. The conversation went all a while until he sighed. 

“Y/N,” he whispered in a serious tone. “We need to talk. I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I can’t bear the fact that my wife would be going to bed with doubts about our relationship and my love for you.”

You swallow thickly and rest your now empty cup against the nightstand before turning to face your husband fully. He reached his hand out for you, and you gently placed your left hand in his. He wrapped his large hand around your finger and gently pulled you until you were straddling his lips. You swallowed that thick lump yet again, before whispering, “So what is it that we need to talk about.”

“Why do you always refuse to communicate your feelings with me?” he asked as he let go of your hand and wrapped both hands around your waist and rested his head up against your chest. “I know I haven’t been a good husband to you these past few months, but I don’t want you to think that I don’t love you or that you’re not worthy of loving.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

He sighed heavily before taking a deep breath. “I found your diary in the living room when I got home, and I read through your notes.” Your body tensed up in his lap, your mind immediately racing towards negative thoughts. Is he angry? Why did you have to carelessly leave your diary out in the open for him to see. 

“Oh!”

“I’m sorry for reading through your diary, but I’m happy that I did because my wife won’t communicate with me,” he said with a frustrated sigh. 

You frowned, “Would you have listened even if I tried?”

“I would’ve dropped everything and listened to whatever it is that you have to say. I know it's my duty to ensure that my wife is living her best happy life, and that it’s also my responsibility to take care of your wellbeing, but I can’t always know what's going on with you if you don’t communicate with me.” 

Communication on your end has always been a big issue in your relationship with your husband. It bothered him and he’d hope that after a while you would’ve grown out of your bad habit, but he guess he’s wrong, because here you are now after 8 years of being a relationship total and that includes the four years of marriage, and 3 kids later, you still struggling to figure out a way to communicate your feelings with him. 

“I broke my heart when I read that you thought that as my wife, your duty is to only provide for me sexually or even the fact that you don’t think that you’re attractive enough to have sex with me. What hurts me the most is that you have so many doubts about my love for you. Y/N you know that I love you right?”

“I do,” your voice trembled slightly as you answered. 

“Then why are you doubting my feelings for you? I apologise for leaving you to sleep in the guest room that night, it was wrong of me to be upset all because you told me no.” There was a moment of silence, you figured he was waiting for a response in which you never gave.

“I know I don’t say this as much as I need to, but I love you. I LOVE YOU so very much. I love you as my best friend, my wife and I love you even more as the mother of my children.” Tears started to obstruct your vision as you stared off at your wedding portrait that was above your bed and listened as your husband poured his hurt out to you. 

“I need you to stop thinking that you are not worthy of loving because you are more than worthy. You’re an amazing woman, an amazing wife, and an amazing mother to our children. Just the fact that you're a mother makes you worthy of loving.” 

“Satoru… I- I,” you stuttered, trying to formulate the words inside your mouth, but even if you did, what are you going to say to your husband? You had not one clue. 

“I’m not a mind reader Y/N, so you need to start communicating your feelings with me, because if you don’t tell me, I’m not going to always know,” he said to you as he snuggled his head against your chest. 

“I- I’ll do better.” 

“I’m happy to hear that, and I promise to show you just how much I love you and do whatever it is to ensure that my wife is happy, because your happiness means the most to me. I’ll get you those flowers you want, and I’ll try my best to buy you loads of flowers in the future. And about visiting my office.”

“Yes?” you said. 

“I would love for you to pop up at my office one day with the kids and surprise me. My workers have been dying to meet my beautiful wife and children. And about the late-night work meetings. I can’t promise you that there won’t be any more late-night meetings, but I'll do my best to get home as early as I can to be with you and the kids. I don’t want you to feel as though I’ve abandoned you with the kids. I’ll take a few days off from work too and take the ends out. You’re right we barely have family time.”

“Thank you,” you said smiling as you allowed those tears to run down your cheeks. 

“I’ll do better as your husband. It wasn't my intention to not cuddle and hold you tightly while we sleep. Baby you know you can always smack me in the head or do that cute silly little thing you do and crawl underneath my arms if you want to cuddle with me,” he said to you, and you let out a small giggle. 

He chuckled too as he removed one hand from around your waist to cradle your cheek. “Lastly, this is about our sex life. If I make you feel physical pain, or uncomfortable at any time during intercourse you need to let me know because the last thing I want to do is hurt you. In your diary you said that you wanted to suggest the last time we had sex. I want you to tell me what it is.”

Your face heated up immediately, why would he have to bring that up now. Couldn’t he have waited until a better time. But nonetheless despite the obvious look of embarrassment on your face you whispered, “I was wondering if… if…”

“Yes?” 

“I was wondering if we could try something outside the usual vanilla sex,” you said to him, and he cocked his eyebrow towards you. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy vanilla sex, I love having vanilla sex with you and you know how to be rough when you need to be. But I thought it would be nice if we could do something different.” 

“What do you suggest?” he asked with a sunning grin on his face. 

“Maybe we could try using some sex toys.” 

“Sex toys heh?” he said, and you quickly covered up your face with your hands. “I’m open, I don’t mind getting a few sex toys here and there for us to use. I can order us a few online on another day.”

“Ok…”

“Good girl. I love you.” he whispered as he kissed your lips. "I promise I'll be a better husband for you."

“I love you too, Satoru.”

[theorphicangel]

“𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬?” | 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

synopsis: you have a valentine’s date tomorrow and you’re somewhat excited for it. but there’s just one thing you’re unsure about…thankfully your trusted roommate can help. right?

tags: roommate au! (Here we go again), smut, 18+, oral (m.receiving), blowjob, praise, mutual pining, these mfs are in DENIAL smh

PART ONE.

“You have a valentine’s date?”

“God, O’Hara don’t even try to hide the surprise in your voice, why don’t you.”

You cross your arms, frowning at your roommate who was currently sitting next to you on the couch. The two of you were watching a remake of a new movie that had come out recently. An hour or so had passed, the both of you stuck within a comfortable silence before your words had distracted him.

“How could you blame me?” He begins, his gaze still on the television screen. “I’ve never seen you bring anyone home before.”

“So you keep notice on who I bring home?”

A pause runs between the two of you.

“No.”

“Liar.”

Miguel clears his throat. “It’s none of my business anyways, what you do.”

After a few beats of silence, Miguel speaks again, this time with a teasing tone. “I wouldn’t want to be like you anyways, keeping track of who I sleep with.”

“I do not keep track!” you exclaimed.

“How come you remembered Cindy’s name then?”

You hesitate, stuttering off. “You–you talk about her a lot.”

“Bullshit.” A grin creeps up across his lips.

“You jerk, I was gonna ask you for a favor but since you wanna play that game, nevermind.” You crossed your arms, turning your attention back to the screen. Simultaneously, you had just sparked off Miguel’s own curiosity.

“What’s the favor?”

“I don’t want to ask you anymore, I’ll ask someone else.”

“Like who? Peter?”

“Don’t be mean, mig’.”

The movie continues to play in the background for a minute or two before Miguel starts getting restless.

“So who's the guy then? Someone you paid?” Miguel’s grin doesn’t have the time to stretch across his lips this time as you throw a pillow to his face.

“Hey!”

“Watch your mouth, O’hara.”

The two of you had been roommates for just under a year. You had moved in due to an emergency situation. A few troubles with your finances, student loans and the loss of your job resulted in you desperately responding to a roommate advert posted on the internet. Moving in at the beginning was awkward, the two of you avoiding each other, minimal conversation revolving around the weather and who would take out the trash.

But all it took was one night for the both of you to open up to each other, a shift in your realization that Miguel wasn’t as bad as you thought. A few too many drinks one night led you to learn a lot about each other. Like how he didn’t like the dark yet had a weird obsession with space. You found that he had a brother, a few years younger than him who was almost a spitting image. For him, he learned how you once had wanted to be a painter but soon switched career paths to psychology as well as taking up a foreign language.

Ever since that night, you’ve managed to maintain a good friendship with Miguel, completed with a little teasing here and there. On some nights, when you were left alone in your room, you laid back and stared at the ceiling, thinking about him. Particularly, thinking about him and the girls which he brought home. Your mind wandered to the possibilities of what he would be like with them. Imagining what it would be like to be in their position.

How would he touch you, feel you, look at you? Would he be gentle and take his time or does he rush, his passion taking over his whole body? It was questions like these that plagued your mind. You began to create a fantasy in your head, touching yourself at the thought of him touching you; imagining his movements to be slow and cautious, taking you all for himself.

Speaking of, you’ve recently noticed his lack of…visitors lately. Instead of hiding away with them in his room, he’s recently been spending a lot of late nights in your company.

“What’s your plans for Valentine's Day?” you queried, trying to maintain a casual tone. “Taking Cindy out for a romantic dinner?”

Miguel scoffs, shaking his head a little. “Why don’t you ask her out yourself, since you’re so obsessed with the woman?”

A small wave of ease flows through your mind at his answer. Yet it wasn’t exactly the answer you wanted. You pat Miguel on the chest mockingly.

“I knew she said no to you. If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here you kno—” Unfortunately you weren’t able to finish your sentence as a small scream left your mouth, as Miguel pinched your thigh.

“Watch it, imbécil.” he glared, before changing the topic. “But I’m serious, who's the poor guy then?”

You shoot an offended glare back before repositioning yourself on the couch, turning your body to face him properly.

“Someone asked me from work.”

“And you didn’t have to get on your knees and beg them first?” Playfully, you hit him on the arm and he lets out a fake wince of pain.

“Shut up. And no, for your information, I didn’t.”

Miguel hums, his eyes quickly glancing back to the television screen as he tries his best to ignore the sinking feeling of disappointment in his lower abdomen. Guess he should cancel tomorrow then.

“But I had a favor to ask you.” you turn your body, shifting your position to face him. Miguel merely raises a brow, humming deeply again with his eyes still glued on the screen.

“I was wondering if you’d…show me how to—uhhh how do I put this? Suck someone off.”

Miguel froze. Oh, now you had his attention.

“¿Qué?”

You freeze, clearing your throat as his eyes snap back to you. “I mean it was just a suggestion– I-I’ve watched a few videos but I’m still kinda—I just— I mean, I don’t–”

“You don’t know how to give a blowjob?”

It was a bit more blunt than you had wanted to put it but…yes.

You nodded silently, now choosing to avoid eye contact. “I just wanted some tips, y’know? What do guys generally like? I’ve read that some like it differently than others so…”

“Why are you asking me?”

Ah yes, the million dollar question. Why were you asking your hot ass roommate for blowjob tips? You had the choice to ask anyone: your best friend, or another friend or even a random stranger on the internet. Why him?

“You’re…experienced.” was all that you could come up with. “And not in a bad way!” You quickly correct. “ but I can assume you’ve had your good shares of…that.”

Miguel raises a brow again, swallowing thickly. Anxiety was now bubbling at the base of his stomach. You were asking him how to please a man and immediately his mind jumped at the thought of you with your valentine’s date at the end of the night. Ah, you were asking for your date.

“Well, did you just want tips or did you…” he trails off without finishing the sentence, thinking how weird it would be to finish the sentence that had popped up in his mind.

“ ‘Or did I’ what?” You repeat, tilting your head ever so innocently.

“Or did you want to practice on me?”

/

And that’s how you got here. Kneeling on the floor between the thighs of your very own roommate whom you have only known for less than a year. Was this what you were expecting when asking for advice? Of course not. But there was a sense of excitement that grew in the pit of your stomach and you weren’t going to complain about it.

“So how do I start?” You glance up at Miguel, your eyes wide with innocence and curiosity to learn. Just from the way that you looked at him, he was already beginning to get hard.

“Well, you just start.”

You roll your eyes, “Okay, doofus. So you expect me to just get into it? No foreplay or anything?”

“There’ll probably be some foreplay with your date and stuff but…we don’t have to do that.”

For a split second there’s an aura of hesitation between the two of you; him regretting his last words and you almost wanting to reject his assumption. Mutually, there’s a little voice inside of you that tempts you both to take the chance and do this properly.

But of course, this was a lesson.

A mere, innocent favor from a roommate. With no strings attached. Or feelings for that matter.

Even if it killed you both to suppress them.

You nod silently, taking mental notes. Miguel raised his hips a little to pull down his sweatpants, enough so that you could access him with ease. Now you’re starting to get nervous. Your heart was palpitating so much that you could hear your own heartbeat thump in your ears. “I-”

“If you don’t want to, we can stop.” He quips quickly, noticing your hesitation.

You pause, reflecting for the final time whether or not you wanted to do it. Once you made your decision, you glanced up at Miguel.

“It’s not like I have much time left to practice, right?”

Miguel raises a brow. After all, Valentine's day was tomorrow so you needed all the practice that you could get. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” you vocalized, trying to sound more confident in this way.

“Okay, lemme just–” Miguel mumbled to himself as tugs down his boxers. You noticed the way the bottom of his shirt hiked up a little, presenting his happy trail; a dark bush of hair leading all the way down to his…

Oh.

It’s big. Bigger than you thought. And he’s not even hard yet.

Miguel seethes a little, his cock only semi-hard. He pumps himself a few times before removing his hand, leaving it up to you. His arms now rest on the back edge of the couch, widening his thighs a little more for accessibility.

‘Holy shit’, you think to yourself, how the fuck were you supposed to deal with this?

Miguel caught onto your expression, panic drawn all over your face. “We can–”

“No.” you interrupt him, reading his apprehension too. His concern for you is more than obvious. “I want to.”

Miguel chuckles a little, “I was going to suggest to take it slow but yeah, if you’re still up for it.”

You swallow thickly, edging nearer before planting your hands on his thighs. This is so alien to you. After many months of tiptoeing around him at a distance, it was scary how fast you found yourself in a position of intimacy with him.

Sure, many times before have you fantasized about what it would be like to get close to him. With the sounds of moans coming from his bedroom late at night, it wasn’t hard for you to figure out how much of a woman pleaser he was.

Slowly, your hand wraps around his cock, feeling him get harder and harder with every second that passes. You think back to the videos that you had watched previous to this, noticing that most of the women decide to give a few strokes before going in with their mouth. You imitate them easily, watching your hand move.

You take in every fine detail: every vein, every twitch, every shade leading from the tip to the base. The crown of his cock is thick, becoming redder with every stroke as juices of pre-cum subtly spilling away.

“Jus’ like that.” Miguel murmurs and you notice how his tone is a little lighter than before. “When you’re ready, you can lick the tip a little, warm yourself up to it.”

You hum in response. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, not yet at least.

Once again, you think back to the porn videos you had watched, imitating the women by tracing little circles across the tip of his dick. Miguel lets out a drawn out groan and little by little you can feel his body relax as you continue on. It tastes salty. The tip of his cock is reddened and soft.

For a minute or two you continue to trace circles, closing your eyes in the moment, allowing yourself to relax and get rid of any nerves or doubt. Miguel says nothing more, his teeth softly biting down on his lower lip, he watches as you hesitate, unsure of how to continue from here.

Miguel’s hand soon reaches for your chin, causing you to pause and tilt your head up towards him. His hand cups right under your lips and your face turns to confusion for a split second before he lets out his command.

“Spit.”

For some reason, your body listens to him without a second thought.

“It’s okay if it gets messy,” he advises, “the messier the better.”

You make a mental note of that.

You make sure to be careful with your teeth as your lips part around his cock. Once again you take it slow, letting your mouth adjust to his size. He’s bigger and thicker than you had expected, barely halfway before he already fills up your mouth. Your eyes water as you attempt to take him whole, a decision which you realize quickly was too hasty as you reach your gag reflex.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t– mierda!” Miguel sits up a little, trying to pace you. Your eyes water and saliva continues to pool out of your mouth, dripping down to his balls. Your cheeks are full of his cock and as if following his instincts, Miguel almost wants to hold your head there. It takes all of his resilience not to place his hand at the back of your head. He let out a grunt at the warmth of your mouth, coaxing him to stay a little longer. But unfortunately if he does, then he may cum sooner rather than later.

You feel his fingers tap your shoulder, “Hey–” he manages to draw out, “brea–breathe through your nose.” You attempt to do so, just letting off a few inches of his dick, letting your hand stroke whatever you can’t take. With you, you can build up a pace more freely, bobbing your head up and down. You close your eyes, concentrating on keeping your rhythm, a steady pace for now.

Fuck it, Miguel gives into his instincts, letting a hand cup the back of your head ever so lightly.

“Fuck, keep going… you’re doing so well.”

Miguel’s praises boost your confidence, the simple phrase removing past doubts that had cast over you. You pause to allow yourself to breathe, your hand stroking his length in the meanwhile and Miguel seems to cup your chin again.

“Mírame.”

One simple order and he has you hooked and, god, you have a gorgeous view.

His dark brows are deeply furrowed. Chest rising and falling heavily, His hands are now by his side, prominent veins from his other arm lead to the back of his hand which currently grips a pillow on the couch. His eyes are beginning to droop, with his head tilted back slightly. You notice how his Adam apple bobs in his throat with every guttural hum that he makes. His mouth is just about agape enough for you to spot his pink tongue peeking out at you.

And as for him? The sight of you is more wondrous than he could ever imagine. Your eyes are also heavy-lidded. Lips plump and wet with saliva dripping down your chin. This is a side of you that he’s never seen before. Your eyes glow with submission, the innocence and inexperience peeling off of you. If you keep looking at him with that expression, he’s not particularly confident that he’ll be able to hold on for that long.

“Don’t stop looking at me, okay?”

You hum a little before your lips open wide to wrap around his cock again. Yet this time, you manage to keep eye contact. Another unrestrained grunt leaves Miguel’s mouth, his lips parting once more.

You’d say that you’re confident now, relaxed more than ever – confident enough to begin exploring. Keeping his cock in your mouth, you begin to bob your head at a rhythmic pace and at the same time a free hand reaches down to his base, lightly tracing over his balls.

A sharp inhale leaves his mouth. “You’re gonna kill me, you know that, nena?”

You hum in response, the vibration of your mouth causing a helpless moan from your roommate. You focus near the tip of his cock, returning back to tracing circles over the slit. One hand still pumps the rest of him whilst the other gently teases his balls with your fingertips.

He’s closer than you think. And you can tell by the way that his hips begin to shift a little as if he’s trying to get more of your touch. He tilts his head back, chest rising and falling at a more dramatic pace. “Shit–shit–shit-m’gonna, m’gonna cum– if– if you keep going… oh fuck!”

“Wan’ me to swallow it all?”

You’re practically teasing him at this point. Fuck, he’ll do anything, anything. And this time he doesn’t hold back in vocalizing this, the words ‘yes’ falling from his tongue, pleading, begging you to continue. “Yes, yes, don’t fucking stop.”

You decide to grant him his wishes, turning to a faster pace as you stroke his length with your hand. You can feel his cock twitching, thick veins rubbing against your palm.

“You close, mig’?” you taunt, watching as he closes his eyes in pure euphoria. He nods, inchorant words fall from his lips in a babble as his hips jerk upwards and his thighs tense around you.

Fuck, fuck, fuck m’cumming! M’gonna–”

Miguel manages to cut himself off with a deep groan, lifting his hips up as you wrap your lips around him for the last time. His cock twitches, veins pulsating as your mouth is filled with his white seed. You swallow as much as you can, trying to bear the salty taste. His cum is thick, spurting so much out you think you won’t be able to keep up. Some leaks out, dripping down his shaft. As soon as you’ve swallowed, you lap up what you missed.

“Fuck, wait, wait–”

“M’cleaning you up.” you mumble. You can tell how sensitive he is. Just from your tongue lightly licking his length so as to not waste anything, his cock twitches. Once satisfied, you pull away, your tongue licking at your bottom lip.

Apart from the sound of the now forgotten movie playing in the background and the sound of light panting coming from Miguel, there’s a silence between the both of you.

You lean back, resting on your heels as you begin to grow aware of your actions.

You’ve just sucked off your roommate. Correction. Your hot ass roommate.

Neither of you know what to say. You begin to avoid his eye contact, feeling the awkwardness creep in. Yet, it fails to fully entrap you as Miguel chooses to bite the dust and speaks first.

“For someone with a mouth that doesn’t shut up, I’m surprised you know how to use it well.” he mutters, pulling up his boxers and sweatpants.

All tension from your body begins to evaporate, a slight smile appearing on your lips.

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” you frown, wiping off remnants of his cum mixed with your saliva from your lips with the back of your hand.

“Nothing, nothing. You were just…good for someone who hadn’t done anything like this before.”

Unlike when you were sucking him off, his praise causes heat to rise to your cheeks, your face burning up. And like a few moments ago too, you continue to avoid his eyes.

Clearing your throat, you move to stand, gesturing that you’re about to go to your room. The movie is just about over but neither you nor him were worried about that anymore.

“Any other advice that I should take?” you say.

Miguel frowns, taking a few moments to think deeply. If he’s being completely honest with himself, that orgasm has crushed him. Leaving him with nothing but thoughts of you and that sweet mouth of yours. Just thinking about it almost makes him hard again.

A part of him almost dares to tell you to forget your date tomorrow and to go out with him tomorrow. The card and flowers addressed to you, wait patiently in his room, a last-minute gift after weeks of building up the courage to ask you. All that courage is lost now though.

He’s too late.

“No.” He says, finally, going against his instincts. “Just do exactly what you did for me.”

“No complaints?”

“No complaints.” He clarifies. A deep pit of regret and hurt builds up again in his lower stomach, a feeling that he’ll have to start getting used to. He deserves it, he thinks, for not asking you sooner. He has no right to be jealous that someone else beat him to it. Not when he wasn’t dropping enough signs to prove that…

he’s falling in love with you.

Before entering your bedroom, you pause, the door leading to your bedroom slightly ajar. “Hey.”

Miguel glancing up to look at you.

“Thanks.”

Miguel says nothing more and really he should be the one thanking you for the heaven that you’ve just taken him to. He waits until he hears your bedroom door close and lock before letting out a sigh that he didn’t know he was holding in.

After he’s sure that you won’t return, Miguel pulls out his phone, tapping his screen until he reaches a certain page.

‘Are you sure you want to cancel your reservation for a ‘table for two’ on the 14th of February ?’

After a mere moment of hesitation, he confirms. His thumb clicking on ‘yes’.

part 2.

[rinslutz]

ᥫ᭡ “WHAT AM I HERE FOR?” — GOJO SATORU

ㅤꞋꞌꞋꞌ gn reader angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, gojo is clingy, insecurities

you’re fed up with his absence. he’s in pain and he doesn’t know what to do.

you’re making dinner for two, though it is likely you’ll be eating it alone. you still keep hope alive by continuing to make him dinner every night. the least he could do is eat it when he comes home in the middle of the night, but he doesn’t even do that. you don’t know if he’s been eating. you don’t know anything.

you jump in surprise as you hear the front door opening. you stop cutting the vegetables in front of you, not sure if you hallucinated it. satoru’s heavy foot step walking towards you reassures you that you didn’t.

his arms wrap tightly around your waist. the pads of his fingers press into your abdomen. he doesn’t speak right away. maybe it’s because he knows you won't listen to him or maybe he has nothing to say at all.

he loudly and obnoxiously sighs. he’s insufferable, you think. instead of speaking up, instead of apologizing, he obviously wants you to speak first. as stubborn as you are you’d take a lifelong vow of silence if it meant you wouldn’t have to give in first.

“you’re still mad at me.” you immediately roll your eyes, not than he can see anyway. he doesn’t have to see your face to know your reaction. contrary to what you think, he knows you.

you think he pays little attention to you when in reality he knows everything about you. he notices that you put way too much butter on your toast. he knows you hate sleeping with socks on. he knows you pretend to be asleep when he comes home late because you don’t want him to know that you can’t sleep without him. he pretends he doesn’t though. that’s how you ended up in this situation

he pretends to not care sometimes. you don’t know why and apparently neither does he. in the past three months, he hasn’t spent much time with you and it began to take a toll on you. satoru is annoying though, so when you brought it up he pretended that everything was okay.

it’s not okay. he knows that more than you.

“what am i here for?” you finally speak up. you stop chopping up vegetables as you wait for his answer. he arms go lax around you.

“hm? what do you—”

“you’re never here and i never see you. so, what am i here for?” you immediately cut him off. you don’t want to get angry again. you wish you didn’t care anymore, the way it seems he doesn’t.

“because i love you.” you scoff and laugh bitterly. you shove his arms from around your waist and go back to cutting. your chops are harsh and loud compared to earlier.

satoru knows he’s messed up but for some reason he doesn’t know how not to. how is he supposed to explain that the reason he hasn’t been around as much is because he can’t stand to look at you. he doesn’t think that in a mean way. he loves you more than he’s ever loved anything which is why it hurts so much.

he doesn’t know what he’s doing. he’s sacred. scared that one day everything will fall apart. when he looks at you he sees everything he’s ever wanted. when you have everything and you hold it in the palm of your hand it feels fragile. he doesn’t want to break you. he doesn’t want to break this, what’s between you two. it seems that’s where it’s headed anyway.

“hey. look at me.” he tries to touch your arm but you immediately move from his grasp. he hears you sniffling as you continue to cut more vegetables. you frustratedly wipe away the tears that obstruct your view.

“you’re going to cut yourself. just stop for a second.” to his surprise he’s able to successfully remove the knife from your hands. unfortunately, your sniffles only escalate to sobs. he feels his heart plummet into the pit of his stomach. he immediately grabs your face in both hands. he thumbs fail at wiping away your unending tears.

“can…can you just tell me the truth?” your cries subdue long enough for you to speak. “what’s happened between us? is it me?”

“no.” satoru’s voice is shaky as he cuts you off. “you’re perfect. it’s my fault.” and now satoru is crying. his hands feel numb and his chest hurts.

you reach up to wrap your hands around his that are placed on your face. “tell me.” your watery eyes stare bore into his. this is the first time you’ve actually looked at him since he got home. it hurts just like it does every time. he feels that familiar pain in the pit of his stomach and that ache in his heart.

“i love you, and i know that’s not enough, and that's not a real explanation. i just need you to understand that when i look at you it hurt.” satoru knows he shouldn’t have left it at that when a look of hurt flashes in your eyes. you pull your hands away from his but he immediately grabs them again and places them against his chest.

“i didn’t mean it like that. i just…i’m scared. i want you forever. but when i look at you my stupid brain tells me that this won’t last forever.” the lump forming in his throat cuts him off. his eyes burn and his throat burn and everything burns.

your lips part and you're unsure what to say. you can’t tell him that you’re his forever because unfortunately, you can’t tell the future. you want to be though. no matter how much this whole situation broke your heart into tiny pieces, you would go through it again if it mean satoru would finally bare his soul to you.

“i’m here now though.” you smile sadly at him. “there’s no way to know if this will last forever, but i know it won’t if you keep pushing me away.” satoru knows you’re right. he has always known that what he was doing was stupid.

you pull your hands from his grasp this time you wipe away his tears. “stay here with me and i promise i’m not going anywhere.” you whisper.

satoru pulls you close and rests his forehead against yours. “i love you.” he didn’t even need to say it. you see it in his eyes and for the first time, you realize he does care.

“i love you more.” and the spark is back in his eyes. he rolls his very red eyes in fake annoyance.

“even in a sappy time like this you’re trying to outdo me.” you laugh for the first time in a while and it’s music to his ears.

“well you just confessed your deep and darkest fear of losing me so now i have to outdo you.” satoru rolls his eyes again but this time he grabs your face and pulls it towards his.

his lips brush against yours. “i love you times infinity.” and he knows you can’t beat that so he kisses you before you can speak.

©rinslutz

[woof-verine]

re: the vanessa logan wade situation post deadpool & wolverine

I think vanessa and wade try to make it work again, I really do. I think they talk about it. I think he takes her to dinner a few times and he goes over to her place and they try to make things like they used to be between them until they realize that things can never be that way again because THEY will never be that way again. both of them have changed, are changing still, are growing upward and outward and also … apart.

wolverine tentatively reintroduces himself to the x men and wade tags along. vanessa starts her new position at work and that comes with way more responsibilities and way less time for anything else. she’s more serious than she used to be. wade is, too, but in a different way. one day when the x men go out on a mission, wade suits up too because he “has nothing better to do.” logan rolls his eyes but lets him come and stares down the other x men when they ask what the hell wade is doing there. deadpool doesn’t shut up the whole mission. he also does a good job. soon he comes on another mission. then another one. wade keeps weird hours because wolverine is always on call with the x men, and now deadpool is kind of unofficially on call when wolverine is. vanessa needs eight hours of sleep to wake up early to get to her job on time. she isn’t a stripper anymore. and wade… well wade’s looking like less and less of a merc. when wade isn’t sleeping over at vanessa’s, he doesn’t have to worry about someone killing her in the middle of the night while they’re looking for him. wolverine can handle whatever comes after him. he can handle whatever comes after wolverine. when logan wakes up tense and violent from a nightmare in the middle of the night, wade is there and he can’t hurt him. when wade wakes up in a cold sweat from nightmares of his own, he doesn’t have to explain it to logan, because logan already knows what it’s like. slowly, wade’s world unwinds itself from vanessa’s and wraps around logan’s. it’s almost so slow they don’t know it’s happening. but it happens.

and one morning, maybe after a couple of months being back together, wade and vanessa wake up on one of the increasingly rare nights they spend together, and they look at each other and realize that they are different now. too different. and then it ends, to quote t.s. eliot, not with a bang but with a whimper

[enhaven]

[7:39pm] — sjy (m.)

pairing ⇢ jake x reader

summary ⇢ jaeyun’s wondering which part of his fit made you barge to his place when he has a flight to catch.

warnings ⇢ unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, orgasm delay/denial, he takes it from behind, this is a bit toxic but idk it’s angsty too ig

a/n: change of plans. was gonna post something else but i saw this edit again on twt someone help me i can’t do this

you honestly have no idea which one it is.

but Jake doesn’t stop asking you, delaying your orgasm each time you respond with a noncoherent answer. you don’t even know why he does when he’s supposed to leave a couple of minutes ago.

you caught him by the door earlier just in time when he was about to close it, throwing yourself at him for a tight hug. he instantly put his arms around you, returning it with the same intensity without a word.

he knows you after all. which is why his incessant questions irked you a lot.

“tell me baby, was it the chains?” he rasps behind you, leaning his body closer to yours. by doing so, your skin and his touches and you feel the cold of his necklace brushing against your burning skin.

it doesn’t help that his pace turned into slow strokes now, allowing you to feel every inch of his cock while he hits that soft spot inside you. his hand that was gripping your hips comes up to part the hair that was covering the back of your neck.

then his plump lips are mouthing your shoulders, trailing sideways throughout your neck until he reaches the tip of your ear and bites it.

“jake..jake-y please” you beg for the nth time but he can’t seem to hear you with how loud he’s being, moaning right by your ear as his body pins you to the surface.

“you can’t just come here and not precisely tell me why right?” he asks again with that thick accent of his that sounds so good in your ears.

a deep chuckle resonates from him when you whine but you're hoping that's enough of an answer. if you didn’t hear the mocking tone in this voice, you’d mistake it for something else.

how can you tell him that it’s because you miss him. you can’t possibly inform him that knowing he might use it against you later on.

“ah..j-jaeyun…”

“fuck, you can’t really resist me can’t you?” he continues, ignoring your pleas as he leans back up and fastens his pace.

he’s right, you can’t. or you wouldn’t come running here to see him before he leaves the country for you don’t know how long. ending whatever between you was clearly a mistake when by the end of the day, you’d always come running back to him.

it took one video he posted on ig for your resolve to crumble.

now you’re moaning uncontrollably against the kitchen island, holding the sides of the surface with all your might as he fucks you relentlessly from behind. it must’ve been you moaning jaeyun the entire time, something that you noticed a few times since sleeping with him.

he did say he likes it when you call him that.

"c-close, i'm close..."

"i know baby, i can feel you gripping me so tight" he groans, throwing his head back when he feels your warm cum around his dick. he slows his thrusts then, hand switching from supporting his strength to caressing your twitching body.

god he’d love to pull your hair and do more but you look so spent already, panting so hard with your cheeks planted on the surface.

“so it’s the glasses then” he chuckles amusingly after catching your eyes staring at the sunglasses sitting across your face that the company sent for him to wear.

“yeah..owh!”

jake hurriedly pulls your body up, turning you around before inserting himself back in your pussy.

“fuck, baby, i–..”

“want it inside me?” you ask like you’re offering his favourite ice cream but your eyes are half-lidded. he couldn’t take it anymore, a few curses escaping his lips as he slams his hips against yours.

“mhmm, always, s-shit, always” he groans against your neck, never forgetting to leave kisses while you thread your hands his moussed hair.

oh how you’d love to hear that word from him in another scenario but you’d take this. even if it’s just because of the heat of the moment.

“give it to me..then..” your sensitive walls welcomed his load, relishing feeling so full of his cum. he brings his face close to yours, his habit of biting his lower lip spurring you to clench around his cock.

you’re tempted to kiss him, wanting to feel those full lips against yours but you digress. he’s probably waiting for it but you can’t add it to the plethora of dumbassery that you’ve done because of him.

.

he stays inside you for a while until he’s done riding out his high even though his phone won’t stop ringing. he’s purposefully ignoring it, continuing to leave wet kisses along your neck so you nudge him to take it.

“the babies have been calling” he laughs breathlessly, pushing his hair back while his other hand types reply in their group chat. he steps back and walks around, probably looking for a tissue box to clean you up a bit.

how sweet. it made you grimace internally.

“you’re surely get an earful from wonie” you reply fondly while he wipes his cum spilling out from you. the mention of his friends whom he treats like little brothers momentarily distracted you.

then you remembered that he might miss his flight because of you so you stop him, taking over so he could redress and fix himself.

“i’ll be back before you know it” he grabs your jaw and gives you a kiss on your lower cheek, so near your lips before picking up his black leather bag somewhere beside you.

as much as jake wanted to kiss you, he wasn’t sure if you wanted it on your lips. he did see the hesitation on your face earlier while you were lost in a trance, staring at his lips. he's not sure what's stopping you but it must be linked to your reason for letting him fuck you again.

you watch Jake fling his bag over his shoulders, putting on the sunglasses before he retreats to the door.

oh he’ll be back for sure, but certainly not to you. that’s why you lied earlier, playing it safe knowing how unpredictable Jake could be. having him again calmed your fear of losing him for good but you've long realized how temporary this is, a facade that you're hoping to keep up for as long as you can.

.

e/n: i tried freewriting in my other blogs and i feel like it’s making write lmao so here we are, not proofread or edited 💋🤧

[multicohn]

summary: lewis feels insecure about the age gap between him and his girlfriend when he watches her interact with the younger drivers

warnings: age gap ( not specified )

pairing: younger! fem! reader x lewis hamilton

genre: angst ( if you squint ), fluff

face claim: no one

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flashback

y/n was busy typing away on her laptop when he walked into the library, lewis didn’t know why he felt like going to one, but did so out of impulse. at the time, she didn’t stand out to him and y/n was just another person that was there when he was. but, then he noticed how the desk she sat at started piling up with more and more books until he could barely see her.

then one day, she wasn’t there.

lewis found himself intrigued by what she was doing — is she a student? if so, what does she study? is it apart of her job? what does she do? he pondered on about the ( hair colour ) girl and wanted to ask, but felt himself slowly lose confidence the longer she didn’t show up.

after a few weeks of being away, lewis once again found himself entering the library and immediately moved towards the desk that the ( hair colour ) girl sat at and was relived to see her, but furrowed his eyebrows at seeing her sleeping.

“hey” lewis shook her gently, but she jumped and immediately brought her fists up. his eyes widened and he took a step back before raising his hands

“just making sure you were alright” she put her fists down in embarrassment before rubbing her eyes

“oh, yeah, sorry. just tired, do you happen to know the time?” lewis looked down at his watch and read the time which made her groan

“i’m going to be late”

lewis wasn’t sure what took over him, but saying the words; “i could take you” should’ve never left his mouth

“i don’t trust strangers” she glared at him and lewis knew he messed up

“do you not know who i am?”

“…am i supposed?” he sat down in the chair in front of her and she raised at eyebrow at his actions

“have you ever heard of formula one?”

“no. are you like a scientist or chemist or something?”

y/n would later search him up once she left and upon realising how famous he was, y/n wanted to dig a hole and bury herself in it. a scientist? chemist? why couldn’t she have just kept her mouth shut and ran away when he tried to start conversation?

y/n had honestly thought that lewis wouldn’t talk to her anymore and at the time was just oddly concerned about her being asleep, but the next day he sat with her and was curious about what she was doing. y/n has never had anyone so interested in her and found it strange, but also oddly comforting. unless, they were adults, y/n never cared much about age gaps and lewis wasn’t particularly worried about such since y/n acted much older. he didn’t even know that she was younger than him until he asked — it did feel a bit strange, but she is an adult, so lewis took a chance and asked her out on a date.

he couldn’t stop smiling when she agreed.

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when lewis appeared at the british grand prix with an unknown girl beside him, the internet broke down. they were quick to find out about y/n l/n who is just a simple girl that is currently studying ( subject ) while working ( job ). she was someone who no one could’ve ever imagined dating a seven-time world champion.

she didn’t model, wasn’t an actress or any kind of musician. in the words of fans, y/n is deemed as basic — even her style was non-existent before dating lewis.

“toto” y/n’s grip on lewis’ hand tightened as they walked towards his boss

“lewis” he greeted warmly before looking at her, “this must be y/n, correct? i’ve heard much about you” she shook his hand with a small smile before lewis kissed the top of her head / temple / cheek ( depends on height )

“mick should be here soon with carmen — she’s geroge’s girlfriend — then i’ll introduce to you some of the others” lewis has talked about his friends, both current and former, and was more than happy to finally introduce her to the current roster of racers, but also wanted to take things slow in case she got too nervous

mick soon appeared with carmen and they both welcomed y/n warmly before taking her away from lewis so could get ready for the meeting and race.

~

y/n met a few of the other drivers who were her age or close to and she oddly got along well with them. lewis didn’t understand certain slang or terms y/n used, but she didn’t mind and explained them, but talking with someone who understood her strange humour made her feel less nervous / anxious.

unbeknownst to y/n, lewis was watching her interact with the younger drivers and couldn’t help the feeling that bubbled up within him. she didn’t care about their age gap since they’re both adults, but seeing her get along so well with them made him feel like she might be better off with someone closer to her age; they could understand each other better, the internet might accept them more —

“lewis, mate. do you see your girlfriend? carmen said she left her with ( driver closest to your age )” geroge looked up from his phone to see him nod silently. furrowing his eyebrows, geroge followed lewis’ line of sight to see y/n laughing with ( driver closest to your age )

“oh, there they are” he started walking towards them before lewis could stop him and only sighed before following

y/n lit up at seeing her boyfriend and smiled lightly at geroge who introduced himself. ( driver closest to your age ) quickly said his goodbyes before going towards his garage, lewis hesitatingly grabbed her hand.

geroge noticed and coughed before looking around, “i think i hear carmen calling me” he rushed away making y/n tilt her head in confusion before looking at lewis for an answer, but he just stared at their intertwined hands

“lewis? are you alright?”

it went for a few seconds.

“are you really okay with dating me?”

“wh-what?” y/n asked shocked, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“shouldn’t you date someone closer in age?”

“where’s this coming from?”

“i just thought-“ she cut him off quickly

“i wouldn’t be dating you if i had a problem with our ages. honestly, i don’t care” y/n clarified and tightened her grip

“do you want to tell me what happened to make you think this, again? or should we wait till after the race” lewis shook his head

“just seeing you interact with ( driver closest to your age ) so easily made me think…”

y/n placed her free hand on his cheek and leaned into to kiss him gently. lewis felt the tense release from his shoulders as she pulled back, looking rather embarrassed about kissing him so passionately in public.

“let’s go to the garage, wanna sit in my car?”

“can i really?!” y/n asked excitedly and he chuckled with a nod

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extra scene:

mick had seemed rather excited to introduce y/n to a certain former driver while carmen had use the bathroom. he greeted him warmly while y/n smiled once she made eye contact with the former mercedes driver.

“nice to meet you, i’m nico rosberg” he seemed rather awkward, but so did y/n as they shook hands

“i know, i’m y/n. lewis talks about you” nico paused and she felt his grip tighten ever so slightly

“he does?” he asked in a quiet tone that even y/n wasn’t sure if she heard him right given the amount of noise around them

“yeah? a lot, actually” he nodded quietly and looked behind her making y/n turn. she smiled upon seeing her boyfriend walking towards them

nico froze as he approached and kissed y/n gently before looking at his former friend.

“i see you’ve met my girl” nico nodded silently as lewis turned his attention to her

“well, it was nice to see you mate” he hit his arm lightly before taking y/n’s hand and leading her away towards the mercedes garage