#I know they don’t just lose their hands but they’re face too

[loreandletters]

The most important fact is that Jake’s is fine. He is a-okay with being left in a haunted cemetery. All alone. In the middle of the night. He’s also pretty poor, and since fear is costly, being fine and being is his only option. 

Ghosts? Psha! Try looking at his bills, those are scary. Eyeless ghouls? Good thing it doesn’t cost much to scribble out a talisman or sprinkle some salt. Some wannabe witches trying to summon the devil? Not on his fucking watch! Those candles leave a mess, don’t they know that?

People look down on cleaning, but doesn’t anyone realize that the sanitation department runs the world? Garbage men keep the streets clean, ushers man the stores, and Jake weeds and washes graves. What better honor is there than guarding the deceased from moss and mold? No better money too.

Jake’s lamp flickers as he pulls up another weed. 

“Money, money, money,” Jake sings, forcing himself not to rush, “must be funny, in a rich man’s world.”

The grave is illuminated poorly, the mossed over letters just barely spelling out ‘here lies Jasmine Helma, the sweetest wife a man could ask for.’ It’s also just barely enough to see the half-screaming ghostly face sticking out of the stone. Jake hums patiently, plucking more weeds that are growing at the foot of the grave.

80 bucks an hour, 560 a night, 3,300 a week, 13,00 a month, 160,000 a year. Jake chants, the mantra beating religiously within his cranium. The numbers aren’t exactly accurate, but what rich man counts pennies? (he also heard somewhere that rhymes help ward off misfortune) 80 bucks an hour, 560 a night, 3,300 a week, 13,00 a month, 160,000 a year.

Yeah, he hasn’t been here more than six months, so what? He makes it a year, that’s a six figure salary! All for picking weeds and scrubbing stone (along with the occasional security). He doesn’t need a degree or some nepotism (both of which he doesn’t have), just a spine of steel. Honestly, he doesn’t have that either, but for 160k he does. He’ll fucking sprout wings and fly if they asked him to.

….Jake’s really poor.

Not for long though, he promised himself.

“I’ll kill you!” the ghoulish face shrieked, mouth cranked inhumanly wide, unmoving yet still speaking, “you cheating manwhore! I’ll kill you!”

“I work all night, I work all day, to pay the bills I have to pay,” Jake sings. Ghosts like these forget they’re dead, and only repeat what the last thing they said before they died. It happens the longer they stick around. Their looks fade, their voices lose any recognizable lilt, leaving them with a dragging, wretched voice that is indistinguishable from any other ghost. 

“I’ll kill you! You cheating manwhore! I’ll kill you!”

 “Ain’t that sad?” Jake wasn’t shivering out of fear, he was just cold. Who cared if she was screaming? That wouldn't pay his rent, picking these weeds would. 

“I’ll kill you!”

“And still there never seems to be, a single penny left for me,” Jake fixed his flickering lamp, hand dipping into the bucket of soap and water to fetch the sponge.

“You cheating manwhore!”

“That’s too bad.” Jake began to scrub. He scrubbed around the headstone, around the ghost, and when he was done, everything but that one spot was sparkling clean. The night chilled his drying hands but Jake muscled on. 80 bucks an hour, 560 a night, 3,300 a week, 13,00 a month, 160,000 a year.

“Cleaning again, Jacob dear?”

“If I got me a wealthy man, I wouldn’t have to work at all,” James' voice immediately became louder, singing now ringing across the graveyard, “I’d fool around and have a ball!”

The floating annoyance chuckled, “if that’s a yes to my offer, I’m afraid you’ll have to be more clear.”

It was a month ago now that he’d chased off the amateur witches. They were ambitious kids, and like all kids, stupid. Breaking into a graveyard to play with powers beyond their control, who does that? Without Jake they likely would have died. Unfortunately, they were skilled idiots. Skilled enough to summon something, just not a demon. Jake isn’t a witch so he can’t say what exactly, only that it isn’t one of hells many soldiers. That’s why the thing calls him by a fake name. He may not know much, but he isn’t stupid enough to be giving out his real name to anyone who asks. For some reason It’s stuck in the graveyard, and because Jake’s only job is to clean the graveyard not fix the graveyard, that isn’t his problem. It’s just another thing he needs to ignore.

“Money, money, money, must be funny, in a rich man’s world!” Jake has been singing this song for the past hour, stuck on a couple verses because he doesn’t actually know the whole thing, and he’s too scared right now to think of another. He’s fine though! Don’t lose it now, Jake. Remember, 80 bucks an hour, 160,000 a year - keep your eyes on the prize!

The next grave has a ghoul hiding behind it, the monstrous thing shivering as it tries to take refuge in the shadow of the headstone. They’re relatively harmless so long as you don’t start chasing them. Just to be sure, he has a shitty talisman that he’d haggaled a priest for, though to be honest he probably shouldn’t have bothered. They tend to feed on happier victims. 

It’s their form that unnerves most people; twig like limbs, far too long for the small torso they’re connected to, with muscles all distorted and twisted. Freaks folks out. Luckily, they're more shadow than physical, so he doesn't worry about stepping on them. He begins his process again, picking weeds and trashing rubbish. Must have been the teenagers again. Don’t they have anything better to do with their time?

“Money, money, money,” Jake sings, loud as he can. The not-demon thing trails behind him. 

“Oh Jacob, I could give you money and so much more,” the being takes on a young man's form tonight, chest exposed by an open shirt, the body underneath toned, skin shining in the moonlight as It lays back in the air. Confident in the image It’s made, as if Jake will fall over at the sight alone. “All you have to do is ask.”

Thick manicured hands run across the shapeshifted body in a lustful fashion. Tonight, the face is sharp and beautiful, wet lips and curly hair, with green eyes as sparkling as gems. There’s a pout on his lips. Last shift the thing had taken on a woman, and before that a large wolf, and before that, a cripple - anything to pull his heartstrings. Friendship, romance, companionship - what will it take for Jake to say yes? There’s only one answer, of course.

Money. Money is why he’s here. Best part? This job will get him all his desires without asking him for his soul. He’ll pay off his debts, his rent, his brother's medical bills and he’ll get to be alive to enjoy it. 

So, Jake grits his teeth and bears it. The ghosts, the ghouls, the not-demon; just sings, scrubbing at a leisure pace so that maybe he can get an extra hour on his shift tonight. I mean, c’mon, it’s 80 an hour. Wouldn’t you? 

You've been hired to clean a graveyard every night for 80 bucks an hour. Its haunted. And by god you are going to make that 80 bucks an hour

[madamechrissy]

Take Me Home Tonight

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ Law Professor Satoru Gojo x Student Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Gojo is like 29 here, reader is like 22 or 23. Nothing too crazy. But is Professor/teacher forbidden type love. In this chap- oral sex (fem recieving), pussy slapping, rough sex, dirty talk.

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ this chap- 7k

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ After passing your LSATs, your friends take you out to unwind. You never go out, so you are awkwardly agree, and you end up in the arms of a super hot man named Satoru. You end up screaming Satoru's name as he drops down on his knees before you, only to lose him in the club. All you have is his first name. Two months later, in your Criminal Law class, your heart stops. Your teacher? Professor Gojo. Or as you soon call him, Professor Dickhead. You can't fuck up your law school, and he won't fuck up his career, not just because he makes you wet in class, no, he's a dick. Right? That pout and blue eyes don't wreck you, right? - Lawyer AU

Chapter 14 ♡ ♡ Masterlist ♡ ♡ Playlist

Chapter 15- Final

Five years later

“Papa, Papa! I have a… um… ahjectin!” Comes your four year old daughter Noriko’s cute little voice, as you and Satoru are working at the office. Satoru comes to kneel in front of her, looking at her very seriously, she’s got on a little lawyer jacket that had been tailor made, white hair just like her dad.

“An objection! To me!?” Satoru demands, a hand on his chest, mouth open in a gasp, you watch with a grin, as your two year old daughter Faye sits on your lap, doodling all over a bunch of papers. She looks more like you, but she has Satoru’s swirling blue eyes all day.

“Ajectin! I get to stay up past eight with Aunt Maki, I will give you pwetty picture if I can!” Satoru looks at you now, those glittering blue eyes so full of mirth, and you suppress your own giggle behind your hand.

“A pretty picture, hmm you offer an interesting compromise. I don’t know, we have to ask Mama though.” Your daughter, Noriko smiles. Living up to her name at a young little age, she was as feisty as can be. You giggle again, earning her cute little glare.

“Sorry baby, okay, it better be a beautiful picture, I’ll tell Maki you can stay up an extra hour, but you better be good for her!”

“I will mama!”

“Then it’s a deal, little lawyer.” You say to her, she giggles and runs to you now, her little arms out, you pull her on your other leg with her sister Faye.

“I’ll make it so pretty Mama!” She smacks a little kiss on your cheek, and your heart is just so full it feels like it will burst, every little moment with your family is so beautiful.

“I’ll let you two draw then, I’ve gotta finish some work with dad, okay?” They nod and you scooch their seats up as high as they go, planting kisses on each of their cheeks, walking over to where Gojo is sitting on his desk, watching you all.

“You would have been such a shit defense attorney, glad you stuck with prosecution. You can’t even handle little Noriko?” He teases, you stick out your tongue, shoving at him playfully.

“She’s a beast, Toru, you know this.” He pulls you against him in a hug, arms around your waist, planting a little kiss on your forehead, making you sigh.

“I can’t wait for our date tonight.” He whispers in your ear, making you flush furiously now, you peek back and they’re still happily drawing, as you look back up at Gojo, seeing the lidded gaze he has.

Your hands clutch the lapels of his jacket as your shift, he would comment on it but he can’t around the girls, but his damn face speaks for himself, as you tiptoe and kiss his chin. “Hush!”

“Didn’t say anything.” He smirks, and you roll your eyes at him. “You can’t wait either, huh?”

“Can’t wait.” You whisper back, stealing a little kiss on those lips that always drive you to distraction, before you both get back to finishing up work for the day.

You both opened Gojo Family Law Firm two years ago, and it’s been insanely profitable. Maki and Yuta work for an elite law firm together, and Nanami and Suguru actually recently opened their own firm together with their good friend, Hiruguma. All of you are incredibly close, and tonight Maki is going to watch your girls, so you and Satoru can have a night out.

You are insanely excited, as you look over at your gorgeous husband, wearing that black pinstripe suit and leaned over his desk, the side profile of his face just absolutely perfect. You never, ever get tired of drinking in how beautiful he is, nor does he ever get tired of telling you how beautiful you are.

“Need a picture, Miss Brat?” He teases.

“Miss Brat my ass! I’m long past that.” You nudge him with your shoulder as you pour over paperwork, and then feel his eyes on you, one of his hands coming to sit on your lower back, leaning close.

“You’re always Miss Brat to me.” You shake your head and roll your eyes, kissing his cheek, looking back at your girls now.

“I feel like six years have flown by.”

“I know, time does go fast, as busy as we all are.”

“They’re getting so big already.” You feel choked up, and Satoru now leans to whisper in your ear.

“Want another one in you?” Your heart falters, you gasp and see his snowy lashes are lowered, his husky whisper making your pulse race.

“Satoru!”

“What? One more wouldn’t hurt.” You sigh, shaking your head.

“I think two is fine, I’m just getting my body back!”

“I love your body, always.” You eye his lips now, before you both clear your throats, scooching away as the kids have climbed out of their seats, pointing at you both and giggling.

“Mommy and Daddy smooch.” Noriko says, and Satoru grins now.

“No smooch!” Faye says.

“Smooch!” Satoru says, and you laugh at them, getting a little ‘mwah’ from him now.

“Yay!”

“Yuck!”

“Oh gosh let’s finish up for the day, so we can see Aunt Maki!” You say, and they are bouncing up and down, running around your big joint office now. You sigh, shaking your head. “I have three kids already.”

“I heard that, Missy!” Satoru says with a mock scowl, crossing his arms, but you just smirk right back at him.

“Let me look at that case.” You say softly, peering over now, Satoru had just grown more and more successful, the only case he ever did lose was Naoya on purpose, years ago, thankfully he has been in prison and isn’t leaving. Satoru also was able to exonerate the person he’d falsely put away.

This case he was on now was a very high profile murder case, a star athlete accused of murdering his wife, you and Satoru both have a nagging bad feeling about it, of course you don’t speak in front of the girls about it unless in murmurs. You jot down notes and point to them, he nods, his big hand on your waist as he leans forward, jotting his own down.

“Genius little brat.” He says against your ear.

“I learned from the best.” You say softly, smiling up at him.

“Mama, Papa, look! Ovewuled!” Noriko shouts, waving her cute little arms around and pointing to her sister.

“Overruled!? Why is she overruled?” Satoru demands, crossing his arms and looking so serious as he leans back in his big office chair.

“Because, Papa, she copied my drawing! In-ab-mis…”

“Inadmissible?” You finish, earning her nod, and then her little sister stomps her cute little foot, crossing her arms.

“Nuh- uh. Pwetty picture for Mama!” She says, holding it up now, you laugh softly, standing and bending low to take it.

“Is this Papa?” You ask, and she nods, grinning with her cute little teeth.

“Papa, Papa!” Faye shouts.

“It’s your favorite thing, Mama!” Noriko says.

You choke up then, gulping down emotions but failing, tears forming in your eyes as Satoru bends down, looking at the sketch of him, smiling so big. “This is such a good picture, baby! Why is it overruled, Noriko?” You ask.

“Because mine is better!”

“She gets the competitive streak from you.” You whisper, Satoru smirks now, holding the other picture out and grinning so big.

You have the three people you love most in the world right here with you, your two baby girls and your Toru, you’re not sure if anything could get better. You’re so full of love, especially as you watch the girls hugging each of Satoru’s legs, and he's walking them around as they cling to him, laughing. You put your hand on your chest for a moment, smiling at them.

“Papa, are you excited! Date with Mama!” Noriko says.

“Date Mama!” Faye says, and they point at you.

Satoru grins at you. “I’m very excited for a date with Mama.”

You really can’t wait for tonight.

You’re carrying Faye in one of your arms now, propped up on your hip, as Satoru is carrying in Noriko as you all walk into Maki and Yuta’s place. The girls get ridiculously excited, and Maki bends down holding her arms out, as they wiggle out of both of your hold, leaving you and Satoru laughing as you let them down. They run to her and jump in her arms.

“Maki, Maki!” They exclaim excitedly, Yuta comes out now and they run to him and hug his legs, he smiles and pats their heads affectionately.

“Hey girlies!” He says.

“Uta, Uta!”

“They like you better than us.” You say, pouting, and Maki wiggles her brows and grins deviously.

“I give them anything they want. Come here, I missed you.” Maki hugs you now, then Satoru, who pats her head affectionately, earning her glare.

“Did you miss me too!?” He asks.

“The tiniest bit.” She sticks her tongue out now, and the girls are bouncing around as you hand Maki their toys, tablets, everything basically. So many things Maki shoves them on the couch and shakes her head, taking in your outfit now. “You look so hot, whoo.”

“Thank you Maki.” You say with a blush, you’re dressed up in a slinky little black dress and heels, a pretty diamond necklace and bracelet Satoru bought you decorating your neck and wrists.

“You look so pretty.” Yuta agrees, hugging you then.

“Thank you! Ugh you two are the best for this, really.”

“We don’t mind at all. They’re our nieces you know.” Yuta turns to the girls then, bending down. “What movies are we watching?”

They start shouting then arguing, suddenly it’s like two baby lawyers, Maki snorts and shakes her head. “They’re just like both of you. Little monsters.”

“They’re angels.” Satoru says, as they continue arguing in lawyer form.

“Sure they are. You two, get out, go have fun.” Maki practically shoves you both out the door now, you stop.

“Let me say bye! Gimme kisses babies.” They come running up and you peck kisses all over their cheeks, until Satoru drags you away and Maki shoves you again.

“I said go on! We’re good.” She waves and shuts the door, leaving just you and Satoru, who looks your body up and down hungrily before picking you up, hauling you over his shoulder.

“Toru! Too high!”

“You look so good, I can’t have you getting snatched up.” He smacks your ass now, earning a squeak, before setting you down and sliding into the car, pulling you in with him as Ijichi revs up the engine.

“A date.” You whisper.

“A date. If we make it.” Satoru’s pressing you down, back against the leather seats, you gasp at it, hips shifting, thighs spread around his narrow hips. His hands come to rest on your hips, a little wider than they used to be, but Satoru couldn’t care less, in fact he loves your body more after babies. “This body…”

“Your body.” You whisper back, kissing him over and over, not the sweet kisses you normally share, this is desperate and hungry, this is the first date you’ve had in months since you all have been so busy. You’re both dying for each other, your gasp is loud when his cock brushes you under his slacks, pressing between your thighs. “Ngh…”

“Those moans, I wanna hear them so fucking loud tonight.” He whispers, you giggle then, hips arching up for more, watching his pretty blue eyes dilate, tasting his sweet breath against your lips as your hands slide up his strong chest under his suit jacket, over that crisp white dress shirt.

“I wanna be loud so bad.” Your words undo him, he’s already pressing harder, earning your little whimper, as his lips find purchase against the base of your throat and he’s sucking there. Your hands grip his shoulders tightly, feeling every tension as his hands glide down your thighs.

“Acting like some prim, proper soccer mom when you’re slutty.” He murmurs against your ear, only making you wetter.

“Slutty hmm? That’s you. Soccer dad.”

“Me!? You. Brat.” You giggle, before gasping, and he’s grinding more and more, your slinky dress up your hips as he’s grabbing one of your breasts in his hand now, squishing it over the silky fabric.

“Mnh…” You can’t think of a proper word, Satoru Gojo’s hands, lips and body collide with yours, you’ve never been able to get enough of him, and you never will get enough.

“Can’t wait.” He says then, and you laugh, breathy, pausing him.

“Satoru I’ll be dripping cum all night on the date!”

“Keep it in then.” He says.

“Gravity, Toru.” You retort. He rolls his eyes.

“Hmph, brat.” You’re both laughing now, he’s easing up just a bit, sighing as he looks down at you so lovingly, caressing your cheek with the backs of his fingers so delicately.

“So beautiful.” Satoru murmurs, looking at your pretty face, you light up as he says so, biting your lip and flushing, lashes lowering over your glittering eyes. And god you’re so beautiful, he will never stop saying it, because you should know.

“Thank you, I feel beautiful tonight.” You say, and he scoffs.

“Every night. Beautiful brat.” You’re wriggling under him, soft body so small under his long, lanky one, your soft breasts rising and falling, nipples perked up right against your thin dress.

“I won’t be able to wait if you keep looking at me like that.” You trail your fingers down his jaw now, studying him intensely, your breaths mingling in the car. God Satrou can’t wait to hear you scream his name.

You all still had plenty of sex, but it was different now as parents, it was sneaking in the laundry room and him fucking you over the dryer real quick and fast, a hand clamped to your mouth. It was quiet nights in the bedroom, sometimes interrupted by little knocks on your door when one of the girls had a bad dream, only to be shoved apart by two little girls.

You’d both end up on opposite sides of the bed, laughing and looking at each other, holding hands over them between you and falling asleep.

Satoru would have it no other way though, he loves his daughters so much, and he loves you so much, especially how amazing you are as a mother. He’s so proud of who you’ve become and who you are, a loving wife, an amazing mom, and a badass little attorney. You also still look just as good in those little pencil skirts  as you always did, bossing him around.

“What is it, Toru? So quiet.” You say now, shaking him out of his thoughts. Satoru leans down lower, lips hovering over yours.

“Thinking how proud I am of you.”

“Satoru…” You’re blinking tears now, he laughs softly as one escapes your eye, dripping down to your temple.

“Crybaby.”

“Hush. That means a lot to me, thank you. I am proud of you.” His heart falters, at your words, at your touch, at your eyes reflecting all the love and desire he has for you.

“Of course you are, I’m the best.” He winks and earns your laugh, before slamming his lips down back on yours. “I love you, wife.”

“I love you, husband.” You kiss and kiss and kiss until the car stops, and Satoru sits you up, fixing your hair thoughtfully, as you adjust his tie and collar. “We’re still like two teenagers.”

“I know, you’re almost thirty.”

“You are in your thirties!”

“I’m a Zaddy you know.”

“Oh Jesus.” You smack your head and burst into laughter at him, as Ijichi comes to open your door now.

“Don’t laugh, you’ll be screaming it later.”

“I’m so sorry Ijichi.” You say then, putting a hand on his shoulder, he sighs, shaking his head.

“I get paid enough to ignore most of this.” Ijichi kisses your hand then, and ignores Satoru, earning his glare.

“I don’t get such sweet things!”

“You don’t pay me enough to kiss your hand Mr. Gojo.” Ijichi leaves then, and Satoru scoffs, rolling his blue eyes.

“He likes you better.” He says with a pout, you’re laughing softly, Satoru drags you in the building then, until you all are seated at a beautiful rooftop restaurant next to each other.

The lights are glimmering from the rooftop, lit up city lights decorating the distance along with a million glittering stars. Satoru’s hand is on your thigh as he leans close, forking a bite of yummy cake into your mouth after dinner, you’ve not laughed so much in a while, the both of you genuinely enjoying every moment. Now his hand on your thigh has you…

“You’re wet this easy, huh?” Satoru teases in your ear, you gasp, smacking on his hand now, glaring.

“What!?”

“Mmm, the heat emanating says you are.” He leans back to look at you, while the waitresses are bringing you both more drinks.

“You’re such a conceited, arrogant ass.”

He glares back now. “And you’re a slutty little brat.”

“Am I now?” Your hand finds him under the tablecloth, making him jerk, and you grin. “Taste of your medicine. Hmm, you’re hard already?”

“I’m gonna fuck this attitude out of you all night.” He says now, tilting your chin up, all while the waiters are pouring your wine, not hearing your whispers against the wind thankfully. “You think I will take it easy?”

“I hope you don’t.” You’re blushing as he’s grinning down at you, hand on your thigh pressing firmer, sliding up just so.

“Just wait till we get home, you know we have all night.”

“I know, fuck. I’ll check on them?” You take your phone and text Maki, Satoru pouts. “What!”

“Pay attention to me brat.”

“I am, I just… okay Maki said they’re fine and to just get laid.” You say with a huff, then you both laugh, sipping on your wine now.

“I’ve always loved your friends. Fuck how’d I get so lucky to have you?” He’s cupping your face so carefully, you feel emotions catch in your throat.

“I’m the lucky one, Satoru Gojo.” You brush his hair back gently. “Best father in the damn world, best husband. Best lawyer, best friend, best teacher. You’re everything, you know that?”

“Brat, don’t make me cry.” His lip trembles just so, and your foreheads rest together for a moment. “You’re the best mother, best wife, best everything.”

“You think so, Toru?”

“I know so. You make me so proud every day.” You both choke up then, in your own little world as waiters walk by, as people laugh and eat, but it’s just the two of you, with your love overwhelming your hearts in every way.

“I need you.” You say softly, then Satoru’s raising his hand.

“Check please.”

“Need these clothes off, now.” You whisper as you both stumble into your home soon after, yanking on his tie, unbuttoning his dress shirt with shaky hands, Satoru is turning you then, unzipping your dress.

“Beautiful fucking body.” He says softly, as the dress falls to a silky pool down your ankles.

You feel so beautiful with him.

You feel everything with him, every damn day.

It’s always like the day you met, that eagerness, the need, it never dims does it? Satoru always has you like this, a fucking mess as he’s stripping you completely, turning you to him and holding your face with his huge hands, kissing you deeply over and over. You melt against him, he’s picking you up, thighs wrapped around his narrow hips, as he carries you to the bed you share.

He’s laying you down on it, now just in his boxers, leaving you to study every muscle and line on his perfect body, but he’s soon spreading your thighs, kissing down your breasts, filling you with such intense need you can’t think. He’s sucking your nipples, you’re grinding your hips, pulling him in, gasping at the pleasure you feel while he’s slipping lower and lower.

“Love you, love you.” You whisper, he moans, kissing your tummy gently.

“I love you, fuck I love you. Every bit.” He’s kissing lower and lower now, you’re able to be as loud as you want, and fuck you are loud, head falling back, the dim lights of the room fading to darkness when his breath is on your cunt.

“T-Toru!” Your voice is hoarse as you’re screaming out, Satoru’s latching on to your swollen little clit now, sucking it in his mouth and humming as he watches you under those long white lashes. You’re gushing all over his pretty face, unable to even breathe, the pleasure is so - “So good fuck!”

“Mmm.” Is all you get in response, Satoru’s humming once more until your orgasm hits ridiculous, pussy clenching around nothing, covering his face in your slick as he takes a breath finally.

Your hands entangle in his silky hair, thighs shaking on either side of his head, he presses his fingers into the plush of one, as the other uses two fingers to sink into your little hole. You moan out at how good the stretch is, his tongue slipping up your slit to start drinking up every bit of arousal you have. He’s pumping his fingers up and down, right on that spot, making you damn near delirious.

“S’yummy.” He says, before starting to focus on licking your clit, while using his fingers, so much stimulation you almost wanna pull his head off, but you simultaneously want to drag his mouth closer. Your hands just clutch in his hair instead, as he’s pushing you into another orgasm, you feel everything tensing, about to explode.

“Toru!” You whine out, feeling his damn smirk against your pussy lips as he flicks one more time.

“You love it, don’t you miss brat?” He whispers, and your breath catches in your throat because you’re not sure if you can even speak, his fingers curling up in your soppy entrance. “You love when I eat your slutty pussy out, hmm?” He asks, voice dark and smug, and oh fuck it’s so hot, especially being called that.

You all never talked that way much any more, especially as parents, and the word fucking thrills you. You can’t help the whine that leaves you, nor the wetness that’s dripping down his fingers, loud in the room, you hear it. He’s grinning up at you, those white sharp fucking teeth glinting. Self satisfied, arrogant little shit, that you love more than anything, wrecking your mind.

“I love it, Satoru, I love it so much, it’s too much, I can’t, oh my god, it’s too much, I’m gonna - “ You’re cut off by another orgasm, your body writhing as he takes his mouth away to watch your pussy pulse and spasm hungrily. He’s grinning wider, his fingers still moving as your insides clench around them.

“But I’m not done yet, baby girl, you can take more, can’t you?” He says, and then he’s back at it, tongue flat against your clit, moving in a way that feels so fucking good, in tantalizing circles, and you can feel yourself getting wetter, your walls tightening around his digits. “Can you take three in you, baby?”

“Three…” You haven’t in ages, Satoru has been so easy with you lately, always knowing if he fucked you too good you’d scream out loud. You gasp when he’s shoved another long finger in your pussy, hoarse cry escaping your lips, head slamming back against the pillow. “Mnh!”

“So pretty stretching out f’me, you’re such a good girl.” You’re sobbing damn near as he continues, relentless on devouring your cunt, now kissing your tummy, the little stretch marks from the kids, spreading his hands across the expanse of your waist. “Fuck you’re pretty.”

“Fuck! Satoru, fuck me, please.” You beg now, you’re so full, so fucking full of his hand, craving his cock as he’s pressing it into the matress, pre cum leaking against his boxers, he’s throbbing just devouring you, his pretty wife.

You look down, watching as he licks you, eyes glazed with lust, and your heart stutters at how pretty he is between your thighs, even as your addled mind is sending you off the deep end.

“Pretty.” You whisper, his brilliant blue eyes glinting, pupils shrunk to pinpoints, he leans up, sliding his third finger out now, working you with two.

“Pretty?” He teases, his chin glistening with your arousal, you swipe at it gently, brushing a thumb over his pouty lip.

“You’re pretty.”

“You’re pretty. Especially this pussy, fuck.” Satoru’s buried his face back against you, pussy drunk on your taste, your smell, your everything.

“Fuck me! Please, no more… dick.”

He’s laughing against you, breaths making you jump, his fingers spreading the puffy lips of your sex wide so he can admire how pretty you are there. “Not yet, I’m having fun down here, drinking up my wife.”

Fuck even after years, being called his wife just does something.

“Want your cock so bad please, please.” You’re giving him those eyes, the ones he always melts for, but he’s having too much fun clearly, now pressing your thighs up high, smushing them against your body, tongue sliding inside your velvety walls now, long and curling up just so, making you spasm, literally twitching as you cry out. “Please!”

 “Taste so fucking good.” Satoru smacks your pussy now, making you jolt, eyes rolling back in your head at how good it feels, the sting of his hit. He laughs now, spitting on your already stupidly wet pussy, watching it drip down and groaning. “So fuckin wet, aren’t you?”

“For you.” You whisper, he shuts his eyes in pleasure at those words, you’re trying to yank him up, but he’s just fucking you with his fingers again, scissoring them in and our of your now sloppy cunt, you’re wriggling every which way, it’s too much, all too much.

“Cum again Miss Brat.”

Miss Brat.

Fuck remember years and years ago, you both could not even be together, it was a mess, but you couldn’t stay away, either of you. Your Professor Dickhead is just that, a fiend between your thighs, enjoying every bit of you falling apart, long tongue flicking so fast on your clit it’s ridiculous. Your breasts are heaving, he grips one with his free hand, tweaking a nipple, edging you further.

“I’m gonna cum again, I’m gonna cum again - “ The words are barely out of your mouth when your orgasm crashes into you, your back arching off the bed, your hands pulling on his hair until you think you might rip it out. He’s not letting up, not even a little, and you feel like you’re going to pass out from pleasure.

As you start to come down, Satoru’s movements finally slow, his eyes never leaving yours, and he pulls his fingers out, bringing them up to his mouth to suck them clean. “You taste so good, like heaven, baby.” He says, voice low and sweet, making you feel like you melt, you’re half dazed as he crawls up your body, kissing up your stomach, your chest, until his face is hovering above yours.

You cup his face gently, tears of overstimulation falling down your cheeks. “I need you inside me, please.”

“Yeah baby, do you? So bad you’re crying?” He teases, you just reach down, shoving his boxers over his firm ass, gripping it and arching up, rubbing your slick cunt on his cock, making him gasp.

“Off, all the way off.” You demand with a glare, and he’s eagerly complying, laying back on top of you, cock springing and smacking against your thigh. You eagerly grip it in your soft hand, stroking him up and down, watching his eyes roll back before he kisses you.

You taste yourself on his lips, his tongue dripping with saliva as it slides into your mouth, yours swirls with his, your hands slipping up and down his cock now, feeling it hot and twitching under your touch. You’re touching the tip, leaking so much precum, pulling back to slide it against your tongue, earning his feral growl, his brows low over his eyes now.

“Fuck you know what you’re doing to me. Brat.” He huffs, and you giggle, until he’s shoved his cock all the way inside your tight entrance, you’re screaming out at how good it feels, as he moans, eyes rolling back in his skull. “Oh my god so fuckin tight. How!? Brat and your evil tight pussy.”

You’d laugh but he’s fucking into you insane now, thrusting so deep, shoving your thighs up into a mating press, tip abusing your poor cervix. You’re shattering under him. His gorgeous face blurring in and out of your vision as your gaze swims, Satoru’s nose brushes yours as he studies you so intensely, hands shoving your thighs even further, even wider.

You struggle to take all of him, especially this deep, it’s been so long since he’s fucked you like this, like he’s lost his goddamn mind, making you a mess under him as his hips roll, grinding just so. You have a network of goosebumps everywhere he touches, everywhere his fingers brush, everywhere his lips press. Your cheek, your throat, your face.

Then he’s leaning back, kissing your ankle, your calf, fucking into you slower, but so hard the bed is creaking with every movement, the headboard smacking the wall with the force. He’s moaning, nipping your leg with his teeth when he’s slinging it over his shoulder, hands pinning you to the bed.

“L-love… your… cock, fuck.” You manage, he smirks, rolling his hips again, raising a brow.

“You do love it, don’t you? So slutty. You always wanted your Professor so bad inside you?” You’re gasping now, growing embarrassingly wet, and he notices, chuckling and leaning down, stretching you further.

“Never…. Used… a yardstick… fuck…” You’re laughing until he pulls out now. “No, back in!”

“Turn around, I think you need a lesson.” Satoru bends you over, your ass is in the air, he’s pressing your head into the mattress, lining his cock back up with your slick entrance now.

“Please, teach me. Ah!” Satoru’s shoved back in your cunt now, slamming hard, his pelvis smacking your ass, making it jiggle with each thrust as he smacks your ass cheeks over and over. The pain and pleasure are so blinding, you’re clinging to the sheets under you, crying out at how good it feels, him destroying you.

“Look at you, so pathetic, hmm?”

“Ah!”

“You’re mine. All mine. Mine.” Satoru’s whispering it like a mantra over and over, gripping your hips, thumbs pressing into the dimples of your back, sweat dripping down to your spine, he bends low to lap it up with his tongue.

“Y-yours.” Your voice is a breathy whisper, Satoru’s losing it, and you love when he does, love every filthy word pouring out of his pretty lips while he’s steadily pounding your cunt, fucking so deep you feel him everywhere. “Ngh!”

“That’s it, cum all over my cock, baby. Slutty little brat.”

“F-fuck! Toru!” Your head falls back, hair cascading messy down your back, urging Satoru to pull it, shoving his cock so deep, you’re trembling as your cunt gushes sticky arousal all over his veiny cock, earning his groan. Satoru’s bent over you, pulling your hair, kissing you so deeply, your tongues messy and dripping as you sob into his lips with pleasure.

“That’s it, milking my cock, huh?” He whispers now, pulling you up so you’re balancing on your shaky hands and knees.

“Fuck I missed this.” You whisper back, he moans, nodding, burying his head against your neck.

“You miss screaming like a perfect slut?”

“Yes, fuck yes.”

“Want all this cum in your cunt, huh?”

“Please, please, please.”

“So desperate, so needy.” Satoru’s fucking you harder now, grunting as he feels your walls fluttering around his cock, his balls slapping your overstimulated clit while he fucks you so hard from behind. He’s gripping your hair harder, his hand wrapping your throat now, shoving two fingers deep in your mouth, you suck them eagerly. “Cry for me, pretty. I love how good those tears look.”

“Mnh.” Is all you manage, while Satoru takes you over, fucking you so deep, his fingers shoved into your mouth, so deep your nearly choke, you’re slobbering all over them, spit drooling as your cunt drools on his cock, making him gasp and slow.

“Feel too good, too perfect.” His voice is softer, fingers still in your mouth, other hand wrapping your neck and squeezing, hugging you completely to his hard, lithe body while he’s pounding your pussy. You’re close again, and this time so intense you’re floating, no longer even here. “Perfect cocksleeve for me, huh?”

You nod as he pulls his fingers out, pressing you down into the mattress, his cock kissing your cervix again and again, hand around your throat squeezing as insane blue eyes look into yours. You try to focus, to cling to the blankets as if they’ll tether you, as he’s filling you so full, your tummy pressed into the mattress, cock wrecking anything you have left.

“Satoru! L-love…. You….” You hear his groan, he’s biting your earlobe, squeezing your throat harder, making it go fuzzy, blissful.

“Fucking love you, so much, so much… everything in me… loves you…” You’re crying now, at the love in your heart, at the sensations of your husband wrecking your cunt, wrecking your mind, your soul.

“S’all yours. All of me, all of it. Yours, yours, yours.” You squeak out the words, his hand lifts from your throat, turning your face to him, blue eyes devouring yours, studying your everything, hips rolling so his cock is slamming your spot, and your own eyes flutter in and out of focus, you’re clinging to his forearm, cunt dripping.

“I’m yours, baby girl. Always, always, always.” He’s exhaling now, kissing you again, cupping your jaw so possessive, while he’s taking you over. “Cum with me, let me feel that perfect pussy milk me.”

“Please, cum in me.” You’re gasping when he’s fucking you so deep, burying his cock inside your pussy, over and over, until you feel him throbbing, and his hot white cum pouring into you.

You cum just from that, from the hot sticky white ropes filling your pussy so good, you’re so full of him, as he pumps his hot load into your eager cunt. His whimper in your ear sets you off further, you’re shaking under him as he’s breathing heavily, his cries now being drunk by your mouth. Your cunt is spasming around his cock, milking him for every bit of cum he has, Satoru’s trembling now against you.

You both lay there, kissing, rocking back and forth, he’s gently pumping more and more of his cum inside you, but you’re already pushing so much out, with the force of how much he’s made you cum. You’ve created a slick mess down the blankets, down the bed, gasping and shaking when his teeth bites your neck hard, his hand gripping your hair and pressing into your scalp.

“Oh my god, I fucking love you.” He whispers. You giggle, breathless, looking back at him with swollen lips and mascara trails on your cheeks.

“I love you, fuck… we needed this.” You tease, grinning, he relaxes his hold, laughing now too, so handsome he breaks your heart every time.

“We needed this so bad.” He eases out, exhaling, watching as your fluids and his mix, dripping down the bed. “Oh my god… so sexy.”

“Satoru!” He’s shoved your ass in the air, burying his face against your pussy, lapping his cum out of it. “Satoru!”

“More.” Is all he says, you look back at him, shaking, and your cunt is throbbing all over as you study his pretty face.

“More.” You whisper back, and now your husband is lavishing your oversensitive cunt with his stupidly talented tongue, moaning against you, whispering how much he loves your pussy, you’d almost get jealous but soon you’re sucking his cock, sucking your cum off it.

He’s moaning and whimpering while you do, while you have his rock hard again, drinking his precum up and coating your tongue with him. And when you’re riding his cock with your sore cunt, and he’s gripping your breasts, and your hair is falling to the side of you both, covering you from the world, you know you could go again, again and again.

“So fucking good, baby girl. Taking me so well.” Satoru murmurs, hands on your ass, urging you to ride him more and more.

You’re weak, a mess, sweaty, both of you. But you’re urged on by the desire, the need to be so close to each other, to lose yourselves, and as you’re riding his cock so good, and he’s sucking on your nipples, moaning with his perfect lips, you can’t get enough. Neither of you can get enough, over and over, all goddamn night, until you’re both sore, exhausted, messes.

He’s ready for more, kissing you, still buried inside your pussy and hardening in you, caressing your face, lashes low. “Want another baby?” He whispers, smirking now, and you sigh.

“No!”

“One more?” He pleads, pressing deeper inside your pussy.

“No…” He’s grinning, fucking into your sore cunt, it hurts to take him but you crave it, you need it, need him.

“I’m putting another baby in you, brat.” He whispers against your lips, and your cunt is drooling down his cock, as you’re stretched and fucked beyond your means, he’s not stopping, and you don’t want him to.

You cup his face, eyes flickering down to his body, his abs flexing as he fucks into you. “One more.”

The Next Day

“Oh my god.” Your kids are running circles as you pull up your next case, looking at Satoru with a big grin.

“What is it, Miss Brat?” He asks, tapping his pen on his desk, flipping his page, blue eyes locking on yours.

“My next case… it’s apparently prosecuting Mr. Banks.”

Satoru pauses, then scowls, standing up, leaning forward with his hands on his desk now. “Excuse me!?”

“Sure is. Hmm, maybe I’ll take it. See if I can make the infamous Satoru Gojo lose a case.” You stand too now, leaning over your desk, lips turning up as his do now too.

“Oh yeah, you're challenging me? Psh. Rookie.” You cross your arms now, looking at the girls.

“Who would win, me or Daddy?”

“Mama!” Faye shouts.

“Papa!” Noriko argues now.

You walk to Satoru Gojo then, your husband, the father of your children, your best damn friend in the world. And he’s walking to you, meeting you in the middle of the room, hands in his pockets as he leans down. He brushes your hair behind your ear, smirks down at you, leaning to whisper against your lips, letting you taste his cool breath, inhaling his scent.

“Think you can beat me in any case, Miss Brat?” He asks, sarcastic tone dripping, conceited as fuck and tempting you to know end.

You lean against his lips, as your kids are giggling. “I sure do think I can. In fact, I’ll win.”

But you’ve already won, haven’t you? You have Satoru Gojo, now and always, and now his beautiful family. Who cares if he probably will stomp your ass in a case?

“I already won.” He says, mirroring your thoughts, you kiss him gently, pulling back and then raising a brow.

“So… challenge on, Professor?” You tease.

Satoru grins. “Challenge on, Miss Brat.”

The End

A/N: I am so emotional, I've been writing this one since June and I truly love Professor Dickhead and Miss Brat SO much. They have a huge chunk of my heart. I hope you all enjoyed their end, it seems as if Gojo Family Law firm will be having even more added to it aha. Love you all and see you in the others!!

Taglist: @jjknanamin @chiyokoemilia @marie-is-in-the-dark @seeing-stars-alt @maskedpacific @aldebrana @toffeebrat @antisocialinlw @trishiepo0 @jkslaugh97 @makingtimemine @inthedarkshadows000 @mima0127

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　SAILOR SONG

matt sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N and Matt have a comfy indoor date; baking together.

WARNING: Making out.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by an anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

'I saw her in the rightest way'

The kitchen was an absolute mess, a delightful, chaotic swirl of ingredients strewn across the counters, flour dusting the air, and the aroma of vanilla mixing with the sound of their favorite playlist softly drifting in from the living room. The afternoon light streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the scene as Y/N stood at the counter, carefully measuring flour into a white-ish ceramic bowl. Beside her, Matt was leaning against the counter, his eyes fixed solely on her, watching her with an intensity that could have melted chocolate.

"Okay, so you just, like, throw the flour in, right?" Matt asked, breaking the comfortable silence, reaching for the open bag with the kind of reckless enthusiasm that spelled disaster.

Y/N’s eyes widened, her hands instinctively darting forward to stop him.

"Wait, wait- Matt, no!" But it was too late. A poof of flour erupted like a mini explosion, covering both of them in a soft, powdery cloud.

Matt froze, blinking through the haze, and then burst into laughter, his shoulders shaking.

"Oops." He said with that boyish grin of his, the one that made Y/N’s heart do a little flip every time.

She tried to glare at him but failed miserably, laughter bubbling up as she brushed flour off her cheek.

"You’re such a mess." She teased, shaking her head, her eyes sparkling.

"And yet, here you are teaching me." He shot back, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Guess that says something about you, huh?"

"Yeah." She said with a mock exasperated sigh. "That I’m a hopeless romantic who thinks you can actually learn how to bake."

Matt just grinned, leaning in to steal a quick kiss on her flour-dusted nose, making her scrunch it up adorably in response.

"Alright, lover boy." Y/N said, shaking her head with a smile. "Let’s try not to blow up the kitchen, okay? I need you to grab the sugar next."

"Yes, ma’am." Matt replied, snapping a playful salute before turning to rummage through the cupboard. He managed to grab the sugar jar without spilling anything this time - progress, she thought with a fond smile.

They continued to work side by side, the kitchen filled with the sweet scent of vanilla and sugar. Y/N would occasionally reach out to correct Matt’s technique, her touch light but effective. Every time their hands brushed, Matt would flash her that lopsided grin that always made her cheeks warm. She tried to stay focused, but with him being so close, so effortlessly charming, it was a losing battle.

At some point, they both reached for the vanilla extract at the same time. Their fingers tangled, and Matt shot her a playful look.

"Hey, who’s the baker here?" Y/N teased, nudging him aside with her hip, her laughter light and teasing.

"I don’t know, I don't see them anywhere." He joked, pretending to search around the room, making her roll her eyes though the grin on her lips was impossible to hide.

They kept mixing and measuring, Matt’s enthusiasm both endearing and chaotic. Just when everything seemed to be going smoothly, he made his biggest blunder yet. He grabbed the baking soda and dumped a generous amount into the bowl, not bothering with a measuring spoon.

"Matt, no!" Y/N gasped, her eyes wide with horror. "That’s way too much! You’re going to ruin the batter!"

Matt looked from the bowl to her, then back at the bowl, his eyes comically wide. But instead of panicking, he simply shrugged and started laughing, his laughter so infectious that Y/N’s frustration began to dissolve.

"Matt, I’m serious." She groaned, burying her face in her hands. "This was supposed to be perfect, and now they’re going to taste like-"

"Hey, hey." Matt said softly, reaching out to gently pull her hands away from her face. "Come here, sweetheart. I'm sorry, yeah?"

Before she could protest, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his warm embrace. Y/N sighed, trying to hold onto her annoyance, but the way he was looking at her - with that soft, adoring gaze - made it nearly impossible.

As if the universe was observing them closely, te next song on the queue started playing, and when Matt realized that it was one of their favorite - Sailor Song by Gigi Perez, obviously - his body started swaying gently, bringing her with him.

"What are you doing?" She asked, trying not to smile, her voice softening as her hands found home against his biceps.

"Distracting you." He said, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Is it working?"

Y/N tried to stay annoyed, but the tenderness in his eyes melted her defenses.

"You are so ridiculous." She said, but her words were softened by the smile that tugged at her lips.

"Ridiculously in love with you." He murmured, resting his forehead against hers. "Can you forgive me?"

Y/N’s heart fluttered, and she let out a soft, defeated sigh, leaning into him fully.

"Fine." She whispered, her voice barely audible over the music. "But you’re still fixing the batter."

"Deal." He said with a grin. And before she could pull away, he spun her around in a quick twirl, eliciting a surprised, joyful laugh from her, her apron flowing around her body.

As she came back into his arms, breathless and giddy, her eyes met blue soft ones, shaking her head.

"You really are something else, Mr. Sturniolo."

"And you love me for it." He replied, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. He lingered there, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair, the warmth of her against him.

"Yeah." She said, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I really do."

With the playful moment fading into a comfortable silence, they returned to the counter, side by side once more. Y/N sighed dramatically, surveying the batter that was now slightly too foamy from Matt’s over-enthusiastic addition of baking soda.

"Okay, let’s see if we can salvage this." She said, her voice taking on that determined tone Matt found so adorable.

"How bad did I mess it up?" He asked, a wince escaping his lips.

"Not too bad." Y/N admitted with a small, fond smile. "We can balance it out with a little extra flour and sugar."

"Got it." Matt said, nodding eagerly as he grabbed the bag of flour, waiting for her instructions.

They worked together to fix the batter, Matt actually listening this time, his focus unwavering as Y/N explained what to do. After a few minutes of adjustments, Y/N dipped her finger into the batter for a taste test. Her eyes lit up in pleasant surprise.

"Hey, it’s actually good!" She exclaimed.

Matt’s face broke into a proud grin.

"See? I knew I could fix it." He said smugly.

"Mm-hmm." Y/N hummed, rolling her eyes playfully. "Pretty sure I did most of the fixing."

"But it was my idea to fix it." He countered, leaning in to press his lips against her warm cheek.

"Alright, let’s get these in the oven before you mess up anything else." Y/N said, lifting the tray carefully.

Her fingers were nimble as she adjusted the rack, carefully placing the cupcake tray into the preheated oven.

Matt couldn’t help but stop for a bit and just stare, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, his eyes never leaving her. There was something about watching her work, so effortlessly absorbed in what she loved, that made him feel as though the entire world had slowed to a gentle stop just for them.

It wasn't his fault. He reasoned to himself. It wasn't his fault he found everything she did so endlessly endearing, so worth watching with that starstruck gaze that his brothers teased him about. The way her brows furrowed in concentration, her fingers dusted with flour, her lips pursed slightly as she adjusted the oven dial; it all made his heart swell.

Y/N stood up, wiping her hands on her yellow apron and closing the oven door with a soft clink. She turned to grab the timer, only to notice the way Matt was staring at her, eyes sparkling with that familiar, dazed expression. He looked as if he were lost in a dream, his gaze so soft it made her heart skip a beat.

Feeling the heat rise in her cheeks, she tilted her head slightly and smiled shyly.

"What?" She asked with a soft laugh, setting the timer up. "Do I still have flour on my face?"

Matt didn’t answer right away, his eyes never wavering from hers. It was like he was in some kind of trance, completely mesmerized. After a few seconds, he finally blinked, his lips curling into a soft smile.

"Yeah." He said simply, his voice so low and gentle it made her stomach flip.

Before she could ask where, Matt stepped forward, closing the distance between them in a few strides. His hands found her waist, pulling her close. Y/N’s breath hitched, her eyes widening slightly as he leaned in, his breath warm against her skin.

"Right here." He dipped his head and began to trail soft, lingering kisses along her jaw. His lips brushed tenderly against her skin, and with each kiss, he pulled a soft, breathless giggle from her lips. The sweet sound made him smile against her cheek, his eyes closing as he continued his path to her chin, and then to her cheeks, where he left playful kisses that were so light, they were almost ticklish.

"Matt." She breathed out, half-laughing, half-sighing, her hands coming up to rest on his chest. Her fingers traced slow circles over his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric.

He paused, hovering just above her lips, so close that she could feel the ghost of his breath on her mouth but not quite touching her. His eyes were locked on hers, and there was a playfulness mixed with adoration in them that made her knees feel weak. He knew exactly what he was doing, teasing her like this.

"Matt." She repeated, her voice a whisper now, filled with a hint of impatience.

"Yeah?" He murmured back, the corners of his lips twitching upwards.

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, her lips twitching as she tried to suppress a smile.

"Kiss me properly." She demanded, her voice barely above a whisper.

'Oh, won't you kiss me on the mouth and love me like a sailor?'

He chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving hers as he leaned in just a fraction more, brushing his lips against hers, still not quite giving in. But Y/N, never one to be outdone, closed the remaining distance, pressing her lips to his in a soft, sweet kiss that sent warmth blooming through her chest.

Matt’s arms tightened around her waist, pulling her even closer as their kiss deepened, slow and unhurried, like they had all the time in the world. Y/N’s hands wandered from his chest to his biceps, squeezing slightly at the firmness there, before sliding up to his shoulders and finally into his hair. She tugged gently, earning a soft sigh from him that she could feel warming up her face.

Their lips curved into smiles as they kissed, each touch and movement so full of affection it made Y/N’s heart feel light. Matt blindly started to sway their bodies again, following the slow rhythm of the indie song, his hands exploring the small of her back, fingers spreading wide as if he wanted to memorize every curve.

Y/N sighed into his mouth, her fingers threading through his hair, and for a moment, it was just the two of them, no kitchen, no baking, just the soft, sweet connection between their lips and the feel of each other’s warmth.

But the intimate moment was abruptly interrupted by a sudden, loud DING! from the oven.

The sound made Y/N jump slightly, pulling away from Matt with a startled gasp. Matt couldn’t help but laugh, the joyous sound filling the kitchen as he pressed one last, playful kiss to the tip of her nose.

"Guess that’s our cue." He said, still chuckling as he gave her a quick eskimo kiss, their noses brushing together.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head as she gently pushed him away.

"Goofball." She muttered affectionately, her cheeks still flushed.

Reluctantly pulling away, Matt released her from his embrace, giving her one last, lingering look before letting her turn her attention back to the oven. Y/N leaned down to peer through the glass, her hands resting on her knees as she checked the cupcakes.

Matt watched her from behind, unable to resist the fond smile that tugged at his lips. The sight of her brows knitting together as she inspected their work made his heart swell.

"They look perfect." Y/N announced, turning back to him with a triumphant smile.

"All thanks to you." Matt came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. "I love baking with you." He whispered, his voice soft and sincere.

"Even if you’re terrible at it?" She teased.

"Especially because I’m terrible at it." He replied, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Gives you more reasons to stick around."

'And we can run away to the walls inside your house'

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

[goldfades]

does joe ever sneak the baby into the locker room after a game? i feel like the team would go wild seeing him holding his kid in one arm and a football in the other 😭 dad joe is everything to me i don’t think you understand

it happens after a big win, one of those nights where the crowd’s energy follows him all the way to the locker room, the adrenaline still buzzing in his veins. he showers, changes, and then sneaks out to where you’re waiting in the family lounge with your baby, their tiny Bengals onesie nearly swallowing them whole.

“come on,” he says, grinning as he reaches for the baby. you give him a suspicious look.

“joe... what are you doing?”

“the team wants to say hello,” he says casually, like this isn’t the most chaotic idea he’s ever had. before you can protest, the baby is securely cradled in his arm, and joe is already halfway out the door, motioning for you to follow.

the locker room falls into a stunned silence when he walks in, baby on one hip and a football casually tucked under the other arm. for a moment, it’s just a bunch of grown men staring like they don’t know what to do with themselves. then chaos breaks loose.

“BURROW BROUGHT A BABY?!” someone yells. you think it might be ja’marr, but it’s hard to tell over the sudden uproar of voices and laughter.

“let me see!”

“is that a mini jersey?”

“oh my god, he’s got your eyes, joe!”

“coach is gonna lose it if he finds out about this.”

joe is eating it up, of course. he shifts the football to the bench, so he can adjust the baby into a more comfortable hold, grinning at the attention. “this is my number one fan,” he says, looking down at the baby with the softest expression, his finger lightly tracing his tiny hand.

“that’s our number one fan,” ja’marr corrects, already reaching out to gently take the baby, who blinks up at him with wide, curious eyes. “oh, man. you’re gonna have us all wrapped around your little finger, huh?”

one by one, the guys all take turns fawning over the baby, arguing over who gets to hold them next, their usual post-game banter replaced by coos and goofy grins. someone puts the baby in a helmet that’s way too big, and another snaps a picture of joe holding them up like they’re the lombardi trophy.

by the time you manage to wrangle your little family out of there, your baby has been nicknamed “team mascot,” and joe looks so proud of himself you can’t even be mad.

“you know coach is gonna hear about this, right?” you say as you buckle the baby into their car seat.

joe just shrugs, that same ridiculous grin plastered across his face. “worth it,” he says, leaning over to press a kiss to your cheek and then one to the baby’s forehead. and honestly? you can’t argue with that.

[ktsumu]

18+ NSFT MDNI. POLY MATSUHANA. ALCOHOL.

“What do you mean you don’t like making out?”

Makki looks at you like you’ve betrayed him, on his side of the couch with his half-full beer can in hand. “That’s the best part!”

You shrug. “Dunno. Just never been with the right person, I guess.”

“That’s some bullshit. Guys don’t even know how to kiss a girl right? We used to hunt, you know—“

“Makki sucks at it, too,” Issei chimes, leaning against the other end of the couch with his own can half-empty. He nurses it in one hand, lazily plays with a curl in the other. “Can’t say shit.”

“What the fuck? I’m such a good kisser,”

“You—“

“Wait, why do you know how good or bad he is?” you ask, turning towards Issei on your left.

Over your head, he and Makki share a grin.

“Actually? Forget I asked.”

“Don’t be green, friends kiss all the time.”

“Yeah, sure.”

You slide your back down the couch, crossing your arms over your chest as you focus back on the movie playing on the TV. Your cheeks feel hot.

You’re aware of their legs craned out to rest on the coffee table, a set on either side of you. You’re watching them out of your line of view, but when Makki’s head cranes back over the couch to look at the man to your left, you lose track of them.

They’re bickering, you can tell. Issei keeps breathing out little laughs and Makki’s making obscene hand gestures, shaking the cushions when he tries to reach behind you and smack him.

It’s the fifth time the couch jerks that you groan, pushing yourself back upright to break them up.

“Can you not?” you groan. “I’m trying to finish the movie?”

“I’ll stop when he admits I’m not a shit kisser.”

“Too much tongue, babe.”

“I was drunk!”

You swallow. “You’re probably both good kissers, okay? Settle it at that.”

They quiet after that.

The room gets quiet, save for the wind coming through the window and the movie playing still. There’s a steady picking on fraying cushion behind you, no doubt from Makki’s antsy hand.

“You think we’re both good?” Issei prods.

“Sure. Whatever floats your guys’ boats.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

“How would I know, Issei?”

The three of you— you’re close enough friends by now that silence is rarely awkward, but you’re not dumb. You know what hole you just dug.

Dig your grave and lie in it, or whatever.

“You wanna find out, then?” he asks, maybe a little quieter if you’re paying close attention.

Makki is hot against your other side, leaning ahead to see the both of you as good as he can. You slink back a little into the sofa— you’re in deep literally and metaphorically.

Issei slips his hand up your leg, watching your lips part the second he sets his eyes on yours. It stays on the backside, coming back up to skip over your ass, resting on your back.

His other hand is hot on the side of your face, tilting your chin up so you’re almost touching him.

“Can I show you something?”

You huff a quick breath, and nod even quicker.

Issei takes you whole, it doesn’t feel like just a kiss. It’s not just lips, even though it starts that way— it’s a graze of his teeth against your jaw before he steals your breath away that makes you slump down the couch, an exchange of power that gives your all to him.

He’s languid and slow, tongue taunting yours and his hand dauntingly large on your side. Makki’s slips beneath his and then under your sweater, nails scratching beneath your navel as they span over your skin.

You forget to breathe. He tastes like espresso and a good time. You lose track of whose hands are which. You don’t know anyone but them. You forget any other lips who have ever tasted yours.

When you reach up into his hair, knotting your knuckles in his curls, Makki takes the back of your neck and pulls you back. You’re looking at Issei, but he doesn’t look mad.

He’s smiling. You blink. You’re looking at Makki, now, and he’s smiling too.

“My turn?” He says it like a question. He might be saying it like he’s begging.

Makki moves so he’s just about on top of you, coming from above when you lean your head back to see him from below. He’s quicker than Issei, hard against your teeth and against your thigh, dizzying in how he pushes and pulls, rutting against you like he’s always wanted this.

Issei tugs your leg over his, smoothing his hand up the inside of it, skipping over where you’re too sheepish to say you want it.

It rests on your stomach, fingertips dipping beneath your waistband as Makki groans so low it vibrates in your throat. They’re playing give and take with you, back and forth like magnets, closing in and giving you space again like a corset.

Issei’s hand cups your chest and Makki’s rests on your throat. You’re being swallowed whole, and all you want them to do is spit you up and do it all over again.

Then, the storm breaks, and when you come to, they’re starry-eyed and staring at you.

“What?” you gasp.

You turn your head back and forth, looking between them like you’re checking your blind spots. You still think somethings gonna come out of nowhere and hit you; bring you back to reality.

“Nothing,” Issei shrugs. But, he leans back. “Do you wanna stay overnight? Save you a drive in the dark.”

They surround you. They encapsulate you differently, like smoke and water. You’re hot and all too aware of the things you’d say yes to.

Makki’s fingers burn against your shoulder, dragging the collar of your top down your collarbone as you nod.

Issei grins, cheshire and warm. “Mm, good.”

[dumbass-hyperfixations]

eddie leaves, and buck drives him to the airport. we get a parallel to buck telling him goodbye just like with abby, only that buck feels like this is it this time. he won’t be waiting for eddie because eddie isn’t coming back. and you can see they both have a hard time saying goodbye, but they’re both repressing their feelings like hell. “call me when you land.” “yeah yeah. maybe i’ll get chris to call you too when i see him.” they do a bro hug. pretend they’re not about to cry. eddie says, “right. um. see you around, buck.” and turns to leave.

but buck breaks his composure then, reaches and pulls eddie back into the biggest, tightest bear hug he can manage. because if he doesn’t get to have eddie around anymore, then at least he wants a proper hug. but then he realizes they’re locked in a hug for a moment too long, so he pulls away with a sniff and tries to apologize. but then eddie’s the one grabbing him, because plot twist, he wasn’t done with the hug either, so they embrace again like they don’t want to let go of each other ever again. but then there’s a call for eddie’s flight and he really has to go. so they finally break apart (but you know they hands linger, because losing each other’s touch is one of the worst things right now) and turn to go their separate ways.

cut scene, eddie boards the plane, sits down in his seat with an absolutely miserable look on his face. rubs at his chest absent-mindedly, because there’s a pain there that’s more profound than it should be, but he can’t quite put a finger on where it’s coming from. a middle-aged lady is sitting next to him, misinterprets this for a fear of flying. tries to start a conversation, eddie just nods along politely, until she says,

“you know, you’re really lucky to have that boy waiting for you.”

“hm?”

“oh, forgive me. i happened to see you with your boyfriend when you were saying goodbye. i didn’t mean to pry, but you caught my attention.”

and eddie, who still has a hand to his chest, suddenly freezes. stares into the distance, realization dawning to his face. oh. oh. that’s why it hurts.

[rose24207]

Interrupted Stream

Summary: Lando is streaming and the chat seems to like his girlfriend more than him.

TW: None!

Genre: fluff, humor

A/N: English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

Lando was in the middle of an intense game, his eyes glued to the screen. His chat was alive with their usual chaotic energy, commenting on everything from his questionable aim to his random screams whenever he got ambushed.

“Alright, chat,” he muttered, leaning closer to his mic. “This is it. Big brain plays only. I’m clutching this—wait, WHAT?!”

A sniper shot from across the map ended his game, and he threw his hands up in disbelief. “That’s so unfair! How did he even see me?”

The chat erupted with laughter:

“Lan, you’re blind.”

“Bro, he was RIGHT THERE.”

“Classic Lando meltdown.”

He sighed dramatically, leaning back in his chair. “Chat, you’re supposed to be on my side. You’re supposed to support me. Where’s the loyalty?”

As he rambled on, the door to his office opened, and you walked in holding a mug. “Lando, do you—oh. Are you live?”

He spun around in his chair, a grin spreading across his face. “I am, indeed, live. And now so are you.”

You froze for a second, glancing at the camera. “Oh no,” you said, setting the mug on his desk. “This is why I avoid this room when you’re streaming.”

The chat immediately exploded:

“Y/N REVEAL!”

“WE’VE BEEN BLESSED!”

“OH SHE’S HERE!”

Lando leaned back, hands clasped behind his head. “Chat, look who decided to join us. Everyone say hi to my very lovely girlfriend.”

“Hi, chat,” you said reluctantly, waving. Then you turned to Lando with a suspicious look. “Wait. Why do you look so smug? What did I walk into?”

“I was just showing chat how amazing I am at this game,” he said innocently, gesturing at the screen.

You raised an eyebrow. “Amazing? Didn’t I just hear you screaming about getting sniped?”

The chat went wild again:

“SHE KNOWS!”

“Y/N CALLS HIM OUT!”

“WE LOVE HER ALREADY.”

Lando groaned, putting his head in his hands. “Why are you always on their side?”

“Because they’re right,” you teased, sitting on the arm of his chair. “Let me guess. You ran straight into the open without looking, didn’t you?”

“Excuse me,” he said, pointing at you. “I’m a tactical genius. They just got lucky.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure, babe. Tactical genius. That’s why you once threw a grenade at your own teammate.”

The chat was losing it:

“EXPOSED.”

“LAN, SHE’S TOO GOOD.”

“PLEASE LET HER STREAM INSTEAD.”

Lando groaned, covering his face. “This is cyberbullying. From my own girlfriend.”

“Call it tough love,” you said, smirking. “Besides, you’re the one who left your socks on the kitchen counter this morning, so you deserve it.”

“What does that have to do with anything?!” Lando exclaimed, his cheeks turning red as he glanced at the camera.

“Everything,” you said, standing up. “Alright, I’ll leave you and chat to... whatever this is. Try not to embarrass yourself too much, yeah?”

Lando turned to the camera with a dramatic pout. “Chat, she’s so mean to me. Don’t you feel bad for me?”

The responses were immediate:

“NOPE.”

“WE STAN Y/N.”

“JUST ACCEPT YOUR FATE, LAN.”

Before you could leave, Lando grabbed your hand. “Wait, wait! Before you go, answer one thing.”

You sighed, crossing your arms. “What?”

He turned back to the chat with a grin. “Alright, chat, here’s the question: Who’s better at Mario Kart—me or Y/N?”

You snorted. “Oh, that’s not even a question. I destroy you every time.”

The chat erupted again:

“Y/N SUPREMACY.”

“GET HER ON STREAM!”

“LAN IS FINISHED.”

Lando shook his head, laughing. “Unbelievable. I’m outnumbered in my own stream. You’re supposed to be on my team!”

“I am,” you said with a smile. “But only when you’re actually good at something.”

The mock gasp Lando let out was so over-the-top that you couldn’t help but laugh. You kissed the top of his head. “Good luck, babe. Don’t lose again.”

As you walked out, Lando turned back to the camera, shaking his head. “Chat, this is my life. Constantly roasted, no support, but hey... I think I kinda like it.”

The chat spammed hearts and laughing emojis as Lando launched into his next game, grinning from ear to ear.

Thank your for reading!

[brodygold]

Because He’s Hot

(All characters are 18+)

Jared was never one for sports. Or people in general for that matter. He was a shy introvert among shy introverts. Being gay made things even worse in his small, tight knit community. He was expected to look and act a certain way, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was a true outcast and wanted nothing more than to be left alone. Being in his senior year of high school, he couldn’t wait to move away and never see anyone here again.

Sometimes though, life doesn’t give you what you want. As Jared sat outside at the bus stop on his way home, a stranger came up and sat down next to him. Grumbling to himself, Jared turned to look at him.

“Damn,” he thought. “He’s hot.”

The stranger was everything Jared liked in a guy: tall, athletic (if the shiny gold soccer jersey he had on meant anything), and had a great smile that could light up any room. His smile was so warm and welcoming, Jared almost forget he was going to tell the guy to leave him alone.

“Hey there. Name’s Brody. This bus heading to the soccer field?”

Jared gulped, not remembering how to form words for a second. He normally wasn’t one for talking to strangers, but thought he might as well answer him. Brody was hot after all.

“Oh. Um. Yeah. It does.”

“Great. Thanks man. I was supposed to catch a ride with my teammates but had something come up. You going to the field for tryouts?”

Oh that’s right. Jared remembered the jocks at school mentioning something about that. How some group called the Golden Army was in town holding tryouts to get people to join. There was no way he’d be caught dead around that group though. Right?

“I’m good, thanks. It’s not really my scene.”

“That’s alright bro. What is your scene?”

Jared paused and looked away at that. Well he tried to at least. Brody’s perfect smile was still drawing him in. God, those lips looked so kissable.

“Don’t really have one…” he eventually squeaked out.

“Well, if you want to, we’d love to have you, bro. We could be your scene. You could be a real bro.”

The idea almost made Jared laugh. Him, a bro and a jock? Who knew this handsome man was also funny? Still, a thought creeped into his mind. If he tried out, he could avoid his annoying parents and see this stud even longer.

“Might as well. What do I have to lose?”

Brody clapped Jared on the back. Jared blushed at the contact. “That’s the spirit bro! I got the perfect thing for you actually.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a golden jersey, shimmering in the sunlight. He held it out to Jared, who took it in his hands. It was so soft, almost melting in his hands.

Was he really about to put on this jersey just because some guy told him to?

Yeah, because he’s hot, Jared thought as he put it on over his hoodie.

He felt a tingle as soon as he put it on. He didn’t notice how his hoodie and ripped jeans vanished and turned into a pair of black soccer shorts, leaving him slightly chilly in the crisp fall air. Nor did he notice his skinny arms and legs becoming filled with muscle or his chest becoming two pillow pecs. His shaggy hair become a perfect sporty cut, the color turning from blonde to brown.

He was too busy staring at Brody and his smile. He certainly didn’t notice Brody’s eyes glow bright gold, drawing him in even more.

Jared memories and mannerisms disappeared the more he stared. The quiet, nerdy, outcast of a guy turned into a true social butterfly, hanging out with his bros any chance he got, on or off the field. Even the name Jared felt like a distant memory, being replaced with Jackson, a perfect name for a hot jock.

Brody’s eyes finally stopped their golden glow, a knowing smile on his face.

“You ready for tryouts, Jackson?”

“Hell yeah, Captain bro! Let’s go!”

Jackson felt so pumped for tryouts and knew with Brody by his side, the two could accomplish anything.

Why? Because they’re hot!

[tilly-tittle]

OMG THIS IS SHOCKWAVE????! WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM???

(I have an idea and it should’ve been obvious but I literally could not connect the dots and OMG HE HAD A FACE)

[quietwingsinthesky]

the amount of time i spend thinking about Even carrying the metacrisis doctor’s fob watch is really quite disproportionate to how much ive fleshed out that part of the story in my head

[starkeysbunny]

tears [rafe cameron]

pairing - rafe cameron x reader

summary - rafe was a busy man. but, when his girl knocked on the doors of tannyhill with tears streaming down her cheeks—nothing was more important than her. and he’d fix whatever was bothering her. or whoever. he hated to see his girl cry.

warnings - none rlly, hurt/comfort, protective and attentive rafe

rafe sighed into his phone call when he heard a knock on the door. he stood in his father’s office—which was now his—pacing the room.

“hey, hey man, just hang on a sec, sorry.” he muttered to the potential investor before he put him on hold. he set his phone down on the desk and marched out of the office, curses and mumbles leaving his lips.

“somebody always fuckin’ needs something.” his hand rubs over his buzzed hair as his other hand curls in and out of a fist at his side. “goddamn. probably fuckin’ sarah and her stupid—“

his mumbles come to a halt when he opens the door and sees his girl standing there, tears staining her flushed cheeks. “rafe..” she whispers weakly, her frame shaking as she looks up at him.

“hey, hey, baby.” he says quickly, completely forgetting the phone call waiting for him as all his attention, worry, and concern is shifted to her. “what’s wrong, c’mere.”

his hand reaches for her wrist, pulling her into his chest. she lets out a quiet sob as she buries her face into his chest, stepping inside. he haphazardly pushes the door shut as he keeps her close to his chest and walks them both inside and through the foyer.

he whispers shh’s, and coos at her in his arms as he heads for the living room, sitting them both down. he softly pulls her from his chest, his head dipping down to her level. his hands come to her cheeks, wiping the tears off her soft skin.

“hey, baby, what happened? talk to me.” he says, his eyebrows furrowed with concern.

“i-i-“ she stammers, unable to get words out as she chokes on cries. her breathing quickens, getting close to hyperventilating. when she cries, she goes too fast, losing control of her breathing.

“hey, hey, no. don’t do that. c’mon baby, you know better. breathe, baby, breathe.”

she begins to slow down, her breathing coming back to normal. she keeps her eyes on rafe’s, slowly calming down.

“there ya go. atta’ girl. good job. breathe.” he praises, his head nodding softly as he watches her. once her breathing fully calms, she takes one last deep breath and wipes the last of her tears.

“now, gonna tell me what’s got your pretty little head so worried, hm?” he coos, his head tilting slightly. “what’s bothering you? who do i have to kill, huh?” he jokes with a grin. but to be honest—he probably wasn’t joking.

she sniffles, her eyebrows furrowing. “my uterus.” she whines. “i’m on my period. my cramps hurt like a bitch. and my mom is pissing me off.” she sniffles, stumbling over her words slightly. “and i’m hungry. and you weren’t answering, i know you’re busy. but i just really needed to see you, i’m sorry—“

“hey, hey, it’s okay.” he nods softly. “i’m here, it’s alright. i’m not busy, doesn’t matter.” he says matter-of-factly. he wraps his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. “what do you need? hm? i have that heating pad in my room i bought for you a couple months ago.” he whispers sweetly. “i can make you somethin? buy you stuff? i dunno, what do you need?”

he was willing to do anything, he didn’t care. when his baby cried, he’d move mountains to make her feel better. he’d go to every store in town, run up his credit card, do anything. as long as she got a smile on her face at the end of it.

she nods against his chest, looking up at him. “yeah.. the heating pad. and—and can you make me a grilled cheese? you make em’ so good.” she asks sweetly, her voice gentle and weak.

he smiles softly, looking down at the sweet girl in his arms. “yeah, baby, of course. i don’t know if they’re that good. everytime i make them, you’re usually drunk and it’s three in the morning. that might be why they taste so good.” he jokes.

she shoves his chest playfully. “i don’t care, you can’t fuck up a grilled cheese. please?”

he grins. “yeah, yeah. grilled cheese, heating pad. got it, baby. anything else?” he says thoughtfully, his fingers coming to push strands of hair off from where they stick to her tear strained cheeks.

she shakes her head. “just you.”

he smiles. “okay.” he kisses her forehead. “i’ll be right back, gimmie a few minutes to get all that.” he stands, making sure she’s laid comfortably on the couch. he grabs the blanket from the end of the couch and drapes it over her. his eyes search the living room, landing in the remote, he hands it to her.

he leans down, placing another kiss to her cheek this time. “put on whatever you want. i’ll be back, promise.”

he leaves her at the couch and heads back to the office. he picks up his phone and takes it off hold. “hey, gotta go. somethin’ came up. i’ll give you a call later.” he hung up before the guy could even get a word in.

nothing came before his girl.

[sparrow-and-seed-scrawls]

How to Write Strong Dialogue

(from a writer of ten years)

So you’re back in the writing trenches. You’re staring at your computer, or your phone, or your tablet, or your journal, and trying not to lose your mind. Because what comes after the first quotation mark? Nothing feels good.

Don’t worry, friend. I’m your friendly tumblr writing guide and I’m here to help you climb out of the pit of writing despair.

I’ve created a character specifically for this exercise. His name is Amos Alejandro III, but for now we’ll just call him Amos. He’s a thirty-something construction worker with a cat who hates him, and he’s just found out he has to go on a quest across the world to save his mother’s diner.

1.) Consider the Attitude and Characteristics of Your Character

One of the biggest struggles writers face when writing dialogue is keeping characters’ dialogue “in-character”.

You’re probably thinking, “but Sparrow, I’m the creator! None of the dialogue I write can be out of character because they’re my original characters!”

WRONG. (I’m hitting the very loud ‘incorrect’ buzzer in your head right now).

Yes, you created your characters. But you created them with specific characteristics and attitudes. For example, Amos lives alone, doesn’t enjoy talking too much, and isn’t a very scholarly person. So he’s probably not going to say something like “I suggest that we pursue the path of least resistance for this upcoming quest.” He’d most likely say, “I mean, I think the easiest route is pretty self-explanatory.”

Another example is a six-year-old girl saying, “Hi, Mr. Ice Cream Man, do you have chocolate sundaes?” instead of “Hewwo, Ice Cweam Man— Chocowate Sundaes?”

Please don’t put ‘w’s in the middle of your dialogue unless you have a very good and very specific reason. I will cry.

Yes, the girl is young, but she’s not going to talk like that. Most children know how to ask questions correctly, and the ‘w’ sound, while sometimes found in a young child’s speech, does not need to be written out. Children are human.

So, consider the attitude, characteristics, and age of your character when writing dialogue!

2.) Break Up Dialogue Length

If I’m reading a novel and I see an entire page of dialogue without any breaks, I’m sobbing. You’re not a 17th century author with endless punctuation. You’re in the 21st century and people don’t read in the same way they used to.

Break up your dialogue. Use long sentences. Use one word. Use commas, use paragraph breaks. Show a character throwing a chair out a window in between sentences.

For example:

“So, you’re telling me the only way to save my Ma’s diner is to travel across five different continents, find the only remaining secret receipt card, and bring it back before she goes out of business? She didn’t have any other copies? Do I have to leave my cat behind?”

vs.

Amos ran a hand over his face. “So, you’re telling me the only way to save my Ma’s diner is to travel across five different continents, find the only remaining secret recipe card, and bring it back before she goes out of business?”

He couldn’t believe his luck. That was sarcastic, of course. This was ironically horrible.

“She didn’t have any other copies?” He leaned forward over the table and frowned. “Do I have to leave my cat behind?”

The second version is easier to digest, and I got to add some fun description of thought and action into the scene! Readers get a taste of Amos’ character in the second scene, whereas in the first scene they only got what felt like a million words of dialogue.

3.) Don’t Overuse Dialogue Tags.

DON’T OVERUSE DIALOGUE TAGS. DON’T. DON’T DON’T DON’T.

If you don’t know what a dialogue tag is, it’s a word after a sentence of dialogue that attributes that dialogue to a specific character.

For example:

“Orange juice and chicken ramen are good,” he said.

‘Said’ functions as the dialogue tag in this sentence.

Dialogue tags are good. You don’t want to completely avoid them. (I used to pride myself on how I could write stories without any dialogue tags. Don’t do that.) Readers need to know who’s speaking. But overusing them, or overusing weird or unique tags, should be avoided.

Examples:

“I’m gonna have to close my diner,” Amos’ mother said.

“Why?” Amos growled. “It’s been in the family forever.”

“I’ve lost the secret recipe card, and I can’t keep the diner open without it!” she cried.

“The Bacon Burger Extreme recipe card?” Amos questioned.

“Yes!” Amos’ mother screamed.

“Well, that’s not good,” Amos complained.

vs.

“I’m gonna have to close my diner,” Amos’ mother said, taking her son’s hand and leading him over to one of the old, grease-stained tabletops with the ripped-fabric booths.

Amos simply stared at her as they moved. “Why? It’s been in the family forever.”

“I’ve—” she looked away for a moment, then took in a breath. “I’ve lost the secret recipe card. And I can’t keep the diner open without it.”

“The Bacon Burger Extreme recipe card?”

“Yes!” She still wouldn’t meet his eyes, and her shoulders were shaking. “Yes.”

Amos sat down heavily in the booth. “Well, that’s not good.”

The first scene only gives character names and dialogue tags. There are no actions and no descriptions. The second scene, however, gives these things. It gives the reader descriptions of the diner, the characters’ actions, and attitudes. Overusing dialogue tags gets boring fast, so add interest into your writing!

So! When you’re writing, consider the attitude of your character, vary dialogue length, and don’t overuse dialogue tags.

Now climb out of the pit of writing despair. Pick up your pen or computer. And write some good dialogue!

Best,

Sparrow

[gloomwitchwrites]

141 with a partner who likes to bite

Okay, anon. I'll be honest. When I read this prompt, I immediately thought of "cute aggression." Not sure if that is what you meant or if you meant something else, but that's what I went with. Kinda. There are some more suggestive undertones in a few of these. I had a lot of fun with this one. Thank you so much for sending it in!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, biting, cute aggression, established relationship, teasing, flirting, suggestive themes

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

"Are you teething?” asks John. “Do I need to get you a pacifier?"

John sounds annoyed, but you know that he isn’t. Not really. He happily puts up with your shenanigans.

"Can't help it,” you reply, showing your teeth. “You're too tempting."

The two of you are curled up in bed. He’s trying to read. And you’re trying to annoy him. When John is shirtless and reclined in bed, you have a clear view of his muscles. The temptation is always there, and it’s a pull you can’t resist. The aggression isn’t violent. It’s just overwhelming.

Clearly not liking your answer, John grunts. He tosses his book aside, uncaring of losing his place. One moment you’re next to him, and the next you’re fully on your back, trapped beneath his weight.

Giggling, you playfully shove at him, but there is no intention to escape from him. It’s not like you could break out of his grasp if you tried. He is warm and taut. A weighted blanket. This is what you wanted all along. To be beneath him.

"Stop."

He nips at your throat.

"Fucking."

Then he nips at your shoulder.

"Biting."

Finally, John nips at your upper arm.

"Me."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

"Someone's going to think you're abusing me."

You grimace, even though Kyle’s tone is teasing and not at all upset. His arm and neck are peppered with small teeth marks. Most of them look like random little indents in the skin while others appear to be in the beginnings of bruising.

“I might have used excessive force,” you murmur, thumbing one of the marks.

Sometimes you can’t help yourself. The need to do it is overwhelming. Most times, you shake it off.

Kyle grins. “I like them. They’re little reminders.”

You laugh. “Oh yeah? Reminders of what?”

Kyle leans in, hand sliding up your back to grasp the nape of your neck. Pulling you close, Kyle lowers his voice. It’s all sultry smoothness.

"Of how many times I can make you come,” he coos.

“Kyle!” You lightly smack his chest, face heating as his gaze softens.

He shrugs. “You also just like to bite me.”

“Can’t help it,” you mutter.

“You’re like one of those small dogs,” he teases.

You roll your eyes. “Don’t you dare,” you scold.

“Adorable. Sweet at first glance.”

“Kyle.”

“Mean bite.”

“I swear to God, Kyle.”

“A—”

You place your hand over his mouth.

John "Soap" MacTavish

With Johnny as your bed, you spread yourself over him, head resting against his right pectoral. A rugby game is on. Johnny’s completely focused on the television as the two teams move about the field like small insects.

Johnny’s large, muscled arms are draped over your back, but his left bicep is dangerously close to your face. Every vein is pronounced. Tempting. You want to trace them with your tongue.

A naughty little urge creeps in. Makes itself known. Slithers around your brain to whisper that you should.

What’s one little bite?

It won’t hurt.

Like an itch that needs to be scratched, you lean forward, lightly chomping down on Johnny’s arm. The urge settles, the neurons in your brain content and happy.

Startled, Johnny jerks. Then, he laughs, arms tightening around you.

One second, you’re in full cuteness aggression. The next, Johnny is rolling you over, trapping you beneath him against the couch. Instead of you biting him, it’s Johnny biting you.

You shriek playfully, but he continues to nibble.

“Let me go,” you laugh. Smacking at him does nothing.

“You little goblin,” he mutters, dragging you off the couch and hauling you toward the bedroom, rugby match forgotten.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon wears only a thin, black shirt, leaving his arms bare. Your mouth waters at the sight of the protruding veins and taut muscles. The urge to touch and taste is overwhelming. It burns bright and hot beneath your skin.

"What are you looking at?" asks Simon without looking away from the menu board on the far wall.

“Nothing,” you reply instantly, glancing away like you weren’t thinking about his muscles.

A few seconds pass, and then you slip an arm between his, clinging to Simon. He doesn’t react. The menu board has his full attention. Simon is more worried about filling his stomach.

Turning your face into his arm, the urge to bite down—to unleash the aggression—wells inside you like a tsunami. At first, you resist, reminding yourself that you are in public and this behavior is inappropriate.

But you lose.

Your mouth starts to open, teeth poised to lightly bite.

“My arm isn’t a chew toy,” says Simon out of the corner of his mouth.

"I didn't bite," you mutter.

Simon slips his arm out of your grasp and then drapes it over your shoulders.

He leans in close. "You can bite me all over later."

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

@saoirse06 @unhinged-reader-36 @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307

@itsberrydreemurstuff @cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

@umno-yeah @daemondoll @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez

@ash-tarte @enarien @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[torubeth]

degradation taken too far (mature content 18+)

context/warnings : it’s smut, so kids shoo! hell of a lot of degradation. they’re so mean i hate them. (swearing, words used : slut and slutty) angst to i have no idea what. pls do lmk if i missed any tws. and as always, its not proofread :p gojo ver.

ryomen sukuna ‘is that all you can do? all your yapping earlier about ridin’ me was just talks? answer me’ his sudden shift in demeanour has you feeling really small. sure he is a rude ass prick but not to you. never to you.

‘no- i can take it. i really can ryo’ tears sting at your eyes as you struggle to take in his full length. his hands giving your waist a small squeeze.

‘yeah and that’s all you’ve been saying for the past goddamn fifteen minutes. either you take it like a good girl or i’ll just have to find someone who will. trust me, i can’ he eyes held no remorse of the words he just spewed and that’s when you break.

correction, you shatter.

somewhere in the back of your head you knew he’ll never leave you but him wording it out makes it seem like it’s bound to happen.

and so tears stroll down your cheeks, your hands and legs giving out on you, your body going limp against his and you whisper the same thing over and over again.

‘don’t leave me ryo. i’m sorry. didn’t mean to upset you. i’m so sorry. don’t leave’

quickly his arms wrap around your body protectively, your face between his shoulder blade and neck, wetting the area with fresh batch of tears.

‘i could never leave you. you’re-’ you’re it for me. ‘you’re always the one that keeps me sane. there’s no way i’ll ever leave you. i’m sorry baby, forgive me. i didn’t mean a word of what i said’ he says.

when he didn’t get a response from you ‘look at me’ he whispers. slowly you leave the comfort of his neck and meet his eyes.

‘i didn’t mean it. you could leave me on deathbed and i still wouldn’t mean it’

‘i can’t leave you ryo. i love you way too much’ you sniffle, new tears threatening to spill so you go back to huddle against his neck.

god. he knows you mean it. and that’s what makes him feel like a dickhead.

‘me too, i- i lo-’ he struggles, just as your palm reaches up to cover his mouth.

‘i know ryo, i know’ you whisper, placing your forehead against his, both of you basking in the quietness of the surrounding.

geto suguru ‘fuckin-! ah shit! some insane grip you have on me baby. can’t move if you clench and lock me up like that’ he smirks against your neck.

‘and a bit quiet today ain’t ya? you sure had a lot to say to satoru earlier heh’ he remarks.

‘we were just catching up suguru, nothing-! nothing more’ you whine.

‘catching up you say? does catching up require smiles and touches? do they angel baby?’ he raises his eyebrows.

‘no..’ you avert your eyes away from his.

‘that’s what i thought. so for that, now you pay’ he pulls out suddenly, and pushes all the way back in making you yelp out loud.

‘sugu! ah fuck, i don’t think i can go another round baby. s’too much!’ the pressure was starting to get to you and you were starting to lose stability.

‘hah, i know you can baby, this slutty pussy’s all you’re good for anyway. fuck, doesn’t matter whose it is, as long as you’re filled. am i right?’ his words pierced straight through your heart.

since when did he-?

out of reflex, your hands reach out to touch his face to make sure that this was a dream nightmare. otherwise there’s no way he-

‘don’t touch me with those filthy hands’ he spits but makes no effort to push your hand off.

‘do you really think that’s all i’m good for?’ your voice is soft, filled with pain, and suddenly it’s like he’s broken out of his trance.

what the fuck am i doing, he thought.

slowly he pulls out, all whilst holding your hand against his cheek.

‘absolutely not. no. fuck, did not mean it angel. i promise. i- i don’t know what came over me-! didn’t mean it. please i’m sorry. next time if i ever lose my shit with you, i want you to take the nearest sharp object and plunge it into my chest’ he heaves out a guttural sigh.

‘you were really mean you know..’ you wipe your eyes.

‘i know baby, fuck. i didn’t mean it. i did not mean it. i’ll never do it again princess, ever’ he repeats.

his face lands on your chest, thanking all the gods and the stars out there for giving him another chance.

he’ll never screw up again and that’s a promise.

nanami kento ‘you really couldn’t wait for a few hours? just had to go and think with your cunt, right? have you no- ugh! no shame?’ his thrusts were sloppy as his hands were placed around your hips.

‘kento- slow down baby, i- i don’t think i can last’ you whine, hands clutching at the sheets.

‘no. you asked for this you little slut. so shut. the. fuck. up. and take it!’ each syllable was accompanied by a harsh thrust.

the usually composed, sweet and calm nanami was nowhere to be found. he’s never once called you a ‘slut’ and what caused this? you rubbing him through his pants and riling him up at his office dinner earlier tonight.

he warned you off multiple times but did you listen? no.

‘why are you so quiet now? i thought this is what you wanted’ his voice comes out raspy and cold.

a quiet but audible whimper escaped your lips, making him halt his actions.

slowly he pulled out, gently laying you on your back as your body shook with each sob.

‘sweetheart…? why are you…’

you look up at him, eyes puffy and swolllen ‘i’m sorry kento, it’s just that, you’re never home these days and i missed you so much’ a cry that’s sure to crack his heart leaves your lips.

‘i just wanted you all to myself for tonight but i didn’t mean to be a bother-’

his warm body hovers over yours, ‘you’re never a bother baby. always know that. you will always be at the top of every and any list i make. there’s nothing more i want than coming home to you everyday after work. and i didn’t mean to lash out at you. you didn’t deserve that, i’m sorry’ he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

‘you will always have me sweetheart, never forget that. now let me make it up to you yeah?’

[moonstruckme]

hi my love i’m obsessed with all your works and this is my first request!

poly! marauders and cuteness aggression. like maybe reader coming home a bit tipsy from girls night and just seeing her boys and losing it. grabbing remus’ face and just kissing all over his cheeks, gnawing on james’ biceps and playing with sirius’ hair or tracing his tattoos.

Hi lovely, thank you for requesting!

cw: alcohol

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 589 words

You leave a trail of things down the hallway that you swear you’ll pick up in the morning. Your bag, both shoes, your jacket. There’s no time to put any of it in its proper place, not when you know your boyfriends are all cozy and waiting for you in your bed. Everything else is secondary. 

The moment you get your eyes on them, it’s already too much. Remus is reading while Sirius chats to a nearly-asleep James, and you don’t know whether to scream or hug them or burst into tears. One feels more socially acceptable than the rest. 

A grin spreads over Sirius’ face as you crawl clumsily up the bed, so you go to him first. 

“Hi, baby.” You smear a kiss over his lips, burrowing your hands in his lovely, silken hair. It smells like his conditioner, smokey and heady and just slightly sweet. You wish you could snort it up into your nose like a drug. 

“Hi, baby,” Sirius says back at you, amused. “Did you have a good night?” 

“No,” you lament, though you think you might have enjoyed it at the time. 

Impulsively, you move to Remus, clambering across James to get on your quietest boyfriend’s lap. He’s already set down his book, so there are no barriers to your whims as you take his face between both hands, squishing his cheeks up and kissing them all over. You think you can hear the other boys laughing somewhere beyond your lovesick haze. Remus’ skin grows warmer with each ardent press of your lips. 

“None of you were there,” you go on. It’s impossible to articulate the full extent of this injustice. “You were here, being so lovely and perfect and lovely without me.” 

“That’s lovely twice.” Remus seems to recover somewhat from your surprise attack. His hand comes to rest in the middle of your back, a touch just for touch’s sake. “How much have you had, dove?” 

You make a petulant, whiny sound, burying your face in his neck. There will never be enough of them, your lovely boyfriends. Or maybe it’s that they’re enough, but you just can’t get enough. Regardless. You’re doomed to remain just on the brink of satisfaction. 

“Enough to know that I missed you a lot,” you say pitifully. 

“Awe, babydoll.” James’ laughter is at odds with his compassionate tone. “Come here, m’love.” 

This sounds like a grand idea to you. You wish they’d simply all squish together so you could lay your affections on them one by one, in rounds. 

James puckers his lips as you approach, readying for a kiss, and so is taken entirely aback when you forgo his face entirely. 

“Oh, well,” he says as you suck a hickey on his bicep. “I feel properly objectified.” 

You’re too pleased with yourself to be sorry. He flexes playfully, eliciting a string of giggles from you as you latch on tighter. 

“Do you think she’s been drugged?” you hear Remus ask. 

“Dunno.” James’ tone is fond. His big hand lands on the back of your head. 

“No, I sort of get it,” says Sirius. The mattress dips slightly, and then you feel him plant a wet kiss on your shoulder. “You just need to get it out of your system, yeah, sweetness?” 

You hum in affirmation. You wrap your arms around James’ middle, squeezing tight. 

“I love you so much,” you mumble into his skin. “I’m gonna kill you.” 

Your boyfriend’s frame rumbles with laughter. “Okay, lovie,” he says indulgently. “You go right ahead.”

[allpiesforourown]

Superstar Luo Binghe au. All the directors beg him to be in their movies because his fame will immediately assure success for anything they make. He’s handsome, charming, dedicated, and most of all, extremely talented. He even does his own stunts!! Women love him, and men who say they hate him will still watch his movies so they can figure out how to be more like him. 

The only weird thing about Binghe as an actor is that he refuses to star in romantic films. He won’t kiss anyone, won’t pretend to date someone on screen, won’t even let another actor take over his role for the scenes he doesn’t want to do. His reason? He’s completely loyal to his husband.

Everyone thinks it’s stupid, obviously. You aren’t “cheating” by pretending to love someone else, it’s literally your job! Luo Binghe still refuses and says even he’s not good enough an actor to make anyone believe he could ever love someone other than Yuan-ge.

His fans hate this mysterious Yuan-ge. Because of his (probably insecure and jealous) spouse, all of Binghe’s fangirls cant see him sweep some y/n character off their feet. It’s even worse because they don’t know anything about this guy. Whenever someone asks to see or learn about Binghe’s husband, the star says he’ll never reveal Yuan-ge to the public, because he’s too beautiful and he doesn’t want everyone falling in love with him. 

People kind of run with the idea that obviously this guy must be a total weirdo who Binghe is embarrassed to be seen with. That has to be the explanation, because no matter how perfect someone is, how can they have such a chokehold on THE LUO BINGHE??

Then, one day, years after Luo Binghe’s initial rise to fame…. He goes on a talkshow. With his husband Shen Yuan. 

Obviously EVERYONE tunes in. No one uses TVs anymore bc of the internet, but just for this show, viewer ratings are the highest theyve ever been. Everyone wants to know what the fuss is all about with this guy to have Luo Binghe so down horrible. 

And Shen Yuan isn’t a weirdo. He’s also not some pretty yesman. He makes jokes that make the audience burst into laughter. He’s opinionated, which is really refreshing when every other celebrity stays neutral on every topic to avoid losing fans. He’s polite, but he’s not a pushover. He’s likeable, but he’s not a try-hard about it. Referencing memes makes him an instant hit with the younger generations, and the calm gentle way he talks makes him a hit with the older ones. All of a sudden everyone is going, okay we see why Luo Binghe is obsessed with him. 

Except… while shen yuan was making jokes and charming everyone, Luo Binghe was at his side, pathetically pawing at his husband for attention. The actor keeps whining every two minutes to be reassured yuan-ge still likes him. Whenever Shen Yuan compliments the host, Binghe looks like he’s about to cry. Whenever Luo Binghe jealously wraps his arms around shen Yuan everyone watching just rolls their eyes. Seeing them together people realize… shen yuan is the one that’s out of Luo Binghe’s league.

In just one hour public opinion goes from ‘no one can be worth binghe acting like that for’ to ‘luo binghe is so annoying, let shen yuan talk!!’ 

The next day someone finds shen yuan’s twitter and it blows up. He has his own fan pages now. There’s no pictures of him online other than the footage from the talkshow, so the fan accounts just post that over and over again. Shen yuan retweets a post about him with the caption “i never realized she was holding a plate of corn in this scene” and everyone loses their mind. Everything he says immediately goes viral bc that’s luo binghe’s attic wife.

People start nagging Binghe to post about Shen Yuan bc theyre so attached after his one and only publicized appearance. Binghe is super possessive, but yuan-ge tells him not to worry, so he relents and posts pictures of him and shen yuan on vacation. They’re together, holding hands… but shen yuan’s face and body are blurred out. It’s HORRIFYING. He looks like an eldritch monster bc luo binghe refuses to let anyone look at his yuan-ge in a swim suit, go away you perverts!! His instragram is now just full of pics of shen yuan where his eyes are blacked out so noone else can see how pretty they are. It’s nightmare fuel

Shen Yuan is unfortunately too unbothered to post pictures of himself. Everyone’s tired of Luo Binghe for “hogging shen yuan all to himself” when Shen Yuan is practically an internet celebrity now. 

People go to watch movies and their theatre conversations sound like this:

“Oh, Luo Binghe’s in this one!”

“Who?”

“You know Shen Yuan’s annoying husband?”

“OH THAT GUY..”