#“it's because he wanted to know if he was loved”

[sugucide]

one thing about satoru gojo is that he's a freak.

he'll try anything once, and then three more times for good measure. anything! as long as it ends with him emptying his balls, prefer on or inside of you, he's a very happy man to entertain your weird requests.

this, though, is too weird!

"you want to have vanilla sex?" he gawks at you.

you're laying back on his bed, bare and smiling up at him as he climbs over you. he's hard, sure, but he's not flooded with the excitement of your usual ideas.

"why don't i put the collar back on?" he suggests tapping the tip of your nose. "oh! or we could play with those candles again... or you could make me squirt... no? roleplay? anal? some music, at least?"

you shake your head, and if you weren't so damn cute satoru might be more upset than he is. "you know," you start, "plenty of couples have plain sex regularly. i just want to feel you."

"we aren't like most couples," he grimaces. "im the strongest. and you're the sexiest. i don't think she's physically capable of having boring sex with you, baby."

"stop calling your dick a she," you stare up at him. "please? you said you'd try anything."

satoru kisses your lips gently, as boringly as he can do without getting too worked up. you are naked underneath him, after all. "i said that hoping you'd propose pegging me. or letting me put that dildo of yours down your throat while i—"

"just fuck me," you whisper.

and because satoru is secret a lover before he is a freak, he complies. with a gentle nod and a few seconds to line himself up with you, he pushes inside and lets you lock your legs around his waist before he starts a gentle pace with you.

it feels good, of course, it's you. but there's something sweet to the way he fucks you— no, makes love to you, that isn't there when gags and blindfolds and candle wax are in the way. it's just you and him, eyes locked as he becomes whole with you in the most intimate way possible.

he realises, when your eyes flutter shut and you pull him impossibly closer to whisper sweet nothings in his ear, that he might just like boring sex.

"i love you so much," he coos. "like having you like this. just us. god i love you, baby. i think i needed this."

the two of you cum in sync with eachother. you shake and tighten around his cock and he spills into you with sweet moans that sound a little more raw and vulnerable than they usually do. he kisses you silly, peppers his lips all over your face until you're laughing underneath him.

and he pulls back to look at your face, and nods to himself. you smile, and push his white hair out of his face with a gentle tilt of your head.

"what's that look for?" you ask.

and that's when you notice the tears welling in his eyes. the tremble of his lip as he recognises a million different feelings at once. and with a sniffle, and a shaky breath, he grins.

"let's get married."

[kianamaiart]

IDWTBAMG CHARACTER FUN FACTS

Well, some fun facts and mostly lore or character relationship stuff. Under the cut!

AIKA

Aika became the next Star Guardian at age 13. She’s 15 now

Aika’s want to help people and relentless positivity were part of the reason she was chosen to be the Star Guardian: Guardian of the Stars in the first place. While her love for the job has fizzled out, this aspect of her character still a core part of her.

She’s very kind and gentle person but that kinda goes out the window when magical duties are brought into the equation

Her and Hoshi care about one another but their relationship is currently a bit tense. They’re usually pretty quick to make jabs at one another

She struggled to get used to the platform shoes in her magical girl outfit

She LOVES food. And her eyes are usually way too big for her stomach leading to many a food coma

Aika and her teammates worked in secret for the most part, not really being allowed to “exist in the real world”. Because of this, with the free time she had, Aika would read a lot (she’s actually very book smart)

Aika loves extreme sports and is an adrenaline junky. However, rollercoasters freak her out for some reason

Aika drags Zira into lots of new eperiences. Zira usually ends up appreciating the experiences after the fact 

Aika’s a morning person

ZIRA

Zira is smart but doesn’t apply herself in school

They have a lot of artistic interests, particularly art, music and fashion

She likes the idea of writing fanfiction in theory but writing’s sooooo much work. Any ideas she has just kinda live in her head, causing her to zone out and daydream a ton

While shy for the most part, Zira can be very blunt and isn’t necessarily a pushover

Prior to Aika, she didn’t have a lot (any) friends at school but she’s mostly content doing her own thing

They’d hang out in Miss’ classroom a lot, either to show her Moon Sailor stuff against her will or just to have lunch

Zira loves playing video games and especially loves visual novels

Zira develops a crush on Aika pretty quickly. Aika’s kindness, authenticity and bravery is inspiring to Zira. Also Aika’s the only other person her age to really give her the time of day. And also she thinks Aika’s pretty

She thinks Hoshi’s really cool and since Aika doesn’t particularly enjoy talking about her job, Zira usually goes to Hoshi for magical girl questions. Initially Hoshi doesn’t trust Zira with that information but is really flattered to have someone who looks up to them and is interested in everything they have to say. So they indulge when appropriate.

Zira’s a night owl

HOSHI

Hoshi saved Aika when she was really young and has kept her safe ever since

Hoshi and Aika started off kind of like siblings but Hoshi then became her boss, making their relationship a bit strained and more complicated

Their role as a magical mascot managerial in nature. They make Aika and her team do their jobs, follow protocol, teach them how to use their powers, keep up morale, do timecards, etc.

While Hoshi oversees this team, their responsibility is primarily to the Star Guardian

Hoshi, much like Aika, used to be really chipper and a bit more goofy but Aika’s kinda worn them down overtime

Hoshi’s not a fan of Earth, but in an effort to better understand Aika’s feelings, tries out being a human and doing Earth activities

Hoshi takes a while to get used to their human form. They’re really clumsy in it

They have a hard time making hands for their human form. Their hands are slightly different every time but equally terrifying. They eventually get better at making them though.

Hoshi doesn't use their human form too much. Most people just assume their Aika's weird pet bird

Hoshi doesn't need to eat but discovers they enjoy the act of eating

ECLIPSE

Eclipse is one of the few humans that know that Aika and the other magical girls exist

He met Aika pretty early on in her magical girl career and he was immediately enamored with her

Since finding about magical girls, he’s obsessively tried keeping track of them, leading him to start acting out in order to get their attention. They only really care because he knows their secret and they play along

He and Devoid made his current outfit together. DeVoid wanted to make it black but Eclipse was set on making it very bright and showy

Eclipse currently resides with DeVoid. He gets on her nerves sometimes but they both do care about each other

Eclipse is a pretty good cook 

Eclipse isn’t particularly hateful but he’s really got beef with Zira for some reason

It’s hard to tell if Eclipse is really in love with Aika or if he just loves the concept of their nonexistent relationship

Eclipse has a lovely singing voice

His real name is Elio

LADY DeVOID

DeVoid was banished to space by a Star Guardian. For a LONG time she lived (unconsciously) as a sort of celestial being that would spit out monsters that the Star Guardians for many generations would have to face. While not ideal it was better than fighting DeVoid before she got to full power.

DeVoid finally wakes up in the present timeline, with no memories other than being banished by a Star Guardian and wanting revenge and knowing that she’s supposed to be able to create monsters. Unfortunately for her, she doesn’t remember how to use her powers. She doesn’t even remember her name, so she came up with “Lady DeVoid”

DeVoid loves human reality TV. Specifically competition shows. She loves how petty and evil people become

Reality TV is where most of her knowledge of humans comes from

Though DeVoid is pretty stoic, her ears are very expressive

DeVoid taught Eclipse how to do his makeup

She really likes Eclipse’s cooking

When she’s out and about she’s usually wearing sunglasses because it’s simply too bright for her

DeVoid does have to work a normal job in the human world and simply goes by “Dee”

People rarely question her appearance (because that’s just rude). But when people do ask what’s up with her horns she just says “it’s a condition” and that’s usually enough for people to just end the convo there.

MISS

Miss loves her job more than anything. She’s a very accomplished teacher and takes a lot of time to make sure all of her students succeed

Miss cares about Zira a lot. Always staying in her classroom just in case Zira wants to stop by for lunch, giving her advice or giving her extra tutoring as needed 

Because of Zira, Miss has become a closet Moon Sailor fan

Though Aika’s just started attending school, she and Miss have bonded quite a bit. Aika’s positive disposition and cheeriness bring Miss a lot of joy

Miss keeps her personal life (not that she really has one) out of work but finds herself opening up a little more than she’d like to Aika and Zira

Miss used to get really antsy during summer breaks, leading her to start teaching summer school to fill the time

Her workaholic nature was the reason for her and her ex-wife’s divorce

Miss has gone on one date since her divorce. The idea of having starting over is exhausting to her so she’s mostly okay just being single

Miss doesn’t really like coffee but she drinks a lot of it out of necessity

Miss has a ton of tattoos

[angelltheninth]

Love your LADS writings! Could we maybe get them reacting to their girlfriend wearing their shirt?

I love writing for LADS, now that Caleb is here there's even more hot men to fawn over.

Pining: Zayne, Rafayel, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, sharing clothes, domestic fluff, clothes shopping, possessiveness, being playful, flirting

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Wrote this a bit fast because my new PC came in today so I need to set it up. It's gonna be awesome.

Zayne pretends not to notice that it's his shirt you're always wearing in the mornings when you stay over at his place. It's only a shirt, he's got many more just like it. So why is it getting to him when you wear it? Simple, it looks cuter on you, and he tries not to get worked up about it, that would go against his stoic, professional self. However when he sees you waring his clothes he always tells you that it looks good on you. A sort of subltle encouragement that you should do it more often, and also spend more time at his place because he tries not to leave his clothes at your place.

Rafayel wants to buy some matching clothes when he saw that you wear his on ocassion. He's always had a good sense of style and is very happy that you do to, furthermore that you like it so much that you want to wear what he waers. When he sees you wearing his clothes he makes sure to memorize what it looked like on you so he can sketch it later. Before he knows it there are a dozen sketches of you in his clothes. Not that it's a bad thing by any means and he thinks you're catching on to him buying matching clothes because every time you're on a date you're pointing out cute outfits that you say would look great on him.

Xavier doesn't think much of it when he leaves some of his stuff at your place when he comes and goes. What he does think about is how his pants looked on you, too long, cozy, some a bit tight on you, others hanging off your hips, all depending on what you get your hands on at the time. The scene is almost domestic, seeing you not even think about putting on something of his, you don't even say why you do it and he's fascinated by that. Playfuly he tugs on the waistband of the pants and tells you he wants them back, only for you to turn the tables and tell him to take them off you if he wants them so bad.

Sylus is very perceptive of what you do when you're around him so there's no way he wouldn't notice you wearing his fancy shirts around the apartment. Those aren't exactly outfits for casual wear so there was no way you could have mistaken them for one of your own, which means you took them on purpouse. A man like him doesn't do well when other people touch what belongs to him without his permission. It's bad bussiness practice, and dangerous when you're in deep with criminals like he is. But he could be persuaded to let you get away with it, only because you're his girl and his girl can do whatever she wants with and to him.

Caleb leaves his hoodie at your place on purpouse. He did it because he wanted to use it as an excuse to visit again early, he didn't expect that you'd be wearing it when you opened the door for him. All the blood rushed to his brain and caused him to stop all train of thought for a few moments before he smirked and leaned in to whisper how cute you look, his breath hot against your lips before he claimed them in a seering kiss. From that day on he never mentioned anything about you giving him his clothes back. Why would he want it back when it looks so much better on you, sometimes it's all you wear around him.

[suiana]

yandere! childhood friend who still reminisces about your childhood together. yeah, the two of you may be grown now but he's been your day 1 and he just can't help but think about how you used to cling to him and adore him so much! he wishes you'd still do that but it is what it is. no matter how much he wishes otherwise.

yandere! childhood friend who did everything with you. yeah, that also includes practicing kisses. he's your first kiss, and he's never gonna let you forget that. you said you wanted to get better and who is he to refuse? he can't pass up such a prime opportunity! and it's not like he wants anyone else to take it. god no. that would be a tragedy.

"yeah, remember our kissing practices? hah, we were such kids back then!" he watches as you snicker, feeling a warm flush creep up his spine. god, of course he remembers. young and immature as you both were, you both learned together. that's all that really matters to him. "thanks to you, i can now makeout with my partners with ease. you're the best man." and has he told you how muchit infuriates him that you're using your experience to get with others? to please them with the mouth that once touched his? nah, he really can't stand for it. but he isn't allowed to say anything. he's just a childhood friend after all. not for long though.

yandere! childhood friend who wishes he would've accepted your offer to learn how to fuck as well. but no, he just had to be way too delusional back then and tell you to wait for the right one. he must've thought that you'd feel the same and confess then he'd court you slowly before getting to that stage... that never happened unfortunately. not yet at least. he'll make it happen.

yandere! childhood friend who's still a hopeless romantic at heart. a delusional one but a romantic nonetheless. he brings you out on "platonic dates" or whatever the fuck you like to call it, comfort you after your shitty excuse of a partner dumps you, and treats you like the deity that you are. you only deserve the best and he'll be there to provide. none of these losers can't treat you well. he can. he really hopes it'll help you see him as a potential boyfriend!

"i just," you blow your nose, tears streaming down your cheeks as your childhood friend rubs at your back tenderly. "don't know why he'd want to dumo me! we've been going strong for a year already! it's so out of the blue!" yeah, out of the blue huh... not really out of the blue for someone who's been actively theeatening that poor excuse of a man. that menas him, obviously. why he's been threatening him, you ask? because he's not treating you the way you should be treated, duh! sure you look happy but are you really? probably not, he's sure of it. "hey hey, don't worry... I'm here now, aren't i?" he always is, and he always will. you just need to understand that fact and you'll start seeing him in a different light too. don't worry, he has lots of patience. just... don't go sleeping with other people again.

yandere! childhood friend who may or may not be totally super duper mega in love with you. yeah, definitely not in love with you. that would be weird, right? come on, he's your childhood friend! sure you two might've kissed when you were kids and promised to marry one another but those were kiddy promises! that's all they are! he... totally doesn't believe you actually wanna marry him and be his forever and ever.

"so have you started thinking about your future?" he pauses at your question, rubbing at his empty ring finger. future, huh? funny how you ask that when you two are destined to be together at the end of it all. i mean, the two of your promised it as kids, didn't you? sure you're exploring now but at the end if the day, it's him that you come back to, don't you? even if just as a friend. but that's the present, not the future. "nah, not really. just wanna focus on the current moment, y'know?" bullshit, and he knows it. but he doesn't wanna scare you away. not yet at least. you're still out lookign for others which means you haven't come round to the idea of you two together. not to worry, he'll give you a little more time to see how good he is. how good things could be between you two if you just gave him the chance. "i mean, you're here with me." he chuckles, taking your hand in his before placing it on his cheek. you're warm. he likes your warmth, it's so soothing. "that's more than enough for me." half lidded eyes gaze at you, full of emotion and hidden longing before he hums softly. the teo fo you sit in the park in silence, enjoying each other's presence. in the moonlight, everything seems to slow and engulf the two of you in a quiet embrace. he only wishes you would just love him back already. "yeah, I'm glad to be by your side too, best friend." ...he really hates those words. don't worry, good things come to those who wait. and you will be his in due time. you've already had his heart, now all he needs is yours.

[ghouljams]

Taking the chance on masturbating when roommate!Soap gets back from deployment, trying to hold you moans in so he doesn't know, even hiding your legs under a blanket on your bed as you press you vibrator against your cunt. Scrolling through your favorite porn site and wiggling your hips against the head of the wand, trying to find the angle that makes you feel like you'll explode. It's not a difficult task, but once you hit it, the vibrator pulsing against your clit in a way that's always stunningly (wonderfully) electric, you can't hold your moans in. They catch and hold your breath in your chest, your teeth digging into your lip to try and breathe through your nose anything to keep from making a sound.

But it's inevitable, your lips part and your shuddering breaths bring moans with every exhale, and your moans bring your pervert roommate. Who doesn't even bother knocking before he tries the door and tumbles into your room like he's missing his favorite movie.

"Johnny!" You yelp, the intrusion bursting embarrassment over your hot skin. You pull the vibrator tighter against yourself and clamp your legs together as if you could hide from him. Your muscles go tense as your cunt pulses and flutters around nothing.

"Aw," he clicks his tongue, "dinnae mean tae scare ya hen, heard a noise and thought you needed mah help." You might have bought that excuse three months ago but not now, and you must show it on your face because his carefree smile smolders into something mirthful. "You hurt yourself love? Want me tae kiss it better?"

Your cheeks burst with heat and you throw your vibrator at his stupid mohawked head. "Get out Johnny!" You yell, his laughter ringing through the apartment as he scurries away.

[bluemoonscape]

No no listennnn it’s the way Obi-Wan drags out the first ‘a’ in Anakin’s name. It’s the way everyone else ignores the hyphen in Obi-Wan’s name and runs it all together but Anakin pronounces every syllable slowly and clearly. It’s how Anakin was the only constant in Obi-Wan’s life from the time Qui-Gon died, how he threw all of his energy into keeping Anakin safe and sheltered, because he’d already seen too many horrors as a slave. It’s about how Anakin went to Obi-Wan’s room every night for a year because he was afraid he would disappear like Qui-Gon and his mom, and Obi-Wan lost sleep because he doesn’t know how to swim. It’s how Anakin grumbled and complained about Obi-Wan’s teaching to others because his feelings were so muddled and confused and yet he would die for him in a heartbeat and thrived on his approval. How Anakin, hours after losing his mom horrifically and suddenly, threw himself into a battle with Count Dooku on Geonosis and lost his arm to save Obi-Wan because he couldn’t lose him too. How Obi-Wan tried to steer Anakin from attachment but in the process became irrevocably attached himself, admitting multiple times to loving Anakin, passing down the gift his own Master gave him for his birthday years ago that meant nothing to Obi-Wan when he got it but meant everything to Anakin because it was from Obi-Wan, holding onto Anakin’s lightsaber and cloak when all else of him was lost, taking care of his children because they were living pieces of him. It’s that they called each other and asked after the other constantly when they’re apart during the Clone Wars. It’s that Ahsoka was technically Anakin’s Padawan but they thought of her as theirs and she called them her parents to others. It’s the little things like Anakin modifying Obi-Wan’s R4 droid to look like his own R2 unit. It’s the big things like them being able to sense one another from lightyears away even after Anakin turns. It’s Obi-Wan willfully turning a blind eye to Anakin’s violations of the code because he wanted him to be happy more than he wanted him to be a good Jedi. Anakin still referring to him as “Master” even after their apprenticeship is over, to their last battle; Anakin wishing that Obi-Wan would stay with him in his time of need rather than go to fight General Grievous and end the war; that they were the greatest Jedi to live, at the end of the age of heroes, “the best for last” and they were so insanely, disgustingly, beyond attached despite the Code’s teachings on what made a Jedi good, and they were the best. They were the best because they were together. Because they were Kenobi and Skywalker and that became one name, the name of the Open Circle Fleet, name of the greatest duo the Jedi had ever seen. I consider almost nothing from the sequel trilogy canon EXCEPT for the force dyad because you can’t tell me they weren’t one and never even knew because that was just how they were. They just figured they matched each other’s freak too hard. That’s just them.

[aurorangen]

Guilt consumed Vincent whenever he lied to Renee. Vincent thought it was risky to let her know about investigating the secret basement with Isaac. She'd want to help and that meant gathering unwanted attention from the police and the media. When they arrived, Vincent sat there in his car, shoulders slumped. He tried to think. He strained to think. But seeing his childhood home only triggered traumatic events from his past, obscuring all his plans for the day.

"Isaac…I don't think I'm ready today," he said, hiding the tremor in his voice. "It's okay, we can take our time to solve it," Isaac had his own nerves seeing Vincent's childhood home; they were facing the unknown after all. "I'm ready whenever you are."

[girl-lostconnection]

I just wanna say I love your fruit bat!reader and I just had to think about the boys further misunderstanding when reader maybe has a darker aesthetic, but reader doesn't get at all the connection cause like yeah black's just a neat colour, oh I guess vampires are cool. Wait me? *Mouthful of orange or something* me no fruits all the way? I don't know what you mean.

On one side it would be incredibly funny as misunderstanding but the devil is whispering in my ear so let’s walk the other way.

Imagine Reader freshly selected to join the team, nervous about meeting new people who they read EVERYTHING on, just to be ready.

And no one is hostile, right? They are friendly, almost too friendly, which grates on your nerves a little but you know, maybe you are thinking too much about it?

Works up until the first joke about the vampires, huge wolf operator (you find out later that his call sign is Ghost).

“Know why people don’t like workin’ with vampire bats?”, the question catches you off guard, your eyes snapping to the man’s eyes and you tilt your head to the side. You don’t know him yet, you aren’t sure how much of a reaction is allowed in this circumstance.

“‘Cause they are pain in the neck”, he announces, his brown eyes boring a hole into you, his tail wagging like he is waiting for you to start laughing.

You don’t. You stare right back at him, fingers flexing so the sharp points of your claws dig into your palm and you manage a smile that feels a little too forced.

Big wolf in front of you apparently sees it as well, because you can see the way his jaw flexes under the mask.

So for some reason he decides to give it another go. (Only months later you will find out that Simon was desperately scrambling for all the bat x vampire puns he remembered, thinking that the first one sounded a little too abrasive)

“What drink does bat order at the bar?”, he asks, his left ear giving in a small twitch that catches your eye. He sure is big for the wolf, most of their family you met in the past were tall and lean but this guy is built like a bloody tank.

“What?”, you ask, heart beating a little harder than you’d like it, anxiety coiling in your gut.

“A Bloody Mary”, wolf hums out, his ear giving in another twitch and corners of your mouth curl upwards. Cute.

Wolf’s tail starts to wag again, eyes satisfied as he walks off and you follow him to see your new space and unpack.

Isn’t so bad for the first meeting, right?

But in hindsight every interaction from then on felt…somehow forced. Recurring about blood and meat and fucking Halloween. Remarks about wearing too much black or the way Soap once chuckled at the silver chain with a beautiful red cross. Not a religious symbol but simply an accessory you liked.

It all was piling up so quickly you decided to just…stay on the outside. Maybe that would be better. Maybe they were trying to tell you that they didn’t want a bat and didn’t like bats.

That they didn’t like you.

It takes time to undo and the process is slow — you are a tough nut to crack, but they don’t try to crack you. Just…make amends, yeah?

Your relationship with Simon makes a cycle when he peels you oranges, eyes soft as you devour pieces of peaches.

“Do you know what’s a vegetarian vampire bat’s favourite fruit, luv?”, he hums out, placing a peeled orange in your bowl, something in his tone making you feel fuzzy.

“What is it?”, his tail is wagging and god the way he looks at you makes something tender in your chest ache, you mouth voluntarily falling open when he pushes a piece of peach in it, eyes crinkling.

“A neck-tarine”, Simon murmurs, his tail wagging harder when you laugh after a beat, juices from fruit dripping down your chin.

You shake your head at him in faux disbelief and he grins, popping a slice of orange in his mouth.

“Can do it all night”

You roll your eyes and instinctively smack his hand away when he tries to steal your bowl.

“That’s what I’m afraid of”

[bbokicidal]

skz + sharing

you know what i'm talkin' about. [re-upload from @chvnlix!]

MDNI (18+) - Sexual Content, Pure Smut, literally no fluff. Just sex.

genre: smut pairing: ot8 [duos] x reader warnings: sharing is caring <3

I have to thank one of my LOVELY anons who reblogged a LOT of my work - thank you, angel!! you're doing us all a great service by gathering these so I can repost them for others to see once more <333 hahaha

chris will share you with any of the boys - after a certain point in your relationship. it starts because of the younger aussie ogling you when you come to visit them during dance practice - and later that night chris found him outside his bedroom mid-fuck, pulling open the door to drag the other man inside and gesture to your bare body on his bed. you're panting, chest heaving and eyes lidded as you stare over at felix. he's choked up with pink cheeks, but only ten minutes later he's throat deep eating your pussy until you're gasping and choking on your tears. chris, ultimately after that, is more than happy to watch and help the others please you the same way he does. felix is more often than not the one popping around when he hears you two fucking, though. (and minho. minho comes along a lot, too.)

minho will share you with hyunjin. the two share the same lookdown on you sexually. you're smaller than them in every way, so they're both more than happy to pin you against the sheets and fuck into you until you're braindead and your eyes are rolling back into your skull. though minho isn't one to just sit back - he needs to be involved, either fucking your face while hyune takes your pussy or sucking marks over your tits while hyune eats you out with your thighs squeezing around his head. and they're absolutely going to take turns flipping you around and holding you down by your throat as they use you like you're nothing but a free use slut.

changbin will share you with jeongin. it's something about watching the youngest of the group fuck a woman who's older - and hearing him call you noona is just too cute. he's more the type to watch while it happens, absolutely in awe at the way you take charge with jeongin but not with him. you'll ride the maknae until he's damn near in tears, the mattress caving each time and bouncing and squeaking under your movements - or you'll sit on jeongin's face and rock your hips back and forth until he's sputtering and drooling and clawing at your thighs for air, which you absolutely won't give him until his ears are pink.

hyunjin will share you with changbin. hyune takes pride in his arms, in his strength and being able to hold you up while he fucks into you - but watching changbin do it is something else. it makes a rouse of jealousy stir in his chest the first time he invites the older man to fuck with you two, but the jealousy just fuels his lust and he ends up being more rough than ever. changbin is happy to kiss over your body and up your throat while hyunjin holds you by the wrists, pounding into you from behind and keeping you sat up on your knees as you whine. only when you're really putty in their hands is when he'll hand you over, knowing he did that to you - put you in that state - before letting changbin pick you up and press your back to the wall to fuck up into you.

jisung will share you with felix. the sunshine twins take pride in being able to take care of you together, and felix loves it so much when jisung hints at letting him in the bedroom with you. he'll sit back at first and let felix worship over your body until you're squirming and begging for one of their cocks - or both - before moving to your side to whisper sweet nothings and join in on the worshipping. jisung'll get more mushy than ever, fucking into you so sweetly and letting felix use your mouth or your hands or whatever he wants, before letting him have his own turn. one at a time, just to be gentle with you. and they'll both cover you in cum and grin when you're giggling, claiming you're not done and want to keep going. (though they're soft now, that doesn't mean there isn't times they'll invite you to the studio during late hours and fuck you on the couch or up against the desk.)

felix will share you with minho. he's more than happy to start things off and get your clothes on the floor before getting to the good stuff - and minho is too impatient to sit back and just watch the entire thing. he'll let you know he wants you by pressing his cock straining in his jeans right up against your hip, caging you between himself and felix while sucking marks all over your skin. he's the type to leave his presence on you - and felix doesn't seem to mind it at all. they'll fuck into you at the same time, either spitroasting or dp if you're down for it - and though felix would be alright with being done whenever, minho is the type to force multiple orgasms from you until he's satisfied. it leads to long, long nights.

seungmin will share you with jisung. it's a different dynamic, the two. seungmin is happy to shove you around and onto the bed, watching you trip over yourself and let him pull your shorts right off you to land a few hard smacks against your ass. he likes to watch you squirm - and so does jisung, of course. but he'll knead at the handprints seungmin left on you and caress over them to soothe the sting. the dynamic is also different in the sense that jisung is a needy lover. he'll rut into you like a rabbit wanting to breed, barely even pulling out before hitting your cervix with the tip of his cock. he refuses to be so far from you, too impatient and wanting to pull out all the way and leaving you moaning loud; choking and gasping and bouncing back and forth against the mattress beneath you. and when seungmin finally gets his turn it'll be the complete opposite - smooth and long strokes that make you whining for him to go just a little faster - which he of course won't listen to.

jeongin will share you with seungmin. mean, mean, mean. rough dominant men that press the side of your face into the wall, holding you by the back of your neck and slapping your ass so hard that your cheeks are pink and burning by the time they're done. the types to chuckle about it all and barely say anything to you the entire time they fuck you, using your throat until it's raw and you're drooling, tears streaking down your cheeks and jaw sore from being slack. jeongin will let seungmin do whatever he wants - use you however he wants, whatever hole, however fast. and he's the type to keep you busy and occupied even when seungmin is fucking into you, one leg thrown over his shoulder while jeongin keeps his index and middle fingers pushing down on your tongue as you stare up at him with tears in your eyes. he'll coo and watch spit pool, sliding down your cheeks while you gag and whine.

-

© chvnmax [re-uploaded by @ bbokicidal ]

[ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat]

because i liked a boy - spencer reid x fem!reader

somehow a reporter finds out about reader's relationship with none other than her coworker, dr spencer reid and shames her for it during a press conference

genre: flangst wc: 1355 warnings: medialiaison!reader established relationship, slut-shaming, feminism talk, upset spencer, morgan mention, mentioned case involving children

"This is a rough composite sketch of the UnSub. If anyone sees him, please call us using the number on the screen. Any questions?" you speak clearly, eyebrows raised and back straight.

It's a tough case this time, not that any are easy. The ones involving children–like this one–are the worst. You know that. It’s yet to hit you this hard, though. You're used to being in front of a camera all fake smiles and airbrushed to look porcelain but you're struggling to hold it together today. It’s never been easy to see grieving parents begging for their kid’s life on national television.

It also doesn't help that you haven't seen Spencer much these past two days. Ever since HR found out about you two, he’s been trying to keep his distance for professionalism’s sake. You appreciate it, of course, but you wish everything could be normal again. You miss working alongside him, sneaking tiny waist pinches every little while. Maybe you’re codependent.

One of the male reporters holding a microphone asks plainly, like it isn’t rude, “how do you expect this case to go to trial with your ongoing relationship within your team? Isn’t that some sort of conflict of interest?”

Now, how did they find out about that?

Luckily, Hotch steps in before you need to form a response. You’re left flushed and out of sorts, needing some water or something. It’s not like you’ve never had a bad press experience but nothing that came after you specifically. Why do they even care in the first place? Are you really that interesting? Is your love life really that interesting? His mustn’t be.

To Hotch, he spits, “it’s a valid question, Agent, you can’t expect no one to comment on one of your unit’s members sleeping her way to the top or… sleeping her way to getting a case dismissed.”

You want to stay, fight, cry, maybe even guilt him into apologizing, but, to your dismay, you’re pulled away by Morgan who looks just as upset as you do. If there weren’t a room full of people stopping him, you’re sure he would’ve hurt the guy. You don’t want to be dragged away by the action figure that is Derek Morgan so you try to pour your feelings into words. “The conference– the case–!”

Morgan stares at you in a way that very clearly says are you done? And, yes, you guess you are. You sigh, nodding reluctantly.

“Hotch will figure it out,” he assures softly but firmly.

You’re escorted to the break room where you watch the television only to see that very same reporter, spewing his nonsense again. Low and behold, he’s still stuck on the topic of you.

“An anonymous source discloses the identities of two FBI agents with the Behavioural Analysis Unit that are in a relationship of hidden rendezvous.”

The pitter-patter of your heart is louder than usual as he reads out your names along with the loving message, “I guess this proves that women really can’t be trained. What a shame, she’s certainly got–”

With that, you shut off the disgusting noises coming from someone claiming to be a man. You’ve never been good at taking insults but this was something else entirely. Your chest burns. You’re being perceived as a person you’re not. Everything you’ve tried so hard to build could all come crashing down at this very moment if you let it.

All because you liked a boy?

It feels ridiculous, like a step in the wrong direction for all womankind. That’s dramatic, you’re sure, but this is so twenty years ago. What happened to feminism, for fuck’s sakes? You wouldn’t give Spencer up for anything less than solving world hunger, but you wish this whole ordeal could’ve never happened. What if you lose your job? What if you lose this case because you’re too sensitive to male attention for your own good? Unfortunate circumstances led here and you wish it could be simple. It’s a tall order, but you wish UnSubs and all the people who enjoy pinning others down would simply cease to exist. You wish Spencer was here.

As if reading you all the way from canvassing the neighborhood, he’s suddenly visible, walking towards the doorway with quick Converse-sounding steps, Morgan’s hand on his shoulder. He looks worried. What worries you, though, is that he looks guilty. That hurts.

Familiar arms wrap around you as he kneels on the floor in front of the couch. “Hey, I heard what happened. Are you okay?” Spencer whispers, lips pressed into the fabric covering your shoulder.

You ponder the question for a moment before nodding. You’re not quite sure how you feel, if you’re being completely truthful. Criticism was never something you’ve taken well. Not ever. Maybe you deserve it, though. After all, you are sleeping with a coworker. You’re an agent, it’s not appropriate of you in the least. You should’ve kept to yourself, been the good girl the world wanted you to be. Female agents in the big bad FBI are already seen a certain way. You just happened to worsen it with wide-eyed affection.

How he always does, he mutters an explanation, “people like that don’t have anything going for them, you know. They report on others because their own life is insignificant.”

It’s wildly the wrong time to laugh but you do, flushed cheeks plumping from a happy smile. He pulls away and your hands find his face like they always seem to do. “I know.”

He nods. He pushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

He’s so unbelievably pretty that it almost makes you want to cry. Those same somber eyes that you’re sure mirror yours stare deep.

“It just sucks… you know?” you say so very quietly.

Nodding, he chews on his lip. “I know.”

“It’s like… I thought slut-shaming was over,” you laugh bitterly.

You can tell he feels bad. It’s not like this is his fault. You know he believes it is, anyways.

“It should be. It’s ridiculous. This isn’t your fault. That useless guy should be spending the night in a cell for harassing an agent not on the ten o’clock news airing out our personal matters.”

It’s really not often you see him like this, upset and wielding pain-filled threats. It never fails to amuse you. You’re not sure why. Something about the juxtaposition of his usual sweet demeanor and this annoyed ranting one, you suppose.

“It’s kind of funny.”

“Funny?”

You smile and nod, your thumb tracing his lower lip. “A little. We’re the most enthralling news in all of small-town-Colorado.”

While Spencer doesn’t find it quite as giggle-inducing, he mimics the pull of your mouth’s corners and shows his reluctant agreement with a bob of his head. “That is… silly, I guess.”

“We’re basically stars,” you shrug.

In honest disbelief and certainly awe for your ability to brush off the event with humour, he shakes his head, curls falling out of place. Your fingers rush to correct it. The golden eyes you love stay stubbornly put on your own. Breaths mix together in the close proximity despite you not recalling how you got so close. It’s proven difficult to care when his plush lips find yours. Carefully and with love, he kisses you. With no intent, no desire other than to make you feel better. It breaks stickily, the shimmer that once was on your lips now ghosting around his mouth. You grin.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Spencer tenderly mutters.

Gently, you answer, “I’m sure. I mean, we didn’t do anything wrong.”

You believe yourself. You’d never doubt your relationship with Spencer. It just sucks that they had to poke holes in your safe place. That safe place being Spencer. Your home. You know because of your profiler-by-association background that he was right about the reporter being not fulfilled enough in his own life that he had to insert himself into yours. That didn’t make it drastically better, anyway. Perhaps your personal life should be kept away from work.

But it’s not your fault that work happens to include Dr. Spencer Reid.

[starlightshadowsworld]

I find it interesting how Harley Sawyer looks down at people for their compassion.

He didn’t want Stella Grieber knowing about the true nature of the experiments. Because he believed her love for the kids would be a liability.

It was that care for others that he despised Elliot Ludwig for and called him weak.

And now his eyes are on our player character, inquiring of why we’re here. That it couldn’t simply be because of a letter. Did we love someone here?

Was it someone we lost? Did we come back because the fear of not knowing what happened to them bring us back?

Because while he doesn’t care for it, he knows what that kind of compassion can drive people to do.

[khioneee]

PHANTOM PAIN

synopsis. caleb hates that his mechanical arm can’t feel you, but you remind him he’s still human. word count. 1k an. bc who doesn’t love bucky barnes. proof that caleb has a heart.

nothing frustrates caleb more than this—

his fingers twitch at his side, metal joints humming with artificial precision, but when he reaches for you, when his mechanical hand hovers just above your skin, he hesitates.

not because he doesn’t want to touch you.

but because he can’t.

not in the way he wants to.

his human hand is different. it’s warm. real. and when it curls around your wrist, around your waist, around the delicate line of your throat, he can feel you. the way your pulse flutters under his touch, the way your skin warms against his own.

but his other hand. the one they built for him, the one they forged out of steel and circuitry and war, feels nothing.

he knew he had to forget it. the pain and the anger . all of it. it rests heavy on his shoulders, insistent and pounding against the back of his head, demanded to be thought about when the only thing he can really afford to think about is keeping you safe.

do that first, he told himself. keep you safe and then he can grieve.

he had to bury it all. beat it down to a secret place where it hides. lock the door but do not throw away the key. get over it but never forget it.

accumulate the tiny demons that eat away at his insides and hope they do not consume him. let them consume him as long as they do not consume you.

feelings saved for later because you needed to be saved. you needed to be saved now.

now here you are. safe in his arms. and he can’t feel you when you’ve only been a dream for so long.

but his mechanical arm doesn’t ache the way his real one does when you’re too far away. it doesn’t burn with the need to hold you, feel you, know you in ways his human skin still remembers.

and it kills him.

kills him that when you reach for him, when your fingers graze against his mechanical palm, unafraid—he can’t feel the softness of your touch.

he does not want to get too close. a closeness that you can only find skin to skin. the kind of closeness that will mean eveything to you and nothing to him.

it’s phantom because the sensation should be gone. his nerves replaced, his flesh turned to metal. but the ache remains.

his mind remembers what his body has lost. he reaches for you, and though the metal arm cannot register warmth, cannot recognize the softness of your skin, he swears he feels it anyway.

it’s not real.

but the urge is still there.

he wants to hold you, feel you, know you, but all he gets is the cruel illusion of touch. a ghost of a sensation that no longer exists.

so he avoids it.

pulls his arm back. tucks it behind him. hides it in the shadows where the weight of it feels less suffocating.

but you. you never let him run from it.

you reach for him anyway. curl your fingers around cold metal and hold him as if he were whole.

even though he tried to hide the pain in his expression, you could see the pain seeping out of the cracks of his facade.

‘caleb,’ you whisper, eyes searching his, voice soft, grounding. ‘it’s still you.’

his breath catches. his fingers twitch. static running on one hand and blood streaming on the other.

this time his voice broke with the very last word, and his eyes pinched shut like it’s the most painful thing he’s ever heard.

and then, quietly, brokenly, he says, ‘i don’t even know what “me” is anymore.’

darkness is far too prominent, its suffocation always trying to scourge some relief, he’s breaking his own body. the stinging blades are gone, but the battered lines are under swept under dust.

you frown, pressing his cold, lifeless fingers over your beating heart. ‘you can’t keep killing yourself like this, caleb.’

his jaw tightens. his whole body goes rigid, and then—a bitter laugh.

‘if it’s the only way i can feel,’ he murmurs, voice raw, ‘then why should i stop?’

your breath hitches.

because you know what he means.

every mission, every reckless choice, every time he threw himself into death’s hands, every time he came back more broken, less human, more machine.

you know.

and it terrifies you.

but still. you don’t let go.

still. you press your forehead against his, grounding him, anchoring him.

still. you whisper, ‘then let me be the one to make you feel, caleb. just let me.’

for a moment, he doesn’t breathe.

then hesitantly, his metal fingers close around yours.

and for once, he doesn’t pull away.

instead, he exhales shakily, then lifts his human hand to his neck, fingers curling around the chain he always wears. the silver chain with the apple pendant resting against his collarbone.

but now, as he unclasps it, as he holds it out to you, you see something else.

on the back of the pendant, carved in uneven, desperate strokes, are words. his own handwriting, crude and rough, etched in metal like it was the only thing keeping him together.

y/n.

your fingers tremble as you take it from him. it’s old, weathered, as if he’s held onto it for years, as if it’s been his only proof that there’s something more beneath all the steel, all the programming.

like he needed something tangible to believe it himself.

‘i wrote it,’ caleb murmurs, voice raw. ‘a long time ago. before the augmentations took everything.’

your vision blurs. ‘caleb—’

‘i keep it with me because if i don’t…’ his breath shakes. ‘if i don’t, i’ll forget.’

you press the pendant to your lips, holding it there for a moment before slipping it back over his head, letting the cool metal settle against his chest. then, you reach for his mechanical hand.

you thread them between your own, collecting all the pieces of his conscience and disappearing without a trace, all remnants of his soul in hand.

press it against your own heart.

hold it there, firm and unwavering.

‘you don’t need this to prove you’re human,’ you tell him, voice strong despite the way your heart is breaking. ‘you feel, caleb. that’s all the proof you’ll ever need.’

there are noises everywhere, but he only knew how hard his heart beats with the awareness of your presence, how it’s always beating when you’re there. more than it should be.

caleb can listen to your heartbeat, can breathe, and he will be here forever, if that’s what you need. he realised he would be okay losing everything if you asked him to.

his breathing stutters. his fingers flex beneath yours.

and this time, he holds on.

[moonstruckme]

hi mae!! Can I request poly!marauders x fem reader as they join her lingerie shopping? The chaos would be endless

Thanks for requesting babe!

cw: no smut but mdni please because this is definitely mature content, nudity, allusion to smut

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 638 words

It’s hard not to strut a little as you come out of your room. It had been James’ idea to utilize the store’s lenient return policy to simply get everything you liked and bring it all home to try on, and it was a stroke of genius. As soon as you’re in view, Sirius whistles loudly and Remus flushes a shade of pink that makes you certain he’d have fled the store if you’d done this there. 

“I rather like the strappy ones,” Sirius declares. 

“I don’t really see what, erm…” Remus’ brow furrows as he looks at your nipples. “What’s the point of wearing something that only goes around the things it’s meant to cover?” 

“I don’t think any of it should be covered,” says James. He’s reclined comfortably against the back of the couch, eating a banana while his eyes drink you in. 

Sirius nods in near feverish agreement. “It’s for easy access, Moony. This way you can suck on ‘em without taking anything off.” 

“Right, but her…” Remus looks at you as though in apology, and you swallow a laugh. He has no problem being crude when you’re in bed together, but any other time he’s inexplicably shy about it. “Dovey, your crotch is still covered.” 

“Taking it off is also part of the fun,” Sirius amends, speaking as though he’s teaching a class. “What do you think of this one, gorgeous?” 

You look down at the straps criss-crossing down your abdomen. Their satin isn’t uncomfortable, though you are a bit cold. Your nipples stand at attention. “It wasn’t easy to put on,” you admit. “But I wouldn’t mind it, I don’t think. You’d just have to be alright with waiting for me.” 

The smile Sirius gives you brings a tickle of warmth to your cheeks. “Of course we’d wait for you. Especially if it means we get such a lovely reward.”

You laugh. “I guess this is your favorite so far, then?” 

He winks. “I like anything on you, baby, you know that.” 

You’re taking that as a yes. “What about you, Jamie?” 

James takes the last bite of his banana, folding the peel over itself. “Honestly, I like it best when you’re not wearing anything. Not that you don’t look beautiful in all of them, of course,” he hurries to add. He relaxes when you smile. “If I have to pick a favorite, I did really like the blue one you had on earlier. You know, the one with the lace?” 

You hum, nodding. “I liked that one, too.” It’s very different from the one you have on now, sweet and sky blue as opposed to this brazen, salacious thing. “Remus?” 

“I think you look lovely in all of them,” he says equitably. 

You laugh. “Well, I can’t keep all of them.”

“Why not?” Sirius sounds outraged.

“B—because!” you guffaw. “It’s too many! I’d never wear them all. I’m only keeping three, the rest are going back.” 

“I’ll give you a chance to wear them all,” he bargains. 

“I’d have nowhere to put all of them.” 

“I will happily donate one of my drawers to the cause.” 

“I’m keeping three,” you say, aiming for stern despite the smile that won’t leave your lips. “Remus, pick.” 

Remus chuckles at your bossy tone, but his expression turns contemplative. “How many are left?” 

“I think…maybe four?” 

“Let’s see those, and then I’ll decide.” 

Fair enough. You turn to go change into your next ensemble, grinning to yourself when Sirius whistles again and James claps for the view of your backside. 

“Be thinking about your favorite, too,” Sirius calls after you. “Once we’re done, that’s the one we’ll tear off you.” 

“Do you really want to ruin what she’s just bought?” you hear Remus ask faintly. 

“Oh, my darling Moony. You really aren’t getting this, are you?” 

[nitadllyss]

Waking Up Next to Your Boyfriend

-Hyung Line x Reader -

Maknae line here

Genre: Fluff, Headcanon (too sweet)

Warnings: None

---------------------------------------

Bangchan:

• He has trouble sleeping, so when he finally does, he’s completely out. A sleepy koala .

• He’s always the big spoon.

• He unconsciously throws a leg over you and pulls you close with his arm whenever you move.

• When you check the time, you turn off anything that might make noise and go back to sleep, hoping he takes his time waking up so he can rest.

• Considering you woke up with Chan's fluffy hair and his pajama is basically no pajama, it's totally understandable that you didn't want it to end.

• When he finally opens his eyes and sees the time, he flinches a little. It’s late (well, actually, it’s early, but Mr. Workaholic doesn’t see it that way).

• But when he sees you, his heart skips a beat. You look so comfortable next to him.

• He doesn’t resist (not that he even tries) and showers your neck and jaw with kisses, whispering a deep, raspy "Good morning."

• You’re so asleep you barely understand what he’s saying. It’s honestly way too early for your brain to function properly.

• You manage to kiss his cheek just as he’s getting up to leave for work :(( .

• You know he’ll make it up to you with all the cuddles when he comes back.

• In the meantime, you bury your nose in the spot he left on the bed, inhaling that Chan scent.

---

Lee Know:

• At this point, the bed feels way too small.

• Minho is lying down, and you’re lying on top of him, your head resting on his chest. His arms wrap around your back and waist, his chin resting on your head. You’re practically fused together.

• Soongie is curled up on your back, purring contentedly.

• Doongie is sprawled out at Minho’s feet, belly up, deep asleep.

• Meanwhile, Dori is wide awake, tail flicking as he plots his next move. Suddenly, he pounces—straight onto your head—trying to catch Minho’s nose, waking both of you up in shock.

• You laugh in confusion while Minho just lazily drapes an arm over Dori, trying to keep him still, then drifts back to sleep.

• When you finally grab your phone to check the time, you’re surprised by how late it is and try to get up. But before you can leave the bed, Minho grabs your arm and pulls you back in.

"Just a little longer," he mumbles without even opening his eyes.

"Babe, I have to make breakfast," you say, completely mesmerized by how soft and relaxed his profile looks.

"If you stay five more minutes, I’ll help you make it," he says with a lazy smile. He knows he’s won—who would say no to a breakfast made by him?

• Those five minutes turn into a sleepy make-out session. You kiss his nose, jaw, forehead, chin, cheeks, the corners of his lips—before finally pressing small kisses on his lips.

• When his children (the cats) start getting fussy because they also want breakfast, you both have no choice but to get up.

• In the end, he ends up making the whole breakfast while you feed the cats.

---

Changbin:

• He’s a soft, fluffy ball of curls—the cutest and coziest thing you’ll ever see.

• He’s asleep on your chest, his hand resting against your ribs, securing his spot.

• He won’t say it, but he loves sleeping like this because the sound of your heartbeat soothes him. It’s his favorite lullaby.

• Your hand never stops running through his hair. If you stop, he’ll probably let out a grumpy little growl in protest.

• When it’s time to wake up, he clings to you even tighter, mumbling in a pouty tone, "Just a little longer..."

• He doesn’t give you a choice. Every time you try to move, he buries his face deeper into your chest and tightens his grip around your side.

• After a while, your hand drifts down to his face, replacing the hair-stroking with soft caresses on his cheeks. You’re definitely trying to get something.

• "Binnie, baby . We have to get up for breakfast," you whisper sweetly.

• He lets out another grumpy groan, and just as he’s about to complain, his stomach growls in sync.

• Maybe breakfast doesn’t sound like such a bad idea after all...

---

Hyunjin:

• He’s a mess.

• He’s completely sprawled out—one arm stretched above his head, the other tangled in your hair. His wrist is probably numb by now.

• One knee is bent in one direction, the other leg is draped over yours.

• He sleeps with his mouth slightly open and changes position every ten minutes.

• First, he turns and clings to you like a koala. Then he buries his face in your neck. Then he rolls over and gives you his back. But he misses you, so he wraps himself around you again.

• He’s a beautiful disaster.

• When he cracks one eye open to check the time, he realizes it’s late but just shuts his phone off and decides to go back to sleep. (He’s not lazy, he’s just way too comfortable.)

• Before drifting off again, he stares at you, completely captivated—memorizing every detail, every little movement you make in your sleep. He’s definitely going to draw you later.

• But his intense gaze wakes you up.

• His eyes widen, and he immediately whines, "No, no, no. Go back to sleep. We’re still sleeping."

• Like a spoiled kid, he pouts, pushing his bottom lip out. When you insist it’s late, he sulks even more.

"You just want to go to work because you don’t want to stay with me. You’re heartless."

• In the end, the drama queen makes an appearance, as always.

• Somehow, you manage to wiggle out of his hold.

• When you return with his iced coffee and he sees you getting ready for your shower, reality finally hits him.

• Grumpily, he drags himself out of bed, accepting that responsibilities exist.

---------------------------------------

This is my first Headcanon! I hope I did it right.💗

English is not my first language, so let me know if you spot any mistakes 🙏🏻.

[crowofmidnightsworld]

In your dreams | Caleb

Caleb x female reader Type: Smut, almost no plot Synopsis: You and Caleb had fallen asleep in your bed, watching movies. In the middle of the night you wake up by something, or rather someone, rubbing against you. Warnings: MDNI, needy/desperate m, cursing, possessive m, finishing inside, love confession

Word Count: 2.4k

He couldn't take it anymore. It had started off so innocently. You and Caleb decided to spend the night in, watching movies, since it had been raining all day and there had been nothing else to do.

It had been a fun night, especially because you had recently started to trust Caleb more again. You're slowly letting him back in, but sometimes it truly felt like you couldn't live with or without him. He made your mind go crazy, because he wasn't your brother anymore and you were starting to doubt if he ever really was, confused about your feelings for him.

And now you're lying in front of him. His arms wrapped around your middle and you had felt so safe, that you dozed off. Unlike Caleb. He has been awake the entire time and relished the feeling of you lying in his arms. Pressed against him as tight as humanly possible and his mind couldn't stop going into overdrive. He had realised years ago that he had never seen you as his sister. At first it had scared him, because the thoughts he had had about you were something no brother would ever dare to think of his sister.

When those thoughts first entered his mind, he tried to distance himself from you but as soon as he noticed how much that had hurt you, he stopped, even if it had been torture for himself. Over time he started to justify his thoughts. His cravings. And he realised that he hadn't seen you as his sister, even when he was a young boy. You were like sunlight that had to be protected, and that's what he did. Especially when he realised how many people wanted to hurt you. He was content with killing anyone who dared lay their hands on you or even look in your direction. You were his. His obsession. His sunlight.

For the hundredth time tonight the smell of your coconut shampoo enters Caleb's nose and he can't stop himself from burying his face in your hair again. He hates that he feels like this about you, his mind and his feelings contradicting in every possible way, but as long as you don't know about it, he's content with how things currently are. Until you start talking and moving in your sleep.

At first a chuckle bubbled out of Caleb, trying to be as quiet as possible to not wake you up, but your words start to become more clear. An incoherent string of words like "Yes", "Right there" and even quiet moans coming out of your mouth fill the room, and Caleb immediately goes rigid. He can't believe what he's hearing right now, not sure how to deal with this situation, but then you push your hips against his. And you say his name. His name.

Every colour in Caleb's face drains, his mind going a thousand miles an hour, when he notices that familiar feeling of his pants tightening around him. Fuck. His first thought is to pull away from you a little bit, but the second he moves even an inch away from you, he hears you whining in protest and he immediately stops. Caleb's heart is about to burst out of his chest, because that's what he had been imaginging almost every night. Every night he was alone at Skyhaven with his cock fucking into his fist, or even back when he was training to become a pilot.

Only a few seconds later he realises that he has starting grinding his hardness against you, needing to feel that friction. Needing to feel you. Does he feel bad about it? Yes. But you're making all these pretty sounds and you're saying his name, so he tries to justify his actions with that. He nuzzles his face into your shoulder, slowly moving one of his hands under your shirt. The need to feel your skin, to feel you overpowering his rational thoughts.

And that's when you start to wake up. At first you think you're still dreaming and you feel this pang of guilt. You always felt it when you had these dreams about Caleb, but they just wouldn't stop. Too afraid to deal with those feelings, you never really tried to think about what you truly felt for him. And you are so scared of losing Caleb, if he ever found out about this.

The grogginess of sleep slowly lifts from your brain and that's when you feel it. Strangely the feeling of someone grinding against you, touching you, doesn't leave and you're completely confused. Until you hear the shaky breaths of Caleb so close to your ear. Your face instantly feels like it's on fire, considering how good his movements make you feel. And you hate yourself for a second for wanting him to keep touching you. Feeling the need to let him know that you're awake, that you know what he's doing, you finally speak up. "Caleb?".

Caleb hears you but he's already too far gone. His grip on your stomach only tightens and his mind is at war. He should stop, he knows that, but then again, he has been waiting for this for so long. "Please...Please...Just this once, Pipsqueak". The sound of his whiny voice, begging you to let him continue, almost makes you dizzy and now your entire body feels like it's on fire. Caleb is still grinding against you and from that alone you just know he's packing. He just makes you feel good and you honestly don't want him to stop. That's why you gently grab his hand that has been under your shirt for a while now and you guide it up to your chest. That's your answer.

As soon as Caleb realises that you're allowing him to keep going, that you actually want this, he feels like his brain is about to explode. The soft and warm skin under his hand feels so right and he immediately notices the hard nipple, brushing against it. "Fuck, you really want this, huh?". Now his lips are brushing over your shoulder and the slight growl in his voice makes something deep inside you tighten. If he only knew for how long you've been cravingthis.

Caleb's lips feel so soft on your shoulder and you move your head a bit to the side, just to give him more room to play with, which he immediateyl takes advantage of. His lips trail over your shoulder to your neck and he gently starts to suck on that sweet spot, drawing more of those sweet sounds out of you. The sound of rain pattering against your bedroom window disappears, drowned out by your quiet gasps and by Caleb's erratic breathing.

Everything about this situation is overwhelming you, but you need even more. You need to feel him. That's why you grab his hand again, with which he's currently gently flicking his fingers against your hard nipple. "Don't make me stop... I can't...". He sounds even more desperate than before, biting into your shoulder to make you stop, as his hips start to grind against you even harder, but you have other plans. "I won't. I just need you to...". Not being able to finish your sentence, a small part of you still feeling like what you're doing with Caleb is wrong, you wordlessly guide Caleb's hand down to the hem of your shorts.

For a second Caleb stops everything. With a tight grip on the hem of your shorts, he's now just breathing against your neck and you can feel his heart hammering against your back. He won't stop. He knows that, but he also knows that once you two cross that line, it'll never be as it was. Your heart also feels like it's about to jump out of your chest, the mixture of anticipation and need making your own breath speed up. And that's when Caleb slowly pulls down your shorts. His fingers are grabbing your shorts and panties at the same time and suddenly you find yourself lying in your bed with Caleb behind you, completely bare. Never in a million years did you think inviting Caleb to a movie night would end up like this, but you're so glad that you did it.

Moving his hand away from you, you can hear Caleb pulling down his own pants and before you can even feel his cock anywhere near you, that intense feeling in your middle grows stronger. Before you can think about what you two are about to do, Caleb pushes his hard cock in between your thighs and he can only growl, when he feels how wet you are. How your slickness is already covering him and his hand quickly moves to your hip, holding on tight. "Tell me, Pipsqueak. What were you dreaming of?". That question alone makes your face heat up again, but at the same time only whiny sounds leave your lips. He feels so good against you, rubbing his tip against your pussy at such a fast pace, hitting your clit with it every time. How could you tell him that you had been dreaming of that one night a few years ago, when you two kissed. That you wished he would've done more that night?

"How long have you been dreaming of me like that? For how long have you wanted to be mine?". He just won't stop. Caleb had always loved teasing you but now is not the time for this. All you want is for him to take you. To finally still that hunger you've felt for him for years now. You simply start to grind against his hard cock, willing him to accidentally slip inside, but Caleb's hold on your hip just tightens. Holding you in place. Another whine escapes your lips, but Caleb doesn't chuckle. He is just as much of a needy mess as you are right now, but that doesn't stop him from teasing you. His breath feels hot against your ear, making a shiver go down your spine and it's the most infuriating yet delicious feeling you've ever felt.

"Because I've been wanting to do this for years.". Without any other warning, Caleb finally pushes the tip of his cock into you, not entering you completely yet. A loud groan rumbles through Caleb's chest and all you can do is throw your head back a little bit, moaning. He only has his tip in you and yet you already know that he's big. Just like you knew he would be from the beginning. After a few seconds of letting you adjust, Caleb continues pushing into you in the most agonizing, slow way, as his teeth sink into your shoulder again. Rolling back your eyes at that sensation, feeling Caleb inside you to the hilt, you take in a deep breath.

After a few seconds of letting you adjust and kissing your neck again, Caleb starts to move. His thrusts are slow at first and it feels so good. Way better than it has ever been in your dreams. "Imagine how many times I had to fuck myself in the past years because of you.". Caleb knows exactly what he's doing with his words and you know he's saying it now to get a reaction out of you. Despite not wanting to give in so easily, you start to clench around Caleb's cock, earning a haughty chuckle from him. He's filling you out completely, drawing more moans out of you but it's not enough for him. "You really had no idea how much I wanted to fuck you, make you mine, all these years...".

His thrusts become faster after this. In this moment Caleb can't be the sweet boy for you. He need you to know that you're his and only his. That you always have been his, even though you didn't know it. The sounds of your skin slapping against his, satisfy something primal in Caleb and he's just pistoning in and out of you. Your moaning and whining gets louder in response to that, since Caleb is also hitting that sweet spot over and over again. You definitely can't think straight anymore. All you know is that this is right. This is where you're supposed to be.

With how fast and rough Caleb is pounding you, you feel that familiar sensation of your impending orgasm, and from how Caleb is groaning and breathing against your ear, you know that he must be close too. "Caleb, please... Finish inside". For a second Caleb has to force himself to keep moving, even though his brain is short circuiting right now. He has been wanting to fill you up with his seed from the beginning, but he never would've thought that you'd allow it or even beg him to do this. Something snaps inside him and somehow he manages to pound into you even harder. His grip on your hip tightens even more, sure to leave marks on you, but you don't mind.

After a few more thrusts, you finally feel that tight knot deep inside you breaking, and you cum like you've never done before. Starting to see white spots in front of your eyes out of pure pleasure, you throw your head back even more, your eyes rolling back. Your entire body is shaking, as you scream out his name and your pussy starts to clench around Caleb's cock. And that's it for him. "Oh fuck, I love you.". Groaning out those words, Caleb spills his seed inside you and he repeats those three words over and over again. You can feel him twitching inside you, as he fills you up and you feel like you could come again, just because of his confession.

Ever so slowly Caleb's thrusts slow down until he isn't moving anymore, but he stays buried inside you. His sweat covered forehead rests against your shoulder and you're both trying to catch your breaths. You have never felt like this for someone before and you realise that you don't want to anyways. If you could you would stay here with Caleb forever. Never letting him go again. "Did you just say you love me?". Your question is exactly what Caleb expected but he doesn't mind. His breath is still heavy as he gently kisses your shoulder again. "Mhmm, I've loved you for years, Pipsqueak.".

[ch0llies]

FOREVER NOW | CHRISTOPHER STURNIOLO

You and Chris have been tied together by an invisible string ever since you met at 10. As you grew older, Chris became your safe place. He was always there, unknowingly shaping himself into the person you’d eventually fall in love with. By the time you were 18, you had become each other’s first everything- first kiss, first love, first promise that neither of you could ever belong to anyone else the way you belonged to each other. And now, standing in the bathroom with ten pregnancy tests lined up on the counter, that promise felt heavier than ever.

story warnings: fluff, smut, creampie, heavy breeding kink, pregnancy, established relationship, etc… if any of these topics upset you… don’t read!

word count: 6k

a/n: thank you so much for 1k followers!! i love you all so much!!

The rain taps gently against the window. Your shared apartment is dimly lit, warm, filled with the faint trace of Chris’s cologne- the kind of smell that feels like home, like safety.

Chris is beside you on the couch, one arm draped lazily over your legs, his other hand scrolling absentmindedly through his phone. The TV plays some old movie in the background, half-forgotten.

Your fingers trace small circles on his forearm, the soft fabric of his hoodie warmed by his skin. He hums in contentment, shifting just enough to glance at you.

“What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?” he asks, voice soft, familiar.

You smile, but your mind is elsewhere, caught in the years before this moment. Because this love didn’t start here.

It started long before.

FIFTH GRADE.

You met Chris at ten years old, standing awkwardly in the doorway of your parents’ friend’s house.

“This is Chris,” your mom said, nudging you forward.

He had messy brown hair, an oversized hoodie, and a smile that made you think he probably got in trouble at school a lot.

He gave you a shy nod. “Hi.”

You stared for a moment, then mumbled, “Hi.”

The adults left you alone, and somehow, within an hour, you were arguing over who could beat who in Bedwars. By the time your parents came back, you were already thick as thieves, plotting some grand scheme to get extra dessert at dinner.

From that day on you couldn’t remember a memory that he wasn’t in.

EIGHTH GRADE

You learned that heartbreak could come before high school.

There was a boy- your first real crush. He was charming, sweet, made you feel special. Until, suddenly, he didn’t.

You found out from a friend that he had been texting someone else the entire time. That everything he said to you, he said to her too.

Chris found you at the park that night, sitting on the swings, kicking at the dirt, trying not to cry.

He sat next to you without a word. Just there. Present. Until you were ready.

“I really liked him,” you admitted eventually, voice small.

Chris scoffed. “Yeah, well, he’s an idiot.”

You sniffled, glancing at him. “You think?”

Chris nodded firmly. “Obviously. He had you and still wanted someone else? That’s just stupid.”

Something about the way he said it, so certain, made your heart feel just a little lighter.

You didn’t know it then, but that was the first time Chris made you feel like you were worth more than the people who hurt you.

It wouldn’t be the last.

JUNIOR YEAR.

Prom was supposed to be perfect.

Instead, your date cheated. Chris’s date bailed.

And somehow, you ended up at prom together- dressed up, but ditching the actual dance for a late-night drive, fast food in hand, sitting on the hood of his car in the school parking lot.

“You think we’re cursed?” you joked, pulling a fry from the bag.

Chris smirked, leaning back on his palms. “Or maybe we just keep picking the wrong people.”

You glanced at him then- at the way the Boston lights reflected in his eyes, at the way he always showed up when no one else did.

For a moment, you almost said something. Almost realized something.

But instead, you just smiled. “Guess we’re each other’s backup plan now, huh?”

Chris had looked down at his feet and let out an almost sad sounding chuckle, “Guess so.”

But he didn’t feel like a backup plan.

Not even then.

SENIOR YEAR.

It wasn’t sudden.

It wasn’t a grand, dramatic moment where everything clicked into place.

It was gradual. Like the slow rising of the sun, creeping into your life until one day, you realized- he had always been the light.

Chris had always been there. Through every heartbreak, through every bad decision, through every night spent crying over people who didn’t deserve you.

And then one day, you just knew.

It was late, past midnight, the two of you lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, laughing about something dumb, something unimportant. And then the laughter faded, and suddenly, the air felt different.

Chris was looking at you. Really looking at you.

And for the first time, you didn’t look away.

Your heartbeat quickened. You swallowed.

“Chris.”

He shifted, his fingers barely brushing against yours between the sheets. “Yeah?”

You took a breath.

“I- I think it’s always been you.”

Silence.

His breath hitched, but his fingers curled around yours, holding tight.

“I-” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head with a quiet laugh. “God, I was scared to say it first.”

Your chest ached, but for the first time, it wasn’t painful. It was full.

You smiled, biting your lip. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, eyes soft, full of something you had been searching for in everyone else but only ever found in him.

And then he kissed you.

And everything made sense.

Back in the apartment, Chris shifts beside you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“You’re thinking too much again,” he murmurs.

You shake your head, smiling softly. “Just remembering.”

He hums. “Good memories?”

“The best.”

Chris tilts his head, studying you. “Wanna share?”

You turn to face him, meeting the gaze of the boy who had always been there, who had never let you go.

The rain outside is still steady and you let your head rest against his chest again, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Safe. Home.

“You ever think about soulmates?” you ask, voice quiet but certain.

Chris smirks, locking his phone and setting it aside. “Yeah.”

You lift a brow, tilting your head to look up at him. “Oh really? Always been me?”

He chuckles, low and warm, pressing a kiss to your forehead before leaning back against the couch. “Yes, my love. Always been you.”

Your heart swells. Even after all these years, hearing it still makes something in your chest ache in the best way.

Chris shifts, pulling you even closer, wrapping his arms around you completely, tucking your head under his chin. You sigh against his hoodie, breathing him in, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his thigh.

For a while, you just exist like that- wrapped up in each other, listening to the rain, the outside world feeling so far away.

Then Chris hums. “What do you wanna do for dinner?”

You tilt your head, thinking. “What about some PF Chang’s?”

His face lights up. “That sounds incredible.”

You grin, watching as he grabs his phone and pulls up DoorDash, immediately placing the order without hesitation. Because it’s the city, and neither of you want to go out in the rain when food can be delivered straight to your door.

When the food arrives, you both sit on the couch, containers spread out on the coffee table. You grab a pair of chopsticks, but Chris, like always, opts for a fork, shooting you a smug look like he’s superior for it.

“You’re so uncultured,” you tease, grabbing a dumpling.

Chris snorts. “I just don’t like fighting for my food.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no real annoyance behind it- just warmth, just love.

As you eat, the conversation shifts to your future, like it always does.

“What about baby names?” Chris muses, stealing a bite of your lo mein like it’s his. “What do you like?”

You smirk. “You planning on knocking me up tonight or something?”

Chris smirks. “Definitely planning on fuckin’ you but, getting you pregnant? We’ll see.”

You shrug nonchalantly, picking up a garlic noodle with your chopstick. “I still want you to cum inside me tonight regardless.”

He chokes on his food, coughing as he glares at you. “Jesus, give me a warning before you say stuff like that. I’m gonna get hard.”

You laugh, nudging his shoulder. “I’m serious, though. You ever think about it? Baby names, becoming parents, getting me pregnant…?

Chris swallows, setting his container down before shifting to look at you fully. His expression softens, thoughtful. “Yeah,” he admits. “I have.”

You raise a brow. “And?”

He smirks. “You first.”

You sigh dramatically, leaning back into the couch, pretending to think. “I like the name Owen for a boy,” you say eventually. “And maybe Elliot for a girl. Her nickname would be Ellie”

Chris nods. “Owen? That’s my middle name. But Ellie is really cute. I like that.”

“Yeah, goof. It would be named after you, handsome. But what about you?”

He leans forward, resting his chin in his hand as he blushes softly. “I’ve always liked the name Weston for a boy,” he says, glancing at you. “And for a girl… maybe Aria.”

You smile. “Aria is cute.”

Chris nudges you. “So, our kid’s name is either Owen, Ellie, Weston, or Aria. Got it.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart swells anyway. “I can’t imagine having a kid anytime soon.”

Chris grins, pulling you onto his lap effortlessly, wrapping his arms around your waist. “No rush,” he murmurs, nuzzling into your shoulder. “We’ve got time.”

You melt into him, fingers threading through his hair.

“Okay, more future talk,” he says after a moment. “Houses. Where do we end up?”

You hum. “Do you wanna stay in Boston?”

Chris tilts his head. “I like Boston, but I wouldn’t mind somewhere quieter. Maybe something coastal? A place where we can sit on the porch and watch the sunrise. What about my family's cape house?”

You smile. “That sounds perfect.”

Chris grins, tapping his fingers lightly against your back. “Can you imagine being as a full time suburban dad?”

You snicker. “Hard to imagine you giving up city life and inheriting Matt’s minivan to truck our kids around.”

Chris groans. “Please never let me get that goddamn minivan.”

You laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Deal.”

The remnants of dinner are still scattered across the coffee table- half-empty takeout containers, crumpled napkins, chopsticks resting haphazardly in cartons, four empty pepsi cans. Chris groans, stretching his arms before nudging you with his knee.

“You ready to clean this up?” he asks, though he doesn’t look like he wants to move any more than you do.

You sigh dramatically, leaning back against the couch. “Or… we could just leave it here and deal with it in the morning.”

Chris snorts. “No way. You hate waking up to a mess.”

You grumble, knowing he’s right. “Fine. But you’re taking out the trash.”

“Deal.”

The two of you move in sync, cleaning up without much thought- him stacking the containers, you wiping down the table. Domesticity has always been easy with Chris, effortless in a way that feels like breathing. It’s not something you ever have to think about; it just is.

Once the apartment is back in order, you stretch, letting out a soft yawn.

Chris grins, wrapping his arms around you from behind, pressing his chin against your shoulder. “Bed?”

“Yes.”

You slip into the bathroom while Chris grabs water for both of you. The space is warm, the soft yellow glow of the vanity lights reflecting off the marble. You change into one of your favorite comfy outfits- an oversized, faded navy sweatshirt that hangs off one shoulder, exposing the thin strap of your lace bralette underneath, paired with soft gray Calvin Klein boyshorts that hug your hips just right.

The fabric of the sweatshirt nearly swallows you, the hem brushing the tops of your thighs, the sleeves hanging just past your wrists. It smells like detergent, a little like Chris, a little like the home you’ve built together.

By the time you start brushing your teeth, Chris enters, setting the water bottles on the counter before glancing at you in the mirror.

His eyes darken immediately, lips parting slightly as he takes you in- the way the sweatshirt slips off your shoulder, the way your shorts sit snug on your curves.

“You trying to kill me, baby?” he mutters, voice thick.

You smirk around your toothbrush. “I just put on something comfortable.”

Chris shakes his head, stepping closer behind you, his hands skimming the edge of the sweatshirt before resting low on your hips. “Yeah? This is comfortable?”

You nod, watching his gaze flick between your reflection and the way his hands trace slow, deliberate circles against your skin.

You fumble your phone, and it slips from the counter, landing with a soft thud on the floor.

You sigh through your toothbrush, bending over to grab it.

And that’s when you hear it.

A sharp inhale. The softest curse under Chris’s breath.

“Fuck, baby.”

Before you can straighten, his hands slide over your hips, firm but reverent. One palm presses against the small of your back, the other smoothing over your ass, fingers flexing as if he can’t help himself.

You swallow hard, heat creeping up your spine as you grip the sink for balance.

Chris leans in, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “You still up for that promise, baby?” His voice is low, gravelly, dripping with want.

Your breath hitches. “What promise?” you ask, playing coy.

Chris chuckles, dark and knowing, his fingers pressing a little more insistently into your skin. “The one where you let me cum inside you.”

Your heart pounds, the weight of his words sending a shiver down your spine. You meet his gaze in the mirror, and the heat in his eyes makes your knees weak.

Chris smirks, running his hands up your sides before spinning you to face him fully. His fingers slide under the hem of your sweatshirt, gripping your waist as he pulls you closer.

“You still want that?” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over yours.

Your answer is immediate.

“Yes.”

Chris’s smirk deepens, satisfaction flickering in his darkened gaze. His grip tightens just enough to make you shiver, his fingertips pressing into your skin like he wants to leave his mark there.

“Yeah?” His voice is low, teasing, as he drags his hands over your hips, his thumbs tracing lazy circles. “You want me to fill you up, make sure you feel me long after, huh?”

You swallow, pulse hammering against your ribs. There’s no hesitation when you nod, your breath hitching as his lips graze yours- featherlight, just enough to tease.

Chris hums, his hands sliding lower, squeezing your ass before lifting you onto the counter with ease. His body slots between your legs, firm and unyielding. He keeps you there, locked in place, his forehead resting against yours.

“Say it again,” he demands, his voice rough with want.

Your fingers tangle in his hoodie, pulling him impossibly closer, your legs tightening around his waist.

“I want it, Chris,” you whisper, lips barely brushing his. “I want you to cum inside me.”

A sharp inhale from him, and then his mouth crashes onto yours, all heat and hunger. His fingers slide under your sweatshirt again, this time with purpose, exploring, claiming.

“Shit, baby,” he groans against your lips, his hands pushing higher, tugging at your clothes.

He doesn’t waste another second. His hands slip beneath your thighs, gripping firmly as he lifts you off the counter with effortless strength. Your arms loop around his neck instinctively, your breath coming in short, heated bursts as he carries you through the dimly lit apartment.

The air between you is thick, charged, every step he takes toward the bedroom making your anticipation coil tighter. His lips find your jaw, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat as he nudges the bedroom door open with his foot.

By the time he lays you down on the bed, your body is already burning for him. Chris hovers over you, his hands planted on either side of your head, his darkened blue eyes devouring every inch of you.

“Been wanting to do this all night,” he murmurs, fingers dipping under the hem of your sweatshirt again, this time pushing it up with agonizing slowness. “Take my time with you.”

Your stomach tightens as he peels the fabric over your head, tossing it aside carelessly. His gaze drinks you in, lingering on your bare skin, the way your chest rises and falls beneath him.

“Ma,” he breathes, his hands already roaming again, thumbs brushing over your sensitive skin. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You reach for his hoodie, fingers curling around the hem as you tug. “Then take this off,” you whisper, your voice breathless, needy.

Chris smirks but obliges, pulling it over his head and letting it drop to the floor. His toned chest and arms are bare now, the soft glow from the bedside lamp casting shadows over the ridges of his muscles.

Your hands roam over his skin, tracing along his collarbones and his happy trail. He watches you with dark, hooded eyes, his breathing heavy as he slides his hands down your body, toying with the waistband of your shorts.

“These too,” he murmurs, voice thick with desire, as he hooks his fingers into them, dragging them down your legs inch by inch. The sensation sends a shiver through you, every inch of your exposed skin burning under his touch.

Once your shorts are gone, Chris kneels at the edge of the bed, his hands smoothing over your thighs as he leans down, pressing slow, lingering kisses to your soft and wet cunt. His lips trail higher towards your clit, teasing, making your breath hitch.

Then, just when you think you might combust, he pulls back, standing to his full height.

Your eyes lock onto his as he unbuttons his jeans, dragging the zipper down slowly. He doesn’t look away- not as he pushes them past his hips, not as they fall to the floor, leaving him in just his boxers, the evidence of his desire straining against the fabric.

“Your turn,” you whisper, eyes flicking to the last piece of clothing between you.

Chris smirks, hooking his thumbs into the waistband and pushing them down.

Chris lets his boxers drop to the floor, kicking them aside before crawling back over you, his body warm and solid against yours. His hands find your thighs, spreading them wider as he settles between them, his weight pressing into you in a way that makes your breath hitch.

“Yeahhhh,” he murmurs, dragging his lips along your jaw, down the column of your throat. “You’re so fucking perfect. Every single inch of you.” His hands roam your body like he’s memorizing you all over again, tracing over your curves, his thumbs brushing against your hip bones.

You shudder under his touch, gripping onto his shoulders, needing something to anchor you. Chris smirks against your skin, his lips pressing sloppy kisses over your collarbone, then lower, taking his time.

“I’ll never get tired of this,” he whispers, his breath hot against your peaked nipples. “Never get tired of touching you, tasting you… fucking filling you up.”

Your breath stutters, heat pooling low in your stomach at his words. His hands slide down, gripping your hips firmly, fingers pressing possessively into your skin.

“You love that, don’t you?” he murmurs, tilting his head to watch your reaction. “Love knowing I wanna fill you up every time. Keep you like this-” he grinds his hips against you, slow and deliberate, making you gasp. “So full of me.”

Your nails dig into his shoulders, and Chris groans, rolling his hips again, teasing you, making your body arch into his.

“Say it,” he demands, his voice rough, edged with need. “Tell me you want it, baby.”

Your head tilts back against the pillows, a whimper slipping from your lips. “I want it, Chris,” you breathe, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Want you to fill me up.”

Chris growls low in his throat, his hands gripping your thighs, his lips ghosting over yours. “Fuck, you drive me crazy,” he murmurs. “You know that? The way you say it… the way you look at me like that. I swear, I could spend every fucking day buried inside you and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, your body tightening in anticipation. His fingers trail down, teasing, testing your patience.

“You ready for me, baby?” he asks, voice thick, teasing as his eyes flick up to meet yours. “You want it that bad?”

“Yes,” you gasp, your hands fisting in the sheets. “I need you, Chris.”

Chris groans, pressing one last lingering kiss to your lips, slow and deep, before pulling back just enough to line himself up, swiping his cock a few times through your built up arousal. His gaze locks onto yours, intense, unwavering.

“Then take it,” he murmurs. “Take all of me.”

Chris doesn’t hold back. He pushes in slowly at first, savoring the way your body reacts to him, how you gasp and clutch at his shoulders, legs tightening around his waist. His jaw clenches as he watches you, eyes dark, pupils blown wide with need.

“Fuck,” he groans, dropping his forehead against yours. “You feel so good, baby. Always so fucking perfect for me.”

Your breath stutters, your nails dragging down his back as he sinks deeper, filling you inch by inch. The stretch is delicious, a slow burn that makes your head spin, and Chris eats up every little sound you make, his grip on your waist tightening.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. He leans back just enough to watch your expression, his hands roaming over your tits and cupping them, mapping every inch of you. “You take me so fucking well. Every time.”

Your head tilts back, a moan slipping from your lips as he rolls his hips, setting a slow, deep rhythm. Chris groans at the feeling, his fingers pressing into your skin like he never wants to let go.

“That’s it, baby,” he breathes, kissing along your jaw, down to your throat. “Let me in- let me fill you up just the way you need.”

His pace quickens just a little, his control hanging by a thread as he watches you come undone beneath him. Every thrust pushes him deeper, making you gasp, your body arching into his.

“God, you’re perfect,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer. “So fucking tight, so warm- like you were made for me.”

Your fingers tangle in his hair, your lips parting in a desperate gasp as he hits the perfect spot inside you. Chris feels it, sees the way your body responds, and it makes something primal snap inside him.

“That’s the spot, huh?” he murmurs, a smirk playing at his lips even as his own breath is ragged. “Gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna let me fill you up like you need?”

“Chris,” you whimper, your body tightening around him, heat coiling low in your stomach.

“Say it,” he growls, his thrusts getting rougher, more desperate. “Tell me you want it. Tell me you need me to cum inside you.”

Your back arches, pleasure crashing over you in waves as your orgasm hits and you squeeze him impossibly tight. “I need it- I need you to fill me up, Chris. So bad.”

He groans, his grip on you tightening as he thrusts harder, deeper, chasing his release. “F- fuck, baby, I’m gonna- ” His breath shudders, his movements getting sloppier as he buries himself as deep as he can, his body tensing.

A guttural moan tears from his lips as he spills inside you, holding you tight, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. His breathing is heavy, his body trembling slightly from the intensity of it, and he presses lazy kisses against your skin as he comes down.

“Shit,” he breathes, his arms wrapping around you, keeping you flush against him. “I swear, I’ll never get tired of this. Never get tired of you.”

You let out a soft, breathless laugh, running your fingers through his hair, still coming down from your own high.

Chris doesn’t move for a moment, still catching his breath, his body heavy and warm against yours. But then, as if something clicks in his mind, he shifts, gripping your hips with both hands.

Without warning, he pushes your hips up, angling them just enough to keep every drop of his cum inside you. You whimper at the sudden movement, your body still sensitive, your legs trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure.

“Chris- fuck.” you murmur, a dazed little laugh slipping from your lips, “what are you doing?”

His fingers press into your skin, his grip firm, possessive. His darkened blue eyes flick down to where you’re still connected, then back up to your face, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Making sure it stays,” he murmurs, voice rough, teasing but laced with something deeper, something almost primal.

Your breath catches. “I thought you didn’t want me to get pregnant.”

Chris doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he leans down, pressing kisses along your jaw, down the curve of your neck. His breath is warm against your skin, his lips lingering, his hands still keeping your hips in place.

“I never said that,” he finally murmurs, his voice husky, “maybe I like the idea more than I let on.”

Your heart stutters. Heat blooms in your chest, pooling low in your stomach again despite how spent you already are. Chris tilts his head, watching your reaction closely, his smirk deepening as he sees the way his words affect you.

“Don’t look at me like that, baby,” he teases, pressing another kiss to your collarbone. “You’re the one who begged me to cum inside you.”

Your breath hitches. “Yeah, but I didn’t think you actually wanted-”

Chris cuts you off with a slow roll of his hips, just enough to remind you he’s still inside you, still keeping everything right where he wants it. You gasp, your fingers gripping his arms.

“Don’t act so surprised,” he murmurs. “You know how fucking good it feels. How right it feels.” His lips graze your ear. “Tell me you don’t love it.”

You swallow hard, your pulse hammering. “I do,” you whisper.

Chris smirks against your skin, his hands tightening on your hips. “That’s my girl,” he breathes. “And who knows… maybe one day, I won’t just be filling you up for fun. Maybe one of these days I’ll fuck a baby into you.”

Your stomach flips, your whole body flushing at his words. Chris just chuckles, his expression dark and full of satisfaction as he kisses you again- slow, deep, claiming.

“But for now,” he murmurs, letting his weight settle over you again, his hands still holding you in place, “we’ll just make sure it sticks.”

Chris finally releases his hold on your hips, letting you relax into the mattress, though he doesn’t pull away just yet. He presses a few lingering kisses against your shoulder, his hands smoothing over your sides as he breathes you in.

“You good?” he murmurs, his voice warm and tender now, the teasing edge from before softened.

You nod, still catching your breath, your body pleasantly sore in the best way. “Yeah… just feel like I can’t move.”

Chris chuckles, rolling off of you but staying close. “Guess I did my job right, then.” He smirks, but before you can throw a pillow at him, he leans in, brushing his lips over your forehead. “C’mon, let’s get cleaned up.”

He helps you up, keeping an arm wrapped around your waist as you both make your way to the bathroom. He’s gentle as he runs a warm washcloth over your skin, pressing soft kisses along your jaw, your shoulders, wherever he can reach. It’s such a contrast from the heat of earlier, but it makes your heart swell all the same.

Once you’re both cleaned up, you slip on one of Chris’s hoodies- something oversized and soft- and climb into bed. Chris follows, pulling you close, his arms wrapped securely around you as he buries his face in your hair.

“Love you,” he mumbles sleepily, his lips brushing against your temple.

You smile, pressing a kiss to his chest. “Love you too, Chris.”

TWO MONTHS LATER

You groan, dropping your forehead against the kitchen counter as another wave of nausea rolls through you. “Ugh, I feel awful.”

Chris looks up from where he’s leaning against the fridge, brows furrowing with concern. “Still feeling sick, baby?”

You nod, rubbing your stomach with a frown. “Yeah… I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I keep feeling nauseous at the most random times. And I swear, I smelled coffee earlier, and it made me want to throw up.”

Chris winces, stepping closer and rubbing a hand up and down your back soothingly. “I’m so sorry, baby. Can I do anything?”

You shake your head, sighing. “I don’t even know what would help. It’s just been happening out of nowhere.”

Chris presses a kiss to the side of your head, his touch warm and comforting. “Maybe you just ate something bad? Or you’re stressed?”

“Maybe,” you mumble, but you’re not entirely convinced. “Are you sure the chicken last night was fully cooked?”

“I check it twice. It was.” Chris gives you a sympathetic look. “Tell you what- I’ll make you some tea, and then we can just chill on the couch, yeah? I’ll rub your back, we can watch whatever dumb reality show you wanna put on.”

That makes you smile a little, and you nod. “Okay. That sounds nice. Thank you baby.”

Chris grins, pressing another kiss to your forehead before heading to the kettle. “Anything for my girl.”

ONE WEEK LATER

You groan as you lean over the bathroom sink, splashing cold water on your face in a desperate attempt to shake off the lingering nausea. It’s been happening every morning now- like clockwork. And as much as you’d been hoping it was just a stomach bug or something that would pass, it wasn’t going anywhere.

“Baby?” Chris’s voice is groggy, laced with sleep as he steps into the bathroom, rubbing his eyes. “You okay?”

You let out a slow breath, gripping the edge of the counter. “Same as yesterday. And the day before that.”

Chris frowns, stepping closer, his hands settling on your waist as he looks you over. His touch is warm and grounding, but when his thumbs brush against your sides, you wince subconsciously.

Chris notices immediately, his brows drawing together. “Hey… why’d you flinch?”

You shake your head, still trying to wake up fully. “I didn’t-” But then his hands slide up a little higher, skimming under your hoodie, and the moment his thumbs brush against the curve of your breasts, you jolt.

Chris’s eyes widen. “Whoa. Okay. That was a reaction.”

You frown, stepping back slightly, your arms crossing over your chest. “They’ve just been… weirdly sensitive lately.”

Chris tilts his head, his gaze flicking down before his lips curl into the smallest smirk. “Not to mention…” His hands return to your sides, his touch slow, almost hesitant. “Baby, I swear to God, they look bigger. Like huge. It makes me so horny.”

You scoff. “Chris!”

“I’m serious!” He gives you a pointed look, stepping back just enough to take you in. “They’re… I don’t know, plumper? And you’ve been nauseous for over a week. You’re throwing up every morning. You don’t think…?”

You blink at him, brows furrowing. “Think what?”

Chris’s expression shifts- something between excitement and pure realization flickering across his face. He licks his lips, searching your eyes, almost as if he’s waiting for you to catch up.

“Baby,” he says slowly, carefully, “you don’t think you could be… pregnant?”

The words hang between you, heavy and thick in the quiet morning air. Your stomach twists- but not from nausea this time.

Your lips part slightly, a small laugh slipping out- almost disbelieving. “Chris, there’s no way…” But then, as you say it, the last few weeks flash through your mind. The exhaustion. The cravings. The nausea. The sensitivity. The way you haven’t used a condom with him in months and he hasn’t been pulling out.

Chris watches you closely, his smirk fading into something softer, more serious. His hands settle on your hips again, thumbs rubbing slow circles. “Baby,” he murmurs, voice quieter now, “when’s the last time you had your period?”

Your stomach drops. Your mind races as you try to remember, but the more you think about it, the more your chest tightens. You should’ve had it by now. You always keep track. But with everything going on, you hadn’t even noticed.

Chris sees the realization hit you. His hands tighten just slightly, his eyes locked onto yours. “Shit,” you whisper.

Chris lets out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah. Shit.”

You look up at him, heart pounding, eyes wide. “Chris… what if I am?”

He’s silent for a moment. Just looking at you. And then, slowly, his lips curl into a grin.

“Guess we should find out.”

Chris doesn’t waste a second. The moment the realization fully settles between you, he’s already moving. He grabs his phone and wallet off the nightstand, shoving his feet into the closest pair of sneakers.

“I’ll be right back,” he says, pressing a quick, firm kiss to your forehead before darting toward the front door.

You blink, still in shock. “Wait- Chris, where are you-”

But he’s already gone.

You stand there for a moment, your heartbeat thudding in your ears. This has to be a joke, right? There’s no way this is actually happening. But as you place a hand over your stomach, the reality starts creeping in.

A few minutes later, you hear the front door swing open again, followed by the unmistakable crinkle of plastic bags.

“Alright, baby, let’s do this!” Chris’s voice is practically beaming as he jogs back into the bedroom, his arms full of pregnancy tests. You stare in disbelief as he drops multiple boxes onto the bed, some falling onto the floor in the process.

“Chris,” you say slowly, eyes widening. “What the fuck is this?”

“Options,” he says simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I got every brand they had. Digital ones, line ones, ones that apparently have smiley faces-” He pauses, flipping a box over before tossing it onto the pile. “I didn’t know there were this many kinds, honestly, but we’re covering all bases.”

You shake your head, staring at the sheer amount of tests in front of you. “Ten tests, Chris?”

“At least ten,” he corrects, grinning.

You narrow your eyes at him, crossing your arms. “Why are you so happy about this?”

Chris hesitates for half a second before letting out a short laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Honestly? I don’t know. I just… am.”

You search his face, expecting to see panic or nerves, but all you find is pure excitement- like he wants this. Like the idea of you possibly carrying his baby is something he’s already embracing.

Your stomach twists, but not in a bad way. It’s terrifying and overwhelming, but with the way he’s looking at you, it also feels… oddly okay.

Chris claps his hands together, bringing you back to reality. “Alright, let’s go. Go pee on some sticks.”

You snort despite yourself. “Some?”

“All of them,” he corrects, already scooping up the tests into his arms. “We need solid confirmation, baby. I need a goddamn unanimous decision from these things.”

Shaking your head, you exhale sharply, running a hand through your hair before turning toward the bathroom. “This is insane.”

Chris follows right behind you, grinning. “This is science.”

You roll your eyes, but as you close the bathroom door behind you, Chris leans against the sink, watching you with nothing but warmth in his gaze.

“Whatever happens,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, “we’ll figure it out together, okay?”

Your chest tightens, and you nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Okay.”

“Wait! Let me see what they say first. Don’t pee on anything!” Chris rips open one of the boxes with the same energy he probably had during his high school finals. He pulls out the instructions, unfolds them with an exaggerated flourish, and clears his throat.

“Alright,” he announces, squinting at the paper. “Step one: Remove the test from the wrapper.”

You snatch a test from one of the open boxes and rip it open with ease. “Done.”

Chris nods approvingly, scanning the next step. “Step two: Hold the absorbent tip in your urine stream for five seconds. Or dip it in a cup of urine for twenty seconds.”

You give him a flat look. “Absorbent tip?”

“Hey, I’m just reading what it says,” Chris says, holding up his hands in defense. He glances down again, then smirks. “Oh- this part’s important: Make sure you don’t pee on the result window. We need a clear reading, baby.”

You roll your eyes. “Thanks for the groundbreaking information, Chris.”

“Just looking out for accuracy.”

You shake your head, but your heart is thudding in your chest. This is actually happening.

Chris notices your hesitation and softens slightly, stepping closer. “You okay?”

You let out a slow breath. “Yeah. Just… nervous.”

Chris nods, setting the instructions down on the counter before placing his hands on your hips. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “No matter what happens, we’re in this together. Got it?”

You nod, exhaling against his chest. “Got it.”

He smiles, giving you a small squeeze before stepping back. “Alright, go do your thing. I’ll be right here, being incredibly supportive and not at all annoying.”

You snort. “Mhm.”

Chris gasps dramatically. “Wow. So much doubt for the man who just spent a ridiculous amount of money on pregnancy tests for you.”

Shaking your head, you grab the cup from the counter- because there’s no way you’re risking peeing on your own hand in the middle of a life-altering moment- and step toward the toilet. “Okay, turnaround now.”

Chris throws his hands up. “I literally fucked this baby into you?!”

“We don’t know if there’s a baby yet!” You roll your eyes but do what needs to be done, filling the cup and carefully dipping the first test. Then another. And another. You cycle through each one, following the ridiculous variety of instructions. Five seconds for one. Twenty seconds for another. One where you had to cap it immediately and lay it on a flat surface.

Chris stands by the counter, eyes wide as he watches you line up ten tests in a perfect row.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “That’s a lot of science happening at once.”

You let out a breath, setting the last test down. “Now what?”

Chris grabs one of the boxes, scanning the fine print. “Now we wait.”

You swallow hard, wiping your hands on a towel before gripping the edge of the sink. “How long?”

Chris squints at the instructions. “Three minutes.”

Three minutes.

Three minutes to find out if your whole world is about to change.

Chris must sense your nerves because he steps up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He rests his chin on your shoulder, his lips brushing your jaw. “I can set a timer. Or we can just stare at them aggressively until something happens.”

You let out a breathy laugh, leaning back against him. “Okay… let’s do it.”

Chris’s phone is already in his hand before you even say anything. He holds it up, pressing record with a grin.

“For our future kid,” he says, his voice full of barely contained excitement.

You raise an eyebrow at him. “You don’t even know if it’s positive yet.”

Chris smirks, shaking his head. “I have a feeling, baby.”

Your stomach twists as you reach for the first test. Your fingers tremble slightly, and you can feel Chris’s anticipation radiating off of him. With a deep breath, you flip it over.

Two lines.

Positive.

Your heart stops.

Chris lets out a sharp inhale, but before either of you can fully process it, you reach for the second test.

Positive.

The third.

Positive.

Every. Single. One.

Chris stares at them for half a second before a wide grin spreads across his face. “Holy shit.” His phone lowers slightly as he turns to look at you, his eyes shining. “Baby- holy shit!”

Before you can react, he grabs you, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around. You gasp, gripping his shoulders as a laugh bubbles out of you, your nerves momentarily forgotten.

“Chris!” You giggle, clinging to him as he twirls you.

“I knew it,” he exclaims, setting you down just enough to crash his lips against yours. The kiss is heated, desperate, but full of so much love that your chest tightens.

Then, before you even realize it, tears start slipping down your cheeks. You pull back slightly, your hand flying to your stomach as a sob escapes you.

“Oh my God,” you whisper, voice shaking. “Our baby is in my stomach.”

Chris freezes, his hands still gripping your waist. He stares at you like he’s just now fully comprehending it, like the reality of it all is truly sinking in. His lips part slightly, his breath hitching.

“Our baby,” he murmurs, and the way he says it- so full of awe, of love- makes your heart ache.

But then, almost instantly, his entire demeanor shifts. His grip tightens, his eyes darting around the room like his brain is moving a mile a minute.

“Shit. I need to tell my mom. And my dad. And my brothers.” He steps back, running a hand through his hair, pacing slightly. “What about your family? Should we call them first? And the apartment- fuck, we need to start looking at places with an extra room. Or at least be ready for when she grows up- ”

You blink. “She?”

Chris stops, looking at you dead serious. “I don’t know, baby, I just know. I have this gut feeling that my new babygirl is growing inside you right now.”

Your heart clenches at the sheer certainty in his voice.

But then he’s spiraling again. “Oh God, we don’t have anything for a baby. I need to research cribs- what’s the safest crib? And strollers- shit, what’s a good stroller brand? I don’t know anything about strollers! And- fuck, baby, we’re twenty-one. I haven’t even married you yet!”

He turns to you, panic written all over his face now, and for the first time ever, you’re the calm one.

You step forward, reaching for his hands, squeezing them tightly. “Chris, baby, breathe.”

His chest rises and falls rapidly, but he listens, taking a deep inhale as his eyes lock onto yours.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, pressing his hands against your stomach. “The way you reacted tells me all I need to know. You’re gonna be an amazing father.”

Chris swallows hard, his panic giving way to something softer, more vulnerable. His fingers flex against your stomach, like he’s already trying to connect with the tiny life growing inside you.

“You think so?” he asks, voice quieter now.

You smile, cupping his face. “I know so.”

Chris exhales shakily, closing his eyes for a moment before leaning forward, resting his forehead against yours. “I love you,” he murmurs.

“I love you too.”

And in that moment, standing there in the tiny bathroom with ten positive pregnancy tests lined up on the counter, everything feels exactly as it should be.

MASTERLIST

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