#I know it probably wouldn’t be the first but whatever

[corroded-hellfire]

This is a little angsty but do the AYW kids ever go through scrutiny about reader and Eddie's marriage from school and their friend's families?

With Ryan and Luke did they ever hear negative comments from their classmates other parent about reader and Eddie? Or a classmate saying "[reader] isn't your real mom!"

Can we agree that these boys need to be protected at all costs?

Words: 2.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The smell of crayons and Play-Doh hovers in the first grade classroom. The teacher, Ms. Fabray, counts her blessings that there aren’t any more foul odors filling the space. The kids are just back inside from recess, still rowdy with those last bursts of energy they get whenever they hear, “Five more minutes!”

As usual, Brandon Simpson is the last student to stroll in the back classroom door. He’s the most consistent troublemaker in the class and one of the reasons Ms. Fabray wishes this school year would hurry up and be over.

“Go sit there, Brandon,” Ms. Fabray instructs the six-year-old, gesturing to the only table that has an available chair. 

He plops down next to Luke Munson, who only glances at him out of the corner of his eye before he goes back to drawing.

Luke’s tongue pokes out between his lips as he concentrates on getting the shape of the dog’s nose just right. The moment he sets the black crayon down, his arm gets shoved. Luke’s brow furrows as he looks over at the culprit. Brandon beats Luke to the punch to speak, though.

“That girl who picks you up from school isn’t your sister?”

Well, that was one of the last things Luke expected to come out of the other boy’s mouth. Once his surprise vanishes, his head fills with a vision of you and how you smile every single time you see him and Ryan walking out of the school building.

“No, she’s my daddy’s girlfriend,” Luke says with a shake of his head. 

“But she’s so young!” Truthfully, Brandon wouldn’t have been able to gauge your age even if he was given one of the numbers, but he heard his mom complaining about the Munson’s dad being with a girl young enough to be his daughter.

While completely untrue since Eddie is only twelve years older than you, Brandon didn’t know nor care, and was just happy he had something he could use to tease Luke.

“So what?” Luke asks, reaching for the brown crayon.

“My mom says your dad should know how ridiculous he looks,” Brandon says. “That he’s probably having a midwife crisis and is trying to feel young again.”

The little girl sitting across from Brandon tilts her head up slightly to look at him beneath her sandy blunt bangs.

“It’s midlife,” she says. 

“Whatever.” Brandon waves her off. “He only wants her cause she’s pretty and young.”

The bully is clearly just parroting what he heard his mother saying, but it gets the intended effect. Luke drops the crayon and his small hands curl into fists.

“She loves my Daddy.”

“But not you,” Brandon says with a shrug, turning to grab a few crayons of his own. “I bet she just puts up with you cause she likes your dad.”

“That’s not true!” Luke shouts.

“Quieter voices, please,” Ms. Fabray says from across the room.

“She’s not your mom,” Brandon goads while starting his own drawing. 

Luke hates that he can’t deny that. You’ve treated him better than his own mother has from the day you met him. It didn’t take long before Luke wished that you were his mom instead of Brittany. When he realized that wasn’t possible, he switched to wanting you to be with his dad. Now that his dream had come true, Luke never thought someone would be so mean about it. 

“But she loves me,” Luke says.

The words are true, he knows it with every fiber of his being. The four words don’t even seem enough to the little boy to encapsulate how much you care for him and do for him. To him, you’re better than a mom, since his frame of reference is so terrible.

“I love my hamster, but I’m not his dad!” Brandon shoots back. 

Luke’s hands bang down on the table and his brow furrows even further.

“I’m not a hamster! And she loves me!”

“What’s going on over there?” Ms. Fabray asks, craning her neck in the direction of the boys.

“She’s a fake mommy,” Brandon continues, ignoring the teacher. “Not a real mommy.”

The fury has come to its boiling point in Luke’s small body. He sees red as he lunges for Brandon, knocking the other boy out of his seat. Both of them land on the rough carpet, a mess of tangled limbs and shouts.

“Boys!” Ms. Fabray yells, hurrying over to them. “Luke! Brandon! Stop it!”

Luke wraps an arm around Brandon’s neck, his Hot Wheels sneakers digging into the ground. Brandon’s legs kick, his heels pounding against Luke’s shins. It causes Luke to let go, and Brandon takes the opportunity to roll over and start hitting Luke in the ribs. 

Ms. Fabray pulls Brandon off by gripping him beneath his armpits and sets him down behind her. Luke hops up and the teacher immediately holds her hands out to keep the boys separate. 

“That is enough!”

“He started it!” Brandon shouts. 

“Nuh uh!” Luke shoots back. “He started making fun of my mo—my dad’s girlfriend!”

“Brandon, you go sit in the corner seat. Luke, you go sit at my desk. Now.”

The gray-skinned demon creature in the novel you’re reading creeps behind the main character and is on the verge of pouncing on her when the door to Eddie’s apartment swings open. You jump and let out a small yelp. 

Eddie ushers a red-faced Luke inside and closes the door behind them. 

“Hey, what’re you guys doing here?” you ask, glancing down at your watch. It’s still hours from when you usually leave to go pick the kids up from school. 

Neither of them answers, but Luke takes off running down the hall to his room. Eddie tosses his keys onto the counter and lets out a heavy sigh. He stumbles over and plops down on the couch next to you. 

“Luke got in a fight.”

“Again? Is he okay” Your eyes widen in shock as you lean in towards your boyfriend. The fight Luke had gotten into when kids made fun of Ryan’s glasses last year doesn’t feel that long ago.

Eddie nods, sighing again. He turns his head to look at you, a small melancholy smile on his face.

“Physically, yeah,” he says. “He’s upset though. He started it over something another kid said. About you.”

If the rug was pulled out from under you with the fight news, this crumbles the entire foundation of the house beneath you.

“Me?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says softly. He reaches over and rubs his hand over your thigh. “That you’re not his real mom.”

Your heart drops. Sadness and anger simultaneously begin to fill the now-empty space in your chest. 

“Can I talk to him?” you ask, a tentative tone to your voice. You’d completely understand if Eddie, as his dad, wanted to be the one to handle this. 

“I think you’re the only one who can make him feel better, honestly,” your boyfriend tells you. 

Something about that touches you. The fact that you have a special enough place carved out in Luke’s life that there’s a pain only you can soothe. 

Unsure of how to respond to that, you nod and push yourself up from the couch.

It’s quiet as you approach Luke’s room, but when you peek your head in, you see him sitting on his bed sniffling and rubbing his eyes.

“Hey, you.”

He doesn’t look up at the sound of your voice. Instead, he curls further in on himself and scoots closer to the bottom corner of his bed. Your heart aches more and more with every step you take towards him. 

His Hot Wheels blanket shifts beneath you as you take a seat next to him. 

“Do you want to talk?” you ask him quietly. 

There are a few moments where his sniffling is the only noise in the apartment. Suddenly, Luke turns around and buries his head in your chest, his arms gripping you tightly around the waist. 

A gasp escapes you, shocked at the overt show of emotion. The usually happy and bubbly little boy sobbing into your t-shirt tears your heart in half. You instinctively wrap your arms around him, hugging him close to your body. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” you coo before pressing a kiss into his curls. “I’ve got you. Everything is okay.”

Luke’s heart wrenching cries bring tears to your own eyes and you do your best to blink them away. 

“I love you,” you mumble against his hair. “I love you so much, you wouldn’t believe.”

He pulls back and looks up at you with wide watery eyes. His face is tear-stained and rosy red. The pain you find there is unbearable. You’d give anything to make him feel better, to make him happy.

“I…I love you, t-too,” he warbles out. 

You press a kiss to his forehead, and he pulls away a little more so he can wipe his eyes. 

“Are you okay, sweetie?” you ask, reaching up and wiping away a tear he missed. 

“I-I got in a fight,” he admits. 

“About what?”

His bottom lip wobbles but he swallows down the fresh tears that threaten to pour. 

“Brandon Sim-Simpson kept saying you don’t love me because you’re n-not a r-real mommy.”

“Oh, Luke.” One of the tears that had collected spills down your cheek and you’re quick to wipe it away. “You don’t think that, do you?”

The little boy shakes his head, his curls bouncing with the motion. You breathe a sigh of relief. It would absolutely break you if Luke believed this punk kid and doubted your affection for him.

“Good.” Gently, you cup Luke’s face in your hands and look him straight in the eye. “Luke, I love you, Ryan, and Daddy more than anything or anyone else in the world. I didn’t know it was possible to love someone as much as I love you.”

“H-He wouldn’t believe me,” Luke sniffles. 

“Well…then he’s stupid.”

Luke’s eyes widen at your words. He never expected to hear you talk like that about a kid. But this particular kid hurt your boy, so you think calling him “stupid” is on the tame end of the spectrum. 

“Honey, you know that I love you. Me, Ryan, and Daddy all know it and we all love each other. That’s all that matters.” You smooth some curls away from his face. “I know what he said hurt you. He was wrong in what he said. But it’s true I’m also not your mommy.”

The six-year-old glumly nods his head, his eyes downcast.

“But…” You tip his chin back up, so he’ll look at you. “That doesn’t mean I don’t love you in the same way a mommy does. Because I do. I would do anything for you.” I would die for you, you think to yourself. I would kill for you. “I will love you for the rest of my life, and even after.”

“Even after?” Luke asks.

“Yeah,” you say with a soft smile. “I’ll be a ghost and still try to squeeze you.” You wrap him up in your arms and pull him into your lap. He’s getting a little big for this, but you don’t give a shit.

Luke tucks his head under your chin and his hands grip your upper arms, as if he doesn’t want to let you go. “You’re everything to me, Luke. The fact that I’m not the one who brought you into this world doesn’t change that. Nothing can ever change it. You’re my little boy.”

“You’re better than a mommy,” Luke says against your neck, letting his eyes slip closed.

His words warm your heart, and you give him a soft squeeze. 

“Thank you.” Softly, you rub your hand up and down his back. “Do you feel better?”

You can feel his curls brush against you as he nods his head. He sniffles once more before tilting his head back to look up at you.

“Yes. I’m sorry I got in a fight.”

“I understand the feelings getting too big, sweetheart. But we have to find better ways to express them, okay?”

He nods again and dives back in for another hug. 

You cling to him just as tightly as he does to you. The love the two of you have for one another surrounds you in a warm bubble, solidifying this moment in both of your memories. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for Luke, and you’ll spend the rest of your life showing him in a million different ways. 

[snowball-doie]

| pairing: virgin!sub!Jisung x fangirl!Dom!fem!Reader

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. Corruption kink (ish). Blowjob. He's a lil lost in the sauce.

| wc: 5.5k

| aurora's note: shout out to @floresmu3rtas for being my co-conspirator for this one. pt 2 coming soon on her blog hehehee

| part two (written by @floresmu3rtas) // part three

What an odd turn of events the night of your concert took… On the way to the stadium, you and your friends talked about getting burgers after the show to cure your inevitable post-concert depression, and once you were in bed, you’d sit down in pajamas and go through all of the freebies you guys collected. It sounded like fun. After all, you just spent hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars going to see NCT Dream live for the first time ever, so why wouldn’t you go early to collect freebies, record all the videos possible, then go home and reflect on the fun night with your friends? But on your way out of the show, you were stopped. A security guard came out from behind  the barricade while the crowds slowly shuffled towards the exit, and he approached your friend group directly. He wore all black and a mask to cover his face… It was leagues different from the stadium’s security who wore bright yellow shirts and looked like they wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed instead of having to make sure some idiot fangirls didn’t try to climb onto the stage.

“My boss wants to talk to you,” he said directly to you, unflinching when you were struck with so much confusion that you looked around at your friends for an explanation they couldn’t provide.

“Am I in trouble?” you asked.

“No.”

So, albeit reluctantly, you handed your bag of freebies and your lightstick to your friends before following the man through the hole in the barricade that was covered up by stadium security once you were in, and you were casually led backstage where the staff was working to take down the set in order to transport it to the next tour stop in two days. Every once in a while, the security guard would glance over his shoulder to make sure that you were following him. Of course you were. There were so many staff members running around that you feared getting lost or dragged away in the chaos of it all, so you stuck close to him. When he dove into a side room, you followed. Standing there was a manager you recognized from Twitter posts of the members at airports— He was Jisung’s manager, specifically… And beside him was a woman you didn’t recognize, but she welcomed you with a smile even though the manager and the security guard didn’t.

“Welcome,” she said kindly. Your anxiety was eased by her somewhat. “Sorry for jumping you like this and everything, I know you’re probably confused and a bit scared.” You blushed in response, unsure of what to say. Were you in trouble… Or… “One of our bosses wants to talk to you privately later, but our job is to make sure that you’re okay with talking to him, and that whatever kind of… conversation… happens, that it stays private between the two of you.”

Oh?

She gestured to the manager who put a small stack of papers on the coffee table that sat between you and them. “I’m a lawyer for SM, and this is one of the managers for the group. If you’d like to talk to our boss as much as he’d like to talk to you, we’re here to witness before anything else happens that you sign these papers.”

You stepped forward to find what you already knew in the back of your mind since you were stopped with your friends, yet you refused to admit it until you saw the words “NON-DISCLOSURE AGREEMENT” typed at the top of the document. Fuck. Okay… Sure… It was happening… The unrealistic Y/N type of story you read a million times over on the internet somehow graced your reality, and of all people, it seemed that it was Jisung who wanted to “talk” to you… Fuck. Shit. Okay. Fuck.

“You don’t have to sign, if you don’t want to. I want to make that clear,” the lawyer continued.

“No, I’ll sign,” you replied quickly before your thoughts could catch up to your mouth. You blushed at your eagerness. It seemed a bit pathetic to jump at the opportunity so quickly with little to no information from the other three people standing in the room— And why the hell did Jisung want to “talk” to you? What the fuck was going on!

The lawyer smiled and sat on the couch beside the coffee table, and she gestured for you to join her, so you did. The security guard remained at the door, and the manager sat across from you. “All this legal nonsense basically just states that you can’t tell anyone about what happens tonight between you and any of the members of the group and any staff members, including myself. You can’t record audio or visuals of any situation. You can’t post any details on social media. If you break any of these regulations, then the company has the right to sue you for breach of contract, and there’s usually a fine involved. If any kind of pornography were to be recorded and/or distributed, you’ll be sued by the company for breach of contract and distribution of revenge pornography.” She chuckled nervously to mirror your own reaction, then she put a hand on your shoulder to comfort you. “I know it’s overwhelming. Again, you don’t have to sign, and you’re free to leave at any point. And you should know that if anything illegal happens, you do have the right to go to the police, and you won’t be sued for breach of contract. Okay?”

You nodded vaguely.

“We’ll give you a few minutes to read and decide if you still want to sign. After that, if you sign, we’ll take you to see our boss. If you don’t want to sign, that’s alright too, we’ll just help you find a way home, alright?”

You nodded again.

“Okay.”

She gestured to the security guard and the manager who stepped out of the room while she went to a mini fridge in the corner of the room so that she could grab a soda as she scrolled through her phone, pretending not to hover in order to give you space to make your decision. You’d be stupid not to sign, right? If you were ever allowed to tell your friends— Which, obviously the NDA in front of you was airtight, so you wouldn’t be able to, but… If they knew, and if you didn’t sign, they would slap you silly for fucking up the chance to spend time with Jisung. You had to sign. Of course you did. Right? Shit. Reading the document made it scarier because the whole situation was becoming all too real.

Ah, fuck it.

You picked up the pen next to the papers, and you flipped to the last page to sign. The lawyer immediately looked up and pocketed her phone, striding to return to you so that she could collect the signed papers.

“Alright, I’ll have the security guard outside take you to the hotel the boys are staying at. I’m sure you understand that you’ll be led there discreetly, and once you’re there, you can’t tell anyone about what happens. Yes?”

You nodded again. “Yes.”

“If something happens, though, if you need anything, here’s my number.” She handed you her business card. “And don’t forget, you can always say no… And, um… If you need to leave, you can.”

You stared at her. Was it wrong to sell your life away so carelessly like that? She was distributing her warnings like there was prior experience, and you hoped that it had nothing to do with what you were about to confront. Still, your legs carried you to the door where the security guard was standing, and once the manager in the hallway noticed the signed papers, he walked off to go handle something while the security guard turned to lead you through the corridors of the stadium to the backstage garage. There, a black van was waiting with the engine running. The security guard climbed in, and you followed, then another guard closed the van’s door. With two brief thuds on the backside of the car, the driver started off out of the garage.

The drive to the hotel was a silent one. Neither the driver nor the security guard sitting next to you said anything. While you stared out the window, asking yourself what was going to happen, the security guard texted on his phone. You wondered if it was about work, if he was texting the manager or Jisung about where you were, and that you’d signed the NDA, and that you were shaking with anxiety. How many girls had they done this with? How many different girls had Jisung spotted in the crowd, despite the bright stage lights that made it next to impossible to see anything at all 

At the hotel, everything was just as quiet as the car ride, most people already asleep or at least in the comfort of their rooms, save for the one employee at the front desk in the lobby who only greeted you with a smile as you passed by to follow the security guard to the elevator. No one joined you on the way up to the seventh floor. And no one interrupted you as the security card swiped the key to the sixth room and opened the door for you to step inside.

“He’ll be here in about ten minutes.” That was all he said before closing the door on you.

So you waited. Awkwardly. Standing in the middle of the hotel room, the bed a mess from what you assumed had to have been his mid-day nap before the show, his suitcase left open on the luggage rack at the foot of the bed, his toiletries neatly sorted on the bathroom counter. Boredom struck fast, and though you certainly didn’t feel comfortable touching anything, you decided to look around a bit. He used Crest toothpaste, and whitening strips, which shocked you, truth be told. There were a plethora of hair and skin care products that all had Korean labels, so you were unsure what they were all for.

Before you knew it, the front door was opening, and in walked Jisung Park. He hesitated in the doorway, the door still open, the security guard and his manager standing behind him. For a moment, he stared at you in silence. While you were still dressed to the nines for the concert, Jisung was already in a matching set of gray sweats and wearing his glasses instead of contacts. The only remnants from the concert were the sparkly stickers on his cheek and his stage make up.

He turned to whisper something in Korean to the men behind him before he quietly closed the door and stayed with his back turned to you for a minute. You were suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious. There he was, an idol, the idol of your favorite group, and yet you couldn’t seem to jump with excitement because of his mundane reaction to having a woman— A fangirl— waiting for him in his hotel room. Were you not what he wanted? Did he mean for one of your other friends to be pulled out of the crowd?

Then, with swift, quick steps, Jisung walked right past you without a second glance. Maybe he was acting so casual because he was used to it, and it was you who was doing something wrong. Were you supposed to be on the bed already? Or waiting on the couch? Were you supposed to look at him or keep your eyes down? Were you supposed to greet him or was the whole exchange meant to be silent? Maybe he just wanted to fuck you then toss you to the side like idols were rumored to do.

Jisung let out a shaky sigh. He turned to you slowly, finally sending a smile in your direction before bowing at the hip and introducing himself in English… As if he needed to explain to you who he was… Only hours prior you’d been screaming his name at the top of your lungs while fighting to get his attention in the sea of other fangirls. Of course you knew who he fucking was, why else would you have signed that NDA? Still, you did the polite thing by introducing yourself briefly and quietly, unsure if he really cared for your name or not.

He stared at you for another moment. “Do you want anything? Water? Soda? Alcohol? I can order room service.”

You shook your head. “I’m alright, thank you.”

And then he stared at you again. “You’re a fan, yes?” He walked to the mini fridge to pull out a soda. You nodded. “Am I your favorite?”

“Yes.”

He blushed down at the can in his hand while he struggled to open it. You noticed then that his hands were shaking and his foot was tapping against the carpet nervously. He looked almost as anxious as you.

“Sorry, I’ve just...  I don’t know what I’m doing. This was a bad idea, I think… Fucking Jeno…”

“Hey, listen, we don’t have to do anything.”

Jisung looked at you suddenly, the panic in his eyes wavering with the little bit of hope provided by your words. “Jjinja?”

“Yeah.”

He exhaled deeply. “I’m sorry about all this.” He set down the soda, abandoning the thought of fighting to open it any longer. “Was, um, was the show fun?”

“My friends and I had a lot of fun. It’s the first time we’ve seen you perform live. Did you have fun?”

“Yes.” His English seemed mildly limited, so he kept his answers brief in order to not embarrass himself, not that you would’ve minded.

Silence lingered again, the two of you unsure of what to do with yourselves. Eventually, Jisung figured it was more comfortable to pass the awkward time by sitting on the couch, his coke defrosting on the table next to him. Did he not like you? Did he not want you? Was he too shy or nice to kick you out? You wished he would just say what was on his mind rather than leave you to fend for yourself, flailing desperately in a situation you had no familiarity with. So in an attempt to figure out what he actually wanted, you poked the bear.

“We could try one thing, if you wanted.”

Like a deer lost in headlights, Jisung continued to stare at you with wide eyes behind his glasses. “Like what?”

“I could give you a blow job.”

He choked on air.

“But if you don’t want to, we can just talk… Or I can leave… Whatever makes you happy.”

“I wouldn’t know,” he muttered under his breath, looking down at his fidgeting hands. 

You didn’t really catch what he said. The quiet volume of his scared voice and the broken English made you reconsider if you even heard it at all.

Warily sitting next to him, you pried, “What do you mean?”

Jisung bit his swollen bottom lip. “I’ve never…” And then he rubbed a cool palm on the back of his neck to keep it from turning red with embarrassment, even though it was far too late. “I’ve never, um… Done that.”

For a moment, you wondered if there was a language barrier blocking you from understanding what he really meant. Then he looked at you with those wide, innocent eyes, and you knew the truth. He really hadn’t… Not even a blowjob? Or fingering a girl? Was that why he was so shy with  you— Not because you were a fan in his hotel room? You couldn’t help but laugh with relief. Jisung’s face fell and his body slumped with defeat.

“I’m not laughing at you!” you promised through one last giggle. “I thought you just didn’t like me or something.”

He panicked. “No, no! I think you’re really pretty…” He smiled through a blush that made him avert his gaze once more. “Jjinja… Geundae…” The cogs in his brain were working to find the right words in English. “I am… embarrassed… I don’t know what to do.”

“You wouldn’t have to do anything.”

That made him appear more self-conscious.

“I could teach you.”

It looked like he was about to pass out when you said that, endless possibilities forming behind his eyes that were slowly glazing over with lust. His eyes were so cute. When he looked like he was silently pleading for you to do just that, because he couldn’t bring himself to say the words confidently, you just about swooned thanks to the cuteness aggression twisting in your stomach. It was a wonder how a guy like him was a virgin with no experience. Since he was an idol, you just assumed off the bat, and because of the lawyer’s concerning warnings at the stadium, that he’d pulled aside plenty of girls and fucked them into different hotel mattresses then had them escorted out once he was done. But no. It sounded like maybe some of the others were used to that, but not Jisung. His bouncing leg and fidgeting hands over his lap directed your attention down to the erection growing in his sweatpants. Was he really that worked up just at the thought of having a fan blow him off? He should’ve just said so the second he walked through the front door instead of making you think he was regretting asking for you.

Still, you triple checked for consent before daring to touch him. “Do you want to?” It was as simple as you could make the question for him.

“Ne— Yes! Yes…” He cleared his throat uncomfortably.

Finally, with a smile, you inched closer to him on the couch, his body tensing up slightly in response, but he didn’t move or say anything to stop you. You stared at his lips while he stared at your tits. Obviously you’d worn something revealing in the hopes of getting your silly Y/N moment, but it was a pipe dream at the time, and now it was your reality.

“Here.” You took one of his shaky hands from his lap and lifted it to your breasts, guiding him to press his palm over one of them. He let out a shaky breath that made you feel the warmth on the tip of your nose. “Have you ever kissed anyone?” He nodded quickly. “When?”

“In high school… And once at the company… And… on New Year's Eve.”

He remembered all of his kisses? Adorable.

“Kiss me, then.”

Jisung hesitated, his breath still hot on your nose; But with a light squeeze around your covered boob, he leaned in and pressed his plump lips against yours. That was all he did. He pecked you, but he didn’t put effort into making out with you, with or without tongue. Maybe that was all those silly kisses in the past had been. So instead of interrogating him more, you took the lead, showing him how to do it properly by tilting your head the other way then sticking your tongue into his mouth. Jisung moaned followed by another squeeze that made you mewl in response.

It took him a bit to learn. The noticeable hesitancy in his kisses and touches indicated that he was worried about scaring you off at any moment, but you tried your best to encourage him by leaning more into him and squeezing your hand over his so that he would massage your breasts more. Of his own volition, his other hand went to your chest as well. You grinned against his lips before drifting to kiss his sharp jawline that all your friends fawned over in group chats, then you left a trail of kisses down to his neck. You knew that you couldn’t leave any marks. As fun as it would be to leave a hickey there to let the rest of the world know that you were the first person who ever got him off, it would be more of a hassle to cover it with makeup and hide it until the bruising subsided than it was worse. She’d probably get yelled at by his manager or the group’s lawyer. So you refrained from doing everything you wanted…

Instead, you left gentle, fluttering kisses that made Jisung moan up into the still hotel air. He was so sensitive. Had no one kissed the rest of his body before? Had it only been his lips? Surely whoever it was at the company that kissed him— Perhaps another idol— or whichever lucky dunk girl kissed him on New Years thought to kiss his neck and collarbones. How could they not? His skin was so perfect, and the contrast between his natural skin tone and the makeup he was wearing made your head spin. You thought about what he would look like bare faced… Unfortunate that you would never get to see it up close. The best you were ever going to get was him in sweats and stage make up, his erection in full throttle in his pants.

Your hand moved from your own lap to his knee, causing Jisung to jolt slightly and whimper. You turned to kiss the other side of his neck. Jisung’s thumbs tried to stimulate your nipples over your clothes, but there was simply too much fabric in the way, so he whined again and went back to massaging them. However, his movements came to a standstill when you ran your splayed left hand up his thigh before settling directly over his hard-on.

“Ssibal,” he moaned, squeezing his eyes shut.

Your free hand grabbed his chin. “Look at me.” So he did, his eyes glossed over with so much pleasure that he couldn’t open them all the way. When you palmed him briefly, Jisung let out a gasp and hunched forward slightly, his eyes really struggling to stay open for you now. “Does it feel good?”

“Ne.”

As your hand found the drawstring of his sweatpants, you released his chin so that you could slide off the couch and fall to your knees, multitasking between undoing his pants and crawling between his legs that he spread in order to accommodate you while he leaned back against the couch. Jisung watched you studiously. You could tell that behind those glasses of his, he was trying to memorize every detail of you and what you were doing for his spank-bank. The way you looked up at him through your lashes while you expertly untied his pants and helped him lift his hips so that you could pull his sweats down to his ankles. The way you teased him over his boxers for a minute just to get a visceral reaction out of him that made you giggle. The way you took off his underwear so easily. And, of course, what that first touch around his cock felt like.

Jisung’s hands balled into fists around the hem of his sweatshirt. “Fuck—” When your thumb ran over his tip, he shivered and squeezed his thighs together. “Fuck—“

You grinned. Poor thing already couldn’t tell left from right or up from down. Perhaps you could remind him by slowly pumping your fist up and down his length. Jisung wasn’t exactly what you expected. In all the fanfics you’d read about him, and all the times you speculated with friends, you never really stopped to imagine anything beyond his length. People liked to say he had a big cock. He did. Though, much of it had to do with said length you always theorized over, while his girth was just enough to fit in your hand that was wrapped around it. His tip was a dark shade somewhere between brown and pink, and the rest of him was dark and veiny… like his shaking hands. 

“You can touch me,” you told him.

His hands remained clasped around the fabric of his sweatshirt. You saw a bit of hesitancy, a twitch like he wanted to touch you, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it for whatever reason, so you continued what you were doing, jerking him off slowly until you saw precum seeping out of his tip. You grinned before licking it up suddenly. Jisung groaned and jerked again, his hands reaching to touch you before they retreated to his sweatshirt again. You watched him through your lashes as you replaced your fist with your mouth wrapped around his tip, your cheeks hollowing before you sunk down. His body couldn’t keep still. Even though you were trapped between his knees, his legs were desperately trying to close in around your shoulders, and his feet were tapping against the carpet at the same fast pace that his long, veiny fingers were fiddling with his sweatshirt.

As you came up for air, your hand pumped him slowly, and you asked with a grin, “Is this okay?”

He nodded desperately. “Please don’t stop.”

You obliged his pathetic plea, your mouth sinking back down, taking in his entire length until your nose bumped his shaved pubic bone. He whimpered like a wounded puppy, but his hips bucked up gently to encourage you to keep going. So you did. You found a steady rhythm switching between sucking him off and jerking him off, making sure to swallow every bit of sticky pre-cum he leaked into your mouth. He was covered in drool, but he didn’t seem to mind since it provided more lubrication for you to go faster and faster, prying the cutest, most pitiful moans you had ever heard in your entire life. Honestly, by the looks and sounds coming from him, he wasn’t going to last much longer. Virgins. They were always the most sensitive and eager to cum quickly.

“Gidarida— Ssibal, I’m cumming, fuck—”

There it was.

Jisung bit his lip and bucked up into your mouth while holding your head down. With his strong hold on you, all you could really do was use your tongue to rub against his cock while he rode out his orgasm. The amount of cum that filled your mouth was slightly surprising— You tried your best to swallow, but you were running out of air, until he finally released you, giving you a chance to lift up and breathe before cleaning up the mess dripping down his length. He slumped with an exhausted grunt.

After catching his breath for a moment, he opened his eyes to look down at you while you were wiping your lips with your thumb. “Are you okay?”

You nodded with a smile. “Yeah.”

“Sorry if I… Um… If you couldn’t breathe…”

You laughed out loud. “I’m fine, I promise. Did it feel good?”

Jisung blushed a bright color of red while nodding. He lifted his hips so that he could put his pants back on before raising his hood over his shaggy black hair.

When he noticed you moving to stand on your feet, Jisung leaned forward to offer his hands for you, which you gladly took, using his strength and leverage to push yourself up; However, once you were up, Jisung didn’t move you to the couch like you wanted, nor did he start leading you towards the front door like you half expected. No, Jisung acted like a gentleman, leading you to the bed where he had you sit down comfortably.

“I have some clean clothes you can wear if you want to be more comfortable,” he offered shyly.

Now it was your turn to stare like a deer lost in headlights. Why was he offering his clothes to you? How could he offer up something like that so freely— Then again, maybe wearing his clothes was more tame than sucking him off after only just meeting him for the first time.

“Sure.”

Jisung turned to his suitcase on the luggage rack and he began digging around for some clothes.

“And I’ll take you up on that water now,” you croaked.

Jisung nodded obediently, rushing to the mini fridge to grab a bottle before handing it to you then going back to looking for clothes. He ended up retrieving one of the merch shirts available at the stadium earlier— One that you actually bought despite your achingly empty wallet— and a pair of gray sweats eerily similar to his. After handing the clothes to you, he whispered something about going to wash his face in the bathroom in the meantime. You watched as Jisung timidly scurried to the bathroom, closing the door behind him, either for his privacy or his own, you weren't too sure, and then you heard the sink running. For a good thirty seconds, you were paralyzed on the bed, holding his clothes in your hands, staring at the couch you’d just given him a blowjob on. Jisung Park had only kissed four people in his lifetime, and  you were one of them. Even worse, you were the first and only person to ever suck him off… The first and only person to ever make him cum… What the fuck…

You forced yourself out of your trance of disbelief so that you could change before he was done. You folded your own clothes neatly since you’d probably have to wear them out of the hotel later, but you kept your underwear and bra on for safety purposes. Besides, it was his clothes you were wearing, you felt too awkward to go completely naked underneath. And as you were taking down your hair, you heard the water shut off followed by Jisung asking if he could come out. When you told him it was safe, the door reopened and he stepped out.

He gulped when he saw you. “You really are very pretty.”

To hide your blush, you drank from the water bottle he gave you. Jisung moved across the hotel room, initiating the next segment of the night where he laid on his side in the messy bed, leaving plenty of space for you while he watched you anticipatingly.

“I thought you didn’t want to fuck.”

“I don’t,” he said with the most amount of confidence you’d heard from him all night, even in comparison to when he was on stage. “I just don’t want you to leave yet. Is that okay?”

The way you easily slid into bed, setting the water bottle down on the bedside table, was enough of an answer, but you still entertained him with a quiet, “That’s okay.”

Jisung shifted as you both worked to pull the covers up your torsos to keep warm. “I was going to wear that shirt for sound check tomorrow,” he admitted with a nervous chuckle. “It was the only clean one I had left.” You panicked, immediately sitting up to take it off while apologizing for being an inconvenience, but Jisung reached out to stop you. Both of you paused with his hands on your wrists. “It’s okay. I like seeing you wear it better.”

You looked away from him due to your own self-consciousness as you laid back down with him.

Both of you settled in the bed comfortably, his elbow propped on his pillow so that his hand could hold up his head while he stared at you. Part of you was too overwhelmed to look at him. Mere hours ago you’d been cheering at his concert as a stranger, and now he knew your name, and you’d sucked his cock. You weren’t really strangers anymore. But you weren’t friends or something other than that either. You were just an awkward one night stand that he would remember as “that one time in a hotel on tour” the next time some lucky girl would ask for his history before taking his virginity. Whoever she would be, she was damn lucky, and she didn’t even know it yet… It was a shame it couldn’t be you, honestly. Not because he was an idol you loved, but because he was so adorable, and hot, and well-equiped to fuck you. The idea of teaching him everything there was to know about fucking a girl, corrupting his innocent, bashful mind made you wet, but you had to clench your legs shut to make sure he wouldn’t find out or get suspicious after you’d change out of his clothes. Whenever that would be. Did he expect you to stay the night? Why else would he give you his clothes? What would the morning look like? What would everything after the morning look like?

“Have you ever thought about visiting Korea?”

You shrugged. “Sometimes. I don’t have money like that though. Not yet, at least. Maybe one day I can go— I always wanted to see a concert there.” You giggled at the thought.

Jisung smiled back at you, his hand falling out from under him so that his cheek could hit the pillow while he continued to stare. He didn’t say anything else. You waited for him to instigate another conversation, and you wished that you could think of something to talk to him about aside from idol life or his personal life. You weren’t sure what was appropriate. But by the time you decided to ask him if he had any pets, Jisung was sound asleep next to you, a content smile still plastered to his face. You smirked and brushed his bangs out of his face.

[mattsfavoritestar]

back_to_matt_masterlist

NO CONTROL, matt sturniolo

part 1

synopsis… matt made it clear to everyone that you were his. everyone but you.

warnings… fratboy!matt, collagestudent!reader, female reader, mentions of kissing, slightly suggestive, slightly possessive!matt, slightly obsessive!matt, mostly fluffy, mentions of alcohol and drug usage,

word count… 1174

“i just don’t get it? do i look okay? is it my breath?”, you ranted as you felt your friends hand rubbing your back. yet another guy you tried flirting with scrambled away with small apologies. you didn’t even want to try with the rest, they all avoided you as if you had the plague.

“probably just some dumb rumor someone started” your friend reassured. you sighed as you downed the red solo cup you were nursing for the past five minutes. “i wanna dance” you mumbled as you pulled your friend over to the more crowded area.

your head felt warm and fuzzy with the bass of the music bouncing off the walls as the alcohol melted into your system. you weren’t paying attention to anyone else in the room nor did you care to. till you were literally knocked out of your trance.

“yo, watching where you stepping bitch”, a series of gasp followed. your friend balanced you by holding your shoulders then pushed you behind her. you heard her voice berate him for being blind and delusional as he clearly bumped into you. you were already done with the day with the failed hook up attempts still fresh in your mind.

“c’mon i just wanna go” you grumbled. you had no energy to deal with whatever drugs this fratboy was high off of. one of the guys who were watching you from afar walked up to the fratboy and whispered in his ear. you watch his eyes widen and jaw slightly drop. you figured it wasn’t your friends lecture that gave him said reaction but more so of what that guy told him.

he gripped his hair in a panic as the harsh words from your friend aired right over his head. you watch him curiously as he started stuttering out an apology to you. “i’m so- i didn’t- fuck please don’t tell sturniolo” he begged.

sturniolo?

matt sturniolo?

“what are you talking about?” you ask in both annoyance and confusion. “i swear i didn’t know you were sturniolo’s girl-“ you ignore the rest of his apology as you felt the little alochol you drank earlier fuel your emotions into a rage. you swiftly turn around and march out of the party with your friend calling after you in confusion.

“matthew bernard sturniolo!” you called out with anger laced in your voice. you were annoyed with how your night was going, annoyed with that stupid coke addict calling you out your name, and to top it off you were met the face of someone who could pass as matt’s clone.

“woah calm down sweetheart,” chris chuckles. you were annoyed with one triplet already, you didn’t need another practically laughing in your face. “did you know?” you ask with a pointed finger. his hands shot up in the air, “i got nothing to do that, kid’s got no control of himself” he smiled.

you rolled your eyes, “where is he chris” you ask. chris nods towards the stairs, indicating matt residing in his room. you push past him as you heard yet another chuckle fall from his lips. too many eyes were watching you as you walked toward the familiar door. it wouldn’t be the first that these guys saw you head to matt’s room, only this time, it felt different.

you didn’t even bother knocking as you swung the door open. instantly hit with clouds of smoke with the soft voice of frank ocean playing in the background. matt was sitting on his bed with his back to his headboard as his head lazily rested back.

you strutted over to him but felt your anger slightly slip at the sight of his relaxed face and tussled hair. a smirk slowly painted his face as his heavy eyelids revealed his reddened blue eyes. “enjoying the view?” he says in a cocky tone.

“fuck off, i know what you did” you stated. you felt his hands slither their way onto your waist then swiftly pull you onto his lap. “yeah? tell me what i did baby” he whispered as he trailed his lips on your neck, occasionally leaving small kisses.

that alcohol in your system made your skin feel warmer. that, mixed with the fact that matt looked so good right now really wasn’t helping your interrogation. your body subconsciously pushed closer to feel more of matt as your words grew shorter.

“matt fuck. no- no stop.” you say as you find your self restraint.

he looked at you with his hooded red eyes, blown out pupils, and glossy lips. you had to compose yourself before you did the complete opposite of what you originally came to do. “why’d you tell people i’m off-limits?” you calmly ask him, you weren’t even mad anymore.

he shrugged, “just didn’t feel like sharing” he mumbled. you sighed as your fingers threaded through the back of his hair. “matt, we said no strings-“ you were cut off by his low groan. matt never took himself as the type of guy to like to have his hair being played with. if anything he always said that was for those corny ass couples. yet here he was melting at your touch.

“i’m not sorry if that’s what you’re asking” he says. you let out another sigh, “matt you can’t go around claiming me then go fuck other-“ a hand gripped your jaw as he makes you look directly at him.

“don’t even start with that shit, m’all yours” he says in a stern voice. you were at lost for words, entire topic completely blurring away. he pulled you into a kiss then drops his hand to your waist as his other holds your lower back. you pull away slightly, hovering over his lips. “i think we’re both a little too vulnerable right now” you whisper.

matt’s head drops to the crook of your neck. he inhales with a groan as the scent of your perfume fills his nostrils. “you always smell so good” he mumbles against your skin. you gasp as he flips you both over, you head bouncing onto the pillow. his entire body laid on top of you. “matt i can’t sleep like this, my legs might go numb” you laugh.

you felt him shrug, “i don’t care” he says. you remove your hand from his head to try reaching for your phone. matt’s head snapped up with a scowl on his face. “i gotta text-“ you were cut off as he takes your phone and tosses it to the bedside table. “text her tomorrow” he says as he takes your hand and places it back onto his head.

you laugh again, “matt you’re insane”. he didn’t respond but instead nestled his head right onto your stomach as his other creeps under your shirt. you didn’t care as you felt the weight of his hand under your bra, you knew there was no sexual intention behind it. as your eyes drooped down, you knew that you were going to be pissed with yourself in the morning.

[solxamber]

Antinomy - Leo Kurosagi x reader

You and Leo have been at each other's throats for the past few years. So why does it feel so wrong when he shows up at your door bruised and bloody? aka the prompt: "I didn't know where else to go"

The knock is sharp, almost a thud, one that echoes through the room like the reverberation of some bad omen. It’s well past two in the morning, and nothing good ever comes from visitors at this hour. But still, curiosity gets the better of you, and you open the door with more force than you intend.

You freeze. It’s Leo.

He’s leaning against the doorframe, disheveled, one arm clutching his side. His usual smug demeanor is nowhere to be found; instead, his face is bruised, streaks of dried blood trailing from his nose. There’s a cut above his eyebrow, barely clotted, and his shirt is torn like it’s seen better days—like he’ seen better days. It’s probably the first time you’ve ever seen him so out of sorts.

“What the hell…” You can barely get the words out as he leans more heavily on the frame, gritting his teeth.

“Look,” he rasps, voice rougher than the usual annoyingly smug tone, “I didn’t know where else to go.”

You stare, unblinking, taking in the sight of him—your infamous rival, the bane of your existence, now standing battered and barely on his feet. A barrage of thoughts rush through your mind. The first: how the hell did he end up like this? The second: why is he here?

When you don’t immediately move or speak, Leo’s mouth curls into something resembling a smirk—though it’s weaker, a shadow of his usual arrogance. “Sho’s out of town… and as much as you love hating me… we both know you don’t hate me enough to leave me out here bleeding.”

Your jaw tightens at that. The nerve. But he’s right. Damn him, he’s always right when it comes to this—knowing just how far to push before you break.

“What did you do?” you finally snap, folding your arms, though it feels more like an attempt to shield yourself from whatever storm’s about to follow him inside.

“Picked the wrong fight,” he mutters. “Didn’t turn out quite the way I expected.”

“Clearly.” You look him up and down, incredulous. “And Alan? Why didn’t you just call Alan?”

A wince flashes across his face as he tries to straighten himself. “I'm already on thin ice with him. I'd rather not hear it from him right now.”

“You expect me to help you? You do realize who you’re talking to, right?” You bite out, though a part of you already knows you’ll cave. There’s something different about Leo tonight. Gone is the usual bravado, the mocking quips and cynical remarks. In their place, you see desperation—vulnerability. He wouldn’t have come here unless he really had no other option.

“Come on,” he breathes, his voice fraying at the edges. “As much as you’d love to see me suffer, you wouldn’t let me bleed out on your doorstep.”

You hate that he’s right. And you hate that some twisted part of you does care—more than you’re willing to admit, even now. With a sigh, you step back, allowing him entry.

“Fine,” you huff, “but don’t expect me to play nice.”

“I’d never expect that from you,” he says with a pained grin as he limps inside.

You close the door behind him, trying to ignore the pounding in your chest. You’re rivals—you hate him, really—and yet, here you are, letting him into your space, into your life when he’s at his weakest. It’s irrational. It’s stupid. But it’s Leo, and you’ve never been able to figure out why you care so much about someone who’s made your life extremely inconvenient for so long.

“Sit,” you order, motioning toward the couch.

He gives you a mock salute, then collapses onto the cushions with a groan, clutching his side tighter.

“What the hell happened to you?” You grab a first-aid kit from the kitchen, already mentally preparing yourself for a long night.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Leo mumbles, though the way he winces with every breath tells a different story. “Just got a little out of hand.”

“A little?” You raise an eyebrow, kneeling down in front of him to examine the damage. His knuckles are bloodied, the cut on his eyebrow still oozing slightly. His shirt’s soaked with sweat, and you can see the bruises spreading across his ribs. He looks like he’s been through a war.

Leo watches you with an unreadable expression as you start cleaning his wounds. “What’s with the concern, hmm? Thought you’d be celebrating right about now. Finally got me on my knees, and not in the way you imagined.”

You glare at him, pushing a bit harder on the wound than necessary. He hisses but doesn’t flinch. “Shut up, Leo. You’re lucky I don’t kick you while you’re down.”

He chuckles softly, though it’s strained. “You always had a mean streak.”

“Maybe I just hate you.”

His grin falters for a moment, something almost… hurt flickering in his eyes. “Yeah, maybe.”

There’s a beat of silence, the weight of the moment pressing down on both of you. You’ve patched him up as best you can and cleaned the wounds on his knuckles but they still looked raw and painful. But the tension in the air is thick, and neither of you seems willing to break it.

“You didn’t have to come here,” you murmur, sitting back on your heels, arms crossing over your chest again. “You could’ve gone to anyone. Your fans would’ve eaten this up. Why come to me?”

Leo’s gaze shifts to the floor. For the first time since you opened the door, he looks… unsure.

“I… I didn’t want them to see me like this,” he admits quietly, his usual cocky bravado nowhere to be found. “And Sho wasn’t around. You were the only one I thought of.”

Your heart skips a beat, though you fight to keep your expression neutral. “Why?”

“Because I knew you wouldn't let me bleed out,” he says, so softly you almost don’t hear it.

And there it is. The vulnerability beneath all the layers of arrogance and wit. The part of Leo you’ve only ever caught glimpses of. You’ve always known it was there, buried deep under his ego, but seeing it now, laid bare in front of you, feels… different.

“Dumbass,” you mutter, looking away. “You picked a fight, got yourself hurt, and now you’re here expecting me to fix it.”

“I don’t expect you to fix anything,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I just didn’t know where else to go.”

You take a deep breath, trying to rein in your frustration. He’s hurt, and despite all the history between you two—the constant bickering, the rivalry that’s lasted years—this is different. He came to you when he was at his lowest, and there’s something in that which makes your chest tighten.

You sit down beside him on the couch, careful to give him space but not too much. It’s a strange feeling, having Leo so close, especially like this—broken, vulnerable, his cocky grin now replaced by something far more human.

“Why do you always do this to yourself?” The words slip out before you can stop them, not exactly what you meant to say, but the only thing that comes to mind. “You pick fights you know you can’t win and rely on Sho to bail you out. What do you think will happen if he can’t make it in time?” You gesture toward his battered state. “And when he couldn’t, you showed up at my door?” Your voice trembles as you take a shuddering breath. “Do you expect me to pick up the pieces?”

Leo glances at you out of the corner of his eye, and for a second, you think he might laugh it off, make some snide remark like he usually does. But he doesn’t. Instead, he just sighs, leaning his head back against the cushions, eyes closing.

“I don’t know,” he admits quietly, and it catches you off guard. “Maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment.”

You shake your head, frustration boiling beneath the surface. “That’s not an answer, Leo. You’re reckless. You put yourself in danger just for the thrill of it, and then what? You expect people to be there to bail you out?”

“I don’t expect anyone to do anything for me,” he says, his voice sharp, but there’s an edge of defeat in it. “Not even you.”

“Then why come here?” you press, anger rising. “Why not just go home and patch yourself up like you usually do?”

He opens his eyes, turning his head to look at you. There’s something raw in his gaze, something you’ve never seen before. It’s unsettling, like he’s letting you in, showing you a part of himself that he’s always kept hidden.

“Because I knew you’d actually care,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

And there it is again, that vulnerability, the crack in his armor. It’s the one thing you never expected from him, and it’s throwing you off balance. You don’t know how to respond, don’t know how to deal with Leo when he’s like this—so exposed, so… real.

You swallow hard, looking away. “You’re an idiot, Leo.”

“Yeah,” he mutters, leaning his head back again, closing his eyes. “I know.”

Silence falls between you, thick and uncomfortable, but also strangely intimate. You can hear his breathing, slow and steady now that he’s stopped trying to act tough. His hand rests on his lap, knuckles still raw from whatever fight he got himself into. Without thinking, you reach out, gently taking his hand in yours, inspecting the damage despite just cleaning it.

He doesn’t pull away.

“You could’ve died,” you say softly, the words almost getting caught in your throat. “And for what? A stupid fight?”

He’s quiet for a long moment, and when he finally speaks, his voice is low, almost pained. “Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if I had.”

Your heart stops. You turn to him, eyes wide, but he doesn’t look back at you. He keeps his gaze fixed on the ceiling, as if he’s afraid to meet your eyes.

“Leo…” you start, but you don’t know how to finish. You’ve never heard him talk like this—so defeated, so broken. It’s like you’re seeing a completely different person, someone who’s been hiding behind that arrogant smirk for years, and it scares you.

“I’m tired,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Tired of all of it.”

You swallow hard, trying to keep your emotions in check. “Then why do you keep doing it? Why do you keep putting yourself through this?”

“Because I don’t know how to stop,” he admits, his voice trembling. “I don’t know how to be anything else.”

The words hang in the air between you, heavy and suffocating. You can feel the weight of them, pressing down on your chest, making it hard to breathe. You’ve always known that there was more to Leo than the cocky influencer he portrayed online, but you never realized just how deep his insecurities ran.

You squeeze his hand gently, hoping to offer some kind of comfort. “You don’t have to do this alone, you know. You don’t have to keep pretending like everything’s fine when it’s not.”

He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “And who’s going to help me? You?”

You meet his gaze, holding it this time. “Yes. Me.”

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The tension is thick, but there’s something else there too—something unspoken, something that’s been building between you for years. You’ve always been rivals, always been at each other’s throats, but underneath all of that, there’s been this… connection. This thing that neither of you has ever been willing to acknowledge.

Until now.

Leo’s eyes soften, his usual sharp wit dulled by exhaustion and pain. He watches you for a moment, like he’s trying to figure something out, and then, slowly, he leans in.

You don’t stop him.

His lips brush against yours, tentative at first, like he’s testing the waters, waiting for you to push him away. But you don’t. Instead, you close the distance, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that’s soft, but filled with years of unresolved tension.

It’s messy and imperfect, but it feels right—like this was always supposed to happen, like this was the inevitable conclusion of everything that’s ever passed between you. And for a moment, it’s just the two of you, lost in each other, everything else fading away.

When he finally pulls back, he looks at you with something like disbelief in his eyes, like he can’t quite believe what just happened.

“You…” he starts, but he doesn’t finish. He doesn’t need to.

You just nod, leaning your forehead against his. “Yeah. Me.”

And in that moment, something between you shifts. The walls that you’ve both spent years building up start to crumble, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you’re both just… there. Vulnerable. Real.

It’s terrifying, but it’s also liberating.

“You don’t have to keep doing this, Leo,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “You don’t have to keep fighting.”

He closes his eyes, exhaling softly. “I don’t know how to stop.”

“You don’t have to do it alone,” you say again, squeezing his hand. “I’m here.”

For a long moment, he doesn’t respond. But then, slowly, he nods and buries his face into your neck.

“Okay,” he whispers.

And for the first time in years, Leo lets his guard down.

Masterlist

[thespiritssaidso]

Emotional Support Psychic

Summary: Lassiter had no clue what touch-therapy was, let alone that it even existed. That is, until he saw an ad for one in the newspaper.

Shawn had been hired to be a ‘professional cuddler’ — his words — as a side job when Psych was running low on cases and money.

Notes: thank you psych discord for this idea. Needed to write myself a pick-me-up and you guys came in clutch <3

Also I should say right now that I have no idea where Lassie lives in season 3. I have no clue if he actually does live within a mile perimeter of the station. But it’s whatever, y’know. This is fanfic. So, enjoy lol

Word count: 2,472

—————

Shawn spun around in his rolly chair, legs tucked up against his chest as his hands did all the work, pulling at the desk every once in a while to regain lost momentum. He’d wobbled a few times, but would quickly right himself every time. He hummed a tune under his breath that sounded suspiciously like ‘Around the World’ by Daft Punk.

“Shawn, if you keep doing that, you’re going to puke.” Gus, who was sitting calmly in his own chair, reprimanded. He himself was on his computer, checking emails to see if he’d missed anything from his boss or coworkers.

“My stomach is made of steel, Gus. It’ll take a lot more than this to make me throw up.” It was true. The only times Shawn ever vomited was when someone else did it right in front of him. And even then, it was still a 50/50 chance of him reacting to it.

Gus just rolled his eyes. He knew that Shawn was telling the truth. But just watching him spin around like that was making him feel dizzy and lips tingly with nausea.

A ding from Shawn’s phone startled them both. Well, only a little bit. But that was enough to unbalance him and send him to the floor in a heap. He wasn’t deterred, however, and hopped right up and resituated his chair as if nothing happened.

A quick glance at his screen told him everything. “Ooo, finally!”

“What? What is it?”

“You remember that uh… that hug-therapy thing I put out an application for and got hired?”

“Yeah. And I still don’t get why you did that. Touching random strangers isn’t exactly something that sounds the most exciting. Kind of the opposite, actually.”

“First of all: don’t say it like that. It makes me sound like a prostitute. Nothing against them, that’s their choice of work.”

“Well, you are technically selling your body to people you don’t know.”

Shawn ignored that comment. “And B: That’s where you’re wrong, Gus. All kinds of young, touch-starved hotties who grew up unloving homes need hugs. I’d say that’s not very boring.”

“So, you’re taking advantage of someone in need.”

“Quit twisting my words around, man! You know what I meant.”

Gus clicked his tongue. “Whatever. Why’re you bringing it up, anyway?”

“I just got my first assignment! But it’s anonymous. They’re probably embarrassed about getting a professional.”

“Now look at who’s making it sound weird.”

Shawn just waved him off. “They’ve booked a thirty minute session at their place.” With an address listed, of course. In fact, that was all that was in the small text he’d gotten. No name, not even a gender. Only a time and place. A little weird, but hey, who was he to judge? He was the one that basically signed up for this.

“I don’t like this, Shawn. What if it’s a serial killer?”

“Chill out, Gus. If it is a serial killer, then they’d have to be the dumbest one in the history of ever. The address they gave me is like, four blocks away from the station. If they pull a knife on me I can just run out and grab Lassie or Jules. Or even Buzz, if neither of them are there.”

Gus didn’t look very reassured. “Maybe that’s why they chose that spot. Because no one would suspect somewhere so close to the police.”

“You’re so clinical. You know that, right?”

“You mean cynical. Clinical wouldn’t make any sense in that context.”

“I’ve heard it both ways.”

———

Shawn sped down the road on his motorcycle (Gus refused to let him use the Blueberry). Buildings were a blur, meshing together in his peripherals. As he drove, he checked his watch. 7:13 p.m. Yeah, he was gonna make it.

It was still a little odd to him that the client gave no details other than when and where they wanted the session to take place. Shawn was no expert when it came to this, but he knew some people would at least put in a comment or two about themselves. Heck, maybe even just if they had some topics they wanted to talk about or movies they wanted to watch during their session. He seriously didn’t expect his client to want to just sit there in awkward silence as he snuggled up to them.

So, as he rode, he tried coming up with topics. 80’s movies or shows, if the topic came up. Pineapple? Maybe put that one on the back burner, as a last resort.

What if whoever it was asked why he’d chosen to be a touch-therapist?

He could make up some sob-story about how his parents never gave him enough love as a child and now he wants to give others cuddles so no one would have to feel how he’d felt.

It… actually wasn’t totally far from the truth. He did in fact sign up to work as a touch-therapist as a way to satiate his own touch-starve-ingness. Maybe he should go with that. Makes for a good sob story. But he wouldn’t admit that to Gus, or his dad, or anyone he knew personally, for that matter. All it would do was just open up a whole discussion that he definitely didn’t want to have.

Besides, Shawn didn’t just want this, he was built for this. The stockiness of Shawn’s body didn’t come easy, no sir. It took a lot to go from eating only when he was hungry, to eating regularly scheduled meals and when he was hungry. If that made sense. And it worked, too. He’d gone from being called a twink by random people at bars while he was on the road, to being… healthy. Not so much of a stick, or a walking skeleton. It was also probably how he’d gotten hired so easily, given his extensive resume.

Shawn parked his bike on the curb next to the house. It was nice, the paint was a pretty shade of green, single story but wide enough to look like it could easily house two people with space for other rooms. The yard was decently sized, and the grass wasn’t overgrown. It was all painstakingly tidy. Whoever lived here was probably the biggest neat freak ever-

Then he noticed the red Crown Vic parked in the driveway.

No way. No way. Lassie? Lassie had called and scheduled an appointment with him? The Carlton Lassiter had scheduled an appointment to be cuddled by the fake psychic?

Well, not with him specifically. All assignments were at random, unless special requests were made by the clients. So that meant Lassiter, Carlton Lassiter, had either made a request with such specific details that made Shawn the only candidate, or he just hadn’t cared and Shawn was chosen by some weird stroke of fate.

Either way, Shawn needed the money. And he definitely wasn’t going to turn down the chance at being able to — professionally — cuddle up with Lassiter. This was his dream, since… well, since he’d been manhandled by him during the missing ring case. He just didn’t expect it to come so soon. Or like this.

With that, he shoved his helmet under his arm and walked up to the small porch. Five knocks later, and he heard the sound of footsteps along with Lassiter's voice, muffled by the door that stood between them. “-know I didn’t put a lot of information, sorry about that. Thanks for coming anyways-” The door opened, and there stood Lassiter, in all his two-piece suit glory. Seriously, why was he still wearing that? He stopped mid sentence when he saw who was at the door. “Spencer? What the hell are you doing here, I’m expecting… someone….”

Shawn ignored Lassiter and the look of realization donning his face. “You know, you could’ve just asked if you wanted to snuggle up with me. Not sure why you had to go around this way.” He put on his award winning smile that always made the ladies — and sometimes the guys — swoon.

It had… some effect on Lassiter. It at least made his cheeks go bright red. “No. No no no no no. No way-”

“Wow, I feel so cherished right now Lassie.”

Lassiter’s mouth opened and closed, searching for the right words to say. “Since when do you work for-”

“Since last week. Cases weren’t coming in and Gus and I were running out of money. I saw the ad and went ‘Hey! That’s a job I haven’t done yet!’”

“Doesn’t Guster have an actual job?”

“Yeah? What does that have to do with anything?” Sure, Gus had him claimed on his taxes. But he didn’t rely on him for everything. He used the money they earned on cases to pay for not only part of the rent on the psych office, but also to pay for the rent at his apartment. Or at least, the apartment he was currently living in.

“Well, I can’t have you as my touch-therapist, so you can kindly turn around and pretend this never happened.”

“Okay, ouch.” Lassiter went to close the door, but Shawn quickly stuck his foot in between, jamming it open.

“Spencer, get your foot out of my door!”

Shawn didn’t do that. He continued, “But! But the way I see it, you either kick me out and get assigned with a random stranger. Or, you could let me in and we cuddle for the allotted 30 minutes you’re paying for.”

The door stopped pushing against his foot and was opened once more. Shawn could see the gears turning in Lassiter’s head. On the one hand, Lassiter didn’t look like he wanted to snuggle up to his rival — harsh — but on the other he also didn’t seem too keen on meeting with a stranger. He knew how this worked. Although Shawn had the advantage of knowing the detective, Lassiter was painfully easy to read.

Finally, he gave in. “Take your shoes off, I don’t want you tracking dirt inside.”

As soon as Lassiter’s back was turned, Shawn pumped his fist.

First impression of Lassiter’s house was about the same as his impression of the outside. Extremely tidy, very minimalist. A painting of a gun sprouting roses hung up on the wall caught his eye. Shawn couldn’t help the grin. That painting was so Lassie.

“So.” Shawn averted his eyes from the decor and over to the detective himself, who was sitting awkwardly on the couch. “How… How does this work?”

“I dunno. This is my first session, too.” He didn’t feel too proud admitting that. “But! I have had many a cuddle session with other partners. So this shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“Wait. Partners? Why didn’t you just say girlfriend?”

“Well, just saying ‘girlfriends and boyfriends’ seemed kind of like a mouthful.”

Lassiter didn’t say anything to that, simply nodding thoughtfully.

“Alright. Scooch over, gimme some room.” Shawn moved to push him but was stopped by Lassiter slapping the hands away. Not harshly, but enough to let Shawn know not to do that. He was being paid to cuddle with him, nothing more nothing less.

Slowly, Shawn lowered himself into the cushion next to Lassiter. He was close enough he could feel the detective tense at the contact. This wasn’t going to work. “Okay, look Lassie. I can’t really work my magic with you if you’re gonna sit there all rigid like a stick.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Sarcasm dripped from Lassiter’s words.

“Just- loosen up some man! This is a two-person exchange, both parties have to participate.”

Lassiter grumbled before complying, ever so slightly relaxing his tensed up muscles and leaning just a bit into Shawn’s side.

“There you go, Lassie!”

“Don’t demean me, Spencer.”

“I wasn’t! I wasn’t.” Shawn had an idea. Gently, he raised his right arm up and over Lassiter’s shoulder to bring him closer.

Of course, he tensed up again. But after a moment he settled down once more.

“So. Did you have anything you wanted to do?”

Lassiter looked over at Shawn, confused. “What do you mean? I’m paying you to… to uhm…”

“Cuddle. You can say cuddle, Lassie.”

“Mmm yeah, that. I’m not paying you to do anything else.”

Shawn snorted. “What, you thought we were just going to sit here, doing absolutely nothing but snuggle?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

Shawn could only look at Lassiter incredulously. He was being serious. Dead serious. “Wow. Uhm, okay. Hang on, gimme a sec.”

“A- To do what?”

“Trying to think of something to talk about. I am not going to be sitting here in silence. That’s torture.” He sat for a moment longer, searching for a topic he and Lassiter could both relate to. What would that even be? So far, all Shawn knew about the detective was that he liked his job just a little too much to be considered normal, along with a love for firearms. Two things that he didn’t exactly feel like talking about.

Wait, actually…

“So, remember when Gus and I went down to Camp Tikihama?”

Lassiter furrowed his eyebrows. “Yeah, didn’t you have to call O’Hara because there was a serial killer? That happened yesterday, of course I remember it.”

Shawn smiled to himself. Perfect. He had something to talk about now. “Well…”

———

Light streamed through the Psych office windows as Gus walked in, carrying his case full of experimental medications. Shawn had told him they had finally had a case, and he was on his way over with the file he’d gotten from the chief.

Gus set his case down next to his desk and sat down, opening up his laptop. Might as well check his emails while he was waiting for Shawn. The fake psychic was notorious for being later than he said he would be. Unless that thing included food. Shawn would always make an exception for food.

But he found himself unable to stop looking over at his friend’s desk. The clutter was really getting to him. He hated that Shawn couldn’t just pick up after himself. There wasn’t really any point to it, anyways. It just looked messy and made stuff get lost.

He could just… organize it. Not much, only a little bit. Maybe straighten up the newspapers into a neater pile and line up the small toys Shawn kept. Nothing too serious.

So that’s exactly what Gus got up to do. But of course, he was stopped by the sight of a check of all things sitting dejectedly and slightly covered up by a newspaper from last week. One glance at what was written on the check was enough to get Gus to grab his phone and dial his friend’s number. “Shawn, why do you have a check written out to you for ‘Services’?! And why is it from Lassiter?! What services did you do for Lassiter?!”

—————

Notes: ughhhh this was so cute and i had fun writing this.

Ao3 link

[the-gaudiest-of-vpns]

Is there some rule in the Brotherhood AU that says no smut?

[kacievvbbbb]

Don’t know why it just occurred to me that the east blue bring considered the weakest of the blues is probably because it’s been a victim of government propaganda like how gol d Roger be some gold Roger and they wanted to take the D. Out of Luffy’s name after he beat kaido.

[c-nan]

if i stay over the weekend to help on a student film set, i won’t go back to my hometown which will upset my mom (and also cause me mental distress) but if i go home (mom happy, me happy(ish)) i’ll miss out on the opportunity to learn more about working on film sets (somethign i’ll have to do next semester for my own film) and i’ll reinforce in my brain that i’m not capable of doing literally anything and that i’m a fuckifn loser

[eatyourdamnpears]

“elevated ANA levels are usually markers for an autoimmune health condition!”

well, not when the rheumatologist you see is completely invalidating about it and your rheumatology blood panel comes back negative for anything!

[tiredf-o-u-r]

People pleasing is just a desire for control concealed and I’m fine with that and um so quick question how do people like make friends. I don’t want to keep typing it over and over but like that’s really not gonna happen for me. And I’m just still sad about it cause I want to be codependent attached at the hip, or ride or die at least. But it’s not gonna be like that, it can’t anymore. It never works. People never work. They never put in the work for me, at least.

[hoshigray]

Satoru and Suguru having a competition over who can impregnate their sweet shared lover first, please?

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: oh my goodness???....you got my attention.

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto + Gojo x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - canon divergence; implied geto is still a jujutsu tech sorcerer - satosugu taking turns with you - kissing; making out - lotus (geto) + eagle (gojo) positions - breeding kink - scratching - multiple orgasms - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up, of get tf up) - cervix fucking - creampies - clitoral play (swiping) - pet names (angel, baby, my love, pretty girl, princess, sweetheart) - humor - mention of drool + heavy depictions of come/semen.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.1k

“Oooh—Haahh! Ohhh, God, Suguu, y’ feel so good…!”

“You feel good, too, princess...Hgghh! Shit, Y/n—“

“Yo, can you hurry it up? You know I’m not a patient guy, Suguru.”

Gojo sucks his teeth while watching you get it on with Geto. It was one of those nights when they’d come home and surprise you together. Usually, one would be assigned longer shifts or missions (that one mostly being Gojo), and the other would return home to eat dinner and sleep with you. But there would be those days when they’d arrive home in unison and try to do whatever they can to have you enjoy these rare moments with all three of you.

Sometimes, it would be Gojo taking you guys to some delicious café that sells parfaits that you’d probably like or Geto having the idea to have lunch at the park and enjoy the sun together. But, of course, there’d be those days when simply being inside the apartment, talking about each other’s day, watching a random movie, and then snoring while spooning would suffice. Because it doesn’t matter what they choose to do; all three of you being at the same place is always the best!

Tonight, however, was one of those nights where they’d pull you aside, drown you in kisses and gropes, and carry you to the bedroom for a more intimate occasion. For tonight, Geto and Gojo wanted to fuck you in the hopes you’ll be with child. And what better way for the two best friends to go about such an eventful issue than by a competition to see who can fill you up the most? 

Suguru has you propped on his crossed lap, your arms wrapped around his neck, and his hands kneading your asscheeks as you bounce on his cock and wail out his name in pretty notes. This was about the third round of the night, your cunt wet and filled with both Geto’s and Gojo’s cum. The fluids stream down with every jump of your hips from the base of his girth to his balls, the sounds of your union so filthy with the groans and moans that bounce around the bedroom walls. 

Geto sighs and burrows his chin into your shoulder. “Hahhh, oh, stop your crying, Satoru. You finished your turn and didn’t hear me heckle while you and Y/n were doing it.”

The white-haired man grunts with more complaints, to Geto’s dismay. “Yeah, well, I’m not the one who takes longer to finish,” he persists, even if his raven-haired friend frowns. “I don’t want you to be the reason my dick falls asleep.”

“Tch, what you should be worrying about is finishing too quickly when it’s your turn. You act like being faster is better…Heh, maybe you can’t handle Y/n better than I do.”

“You son of a—“

“Hey now,” you’re the one who mediates the growing childish tension between your husbands, turning your face to lock Gojo in a spell with your gorgeous, hooded eyes. “Be nice, Toru; it’s Sugu’s turn now, so you can have me however you want when we’re done here, okay?”

Like a heart-struck fool, pink shades creep into the helix of Gojo’s ears as he happily complies with your request. “Okay, my princess.”

Geto rolls his eyes at his friend’s display; what a total loser. As if he has room to talk because once you turn back to face him and kiss his cheek, his breath hitches. “Come on,” you whisper. “Don’t let him ruin your fun.”

The dark-haired one chuckles before claiming your lips with his, “Wouldn’t dream of it, angel.”

As you two kiss, you rock your hips more to create a steady rhythm on top of Geto. His girth stretches your vagina nicely, and with his pulsing veins, you can feel them rub on the velvety texture of your inner walls. It’s good that the pace is at a respectable tempo, allowing you to feel him at your wits and pleasure truly.

But the best part of this position is how easy it is to stimulate your clitoris. Every time you rock your hips against Geto’s, the bulb rubs against his body and has your frame jolting. It feels so fucking good, having your cunt stuffed with his girth member and graze your walls deliciously while your precious button is being pressed.

The pacing soon goes in sync, his subtle thrusts as you bounce your ass on him while kissing. Your mewls are taken by his hungry lips, sucking on your tongue to evoke more cute noises, your hand coming to the back of his head to massage and grab strands of his onyx hair. He’s so romantic with you and your body, the position making this intimacy so much more personal. Your chasm frequently clamps on his cock when you pull your waist up, making the man below you hiss at the grip.

He breaks the kiss, “Shit, you tighten around me so nicely…”

“Really?” You giggle, laying more kisses on his cheek and ears. It sends shivers down his spine. 

“—Khhh, damn it, I can’t...” Suddenly, Geto thrusts upwards in a faster notion, and you scream to hold on quickly and follow his cadence. “Fuck, you feel too amazing, sweetheart…!” You can’t reply to him appropriately; your only responses are narrowed down to high-pitched whines and squeals. His hands wrap around your back to keep your body close as he chases his climax, his hot face melting with the sweat of your shoulder while he pushes his cock to meet your cervix. “Hmng! Hmmnn, I’m gonna cum, baby…!”

“Ohooo, me too, Sug’ruu, me—Tahhh! Ohhh, Jesus…!” Your clit keeps bumping onto Geto, your nerves getting activated with every rut. Shaky moans leave your puffy lips, and your hand scratches his back at every jab of your delicate cervix. You bring him in for another kiss – this one a lot more rushed and steamy – and your orgasm hits you both from the erratic speed of your hips.

You two sigh heavily into each other’s mouths, your body sinking into Geto’s gentle hold as his cock ejaculates his semen into your throbbing slit. His hands massage your back while his pelvis rolls to grind his dick and have your walls clench onto him more.

With a soft sound, you remove your lips from his, smiling gently while you brush his bangs off to view his left eye. “You love to finish strong, Sugu.”

He chuckles before kissing your nose. “Can’t help it if you drive me crazy, my love—“

“Alright, round’s over!” 

Before Geto knows it, Gojo’s already on the bed, yanking you off his best friend’s lap and laying you down with your back to the sheets. He voices his discontent, trying not to appear too upset. “Excuse you? Can’t let me have a moment?”

“Nope!” He shoves a middle finger to Geto’s face, and the black-headed one almost pops a vessel. “I practically went limp after watching you two for so long. So obverse from the side and let me have my fun.”

“So annoying,” Geto mumbles under his breath, yet the milky-haired one chooses not to listen with a huff and places all his attention on you.

“Now,” Gojo turns to you with half-lidded cerulean eyes, a smile beaming too much that his dimples show up. He spreads your legs to evince your messy chasm; Geto’s come spilling down to the crevice of your butt as he massages your inner thighs. Fuck, so fucking nasty, it had him bite his lip. “You ready for more of me, baby?”

You titter, bringing your legs up your chest and spread to a V-shape. “Yes, Toru, thank you for being patient.”

He snickers while pushing his glans to meet your soapy folds, humming when the excessive come lubes your labia sufficiently for his cock to be inserted. The hug of your walls makes him moan, and you jerk as his left curve scratches the plush itch. “Fuuuuck, so warm and tight for me, baby.” 

His arms support your legs in the air, and the position allows him to initiate with slow thrusts. Your purr at his movements; the curve has you howl with every push, stretching your pussy when he propels himself into you and rubs the upper wall of your vagina. Oh God, feels so fucking good…

You peer to where his dick is plunging into your cunt, silently awing at the mussy display of cum ringing around the base of his shaft and stringing to where your folds are. Holy shit, you chew on your bottom lip and move a hand to finger your clit, silently howling at the swipes you dance around your bud. “OhhhGod, hmmmm, right there…”

Gojo looks down and sees what you’re doing, and he chuckles, “Shit, you enjoying yourself, pretty girl? Hmm?” He ruts into you with sudden haste, and an abrupt hit to your cervix has you almost choking on air. “Like being filled up, huh?”

“Ahhh, y–yesss, I lov—Mmmph!!” He grinds his pelvis down, drilling his length deep inside to scuff your smooth walls. “I love y’r dick so much, Satoruuu…!”

“Awww, look at you playing with yourself,” the view excited him more, increasing his speed to pound into you. You cry out at the poke of your cervix, clamping onto him in response. “Ahhhh, there it is,” he coos while adding more weight onto you, making his rocks precise where he wants to hit. More shrieks fly out your lips, “Wanna be bred so bad, princess? Want me to fill you up again?”

Your head aches, ears ringing from the sloppy sounds of his dick rutting inside you, his balls smack your grundel with every push. “Ahhnn, mmoohhh, ye’sss,” you whisper.

“C’mon, angel, let me hear you.” Gojo places his forehead on your sweaty one, azure eyes examining your expression in a haze. “You want—Nnngh! Fuck…Want me to fuck a baby into you, yeah? Make you a mama? ”

“Yess, ’Toru, yesss!! Give me y’ur babiess, make me all fat and full!!”

“Heh, good, pretty girl; so good for—Khhckk!! Shit, shit, I’m gonna cum…” He brings his lips to yours, moaning to the kiss with you while his hips turn up to a volatile rate. Your whimpers are sucked and drunk by him, your eyebrows furrowed from the cyclical hits to your cervix and rubbing on your silky tunnel.  

Your arms come around to his shoulders, beckoning him to deepen the kiss as your body gets ready for the orgasm that hits you like a train. Trembles climb up your frame, whines muffled, and drool slips out your mouth down to your chin. Your cunt contracts around his length, milking him into his own release and filling you with his essence, adding to the pile that squelches and trickles down to the sheets beneath you. 

Gojo nibbles on your lip as he pumps every last bit of his load into you, his tongue twirling with yours until he removes his face from yours. He smiles, dimples greeting you with disheveled strands of snow-white hair sticking to his forehead. Too distracted by his charm for him to sneak in more harsh thrusts to your aching frame. 

You gasp aloud, “—Ohooo! Satoru, nooo! I’m too sensitive nowww..!!”

“Mmmm, sorry, princess,” an apology with a smile doesn’t match, placing a kiss on your forehead as you wail for him while he ruts into your vulnerable slit. “You just feel too good, can never get enou—Owwww!!”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Witness to the entire thing, Geto smacks Gojo with a house slipper before pulling him off you and throwing him to the side. The blue-eyed man looks at the other with an annoyed face. “I should be asking you the same thing, you psycho; what’s with the assault!?”

“Did you forget? Your turn is up,” indigo eyes narrow with a dark glint. “So why are you still moving?”

“Oh, quit yapping, giant earlobes! Can’t a guy squeeze in a few more before I get off…Or what, you scared I’d make them pregnant first? Your frail soldiers can’t compete with mine, is that it?” 

“Hah, you tell me, blue-eyed snowflake; you’re the one still trying to fuck into them like you’re afraid your load isn’t enough. Poor guy; can’t be a sore loser too early, now.”

“Choke on my dick!”

“You first.”

The two bicker back and forth while you observe, unable to find the right cue to intervene as you’re still in a daze. You sit on your side, feeling the liquids inside you exit your frame and slide down your thighs.

As they fight, you remember that you had forgotten to tell them that you took a birth control pill earlier today after they texted about returning home together. It wasn’t until after dinner that they said they wanted to try and fuck and fill you to the brim, practically dragging you to the room before you could utter a word to them about the contraceptive.

…Oh well, surely they don’t mean to have a baby right this moment. Plus, there will be other times! So, for now, you watch your husbands argue before you while shaking your head with a smile.

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.

[circusclownproductions]

seeing a lot of videos that are like “I didn’t know babies couldn’t have water” so here’s an incomplete list of things you need to know before having a baby

- the obvious, they can’t have water bc milk is incredibly high in water already so excess water leads to over hydration

- babies cannot have honey until 1

- if ur breastfeeding your kid and saving excess milk, make sure you label what you pumped in the morning vs at night bc your body produces different melatonin levels throughout the day and giving your baby daytime milk at night can make them more alert and fuck up their sleep schedule

- idk why ppl keep saying this but swaddling your babies or getting them those baby straight jacket things is not abuse. It chills them out cuz it reminds them of the womb

- babies have a dandruff like buildup on their head called cradle cap, and it’s very easy to deal with and remove with just some baby shampoo, a gentle scrub brush (MADE FOR BABIES!!) and a comb. It does need to be removed tho cuz it can be very painful after a while. This can also continue to happen late into toddlerhood it’s normal

- you have to clean out the creases of your baby’s skin and hands and feet they WILL collect dust😭😭

- you cannot bathe your baby until their umbilical cord naturally falls off. Use a warm damp rag until then

- tummy time is actually very important

- your baby might have a misshapen head at first (not all the time but sometimes) this will either sort itself out or they’ll need a corrective helmet ask your doctor

- I wouldn’t recommend having your baby leave the house very much until they’re at least 6 months old, especially if they’re born near cold and flu season cuz the common cold can kill a newborn

- you’re not an awful horrible person for having postpartum depression and it’s always a million times better to let your baby cry a few minutes longer than normal while you regain your composure than to freak out and give ur kid shaken baby syndrome

- you’re not an awful horrible person for giving your baby formula milk either

- don’t put shoes on your baby it’ll compromise their toe box and balance

- babies put every single thing in their mouths

- the easiest way to burp a baby is to hold them straight up (spine straight) and hold their head a bit higher

- always support their head they barely have necks

- if your baby fights away food, fights tummy time, vomits every single time you burp them, is gaining or losing an unreasonable amount of weight at a time, wheezes after eating, or goes red after eating, chances are they’re probably allergic to the type of milk they’re eating (again ask a doctor but these are just some signs it’s not just colic)

- they will wobble a lot when learning to do things but you gotta fight the urge to help them every single time cuz they gotta learn

- they’re not always spitting out baby food cuz they don’t like it they just don’t know how to eat. Like they don’t know how to push food down they only know how to stick their tongue out so be patient

- babies craniums are broken up into three parts at first that later fuse together, this is to help make birthing easier but it results in a small EXTREMELY sensitive spot in the top of their head that has no protection. This puts their brain at a high risk. Always protect their soft spot

- read to your baby!! Get cute bright colorful sensory books with sight words and read them to your baby it makes such a huge difference in their educational growth and will help them acquire a love for reading early on. And talk to them never shut up just say whatever comes to mind all the time this will strengthen their vocabulary growth also.

- babies poop like a lot. A lot. an unreasonable amount. Bring back up clothes and more diapers than you think

- no pillows or stuffies in the crib and only use a muslin blanket unless it’s especially cold to prevent suffocation

- babies kick reflexively until they’re out of their newborn scrunch (they stay womb shaped for a while) and if your baby is crying and pushing at the swaddle try letting them flail around for a minute

- consoling your baby is not spoiling them ! They need comfort and they will learn to self soothe on their own

- singing lullabies actually works, they can recognize your voice a consistent place of comfort from the womb and the cadence of lullabies is literally engineered to create a calm headspace

- for the love of god do not get boring ass beige toys. Colors are important for their neurological development

- babies are very responsive to praise from a young age so be as supportive of them as you can

- babies get constipated a lot and you have to do like tummy massages to help ease their pain the easiest way is to lay them on their backs and hold one foot in each hand, kick their feet like bicycles, scrunch up, and then stretch their legs out

- holding them on your hip too much will not cause bow legged-ness if your baby is bow legged that was always gonna happen

- they drool so so much and you have to get bibs for them so they don’t get chest eczema

- don’t use scented products on their skin cuz their skin is sooo much thinner than ours

- when your baby first starts sitting on their own never walk away from them without setting up a nest of pillows and blankets around them. Even minor head trauma can mess them up sometimes

- this one is kinda morbid and scary but sometimes babies just die out of nowhere and it’s no one’s fault or anything it’s called sudden infantile death syndrome(SIDS) and it’s about 1.3k deaths on average per year in America so not super common but still very real. 90% of these deaths happen during the first four months however edit: apparently it’s bc of an enzyme deficiency which at the very least you can take steps to try and prevent

- smoking and drinking during pregnancy WILL affect your baby and your breast milk and also might contribute to SIDS cases

- babies sometimes have a big red mark on them somewhere called a stork bite immediately after birth but typically it goes away

- babies can’t see very well for a while after birth and they’re VERY wobbly so they’ll typically bonk their head into your chest and face a lot while trying to support themselves

- female babies might have smth similar to a period the first few days after birth, this is because of the hormone transfer that happens during the birthing process and the days leading up to it

- male babies get random erections for the first few days after birth(hormone transfer again) literally do not be weird about this it’s a baby

- things like weaning your baby onto solid foods, potty training, weaning off pacifiers etc, can actually be directed by the baby and will happen naturally will minimal guidance from the parent(some guidance is still necessary) although I would do individual research into baby led weaning for food to prevent choking

- get those chewy feeding pouches to help with weaning

- the most random things will scare the hell out of your baby don’t take it personal 😭

- baby carriers are life savers (tulas are one of my favorites)

- once babies hit toddlerhood they’re tougher than you think, and a lot of their reaction is based on YOURS. they’re always going to be looking to you for how to react to a situation. Remain calm and if they’re ok they’ll calm down but if they’re genuinely hurt they’ll keep crying

- babies will most likely get ridiculously attached to an inanimate object and you have to keep this thing intact at all costs until they’re old enough to abandon it or they will throw a FIT. I got a lemur plushie from a zoo once and every single one of the kids has bonded their soul with it until about 6 years old and once a month I have to stitch him back up

- don’t compare yourself to other parents. Maybe your kid isnt getting grass fed wild caught north Atlantic cheerios but at least they’re fed. If your kid is alive and healthy and happy you’re doing a good job

- you will need 3 car seats, an infant seat, a grow with me toddler seat, and a booster seat

- getting a good diaper bag is a MUST

- the hair a baby is born with will most likely all fall out or they’ll get a bald spot on the back of their head where they sleep cuz their hair is so fragile and thin but once it grows back it grows back thick

- get like 20 muslin blankets so you always have a backup when the main ones are covered in spit up

- the babies grip IS stronger than yours (keep your hair up and keep pets away best you can)

- your best bet for your teething baby is a pacifier you can put your finger in so you can massage their gums and some chewing toys numbing cream can be dangerous and should be used sparingly

- go ahead and come to terms with the fact you’re gonna have to use a Frida Baby to manually remove snot

- babies can get hair and thread wrapped around their toes and fingers that can cut off their circulation try to make a habit of checking

- don’t hit your kid please it’s nothing but trauma and fucked up coping mechanisms from there pls empathize with your child they’re a person too

- be careful not to pull too hard on their arms and legs(like during play or holding their hand while they walk) and NEVER pick them up by their hands this will very easily cause dislocation

- they might have a little tooth like callous on their lip from their pacifier. This does not hurt them and it will go away but it may hurt during breastfeeding

- breastfeeding will make your boobs different sizes

Yeag that’s all I can think of rn but yk i Will add as I remember stuff ppl are also adding things I forgot in the tags in case you’d like to look thru that as well <3

[mars-ipan]

i know i’ve said it before but we should really and truly be praising crowley’s overall self control. i would not have been so strong

[chronicsymptomsyndrome]

I know its kind of silly to say “don’t feel bad for canceling because of pain, fatigue, etc” because I know guilt is a reflex you can’t easily refrain from. But you can reason with yourself so instead I’ll say this:

Nobody can feel what you’re feeling but you. Nobody knows the severity of what you would be putting yourself through if you were to “tough it out.”

If you do “tough it out,” the purpose for you doing the thing will most likely not be fulfilled anyway. You probably will not be mentally present or engaged. You probably will not have a good time or get much out of it. Etc.

If people really have such a problem with it, thats a huge red flag. Being transparent about your needs and boundaries is a great way to weed people like that out of your life.

If you have any kind of chronic illness or disability, remember that you probably have a very warped judgement of what is “reasonable” to endure in terms of pain, fatigue, burnout, etc.

You didn’t ask for this, you don’t deserve this, there is no reason you should have to bear the weight of it alone. I bet if someone else was in your position, you wouldn’t mind helping accommodate for them?

Low energy days are truly sacred, take them seriously. Please respect your body’s signals. “If you do not choose times to rest, your body will choose for you” or however the saying goes

It is so much pressure to have to deliberate what sacrifices are necessary for proper self care. Give yourself extra credit for having to deal with that stress on top of whatever is putting you in that position in the first place. Thats a lot at once

You are leading by example and showing others that you would never expect them to hurt or overextend themselves for your benefit. Putting yourself first always inspires other to do the same.

Please be proud of yourself for even considering canceling and putting your needs first. That is so strong of you <3

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

hiii!!! maybe a request for reader getting a teeenny bit jealous about all the fans katsuki has after the war… then them realising he has a gf that he lovess way too much to be interested in them :3 <33

hii !! omg you did yo BIG TING with this ask cus i was LITERALLY thinking about writing something about this, im glad you got me to do it tho !! hope yall enjoy :33

it's stupid, it's so stupid. really, it is.

but fuck, you can't help it.

the new first years were definitely endearing and excited to be starting the new year and meeting their seniors who saved the world. hell, you'd even gotten approached by some first years who claimed to be fans of yours. the interactions had given you a slight skip in your step, feeling just a bit giddy. but that giddiness immediately died down when you saw a swarm, a sea of squealing girls chasing after and clinging onto your boyfriend.

epmhasis on your. boyfriend. needless to say you quickly forgot all about your earlier giddiness.

of course, you trusted your katsuki more than anyone. and you knew he wouldn't do anything with any of these girls. it was silly to feel this way, but you just couldn't help feeling a smidge..just a smidge jealous.

your trusted class rep managed to fight off the swarm of freshmen, who were at least extremely apologetic, but your sour mood didn't wash away. not to mention you hearing izuku and the grape head bastard mineta talking about how your katsuki, your boyfriend, could possibly be flustered by the female attention he was getting did not help at all. you'll make sure to apologise to izuku later for the daggers you know he felt you glaring at the back of his head.

later though. and nothing for grape head.

you’re in your dorm room a few hours later, when there’s loud knocking at your door. you jump slightly at the sound, but you only know one person who knocks like this, and lo and behold, there stands your boyfriend when you open the door, looking rather displeased.

he cuts you off before you can get a word in, looking at you strangely “what the fuck are you doing ?”

your brows furrow in confusion “..what do you mean ?” katsuki rolls his eyes at you, shoving past you slightly so he can walk in and make himself comfy on your bed. “katsuki !” you complain.

he only offers you a grunt in response, settling onto your sheets “you’ve been avoiding me.” he states simply. your eyes widen as you splutter.

“wha—no i haven’t !”

“yeah, you have.” he sasses. “you barely even glanced at me all day.” he exhales through his nostrils, squinting at you “look, whatever’s got you pissy let’s just..fuckin’ talk about it okay ? don’t want whatever this is” he says, waving his hands around, repeating the words you often told him before.

his voice is still slightly gruff from having just been to the hospital recently. you appreciate his efforts to be more communicative and talk about your issues with him. it warms your heart but breaks it at the same time seeing as he though you were ignoring him without having realized it.

you sigh, getting closer until you’re plopping down into bed next to him. he raises a brow, arms crossed as he waits for you to speak.

“it’s nothing you did. in fact, it’s probably all me..” you mumble the last of your sentence, pouting a bit, you look away “‘m sorry if it seemed like i was ignoring you. i was— i’m just thinking weird things.”

you see him appear in your field of vision as he’d scooted himself closer to see you, for you to see him. “what weird things ?” his voice is slight calm, slight tremble in it from the softness of it. god, you feel stupid.

“i saw you today..”

“okay..? i saw you too.” you scoff, shaking your head. he huffs a slight laugh, nudging your hand with his “c’mon,” he urges.

“i-i saw those first years hanging all over you and i got jealous, okay !” you blurt out. you see his eyes widen as he registers your outburst for a millisecond, you refuse to look at him any longer, that was just too embarrassing. “i know you wouldn’t do something like cheating on me or something but—” you cut yourself off with a groan, huffing to yourself at the memory of the girls trying to get all over your man and asking him for autographs. you swore you heard someone ask for his number too.

you hear katsuki scoff from next to you “yeah, yeah i know, it’s hilarious.” you mutter bitterly, your tirade is cut off by your boyfriend grabbing your shoulders and pressing his lips to yours. the kiss catches you by surprise and you can barely squeal before he’s already deepening it, pushing you onto your pillows. you can’t really remember the last time you got to kiss him like this, and so you let yourself enjoy it. slowly wrapping your arms around shoulders and sighing happily.

the need for air forces you both to pull away, but even while catching his breath katsuki still presses two more kisses onto your lips, pressing his forehead to yours. it’s a habit he has every time he kisses you a little too intensely, it makes your heart beat so hard you’re afraid it’ll fly out of your chest and fly away.

“you’re..the cutest fucking moron i’ve ever met.” he says in between gasps, smirking down at you. you manage to pout up at him.

“mean.” you gasp, chest heaving. you turn your head away but he nudges it back with his own. bumping his head with yours. “hey,” he starts, voice considerably less breathy and softer.

“you’re it for me, you know that.” he utters sincerely. “don’t want no one else but you.”he runs his nose against your cheek, then slowly runs it against your neck, you have to hold back a shiver but he smirks wider at the goosebumps he can feel on your skin.

“those other girls are fucking nothin’. m’all yours.” he mutters, pink dusts his cheeks when he looks up at you seriously “and you’re fuckin’ mine, got me ? ‘ts just us two.”

your heart hammers against your chest, you can feel it in your ears. you can tell from his constant nervous cursing that he is embarrassed about telling you all this, if the blush on his cheeks didn’t already tell you that, but you know he means it. you know he’s trying to reassure you, to tell you that it’s just you and him and he doesn’t need anyone else. not now and not ever.

because he’s all yours, and you’re his.

you nod, because you do get him. “yeah ?” he utters quietly, lips almost pressed to yours fuly as he speaks. you nod again “yeah..” you whisper back. he hums, satisfied with your answer before suddenly pulling you with him so you lay on his chest, making you squeal in surprise .

“but shit, can’t believe you gave me the cold shoulder cus you were jealous..” he snickers. you poke at his hard chest, digging your head into his neck and you groan, he laughs harder. “worried some first year girl was gonna steal me away, huh baby ?”

“har, har, jerk.” you mumble grumpily. he sighs, his hands running up and down your sides to appease you. “ sorry for ignoring you..i was being stupid.”

“yeah you were, but that’s okay. you’re still mine.” he jests, squeezing your hips. you snort and roll your eyes, but tuck your head into his neck again to hide your giddy smile.

you were all his, and he was all yours.