#INSTEAD OF SLOWLY SLIDING ACROSS THE SCREEN??

[victim-of-subtraction]

AM I CRAZY OR DID THIS WEEKS EP HAVE ACTUAL ANIMATION?!?!?!??!!

[sturnioz]

⌗︙— giving chris a strip tease ! authors note. ok so this was supposed to be a short drabble but it ended up being 1.1k words.. :/ the fuck (also no part two for this for the time being !!)

"what the hell are you doin'?" chris laughs lightly as you push at his shoulders, forcing him to sit down at the edge of your bed, instead of greeting him with a kiss when he walks through the door after spending a few hours with his brothers.

although he had fun, he wanted nothing more than to come to your place and spend the rest of his day with you in your arms, so he's surprised by your abrupt actions — rather than your usual welcoming kiss.

the smile still lingers on his lips as he curiously watches you walk to your desk, pick up your phone, and scroll for a few seconds before tapping the screen. suddenly, a familiar song starts playing from the portable speaker he had left at your place a few days prior.

chris finds himself humming along, and he drums his fingers against his thighs and nods his head to the beat. but all of his movements come to a slow halt when he sees you pull at the silk robe you're wearing, revealing his favourite set of lingerie beneath. he swallows thickly, his mouth going dry at the sight.

"holy shit..." chris exhales deeply, blinking at you in shock as he struggles to tear his eyes away from your body. "what are you—what are you doin'?"

"nothing," you quip with a teasing smile, allowing your body to move to the rhythm of the music. you watch as he opens and closes his mouth a few times, struggling to use his words.

chris goes to stand up from the bed, but you shake your head, telling him to remain seated. he huffs in response but does as he's told, his hands curling into tight fists on his thighs as he watches you intently.

he eyes you like a hawk, taking in your languid movements with deep breaths. his cock hardens in his jeans and he shifts uncomfortably on the bed, wanting nothing more than to free himself as his fingers graze over his belt buckle, but he stops once again when you give him a look of warning.

chris laughs in annoyance, "are you, like, fuckin' around with me right now?"

you don't answer. instead your fingers reach behind you to unclasp your bra, letting the straps slide down your shoulders before it pools to the floor, your breasts on display.

chris groans, his tongue prodding at his cheek as he tilts his head back with an exasperated sigh and rolls his eyes. he then looks back at you, biting down hard on his bottom lip while shaking his head.

you feel a sense of proudness and excitement seeing him so worked up over your mini performance.

you turn your back to him, swaying your hips side to side as your hook your fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, and you slide them down your legs, revealing yourself bare to your boyfriend.

your lips stretch into a smile when you hear him curse behind you, and you peer your head over your shoulder to see his eyes staring at your ass, his fists twitching to touch you.

you turn back around to face him, and you slowly walk over to him. he leans back, his lips curling into a grin and his eyes shining as you crawl onto his lap and sit yourself down on his thighs.

he looks up at you, his hands coming around to slide over your hips before caressing your ass, pulling you against him but you tut with a shake of your head.

"stop trying to touch me." you tell him, tone light and teasing despite meaning it.

"i want to fuckin' touch you," chris shoots back, craning his neck to ghost his lips over yours to kiss you, but he huffs in disappointment when you pull away from him again. "i have my girl sittin' naked on top of me and i'm supposed to not to touch her? that's fuckin' crazy."

"just be patient."

"i don't have patience."

you roll your eyes, but you take a hold of his hand, bringing it up to your mouth. you litter a few, gentle kisses across his knuckles before pressing his fingers to your lips.

his eyes widen slightly when you push his index and middle finger past your lips and into the warmth of your mouth, swirling your tongue around his fingers while keeping your gaze locked on his.

"hah—fuck," chris pants, laying his fingers flat against your tongue, shuddering when he feels you start to suck. "why are you doin' this to me, ma?"

pulling his spit covered fingers from your lips, you smile at him sweetly, "i'm putting on a show for you."

chris goes to tell you that this is definitely some sort of torture, that all he wants to do is flip you around and have you beneath him to fuck you instead. but his mouth drops open in shock when you slowly take his hand down your body and press his wet fingers to your cunt, hearing you moan so prettily as you ease them inside of you.

chris watches in silence as you fuck yourself on his fingers as if it were his cock, and he resists the urge to move — to rip himself out of your grip and hold you down as he fingers you until your legs give out.

but he's in a trance, watching you do everything yourself, hearing the moans and whines spilling from your lips that he wishes he could kiss.

"oh my god," chris murmurs when he feels your spongy walls clench around him as his fingers brush against the spot that has your body tensing above him. "a'ight. you gotta let me do somethin', ma."

you shake your head, breathless as you answer. "no."

"will you just—" chris cuts himself off with an exhale. he closes his eyes. "please? just let me fuckin' do somethin'. let me kiss you or—"

chris grunts when one harsh movement of your hips grinding on his fingers causes you to rub again his cock, making his eyes shoot open at the pleasure that trickles down his spine.

"you're gonna make me cum in my—shit, ma—"

"you sound so pretty when you beg," you hum softly, breath hitching at the back of your throat as you thrust his fingers deeper inside you, unable to control yourself as your head dips forward, resting your forehead to his.

"i'll beg all you want if you let me do somethin'," chris whispers quietly to you, panting due to the friction against his cock. "i'll beg for you all night, okay? just... just let me make you feel good too. let me touch you."

© sturnioz

[sky-is-the-limit]

P: Neighbour!Gaz x F!Reader

CW: SFW/NSFW, Mirror sex

➳Neighbour!Gaz who would first meet you when you’re stuck on the pavement, surrounded by heavy boxes after the moving truck leaves. You hadn’t thought to call friends or family for help, stupid idea but when you see the most strikingly handsome man jogging back towards the building, all sweaty and built like he was carved from stone, you think about asking him.

Before you can even open your mouth, he’s already offering, his voice smooth and his smile so genuine you can’t help but say yes. He lifts the boxes like they’re nothing, muscles flexing under the sweat and you catch the scent of his cologne, wondering how a man drenched in sweat can still smell so good. When he hears "Flat 3B" he tries to play it cool, but his eyes give it away anyway, especially when he unlocks the door right next to yours.

➳Neighbour!Gaz who would find every excuse to drop by your flat, borrowing sugar or asking if you’ve seen his non-existent cat named Catniss. Every time he knocks, it’s perfectly timed to catch him shirtless after a workout, his body gleaming and muscles tense.

He’d lean against the doorframe, a teasing smirk on his lips as he watches you try not to stare, clearly flustered. You try to keep your cool, but he’s already thinking of all the ways he’d have you in front of a mirror so he can break you down into a shameless mess.

➳Neighbour!Gaz who would take note of your subtle hints, like when your eyes linger a little too long on his lips or when you try to hide that shy smile whenever he’s around. It’s enough to get him thinking of ways to get closer to you, like inviting you over to watch a new film that just came out or needing help with an online order.

He’d sit closer than necessary on the couch, stealing glances at you instead of watching the screen, his attention entirely on the way your body shifts, the way you breathe when you’re near him.

➳Neighbour!Gaz who would not-so-casually invite you over for dinner, using some of his best recipes just to see that smile of yours brighten his entire kitchen. He’d tease you with smart remarks and cheeky compliments, watching how you respond with every word, every laugh.

And when you’d bake him something as a thank you, he’d devour every bite, even if it broke his strict diet because seeing you pleased and knowing he’d done something right was worth every single calorie.

➳Neighbour!Gaz who would get lost in his thoughts sometimes, especially when you’re standing there, asking if he needed anything. All he’d be thinking about is you bent over his counter or laid out on his bed, hands pinned above your head. You’d have to ask again to snap him out of it and he’d clear his throat, quickly making up an excuse for knocking on your door at 10 p.m. Nasty habit.

➳Neighbour!Gaz who would finally take the chance one late evening, showing up at your door with that signature sly smile. "Could use some company.." he'd say and you'd end up once again in his living room, sitting close in front of the TV. Nothing out of the ordinary except his arm that would stretch along the back, fingers casually brushing your shoulder, lingering just a bit too long to be innocent.

Slowly, his hand would drift lower, fingertips grazing your arm before settling on your knee, his thumb tracing lazy circles and when you don’t pull away, his hand would slide up to your thigh, squeezing gently.

The tension would build with every touch and when you finally look at him and say, ''Are you gonna kiss me or what?'' his pupils would widen, that grin no longer on his lips. He’d lean in, breath warm against your skin and whisper, ''You’ve got no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.''

➳Neighbour!Gaz who would put two mirrors in his bedroom, one facing the foot of his bed and another across from the dresser. He’d say that he has them there for 'practicality' but the moment he realized how perfectly they captured every angle of you, he couldn't help but plan for more. He’d be grinning like he won the lottery when he saw how you blushed upon noticing the placements, realizing exactly what he intended to do with them.

➳Neighbour!Gaz who would slide his hands up from your hips, gripping you tightly as he presses his naked chest against your bare back and carefully slide inside you, feeling every inch of his cock as it enters your tight, dripping cunt. "Look at us.." he'd whisper against your ear, low and commanding.

As he thrusts deeper, you’d experience the thick, hard length of him filling you inch by inch, stretching you to accommodate his size. Every centimeter would press against your sensitive walls, the slight resistance melting away as he sinks in and his hand would snake around to massage your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers.

He'd laugh as your mascara runs and your lips part in a messy gasp, saliva dripping down your chin. "Don’t look away." He’d order, his free hand trailing up your throat, keeping you and your gaze in place.

With every thrust, he’d grip you tighter, hips slamming into the soft, sensitive flesh of your ass with a rhythmic force that makes you whimper, your body trembling as he drives you closer and closer to climax. "Look at what you do to me.. What I'm doing to you."

➳Neighbour!Gaz who would then turn you around and hoist you up onto the dresser, his hands strong beneath your thighs, spreading you open as he wraps them around his waist.

He’d watch your expression in the two reflections facing each other before his lips meet yours in a hungry, messy kiss, teeth grazing your bottom lip, pulling it back until you're gasping for air. ''I’ve never seen anyone look so perfect, so fucked out-'' He’d pant, voice breaking with the effort of keeping control. ''Fuck- baby, you’re taking me so well-''

He’d thrust deep and hard, each powerful drive of his hips making your tits bounce with every movement, back muscles flexing with every push inside you. His teeth would scrape your neck, marking up the skin as he moves faster, persistent in his pace, savoring every moan and cry. When you’re both breathless and spent, he'd murmur with a gentle smile, "Think we might need one on the ceiling next, love."

[luveline]

hello miss jade ily! since you’re feeling the marauders right now, may i request something with any of the boys, pre-relationship and too lovestruck to speak? reader has done something innocuous, or she’s literally just standing there, and he can’t not break and smother her?

hello lovely, thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k

modern au 

You let yourself in quietly. Remus can tell without raising his eyes from his laptop that it's you. James would shout hello, Sirius would beeline for the downstairs bathroom. You close the door with care and leave your shoes under the stairs; Remus can picture you turning your head to one side gently, listening for signs of life. 

"James?" you ask.

"Just me," Remus says. 

You come around the doorway, beaming at him like he's the one you were looking for the whole time. "Hey, Remus. Don't suppose you know when James is back? He's going to take me to the garage so they don't rip me off." 

"Uh, no, but– but I could go with you?" he suggests. Remus isn't your boyfriend, but he wishes desperately that he was and he thinks that's a boyfriend's duty to perform, right? "I'd be happy to." 

Your phone dings. You pull it out with a smile. "Oh, it's James," you say, "he's still coming, but he's late. That's fine, I didn't have an appointment or anything. I'd love for you to come if you want, though, baby." 

Remus chokes on nothing, clearing his throat and sitting up to not seem so pathetic. "I'll come." Because baby? Baby?!

"Brilliant. How's you writing?" 

"Uh, it's, you know, happening. Slowly." 

Remus is admittedly much more collected regularly, but your sudden arrival, your smiling, and now your pet name, you've thrown him for a loop. He's doubly thrown when you sit down on the sofa beside him, no polite space, thigh to thigh and close enough to smell the oils in your hair. 

"I'm not looking, I promise," you say. 

Writing is a raw process. Knowing someone else's eyes are on it magnifies the flaws, but he realises with certainty that he doesn't care if you see it, flaws and all. "That's fine. I don't mind so long as it's you." 

"Lucky me," you say. 

You take your phone out. Remus doesn't mean to pry but you're right there, and your phone screen brightness is high. The text thread between you and James is open, your thumbs penning a quick response. 

Hey James, are we still meeting at the house? I'm omw. 2:17PM

yeah of course, remus is there so go have a cup of tea ill be there soon 2:30PM

ok 2:31PM

sorry running late !! Promise I'll be there, have remus make you a scone :) 2:40PM

I like him too much to have him act like my serf, you can buy us both big salted pretzels on the way home to say sorry for wasting his time 2:45PM

I'm sure he's just gutted to spend time with you 2:46PM

Nice one, James, Remus thinks incredulously. That's exactly what Remus needs, more evidence that he fancies you. You don't seem to have noticed either way, swinging a leg over your knee and finishing another text to James. 

I hope not, I love spending time with him 2:48PM

Remus turns to his computer screen, elated and guilty at once. He was not supposed to see that, surely. 

"Your word count is really climbing," you say, tucking your phone away. "A hundred and fifty thousand. I can't imagine writing so much… will you have to cut that down?" 

"Yep. Much more chance of being published if I fit their standard count. It'll need at least forty thousand words shaved off." 

You shake your head. "I can't imagine putting in all that work and then having to put in more work to get rid of it." 

"Think of it like refining, instead," he suggests, his fingertip sliding across the laptop's space bar. "I'm making sure nothing is boring." 

"I doubt it's boring if you're the one writing it." You stand to his surprise and stretch, a slice of your waist appearing as you twist away from him, an audible click emitting from your back as you roll your shoulders. "Can I make a cup of tea, please?" 

You've had a hundred cups of tea in this house. 

"You know you don't have to ask," Remus says. 

"But it's always nice to ask first," you say as you leave. 

He suspects you were talking more to yourself than him as you occasionally do, and he pays little mind to your movements in the kitchen. He has a lot of work to do and not nearly enough time to do it, and editing isn't as simple as cutting away. It's not obvious what needs to go. Remus has to have a deep think. 

He gets distracted. When you return he barely notices, busy rewriting a clunky sentence. It's not until your pinky finger brushes his arm that Remus remembers you're here, emphasis on you, and that he's besotted. 

When he looks up, he doesn't suppose he'll ever forget again. 

You're at his side neatening a plate of biscuits and toasted scones, the very tip of your tongue peaking between your lips in concentration. It's a simple thing, some might even find it unattractive, but you're totally focused on the plate of biscuits, your lovely eyebrows tightly pinched. 

You seem upset, for a moment. 

Then you meet his eye and any trace of unhappiness vanishes. You're smiling again, eyes alight with something he can't name. "I got you a couple of biscuits and stuff, hope that wasn't too forward. You never remember to eat when you're writing." 

"Oh, sweetheart," he says unbidden to himself, hands paused at his laptop, "that's not too forward." 

He sets his laptop aside and stands. There's nothing for it, no hold to bar —Remus steps forward to kiss your cheek and squeeze the top of your arm, the kiss swift and the squeeze less so. 

"Don't set up around me," he continues fondly, "we'll go have tea in the kitchen with the window open. You can tell me about your day, please. I should've asked you earlier." 

"Don't worry, there's nothing important to share," you say, and to Remus' delight, you've visibly flustered. 

His hand slides down the length of your arm to your hand, where he holds your fingers in his palm. "If it's about you, it's important. Mm?" 

You stare down at his chest and laugh softly. "Okay." 

It's a credit to his self restraint that he doesn't kiss you then and there. 

[flemingsfreckles]

Drunk Dial

Synopsis: After a rough night out, you accidentally call your ex-girlfriend to come pick you up, causing unresolved feelings and confessions to be made.

Warning: mentions of alcohol consumption, drunkenness, mention of nonsexual nudity, language, unwanted sexual attention from men

WC: 3.7k

A/N: this was supposed to be like a 1k little fic and then it became this, I’m debating a part 2 if people are interested as well

You try and catch your breath as you pull out your phone, hand shaking as you click though your contacts. Your best friend was out of town, she’d be no help. You debate a few other names, some had kids, you couldn’t wake them at this hour, some you didn’t feel comfortable asking. Until your eyes fell on her name.

You shouldn’t call her. You were supposed to be no contact. But maybe she’d answer. She was in town, as far as you knew, she didn’t have kids, she was a safe person for you. You still shouldn’t call her. Despite knowing you shouldn’t click her name, you do anyway. Letting it ring and ring. As it rings, you receive a text.

Jessie: butt dial?

You respond embarrassingly fast. The ringing stops, you hear the automated voice begin to talk about a voicemail. You end the call and text her back.

You: No

Jessie matches your embarrassing response time, but instead of responding with a text, she calls you back.

“Hello?” She says. As she picks up the phone she’s able to make out the loud music muffled by the sound of the building and the noise of the occasional car on the street.

Your stomach sinks hearing her voice. You had gotten so used to hearing that soft, sweet, voice everyday until you didn’t. Until you went weeks without hearing it. You clear your throat trying to clear your mind. “I’m sorry, I didn’t have anyone else to call.” Your voice breaks slightly.

“What?” You can hear the sleep in her voice. That was the voice that you used to hear in the mornings after your spend the night, the voice you heard after she’d fall asleep cuddled into your side watching a movie. You hear her clear her throat. “What’s going on?”

“Oh my god you’re sleeping, I’m so sorry. I’ll call someone else.” You quickly pull the phone from your ear, you can hear Jessie talking but it’s too late as you hit the button ending the call. Less than a second later Jessie is calling you again.

You stare at her picture looking back at you. It was one you had taken of her on your one year anniversary date. You had taken her for a hike, packing a picnic for the two of you to enjoy with a beautiful view of a waterfall. The photo is her, black baseball cap sitting on top of her curls, smiling at you as she holds out a flower to you. You let it ring, and ring. Until her face disappears.

Jessie: Answer the phone.

Jessie: I’m not kidding.

Her face appears again, you sigh. You didn’t have much of a choice, she was still someone you trusted, you were too far from home to walk, not to mention it was 2am. you slide your thumb slowly across the screen, answering the call.

“Um.”

“Where are you?” Her sleepy voice is gone, instead it’s been replaced with one of concern.

“Outside of Marathon.” It was a bar the two of you frequented while together, which probably didn’t help, memories flashing through your head at every turn when you were inside. The booth the two of you shared the first time you went there. The table you stood at watching as she played darts with another patron, coming back between throws to cuddle into your side. You saw the large table that had been filled with Jessie’s teammates the first time she brought you to meet them. The bathroom stall that the two of you had done some rather inappropriate things in, it was all here, leading you to ordering drink after drink, drowning out your sorrows and the memories.

“What are you doing at a bar at 2 in the morning?”

“I went out Jessie. Which was a mistake, I’m going home now.” You huff, you didn’t want to have to explain to her. You didn’t want to admit that you were trying to move on. You didn’t want to have to admit that you got stood up, that would be embarrassing. You didn’t want to have to explain to her how you spent most of the night trying to reject men who thought they had a chance, one of them not caring for your rejection at the bar, finding you later on the dance floor and grinding himself against your backside, causing you to bolt from the establishment.

You hear loud rustling on the other end of the line. “Okay, I’m going to come get you okay?” There’s more sounds, likely of Jessie moving around but you can’t tell. The sound of keys and a door closing.

“No, Jessie you don’t have to, I can get home.” You stand turning, looking down both directions of the street. You could walk either way. It was a city, it was set up in blocks. Over a few up a few, or up first then over, it didn’t matter.

“No. There’s a reason you called, do not start walking home.” Her voice is stern, you can picture her face, eyebrows scrunched, her lips pulled tight. “Seriously, stay where you’re at.” You hear the car start. “I’ll be there in a few minutes, do not move.”

You don’t respond, instead choosing to hang up. You know deep down that probably will send her into a slight panic, thinking you weren’t waiting outside the bar. Per Jessie’s request, you stay where you’re at, but you wander over to the curb, sitting down in a rather clumsy manner. You think back though your evening, your mess of an evening. A couple of tears begin to flow as you feel sorry for yourself. You drop your head into your hands, your elbows propped up on your knees. You sit like that until your thoughts are broken into by a voice.

You hear your name being called and look over to see Jessie walking quickly toward you. You quickly bring your hands up to your face trying to clear the tears that stained your cheeks.

“Hey.” Jessie bends down when she reaches you. “Are you hurt?” You shake your head to her. “What happened?”

“I was supposed to be meeting this girl that I was sort of chatting up.” You swallow down tears and your pride as you continue on. “She um, well she stood me up, she never showed, so I had a couple drinks, and then a couple more, and then there was this man who tried to get me to go home with him, and he came up behind me when I was at the bar and he um.” Your eyes flick to Jessie. She was watching you with such intensity you felt as if you were suddenly under a microscope, being picked apart.

“You can tell me.” Jessie lets a hand come rest on your bent knee, giving you a reassuring squeeze.

“He put himself against me and it just, I asked him to stop, he didn’t, so then I ran. And I didn’t have anyone else to call, I’m so sorry. I just want to go home.”

“Don’t be sorry, I’ll get you home, can you stand up?” You nod. Ignoring her outstretched hand you attempt to get up yourself. Once you’re nearly standing it’s as if someone has spun the globe, feeling suddenly off balance you stumble a few steps.

Jessie’s hands are immediately reaching to you, one on your waist, the other gripping your bicep as she stands you upright. “Woah. You’re clearly not okay.” You hear her mumble to herself. “Come on, I'm parked just around the corner.”

“Piggyback.” You say to her. You didn’t want to walk your feet feeling like they were made of lead. You wanted a ride, Jessie frequently would pick you up on her back, or carry you bridal style, or across her front, it always made you feel special. Made, you remind yourself, in the past, she didn’t do that for you anymore.

“No, just, here I’ll help you walk.” She loops her arm around your shoulders and tries to get you to step but you let your feet remain in place, heavy to the ground.

“Jessssie.” You know you sounded whiny, but you didn’t care, the drinks in your bloodstream telling you it was okay. “Please.” You give her a pleading look, one you knew she had a hard time refusing back when the two of you were together. So what if you were pulling on her heartstrings a little, she was the one who offered to come get you.

Jessie lets out a huff, realizing it’ll be easier to get you to the car carrying you, instead of fighting your drunkenness the whole way. “Fine, but no piggyback, that’s not safe with you like this.”

“Koala then.” Before she can say yes, you're lunging at Jessie, wrapping your arms around her neck and your legs around her midsection.

You feel one of Jessie’s hands come to rest high on your back before the other finds its way to your ass, just like how she would have carried you when you were together. Her hand is only there for a moment before she whispers a quick apology and moves to your lower back. “Sorry, habit.” As soon as she apologizes she starts walking.

You rest your head on her shoulder, watching as she keeps her gaze forward, aggressively avoiding looking over at you. You admire her, her face, her eyes, the way her soft curls bounced in front of your face with each step she took, the smell of her shampoo bringing back even more memories. With each step your body gently bounces with her. Before you know it she stops walking and she slowly releases the hold on your back.

She keeps one hand on your back to steady you, her other reaches for the car door, opening it before gently pushing you toward the seat. “Get in.”

You're clumsy climbing into her passenger seat. Jessie’s hand comes to rest on the top of your head making sure you don’t hit it as you step into the car. As soon as you’re seated you let your head flop back to the headrest and your eyes fall shut as Jessie closes the door and she walks around climbing into the driver's seat. You hear the noises of the car as she turns it on, the radio softly playing.

“Put your seatbelt on.”

You hum back, hearing her words but the weight of your arms suddenly feels too much, your eyelids equally heavy, you didn’t want to open them, so you don’t. You remain in the passenger seat, eyes closed not moving. You hear Jessie shift in her seat, her own buckle being undone before she’s leaning over the console toward you, her hand blindly reaching for the seatbelt. You open your eyes to her face just inches from yours.

You begin to look at the freckles on her cheek. Freckles that you used to study when you’d wake up before her. The beautiful spots, you had once spent a whole evening trying to kiss each one, you spend hours and we’re still unable to kiss every single one. Freckles that haven’t changed despite everything between the two of you feeling as if it had.

“Close your eyes, you’re staring.”

“You’re pretty.” Is all that comes out of your mouth as you close your eyes again. Jessie finally is able to click your seatbelt before buckling her own. It doesn’t take long for the gentle movement of the car and your exhaustion to take over lulling you into deep sleep.

The raging headache you woke up to was preventing your ability to open your eyes, let alone pull yourself from your bed. You roll around reaching out to your nightstand hoping to find water but instead finding a lamp. You didn’t have a lamp on your nightstand. Your eyes open and then shoot wide when you realize where you were. You were in Jessie’s bedroom. You frantically roll over finding the other half of the bed to be empty.

You pull yourself from the blankets and the pillows that were encapsulating you in the smell of your former lover. Your feet touch the ground and you look down to see you weren’t in the jeans and shirt you had gone out in last night. You were in a pair of loose shorts and a simple shirt that you knew was Jessie’s.

You crack open Jessie’s bedroom door, looking out to the rest of her place, scanning the room until your eyes meet hers. She’s sitting on the couch, a pillow and blanket donned across the cushions, she had clearly slept there last night.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” She stands up from the couch but doesn’t move toward you. “Are you alright?”

“I mean, hungover, but yeah I’m okay, I think.” Your hands come down to the bottom of Jessie's shirt that sat across your chest. “I remember calling you but honestly, I don’t really remember anything after I got in your car.”

“I can tell you, if you want.”

You nod and make your way into her living room, sitting on a chair that sat adjacent to her sofa.

“You fell asleep on the ride home, I decided to bring you here, which I know wasn’t exactly what you asked but I was worried about you. I wanted to be nearby in case you needed anything, I don’t know what you drank or ate, it just didn’t feel right dropping you off at your place alone.” Jessie looks over to you, checking that you’re following her explanation.

You nod at her, encouraging her to continue.

“I brought you into my room, got some clothes for you, I then left to come get settled out here and then you came out here, um, without a shirt complaining that you couldn’t get your pants off so I helped you change. You said that was okay but obviously you were drunk so you can’t really consent but I figured it was okay, I just wanted to help you.”

You reach a hand out, placing it on her forearm. She stops talking, her attention being grabbed by the feeling of you hand on her body. “That’s fine Jessie, I asked and you were helping me. Plus it’s nothing you haven’t seen or touched before.”

Jessie smiles quickly, letting a quick laugh fall from her lips as she looks down shaking her head. “That’s what you said last night too. But, yeah then I tried to get you to brush your teeth, that was a challenge.”

You winced at your own behavior, embarrassed that you probably acted like a child. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, it was fine. Then I got you into bed, made you drink some water, and you passed out pretty quick.” Jessie says, ending her sentence with a nod. What she didn’t tell you was how you had blabbered on about the girl you were supposed to have met that night.

“Jess, I don’t even think I want to date her.”

“Who?” Jessie asked as she rummaged in her closet for an extra toothbrush and a fresh washcloth.

“The girl who stood me up.”

Her hands froze as she reached for the small towel. She didn’t expect to have to talk about this with you. “Oh.”

“I think, I think, I’m just trying to get over you. Like you’re the love of my life, and we couldn’t make it work. And it hurts. And I want to fill that hole. So I got on Tinder, and I swiped and swiped and no one was even close to as amazing as you, but I’ll have to settle for someone right?”

“Um.” Jessie was pretty sure you had no idea what you were talking about, just letting every thought you had fall out of your mouth. She assumed you wouldn’t remember most of the night, especially this. She handed you the washcloth, to which you gave her a pouty frown. She sighed before wetting the washcloth herself, gently rubbing it across your face. As she wiped you began talking again.

“No one makes me smile like you did, no one makes me feel the heat, the butterflies, whatever it is, that feeling, no one can even compare. You’ve ruined love for me Jessie Fleming, no one can compete with you. I think I’m always going to love you, I still do. I want to text you after every game, I want to call you at night to hear your voice before I sleep. I miss waking up next to you. I just, I miss you. And I can’t have you. I was a distraction to you.”

The break up with Jessie had been amicable. You both came to the conclusion that life was too much. Jessie having to juggle the national team, being captain, dealing with the lawsuit, the drone scandal, on top of playing for Portland, she didn’t have time for you. You didn’t have much time for her either, having just gotten a new promotion, it came with new responsibilities. Responsibilities that had you in the office early and coming home late, responsibilities that had you traveling more often than not. The two of you watched as the living relationship you had built crumbled before your eyes, breaking both of your hearts. It would have been easier if you’d fallen out of love, if you had a huge fight, but you didn’t. Life had simply gotten in the way, and that hurt so much more.

“Let’s go get you tucked in.” Jessie says, trying to avoid the conversation you were having. She couldn’t do this with you, especially when she was pretty sure you didn’t know what you were even saying. She led you to the bed, pulling back the covers on what used to be your side of her bed, letting you climb in before pulling the sheet up for you. “Here’s water, drink some. If you need anything I’ll be out there.” She points toward the door.

“Stay?” Your question was almost a whisper, as if you were scared to ask. Jessie watched as you looked between her and the empty side of her bed.

“I,” Jessie shook her head at you. She longed so badly to be back in your arms, to fall asleep to the sound of your breathing. “I can’t.” She had turned and left you in the bed, her bed, leading herself to the couch where she knew she’d have a sleepless night, running through all the confessions you just told her.

”Well, I’m really, really sorry for putting you in that situation.”

“It’s okay, really.”

“No, it’s not, we were supposed to be no contact. I’m sorry I broke that.” You try to make eye contact with the Canadian, wanting her to know that while sure part of you was so happy to see her again, you felt embarrassed, you shouldn’t have made her come get you.

“It’s really okay, I’d rather you be safe than not call me.” Jessie grabs the pillow, placing it on her lap, her hands kneading at it.

“Well, thank you. Seriously.”

“Of course, I’m maybe not in love with you anymore, but I will always have love for you. And I’m always going to care about you. You can always call me.” Jessie said, knowing she was lying through her teeth. She still was very much in love with you. That’s why she jumped at the opportunity to come help, to see you again.

“Thanks.” You say quietly and Jessie nods slightly. The two of you are left in a silence for a moment. It was a new silence between the two of you. Silence had been common in your relationship, Jessie wasn’t always the biggest talker and you both enjoyed the peacefulness, but those had never been uncomfortable silences. This was uncomfortable.

“Well.” You clap your hands together across your lap. “I should go, get out of your hair, I’ve done enough.” You push up from the chair. “Where are my clothes from last night? I’ll give you these back.” You pull at the shirt you had on.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, just wear them home.” Jessie walks over to her kitchen counter handing you a reusable bag. “Here’s all your stuff, wallet is in there too. Your phone was charging next to the bed.”

“Yeah I grabbed it.” You show her the outline of our phone in the pocket of her shorts.

“Okay.”

“Okay. I guess I’ll be going.” You take a couple steps towards the door, finding the sneakers you had worn out the night before. “I’ll wash the clothes and get them back to you tomorrow, or I can bring you them tonight?”

“Whenever, it’s just sleeping clothes, I don’t need them back right away.”

“Okay.” You reach for the door before quickly turning to look at Jessie one more time. “Thank you again, and I’m really sorry.” The brunette just nodded at you. A smile that you couldn’t quite read across her face. She opened her mouth briefly before shutting it as if she wanted to say something but changed her mind. You head out the door, closing it behind you, unsure if you’d see her face again anytime soon.

As the door closed Jessie turned to face away from the door, backing up a few steps and letting her back rest against it for a moment. Maybe she should’ve told you, that you had told her about your feelings. Maybe she should’ve told you she still feels the same about you, that she’d be willing to try again, that she wanted to try again. But she hadn’t, and she’d have to learn to live with that.

[chosok-amo]

HYPOTHETICALLY, UPS?... : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

you chuckle softly, your eyes twinkling with playful mischief. “hypothetically, you should propose to me properly,” you tease, enjoying the light-heartedness of the moment.

m.list | wc. 7,6k

you wake up groggily, the dim light of the moon casting a faint glow through the curtains. instinctively, you reach out to either side, expecting to feel the warm presence of your boyfriends, but all you find is cold sheets. the emptiness is unsettling, and a sense of unease creeps in as you realize they haven’t been in bed for a while.

sitting up, you rub your eyes, trying to shake off the drowsiness. you glance at the clock on the nightstand—2 a.m. your heart races a little faster as you wonder where they could be at this hour. you toss the blanket aside, the chill of the room biting at your skin as you slide out of bed.

you step out of the bedroom, rubbing your eyes, and follow the faint glow coming from the living room. as you quietly approach, you see them both sitting on the floor, the soft light of the laptop casting shadows across their faces. paperwork is spread out across the coffee table, and they’re deeply engrossed in their work, brows furrowed in concentration.

for a moment, you just stand there, watching them—gojo’s usually carefree expression is serious, his blue eyes focused intently on the screen, while geto’s calm demeanor hides a subtle tension as he scribbles notes on a document.

you smile softly, admiring their dedication, but the late hour makes you worry. taking a few steps closer, you break the silence with a gentle, drowsy, “baby, why are you two still awake?”

they both look up, startled by your voice, their focused expressions softening when they see you. “oh, did we wake you?” gojo asks, his tone apologetic as he leans back, running a hand through his hair.

geto, always the quieter one, glances up from the laptop screen and reaches a hand out to you, gesturing for you to come closer. his tired eyes study your sleepy form as you walk over to him.

“sorry, baby,” he murmurs, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you down onto his lap. “we didn't mean to wake you.” gojo, always the more animated one, lets out a soft sigh. the flicker of the laptop screen reflects in his eyes as he looks at you, “yeah, we're just... caught up in some work stuff.”

“no, you didn't wake me up,” you assure as you settle onto geto's lap, his arms wrap around your stomach, holding you close. the warmth of his touch brings comfort to your grogginess, and you lean back against his chest, savoring his presence.

gojo watches the two of you with a slightly envious expression before he shakes it off, returning his focus to the laptop. “it's just some last-minute paperwork we've been putting off.” geto shifts beneath you, adjusting his position to make you more comfortable, his hand tracing absentminded patterns along your side.

“why don’t you wake me up?” you mumble sleepily, your voice barely above a whisper as you open your eyes and glance around the coffee table. your eyes land on the collection of empty coffee mugs scattered across the table and the floor. a sigh escapes you as you shake your head. “i could’ve made you some tea… you know i told you not to drink too much coffee, it’s not good for you.”

gojo chuckles softly, the sound filling the room. “and risk disturbing your beauty sleep? not a chance.” geto's thumb pauses its gentle rubbing on your hip, and he lets out a soft sigh. “we didn't want to bother you. we knew you had a long day.” gojo hums in agreement as he continues typing on the laptop, “yeah, and you looked so peaceful. besides, we needed the caffeine to finish this paperwork.”

their words reach you through the haze of sleep, but you’re too tired to protest much. instead, you slowly fold your legs up, curling into a smaller ball on geto’s lap, your cheek resting against your knee. “but i don’t mind,” you mumble, your eyes slipping shut as you speak. “i want to take care of you too…” your voice trails off, fading into a whisper as the exhaustion finally overtakes you.

gojo glances at you, noticing the way your eyes close and your body relaxes against geto. a small smile forms on his lips, and he lets out a sigh.

“she's falling back asleep.”

geto's arms instinctively tighten around you, holding you close against him. he can't help but let out a soft chuckle as he watches you. “she's always looking out for us, even when she's half-asleep.”

as you surrender to your drowsiness, your body slumps against your legs, curled up and barely unconscious on geto's lap. both their gazes soften as they take in your sleepy form. gojo looks up from the laptop, a tender expression on his face, while suguru gently brushes back a strand of hair from your forehead.

“look at you, princess,“ gojo coos, his voice is soft and tender. “you're too damn cute,” gojo murmurs, his voice filled with affection. he reaches out, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. geto presses a soft kiss to your temple, gently stroking your arm. “look at her. she wants to take care of us so badly but can't even fight her sleepiness,” geto softly murmured.

as gojo and geto watch you sleep with their affectionate gazes, they can't help but admire your determination to look out for them, even when you're dead tired.

gojo can't resist whispering another compliment, a fond smile on his face. “yeah, she's always trying to take care of us, even when she's half-gone.” geto's hand gently runs through your hair, his touch gentle as he speaks. “it's endearing, really. she's so stubborn, even when her body's begging for rest.”

suddenly, as if their words stirred something in you, your eyes flutter open. “i’m up, i’m up,” you mumble, blinking rapidly as you try to shake off the fog of sleep. your voice is still thick with drowsiness, and for a moment, you struggle to fully grasp where you are, your thoughts hazy.

both gojo and geto can't help but chuckle at your sleepy state. they know you're still half-asleep, but you're trying so hard to stay awake. gojo reaches out and pats your head gently, his fingers combing through your hair. “hey there, sleepyhead. you don't have to force yourself, you know.”

geto's arm around you tightens, pulling you even closer against his chest, “yeah, it's late. you should be getting your rest.”

despite their words, you shake your head stubbornly, eyes barely open as you mumble, “no, i’m not sleepy.” your voice is weak, and it’s clear to them—and probably even to you—that you’re fighting a losing battle against sleep.

geto can’t help but smile at your determination, his hand resuming its gentle stroking through your hair. “is that so?” he asks softly, the tenderness in his voice is unmistakable. “yeah,” you insist, though it comes out more as a sleepy mumble, your head already starting to droop again. you are looking at them with your eyes wide open, trying not to let them close this time.

both geto and gojo exchange an amused glance, aware of your losing battle with sleep but entertained by your stubbornness. giggling, gojo gently pokes your cheek. “you're so cute trying to stay awake, princess.” geto chuckles and his hand continues to gently comb through your hair, his touch soothing. “yeah, you're about as convincing as a koala right now. there's no way you're not tired.”

despite their teasing, you muster enough energy to push yourself up from geto’s lap. your movements are slow and deliberate as you head towards the kitchen. “i’m going to make you some tea, okay?” you say, your voice still thick with sleep but carrying a hint of determination.

suguru watches you with a mixture of affection and concern. “love, you don’t have to do that,” he calls after you, but there’s a soft smile on his face.

gojo props his elbows on the coffee table and sighs as he watches you shuffle towards the kitchen behind them. his eyes are full of affection and mild concern for your determination to stay awake and make them some tea.

“what are we going to do with her?” gojo asks, turning his gaze to geto, a hint of amusement in his voice. “she can barely stand, but she's hell-bent on making us tea.”

you’re so focused on preparing the tea that you don’t catch their exchange. you turn on the stove to boil water, moving with a sleepy but purposeful efficiency. you pull out their favorite tea blends, carefully measuring and preparing them according to their preferences. geto with his chamomile tea and gojo with his green tea.

as you work, your movements are slow but deliberate, and you manage a small, sleepy smile as you think of how pleased they’ll be with the tea. despite their earlier concerns, you’re determined to show them your appreciation in your own way.

as you diligently prepare the tea, gojo and geto watch you intently, their eyes filled with a mixture of amusement and concern. they've always found you endearing when you're sleepy, but they also worry about your well-being. “she's so stubborn,” gojo mumbles, shaking his head. “look at her, still trying to make us tea even though she's half-asleep.”

geto chuckles softly, a fond smile on his face. “yeah, she's always determined to take care of us, even when she's exhausted.”

once everything is ready, you return to the living room with the tea, your eyes heavy with sleep but a satisfied look on your face. you hand the cups to gojo and geto. “here you go,” you say, your voice a bit tired but filled with love. “i made your favorites.”

gojo and geto receive their cups with a mixture of gratitude and affection. their eyes light up as they take in the familiar aroma of their favorite tea. sipping the hot liquid, they exchange a look, silently appreciating your thoughtfulness despite your sleep-deprived state.

“thank you, love,” gojo coos, his words soft and sincere. geto adds with a smile, “you didn't have to go through all this trouble. you should be resting, not making tea.”

you respond by gently ignoring their concerns, your focus entirely on taking care of them. you head back to the kitchen, determined to follow through on your plan. when you return, you’re carrying a selection of snacks and sweets, specifically chosen for gojo to give his brain a much-needed boost.

“here, baby,” you say softly as you set the treats down in front of him. “i brought you some sweets. your brain must be tired from overwork.” you lightly touch his head, a tender gesture filled with care.

turning to geto, you offer him his favorite snack with a warm smile. “i also brought you your favorite snack. you must be hungry doing all this work.” you caress his cheek gently, your touch soothing and affectionate.

gojo's eyes widen with surprise and a hint of pride at your thoughtfulness. knowing how you're always looking out for their well-being, he can't help but smile affectionately. “you're too good to me. thanks, princess,” he murmurs, patting your hand gently.

geto glances up at you, his heart swelling with tenderness as you present him with his favorite snack. the simple act of you taking the time to prepare something just for him sends a wave of warmth through his chest. “thank you, sweetheart,” he says affectionately, his voice filled with gratitude.

as you settle down on the floor, taking a seat between them, both men can't resist the urge to touch you. gojo drapes his arm around your shoulder, pulls you closer against his chest. his hand gently strokes your hair, his touch a soothing and affectionate gesture. geto, on the other hand, reaches out, his hand finding its place on your thigh. his grip is gentle but firm, his thumb tracing small circles on your skin, a subtle show of possessiveness.

gojo looks at you, his eyes filled with adoration and a hint of mischief. he can't help but tease, “how did we get so lucky to have someone like you who's so attentive?” geto chuckles quietly, a soft smile on his face as he gazes at you. “yeah, we must have done something right to deserve you.”

you can't help but grin sheepishly as gojo pokes fun, the exhaustion evident on your face a stark contrast to the twinkle in your eyes. “or maybe i'm just a sucker for two handsome men,” you reply with a tired shrug, leaning into gojo's embrace. geto laughs softly at your response, his hand continuing its gentle tracing on your thigh. he shakes his head slightly, the fondness in his eyes evident.

gojo's arm tightens around you as you lean against him, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. his fingers tangle idly in your hair, the simple touch seemingly soothing to him as much as it is to you. “you're adorable, babe,” he teases, gently poking your cheek. “but we're the ones who really landed the jackpot here.” geto, ever the softer one, leans in to press a kiss to your temple. “you're too good to us,” he murmurs, the admiration in his voice unmistakable.

you let out a contented sigh, feeling the warmth of their affection. “if you need anything,” you say, your voice is still carrying a hint of sleepiness, “just tell me. i’ve still got some tea left if you want more.”

gojo's hand stops messing with your hair for a moment, and he glances down at you with a small smile. “you're too sweet, princess. but you should be the one resting, not us.” geto, never one to deny your care, chimes in with a nod. “he's right, baby. we appreciate it, but you need your beauty sleep more than we need more tea.”

you pout slightly, feeling a mix of frustration and affection. “why do you always won’t let me take care of you?” you ask, your voice carrying a hint of playful exasperation.

both men chuckle at your pout, unable to resist the cute, sleepy expression on your face. gojo pokes your cheek with a finger, a teasing smile on his lips. “oh, we do like it when you take care of us, princess. but we also want to take care of you, you know. but because it's our job to take care of you, princess, not the other way around.”

geto's hand on your thigh gives a gentle squeeze, his tone soft and affectionate. “you're always looking out for us. sometimes we just want to return the favor.” you look at gojo with a slightly wrinkled forehead, your eyes showing a mix of stubbornness and affection. “no, it’s a two-way street. we’re taking care of each other. doesn’t matter if i’m sleepy or not,” you insist, your voice firm but filled with warmth.

both men can't help but smile at your determination, finding your stubbornness endearing even in your sleepy state. gojo's finger pokes your forehead lightly, but his gaze is affectionate. “you really are too stubborn for your own good, princess.” geto's hand tightens slightly on your thigh, a silent display of affection. “we know it's a two-way street, but we also know you're tired. we can't help but worry about you when you're like this.”

you look up at them with pleading eyes, your voice taking on a softer tone. “please?” you ask, your gaze is earnest. “do i have to beg just because i want to take care of my boyfriends?”

gojo and geto exchange a look, their resolve weakening at your pleading eyes. neither can resist when you give them that look, knowing full well that you're pulling at their heartstrings. gojo lets out a dramatic sigh, his shoulders sagging. “ah, you know we can't say no when you look at us like that. alright, alright. we'll let you take care of us, princess.” geto chuckles, his expression fond. “you don't have to beg, sweetheart. we were just worried about you.”

you respond with a playful smirk, “well, maybe if you two just let me take care of you instead of worrying too much and trying to get me to sleep, your work might be almost done by now and we can go to sleep much faster.”

both men look at you with a mixture of amusement and affection. they know you have a point, but neither can resist the urge to tease you. gojo shakes his head, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “oh, so now you're telling us how to do our job, huh?” geto chuckles quietly, his hand gently squeezing your thigh again, “are you trying to boss us around, princess?”

you laugh a little, maintaining your bossy expression. “damn right i am,” you reply with a playful wink. “now go back to work, you peasants.”

both men can't help but chuckle at your feisty response, finding it endearing even as you try to act in charge. gojo pretends to pout, throwing one arm over his eyes in an exaggerated display of mock despair. “ah, how could you be so cruel, princess? treating us like lowly peasants.” geto can't resist joining in, feigning a melodramatic sigh. “oh, the injustice of it all. we're simply trying to look out for you, and here you are, commanding us like servants.”

despite their theatrics, both men are obviously amused by your playful banter. they know you're just being cheeky, and they can't help but find it endearing. gojo lowers his hand just enough to peer at you through his fingers, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. he speaks in a mock-whine, his voice exaggerated, “please, princess. have mercy. we'll do whatever you say, just spare us from your wrath.”

geto mirrors gojo's expression, his hand leaving your thigh to dramatically clutch his heart. he joins in the playful theatrics, his voice equally melodramatic. “we're but humble serfs in your presence,” he says, his eyes filled with mock pleading, “we beg you, princess, to be merciful and spare us the agony of your commands.”

gojo's lips twitch in amusement at geto's exaggerated plea. he leans in closer to you, his arm still draped over his eyes. “yeah, what he said. we'll do anything, just don't make us do any more work.”

geto chimes in next to you, his expression softening as he looks at you. “we'll bend to your every whim, just don't work yourself to exhaustion trying to take care of us.” you raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk on your lips. “oh, really? well, if you’re going to be so accommodating, i might just have to start making some demands,” you tease, your tone sassy.

you lean in closer, giving them a mischievous grin. “first order of business: take a break and let me take care of you both properly. no more excuses.”

both men share an amused glance, their expressions equal parts playful and fond. they exchange a silent look, wordlessly agreeing to give in to your demands. gojo dramatically sighs, removing his arm from his eyes to look at you with mock resignation. “ah, you drive a hard bargain, princess. but if it's your command, who are we to resist.” geto chuckles softly, his hand once again resting on your thigh. “looks like you've got us whipped, sweetheart.”

gojo flops back against the couch cushions with exaggerated exhaustion. “so what's your plan, then? gonna give us a foot massage or something?” geto settles back into the couch, his arm still around you. he plays along, feigning a pitiful expression. “yeah, we're worn out from all the hard work. we could use some pampering from a pretty lady like you.”

you roll your eyes, a playful smirk on your lips. “please, you're not fooling anyone with that act. i know you both just want to keep me awake so you can enjoy me being clingy. but fine, i'll play along. foot massage it is.” you get to your feet and position yourself in front of them, a mock-authoritative look on your face as you gesture for them to present their feet.

gojo let's out a dramatic groan as if the thought of a foot massage was physically painful, but his eyes are glittering with amusement. “oh, my poor aching feet. how will i ever survive such torture?” geto can't help but grin at your authoritative demeanor, his eyes flicking between you and gojo. he plays along, pretending to be reluctant as he lifts his foot, placing it on your lap. “oh, how awful. i guess we have no choice but to submit to your foot massage torment.”

as you start the foot massage, gojo pretends to wince and moan as if you're inflicting terrible pain on his feet. “oh, the agony! i can't handle this torture any longer!” next to him, geto struggles to hold back laughter as he pretends to suffer through the ‘torment’. he puts on his best pained expression, wincing and groaning exaggeratedly. “oh, princess, you're going to break us with this painful pampering! we can't handle it!”

you struggle to keep a straight face as both men act like overgrown toddlers, pretending to suffer through the mild discomfort of a foot massage. gojo continues to exaggerately moan and groan, his head thrown back against the couch cushions. “oh, the horror! you're truly a devil in disguise, princess!”

geto, never one to be outdone, joins in, his expression filled with mock suffering as he pretends to wriggle in pain. “oh, how cruel you are! making us endure such torturous pampering!” you try to stifle your laughter, struggling to keep a straight face as both men exaggerate their discomfort with playful theatrics. their dramatic reactions only make it harder for you to stay serious.

“oh, the poor things,” you say with a mock sympathetic tone, barely able to hold back your laughter. “i guess you’re just too delicate for a little pampering. i’ll try to be more merciful next time.” you continue the foot massage with a grin, clearly enjoying their playful responses and the way they’re letting their guard down for your amusement.

both men can't help but break character as you respond with playful sarcasm, their over-the-top expressions breaking into wide grins. gojo's dramatic moans become chuckles as he looks at you, his eyes filled with amusement. “oh, dear, how could you be so harsh with us?” geto's exaggerated winces transform into a smile as he laughs, clearly enjoying the banter. “yeah, we're clearly too delicate for your ruthless pampering. we plead for mercy, princess.”

you burst into laughter, unable to contain your amusement as both men break character and their exaggerated expressions turn into genuine smiles. “oh, really?” you tease, still laughing. “you two are such drama queens! i guess i’ll have to rethink my strategy for torturing you with my pampering.” you give them a playful wink, clearly enjoying the light-hearted moment and the way they’re embracing the fun.

gojo lets out a mock gasp, feigning offense at your playful accusation. “drama queens? us? we are the epitome of dignity and composure.” geto nods in agreement, unable to hold back his own laughter. “yeah, how dare you imply we're anything but the epitome of stoicism and seriousness.” but their attempts to keep up the act are undermined by the grins on their faces, their eyes filled with mirth. it's clear they're enjoying every second of your playful banter.

you snort, clearly amused by their exaggerated attempts at maintaining their act. “oh, of course, the epitome of dignity and composure,” you say with a teasing tone, rolling your eyes playfully. “i’ll be sure to remember that next time.” you continue the foot massage, your grin widening as you enjoy the banter and their clear enjoyment of the playful exchange.

gojo pretends to straighten his non-existent tie, putting on his most serious expression. “that's right, we are the very picture of gravitas and seriousness.” geto adds, feigning a dignified nod. “indeed, we carry ourselves with the utmost dignity and composure at all times.”

as you continue the foot massage, both men struggle to maintain their serious faces, their eyes sparkling with mirth. it's clear they're loving every second of the banter, their laughter bubbling just beneath the surface. you raise an eyebrow, your lips curling into a playful smirk. “yeah?” you ask, your tone teasing.

before they can react further, you give a dramatic pause and then pull at the hair on their legs, eliciting the most exaggerated, girly screams of hurt from both men.

both gojo and geto's acting falls apart entirely at your unexpected action, their fake serious expressions giving way to surprised squeals as you yank the hair on their legs.

gojo lets out a high-pitched gasp of pain, his hand clutching his leg as if you've inflicted a terrible injury. “OWW! WHAT THE HELL, PRINCESS?” geto's reaction is equally dramatic, his voice reaching a pitch he didn't know he could reach. “AAHH! OUCH! THAT HURTS!”

you burst into laughter at their over-the-top reactions, the sound of their surprised squeals and dramatic exclamations only making your amusement grow. “wow, you two really can’t handle a little hair tug, huh?” you tease, still laughing. “i didn’t think you’d react like that. maybe i should’ve been gentler!” you continue to chuckle, clearly enjoying the playful chaos and the way they’re both struggling to regain their composure.

both men glare at you, their expressions a mix of exaggerated pain and mock outrage. gojo grumbles dramatically, his hand still gripping his leg as if in agony. “that was not a 'little hair tug' that was a brutal assault on my very being. you're heartless, princess.” geto nods in agreement, his voice filled with feigned hurt. “yeah, you could've warned us! we're sensitive, you know. a little gentleness would be appreciated.”

you continue to chuckle, unable to keep a straight face as both men maintain their mockingly hurt expressions. the sight of them pretending to be fragile and delicate is nothing short of hilarious. “oh, come on, you big babies," you tease, your grin widening. "that was hardly a brutal assault. a little hair tug shouldn't have you both acting like i just ripped out a limb."

both men continue to pout, feigning hurt feelings as they pretend to wince in pain. gojo shakes his head dramatically, his tone overly dramatic. “oh, princess, you clearly underestimate the sensitivity of our delicate skin. that tug will leave emotional scars that may never heal.”

geto joins in, his voice filled with mock horror, “yeah, we'll forever carry the trauma of your reckless tug. we may never be the same again.” you can't help but laugh, their theatrical dramatics only adding to the amusement. “oh, please,” you say, still chuckling. “do you two need me to fetch some tissues for your nonexistent tears? or should i call in a group therapy session for the hair trauma? you're both being overdramatic, and you know it.”

both men maintain their exaggerated pouts, refusing to let the act drop. gojo huffs dramatically, crossing his arms over his chest. “tissues aren't going to cut it, princess. we need a full-on recovery plan. this is a matter of emotional and psychological trauma we're talking about.” geto nods in agreement, his expression still feigning hurt. “yeah, you clearly underestimate the extent of the damage you've caused. we're fragile souls, you know. we need TLC and gentle care to heal properly.”

you roll your eyes, suppressing a grin at their continued dramatic performance. “alright, alright,” you say with a sigh of mock resignation. “here, let me kiss it better.”

both men's expressions immediately switch from exaggerated pain to eagerness, their wounded pride suddenly forgotten. gojo's eyes light up, his voice suddenly hopeful. “oh, princess, you're so kind and generous. please, kiss it better. we can't possibly recover without your healing touch.” geto nods in agreement, a hint of a smile on his lips. “yeah, princess, your kisses are the only cure for our hair trauma. we need your tender affection to mend our fragile egos.”

you lean in and press a gentle kiss to their legs, playing along with their act but clearly enjoying the fun. “there, all better. now can we get back to actually relaxing?”

both men let out exaggerated sighs of relief as you kiss their legs. gojo grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “ah, your kiss has worked a miracle, princess. we're miraculously cured now.” geto laughs softly, also enjoying the playful banter. “yeah, who knew your kisses could have healing powers? we feel like brand new men now.”

gojo pretends to inspect his leg, checking whether the ‘trauma’ has been healed. “you know, princess, that was a pretty impressive kiss. maybe you should consider a career as a hair trauma specialist.” geto nods in agreement, a playful smile on his lips. “yeah, that healing touch of yours is quite something. maybe we should make you a permanent part of our self-care routine.”

gojo pretends to inspect his leg, checking whether the "trauma" has been healed. his eyes gleaming with a devilish glint. “you know, princess, since your kisses have such miraculous healing powers, now we're thinking of other parts that need your special touch.”

geto catches on to his suggestive tone, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “yeah, princess, we have some other... sensitive areas that could use your attention.”

you can't help but chuckle as both men begin to hint at their ‘sensitive areas’ that need your attention. you playfully play along, raising an eyebrow. “oh, really? and which 'sensitive areas' might those be, hm?”

gojo pretends to think deeply for a moment, then gestures to his chest. “well, my chest, obviously. it's feeling quite neglected and in desperate need of your touch.” you grab a pillow from the couch and place it on the carpet floor, patting it invitingly. “lay here, then. let me take a look at that sensitive area.”

you lie on your side next to the pillow, propping yourself up on your elbow and giving them an amused look. “i’ll see what i can do about your ‘neglect’.”

gojo grins, clearly pleased with your directness and eagerness to play along. he quickly positions himself on the pillow, lying down next to you. he looks up at you with a playful smile, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “oh, princess, i have full confidence in your ability to take care of my neglect. i'm all yours to tend to.”

you clear your throat, trying to adopt a serious expression despite the playful glint in your eyes. you place your finger on his chest and start making slow, deliberate circles on his clothes, pretending to focus intently on the “sensitive area.”

“alright, let’s assess the situation here,” you say in a mock-serious tone. “we need to make sure we address this ‘neglect’ properly.” you continue your circles with exaggerated care, enjoying the playful moment and the way gojo’s mischievous smile never fades.

gojo follows along with your act, pretending to be a serious and patient patient. his eyes never leave your face as you make your pretend “medical inspection”. he grins widely at your mock-professional tone, clearly enjoying the playful role-play. “oh, for sure. we need to tackle this neglect head-on. please, princess, don't hold back. whatever it takes to heal this sensitive chest area of mine.”

you lean down and press a gentle kiss to his chest, your lips brushing lightly against his clothes. you maintain your mock-professional demeanor as you pull back with a playful smile. “there, all done,” you say, your tone both teasing and affectionate. “i’m sure that kisses will do wonders for your ‘sensitive area.’”

gojo grins wider as you kiss his chest, clearly very amused by this little game. he plays along, pretending to be completely satisfied. “oh, princess, you're a miracle worker. that kiss was exactly what i needed to cure my neglect. i can feel that sensitive area coming back to life already.”

he reaches up to poke your nose playfully, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “you truly have magic in those lips, you know that?” you hum with satisfaction and turn your attention to geto, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “what about you, big boy?” you ask, your tone playful and teasing.

you pat the spot next to you on the pillow, giving him an inviting smile. “ready for your turn? I promise to handle your ‘sensitive area’ with the same care.” you wait for his response, clearly enjoying the playful role reversal and the way both men are fully immersed in the fun.

geto grins at your playful invitation, his eyes sparkling in anticipation. he moves closer and takes the spot next to you on the pillow, positioning himself in a mirrored pose to gojo.

“oh, princess, i'm honored to be the second patient on your agenda. i hope you'll treat my 'sensitive area' as well as you did gojo's.” he looks at you expectantly, his playfulness never faltering.

you turn around to face geto, giving gojo your back as he props himself up on one elbow, watching the scene with interest. you furrow your eyebrows, adopting a mock-serious expression.

“alright, let’s see here,” you say, your tone is professional as you pretend to examine geto. your eyes land on his lips, and you point to them with a dramatic flourish. “i assume this is your sensitive area, am i correct?” you look at geto with an amused glint in your eye, clearly enjoying the playful role-play and the way he’s playing along with the game.

geto's lips twitch with suppressed laughter as you point to his lips and declare them his “sensitive area”, finding your over-the-top professional pose ridiculously amusing. but, being the good sport he is, he plays along. he nods seriously, acting as if you've just made a groundbreaking diagnosis.

“yes, princess, my lips are indeed my most sensitive area. they require delicate, and perhaps... frequent attention.” you nod with a mock-serious expression, “let me heal you, my dear patient,” and lean down to give him a tender kiss. you cup his cheek gently as you kiss him, your touch soft and affectionate. even while lying on your side, you manage to make the moment feel intimate and caring, adding to the playful charm of the role-play.

geto lets out a soft sigh as you give him the tender kiss, his eyes flickering closed as he savors the feel of your touch. your gentle gesture and the way you kiss him makes his heart flutter, even though he knows it's all pretense.

when you pull back, he looks at you with a soft, affectionate smile, pretending to be fully healed. “oh, princess, that kiss was just what i needed. my lips feel completely healed now. can i consider myself in complete recovery now?”

you smile warmly at geto’s response, clearly pleased with his playful acceptance of your ‘treatment.’ “I’m glad to hear that, my dear patient,” you say with a teasing tone. “yes, you’re officially in complete recovery.”

you lean in and give him one last, gentle peck on the cheek. “feel free to rest up now. and remember, if you need any more ‘treatment,’ just let me know.” you give him a reassuring smile, enjoying the playful moment and the affectionate exchange.

geto grins widely at your response, clearly enjoying the playful way you're treating him. he plays along, pretending to be utterly relaxed and at ease. “oh, princess, i feel like a new man now. I shall rest my weary self as you have instructed. and be assured, if i feel the need for more 'treatment', you'll be the first one i come to.” he leans in and returns your cheek kiss, adding a little extra intimacy to the playful act.

gojo watches with a mock pout from over your shoulder, clearly feeling left out. he groans dramatically, “hey, what about me? i only got a kiss on my chest! i’m still in need of some princess-level treatment.” you turn around as he gives you a pleading look, clearly enjoying the playful banter but also genuinely wanting a bit more affection.

you chuckle, seeing gojo's mock pout and hearing his exaggerated groans. you turn around to face him, your expression playful yet also affectionate. “oh, my dramatic patient, don't worry. i didn't forget about you. i just had to attend to geto's 'sensitive area' first.” you pat his chest lightly, your touch playful yet tender, “but your turn is coming.”

you lay down on your back, resting your head on geto's arm as a pillow. with a contented sigh, you glance over at gojo, who is watching you with eager anticipation.

“see? i’m making sure everyone gets their fair share of attention,” you say with a playful smile. “now, let’s make sure your ‘sensitive area’ gets the treatment it deserves.” you extend your arm toward gojo, inviting him closer for his turn, ready to continue the playful game and give him the affection he’s been waiting for.

gojo grins widely at your invitation, his playful and eager expression making it clear that he's very much looking forward to his “treatment.” he moves closer, positioning himself next to you on the pillow, as you continue to lie sandwiched between the two men like a princess being pampered by her loyal subjects. gojo looks at you, his eyes sparkling with excitement, “oh, princess, I'm ready for my treatment. i've been anxiously waiting for your tender touch.”

you drape your hand around gojo’s shoulder, pulling him closer as he positions himself on his stomach beside you, his body resting slightly on top of you. you cup his cheek gently, looking into his eyes with a soft, affectionate gaze. “let me take care of you too,” you say softly. “you’ve been so patient. now, let me heal you too.” you lean in and place a tender kiss on his lips making sure he feels the same warmth and affection that you’ve shown to geto.

gojo sighs softly as you pull him closer, his body pressed against yours in a position that feels both intimate and safe. he melts into your touch as you cup his cheek, his eyes locking with yours in a moment of tenderness and vulnerability.

as you lean in to kiss him, he closes his eyes, savoring the feeling of your lips on his. he responds to your kiss with equal softness, his own lips moving against yours in a gentle and affectionate exchange. for a moment, the playful banter of earlier is replaced with a quiet sweetness.

your nose brushes against each other as the kiss deepens, gojo's hand on your hip gently tightens, the feel of his strong, calloused fingers on your soft flesh a subtle but undeniable expression of his affection and desire for you.

he shifts slightly, his body pressing a little closer to yours. his lips move against yours with a mixture of tenderness and a hint of neediness, his tongue briefly tracing the contour of your mouth in a silent plea for more.

as the kiss continues, gojo's hand on your hip begins to move, gently tracing a path up and down your side in a slow, caressing motion. each light touch seems to send a shiver through your body, an intimate and affectionate connection that speaks volumes without words.

he breaks the kiss briefly, gasping for air (he's much less adept at controlling his breathing than geto), before claiming your lips again in another possessive, but tender, kiss.

geto watches the intimate moment between you and gojo, his eyes flickering with a mix of affection and a hint of playful envy. he smiles softly as he sees the way your bodies are pressed together, the way your lips move against gojo's in a tender yet passionate exchange.

he reaches down and lightly brushes your hair, as if to gently remind you of his presence while also expressing a silent request for you to not forget him in the moment.

geto, watching the intimate moment unfold, feels a mix of amusement and protectiveness. he gently pushes gojo away, his tone playful but firm with a little bit of envy. “alright, man, stop hogging her.”

gojo breaks away from the kiss with a playful, albeit reluctant, pout, clearly not happy at being interrupted by geto's ‘gentle’ push. he glances over his shoulder at his friend, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“oh, suguru, we were just getting good,” he protests, a hint of annoyance in his voice, but also a playful hint of competition, “can't you let me have my moment with the princess in peace?”

geto merely chuckles in response to gojo's pout and protest, his grin widening as he relishes the competition and playful banter. he gently wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer against him.

“oh, come on, satoru, i'm not going to let you hog all the princess' time and attention now. she has two handsome, injured patients to tend to, remember?” geto teases, his touch on your shoulder affectionate and tender. you roll your eyes playfully at their antics, a smile tugging at your lips despite the mock annoyance. “alright, alright, you two. i guess I’ll just have to split my time and attention equally between my ‘handsome patients’ then.”

you settle back comfortably, leaning into geto’s embrace while reaching out a hand to gently touch gojo’s arm, signaling that you’re still here for both of them, balancing the affection with ease. “come here,” you tell the man, signaling him to lay beside you properly.

gojo's grin widens at your playful eye-roll and mock annoyance, clearly enjoying the banter with both you and geto. when you reach out a hand to touch his arm, he responds immediately, leaning into your touch with a soft smile.

when you call him to lay beside you, a playful glimmer sparks in his eye. he moves to settle in beside you, stretching out comfortably on the pillow, his body close enough for his arm to still occasionally brush against yours or geto's.

you let out a content sigh, gazing up at the ceiling as the three of you lie on the carpet. “this is nice,” you speak softly, your voice sincere and unguarded. “i could get used to this.” geto hums in agreement, his body warm against you as he holds you close. “i have to agree,” he says quietly, a soft smile on his lips. “there's something soothing about just lying here like this, together. no missions, no responsibilities— just the three of us.”

gojo echoes geto's sentiment, nodding slightly as his fingers absently trace lazy patterns on your arm. “yeah, princess, this is... surprisingly nice,” he murmurs, his voice unusually soft and gentle.

the room falls into a comfortable, companionable silence, the only sounds being the soft breathing and occasional rustle of movement on the carpet as you all adjust your positions to bask in the peaceful moment.

after a while, geto's fingers begin to idly play with strands of your hair, and gojo reaches out to intertwine his fingers with yours, both men quietly seeking a bit more contact and connection with you. you can almost feel the tension in both men slowly melting away as you all lie together, a comfortable silence enveloping the room, broken only by the sound of your steady breaths and occasional light touches.

it's as if the playful banter and competition have given way to a moment of peaceful respite. a comfortable, intimate moment to simply enjoy each other's company, away from the chaos and demands of their lives as jujutsu sorcerers.

the three of you continue to remain in that comfortable, intimate moment, the passing minutes marked by the gentle movements of hair being played with, fingers intertwined, or arms casually resting against each other.

gojo breaks the silence after a while, his voice soft and contemplative. “princess,” he murmurs, his tone unusually serious and thoughtful, “can I ask you something?”

“hum?” you hummed softly.

gojo's gaze is fixed on the ceiling as he contemplates his words, his fingers still gently intertwined with yours. the seriousness in his tone indicates that he's about to ask a question that requires a thoughtful response.

“can i ask... how would you describe us?” he asks after a pause, his voice unusually soft and vulnerable, “the three of us... what are we, to you?” you fall silent for a moment, your eyes still focused on the ceiling above. a soft smile forms on your lips as you reflect on gojo's question.

“did you know about the old poem that says, ‘speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life?’”you ask gently, your voice carrying a touch of love for them.

“that's how i feel about you,” you add quietly, the depth of your emotion clear in your tone even though you're not looking directly at them.

your words hang in the air for a moment, the quiet honesty in your response touching both men deeply. geto's grip on your shoulder tightens slightly, as if he's silently expressing his own emotions as he listens intently.

gojo's fingers tighten around yours as well, a subtle indication of the impact your words have on him. he's uncharacteristically silent, processing your response. when he finally finds his voice, it's unusually soft and vulnerable. “does that mean... we make you feel alive?” he asks, the faintest hint of insecurity in his question.

you turn to gojo for a brief moment, a soft, genuine smile on your lips, before your gaze returns to the ceiling.

“i love you like that,” you say softly, “i’m happy.” your words carry a depth of emotion, revealing just how much they mean to you and how they have enriched your life.

gojo's breath hitches slightly as your gaze meets his for a brief moment and then returns to the ceiling. your words— “i love you like that, i’m happy”— fill him with a heady mixture of emotion. he's clearly taken aback, not expecting such a heartfelt and powerful response. most people think it might be the most basic and simple answer, but not for him, god, not for them.

beside you, geto's grip on your shoulder tightens even more, a silent affirmation of his own feelings. he can practically feel the emotion radiating off gojo in waves.

the silence in the room is deafening, each of you lost in your own thoughts and feelings, both men seemingly affected by your response in different ways. gojo is unusually quiet, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, while geto can't bring himself to speak, the intensity of the moment leaving him temporarily speechless.

after what feels like an eternity, gojo finally breaks the silence, swallowing hard before he mutters. “you mean that, princess?” his voice is low and laced with insecurity, a rarity for him.

you nod, the motion is small but sure, and your voice comes out as a soft whisper, “every single word.” the sincerity in your tone leaves no room for doubt. the simple gesture of your nod and the sincerity in your voice are like a balm to gojo's soul. a visible wave of relief seems to wash over him, his tensed shoulders relaxing slightly as your confirmation sinks in.

he swallows again, his throat bobbing as he stares up at the ceiling, his usual bravado replaced by a more vulnerable side. “thank you,” he whispers gruffly, the depth of his emotions apparent in his voice.

geto, sensing the emotional shift in gojo, finally speaks up. his voice is low and soothing, a comforting presence in the room. “you've got a way with words, princess,” he murmurs, a hint of admiration in his tone, “and you say exactly what we need to hear.” he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze, adding just a little bit more tenderness to the moment.

you turn your head slightly towards geto, your voice gentle but firm. “i’m not saying it just because it’s what you want to hear,” you say, your gaze drifting back to the ceiling. “i said it because that’s how i feel.”

your words hang in the air, heavy with sincerity, and both men seem to take a moment to absorb the depth of your emotions. your words seem to have a profound effect on both men, gojo especially. his grip on your hand tightens slightly, as if he's silently seeking reassurance.

geto, meanwhile, lets out a soft hum, the sound echoing with contentment. he brings his other hand up to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear, a silent gesture of affection.

“we know,” geto says quietly, his fingers lingering on your cheek for a moment before returning to your shoulder, “and that's what makes it even more meaningful.” another stretch of silence follows, the atmosphere in the room now weighted with a mixture of contentment, vulnerability, and affection. gojo finally speaks up again, his voice still gruff but no longer insecure.

“princess?” he murmurs, his gaze shifting to you, “can i ask you something else?”

your smile widens, warmth spreading through you at the sound of gojo’s voice, a mix of curiosity and vulnerability. without shifting your gaze from the ceiling, you let out a soft, amused breath. gojo and his endless questions.

“sure, baby,” you respond gently, your voice tender and reassuring. you know whatever he asks next will be met with the same honesty, the same love, because that’s what the three of you share—something real, something worth every word spoken.

gojo grins slightly at your amusement, clearly aware that he does indeed have a penchant for endless questions— he just can't help himself. the nickname “baby” also doesn’t go unnoticed, his heart swelling with affection for you.

he swallows, his throat suddenly dry. “this might be a big question,” he warns, his voice dropping to a low murmur, “but... are we...” he hesitates, seemingly unsure of how to phrase his question. geto, sensing the significance of the moment, also perks up, his gaze shifting subtly between you and gojo. he remains quiet, but his arm around your shoulders tightens just a tiny bit, silently expressing his curiosity.

gojo continues, his voice is still low and tentative. “are we... exclusive?” he finally manages to get the question out, his eyes darting over to you, searching your face for your reaction.

you can’t help the soft laugh that escapes your lips, the sheer innocence and absurdity of gojo’s question catching you off guard. the corners of your mouth twitch as you hold back a wider grin, finding his uncertainty oddly endearing.

turning your head slightly, you finally meet his gaze, your eyes twinkling with affection and amusement. “i don't know, baby,” you reply, your tone gentle yet teasing, “we've been dating for four years and living together for three years… why don't you tell me?”

geto scoffs quietly at gojo’s question, shaking his head with a small, amused smile, but he doesn’t say anything, letting your response stand on its own. it’s a moment that’s both lighthearted and deeply reassuring, a reminder of the bond you all share.

gojo's cheeks flush slightly at your teasing response, his expression a mix of embarrassment and sheepish amusement. he's clearly aware of how obvious the answer to his question should be, but in the moment, he wanted to hear the words from you.

he groans lightly, running a hand through his messy hair and chuckling sheepishly. “alright, princess, that was a dumb question, i'll admit it,” he concedes. he glances at geto, a hint of defensiveness in his tone, “give me a break, man. i'm not exactly an expert at this whole commitment thing.”

geto's smile widens, his eyes sparkling with a mix of affection and smugness, as he watches the exchange between you and gojo. “i would say you've done alright so far,” he teases lightly, his voice filled with humor.

he gives your shoulder another squeeze, clearly enjoying the playful banter, his body still pressed warmly against yours. he chimes in, trying to lighten the mood even further. “yeah, princess, you should give the poor man a break. after all, it's a miracle he's managed to keep a relationship together for this long.”

you chuckle softly, your eyes twinkling with amusement as you watch gojo's reaction. “oh, you need to be more exclusive? how about getting married?” you tease gently, a playful edge to your voice, without realizing you just putting an idea inside their heads.

gojo's eyes widen comically, his mouth hanging open for a brief moment as if he's processing your words. you can practically see the wheels turning in his brain, his mind already contemplating the idea.

geto, on the other hand, seems visibly surprised by your suggestion, his grip on your shoulder tightening momentarily as he processes the possibility. both men remain silent, their minds clearly contemplating the idea of marriage that you’ve just proposed.

you notice gojo's eyes widening and his cheeks flushing, and you can’t help but find his flustered response endearing. “don’t worry, baby,” you add with a soft smile, “i was just teasing. but if you ever want to make it official, you know where to find me.”

you were just teasing, sure, but them? their brains already start overworking from thinking to make you their wives. gojo lets out a relieved breath, visibly relaxing slightly at the realization that you were only teasing. but the idea of marriage is still swirling in his head, the thought of you as his wife making his heart flutter.

geto, meanwhile, is also clearly affected by your words. he seems lost in thought, his gaze fixed on nowhere in particular as he ponders the possibility.

both men exchange a discreet glance at your last remark, a silent conversation passing between them, filled with a mix of excitement and anticipation

after a moment of silent communication between geto and gojo, the latter finally speaks up, clearing his throat. “princess,” he murmurs, his voice a bit raspier than usual, “hypothetically speaking, if i— we wanted to make this official...” he trails off, his eyes meeting yours, a flicker of vulnerability visible in his gaze.

geto grins lazily, clearly enjoying the direction this conversation is taking. he leans his chin on your shoulder, his lips hovering near your ear. “yeah, hypothetically,” he adds quietly, his tone laced with anticipation.

gojo’s lips twitch with a hint of uncertainty, his heart beating faster as he contemplates the next words coming out of his mouth.

“do you...” he hesitates, swallowing hard when his voice breaks slightly. he takes a deep breath, steeling himself to just ask the damn question. “do you think you'd ever want to... marry us?” he finally gets the question out, his gaze fixed on yours, awaiting your response. geto's grip on you tightens, silently signaling his agreement and added curiosity.

you look at both men, your smile growing even wider as you take in their anxious expressions. “yes,” you reply, your voice warm and sincere. “hypothetically,” you add with a teasing hint, but the truth in your words is unmistakable.

gojo and geto both let out a sigh of relief at your response, their shoulders relaxing as the tension in the room dissolves into a palpable excitement.

gojo's heart thumps heavily in his chest, still processing the fact that you’ve not only just agreed to a hypothetical marriage, but you’ve also done so with such an open heart.

geto, on the other hand, grins widely, his hand moving from your shoulder to gently trace patterns along your arm. “hypothetically,” he whispers in your ear, “you're going to be stuck with us forever.”

you smile contentedly, gazing at the ceiling as you absorb the warmth of the moment. “hypothetically, i’ll be happier than ever,” you reply softly, your voice filled with genuine affection and anticipation.

gojo and geto share a glance, both visibly pleased by your words. gojo then lets out a soft huff, a mixture of anticipation and excitement laced in his voice.

“hypothetically, we should start planning.”

geto nods in agreement, his hand coming to rest on your stomach, his thumb idly stroking your skin. “hypothetically, yeah. the sooner, the better.” you chuckle softly, your eyes twinkling with playful mischief. “hypothetically, you should propose to me properly,” you tease, enjoying the light-heartedness of the moment.

both of them chuckle in response, the atmosphere turning even more lighter and flirty. “hypothetically,” gojo counters, a roguish grin on his lips, “what if we just jump straight to eloping?” geto scoffs playfully, “hypothetically, don’t listen to him. we’re definitely doing things properly.”

gojo pouts slightly, feigning disappointment. not because he doesn't think that you don't deserve a proper proposal, but the thought of you being his wife? yeah, he is just getting impatient each second and he feels like he can't wait any longer.

“hypothetically, where’s the fun in that?” he asks jokingly. geto grins, shaking his head at gojo’s antics. “hypothetically, she deserves more than just a rushed elopement, you know.” of course, gojo satoru knows that, but geto also knows that gojo is already planning a whole proposal speech, the venue, the flowers, everything, he just love teasing his boyfriend.

gojo rolls his eyes, clearly enjoying the banter. “hypothetically, can’t i just pull out a ring right now and propose?” geto laughs, clearly amused by the idea, “hypothetically, do it then, coward.”

gojo bristles slightly at geto’s challenge, his competitive nature now provoked. “hypothetically, watch me,” he retorts, his eyes narrowing mischievously. geto grins even wider, clearly enjoying the exchange, “hypothetically, i’m waiting.” gojo stares at you for a moment, contemplating going through with the hypothetical proposal.

you look at gojo with a playful smile, wiggling your eyebrows encouragingly. “hypothetically, well, come on then,” you tease, “show me what you’ve got.”

gojo grins at your response, his confidence now fully reignited. he clears his throat and sits up, get on one knee in a dramatic fashion. “hypothetically,” he begins, his voice suddenly serious, “princess, the light of our lives... i have a question for you.” geto, who’s watching the scene unfolding with much anticipation, smirks, leaning his head on his hand as he watches gojo intently.

you chuckle softly at gojo's dramatic setup, thoroughly amused by his ‘hypothetical’ proposal. “hypothetically, i have the answer,” you tease, your smile widening as you prepare to hear his grand gesture.

gojo grins, clearly feeding off your playfulness. he takes a brief moment to gather his thoughts, looking uncharacteristically nervous for someone who’s only hypothetically proposing. “hypothetically,” he continues, his voice only slightly shaky, “would you do me the honor of marrying me?” geto, still observing silently, raises an eyebrow, clearly impressed by gojo’s ability to be genuine and dramatic at the same time.

you smile widely, your eyes twinkling with affection as you respond. “hypothetically, yes, i would,” you say softly, your tone filled with warmth and sincerity. your hand gently rests on gojo’s, as if sealing the hypothetical promise with a touch.

gojo's heart soars at your response, a wide grin overtaking his features. he laces his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand gently in return.

geto, having observed the entire exchange, can’t help but chuckle quietly. “hypothetically,” he chimes in, his tone laced with amusement, “that was more romantic than i was expecting from this idiot.” gojo glares slightly at geto but then grins sheepishly.

“hypothetically,” gojo retorts, “i can be romantic when i want to be.” geto scoffs lightly, shaking his head in amused disbelief, “hypothetically, no one’s going to believe that after seeing how you act every day.” gojo rolls his eyes but can’t deny the truth in geto’s words. he turns his attention back to you. “hypothetically, you were impressed though, right princess?”

you smile playfully, enjoying the banter between geto and gojo. “hypothetically, i'm always impressed by you, baby,” you tease, pinching his cheek gently. gojo puffs out his chest slightly, clearly loving the attention. geto rolls his eyes again, but there’s a hint of fondness in his expression. “hypothetically,” geto chimes in again, his tone more serious this time, “does this mean i get a turn too?”

you chuckle softly, your eyes dancing with mischief. “hypothetically, is this the only proposal i’m ever going to get, or is there going to be another one?” you ask, your tone playful yet teasingly curious.

gojo looks sheepish, his face flushing slightly as if caught. he glances at geto who’s grinning widely, clearly enjoying the banter. “hypothetically,” geto responds, his voice filled with mock seriousness, “i would never disrespect our future wife by not properly asking her to marry me.”

gojo huffs but there’s a hint of amusement in his expression. “hypothetically,” he adds, his tone slightly pouty, “i thought we agreed on doing this together.” geto looks at gojo with a mix of amusement and mock annoyance. “hypothetically, you’re already carrying the ring, idiot,” he says, a huff playing on his lips. “and hypothetically, you’ve been holding onto it for months.”

gojo’s eyes widen, his expression turning guilty as if being caught in a lie. he scratches the back of his head sheepishly, clearly realizing that geto’s right.

“hypothetically,” he mutters, his voice is sheepish, “i was waiting for the right moment...” geto laughs, clearly enjoying getting a rise out of gojo. “hypothetically, you were being a chickenshit.”

your eyes widen in shock as you process what geto just revealed. you sit up, staring at gojo with a mix of surprise and disbelief. “hypothetically, what?!” you exclaim, your voice tinged with astonishment.

gojo and geto freeze, their faces flushing as they realize the surprise has been unintentionally spoiled. gojo stumbles over his words, clearly flustered, “hypothetically, ups..”

[giuseppe-yuki]

naps

lando norris x ferret shapeshifter!reader

w.c.: 2.2k

warnings: none :)

part of my shapeshifting!reader series

summary: lando's late night streaming causes you to be real tired the next day...

picture credits from pinterest :)

it was currently three freaking AM in your monaco apartment, but your boyfriend was not where he was supposed to be. instead of being curled up next to you in your ridiculously big bed buried under at least five layers of blankets with the ac blasting, he was in his streaming room yelling about “cream coming out of his chick” to angryginge (you supposed he was playing fortnite, and not some other weird game). for the second time in the last five minutes, his voice echoes across the spacious apartment. 

“YOU TWAT, GET OUT MY WAY!” 

it wouldn’t be surprising if you woke up in the morning with noise complaints from the neighbors, a sleep deprived lando, and a telling-off by your boyfriend’s pr manager for showing up to media day halfway-asleep. you were super tired as well, but lando seemed to unknowingly choose the second that your eyes fluttered shut to yell at the top of his lungs. rubbing your eyes, you get up from the bed, slide on your slippers, and shove your phone into your pj shorts’ built in pocket. 

as you shuffle closer to lando’s streaming room, his voice gets impossibly louder. 

“HE’S OVER THERE!! THAT WAY!!”

you think you can hear angryginge’s voice through the door from lando’s gaming headphones, which are probably turned up way too loud. 

“WHERE??? WHERE IS THERE MATE??” 

you roll your eyes, and get ready to turn the doorknob to storm into the room, but decide at the last second that it’s probably not a good idea. the creased pjs from rolling around the bed while waiting for lando to end stream plus your worn-out slippers probably made you look like a mess. thinking, you come up with a quick solution. you could crawl into the room in your ferret form- it was probably easier to enter the room without being spotted by fans on the stream and you also get extra cuteness points that would help you convince lando to come to bed. 

you crack open the lando’s streaming door for easier access and place your phone on the ground to avoid getting squished (you knew that from experiences after being squashed one too many times by your phone). after shifting into your ferret form, you slip through the crack in the door and scamper towards lando. 

the screen in front of him acts like the only light source in the room, aside from the led sign on his wall. it casts a glowy halo of light on him in the darkness of the room that makes him look ethereal. you stop in your tracks for just a moment to admire him, except the moment is immediately ruined when a shrill scream erupts from his mouth- this time cursing an opponent for killing him. it was a wonder that your eardrums hadn’t exploded yet. 

you climb up his chair and plop yourself in his lap, glaring at him with your tiny round eyes. 

noticing your presence on his lap, his eyes widen. he immediately whispers a hurried “one moment!” to ginge and his stream, and turns off his camera and microphone. 

“baby! are you okay? what’s wrong?” he asks, using one hand to stroke your fur.

the calm voice that lando was talking to you now was vastly different from the wild, screaming side of him that he showed his twitch chat. you reach your paws outward, as if beckoning for a hug. he complies, softly squeezing you into his chest and smothering you in his quadrant hoodie that just smelled like him. after years of dating him, you still got giggly after he gave you the best hugs ever. it makes you feel so content that you almost forget your mission of dragging him back to bed. quickly, you jump off of his lap and land with your four feet on the ground. lando turns his gaming chair towards you, this time to find you standing there, still in your wrinkled pjs, with a frown on your face. 

“lando,” you say slowly, “you promised you would go to bed soon! i waited at least two hours in bed! not only that, you were yelling so loud, i bet even charles could hear you from two blocks down! besides, you do have media day tomorrow, and we all know your pr manager is going to be pissed if you show up with no energy like last time!”

glancing at the clock, he realized that you were right. it was pretty late. 

he runs his hand through his rowdy curls, and flashes you an apologetic smile. “i’m sorry, i genuinely forgot about the time,” he explains. “let me shut down everything really quick.”

under your watchful eye, he apologizes for the sudden end to stream, says bye to ginge, and shuts down his pc and and monitors. you’re still frowning when he finally turns back towards you. 

“come on baby, i said i was sorry!” he exclaims, pouting. then, a grin flashes across his face. “why don’t i carry you back to bed?” 

to that, you finally crack a smile. 

once he carries your squealing body back into the bedroom, you find yourself again alone on your bed waiting for lando. he was probably washing his face and brushing his teeth, judging from the sound of running water. you pull out your phone to find to find a text from lance stroll’s girlfriend, a good friend that you made when you attended one of your first races back then as lando’s partner. 

hey, what r u doing up? i saw your online bubble on tiktok like two seconds ago, lmao! u do know we have media day tomorrow right?

you quickly text back a response, 

i was gonna go to bed early but lando was streaming and forgot about the time.. you know i can’t sleep when he's yelling at the top of his lungs. anyways, what are you doing up at this godforsaken hour???

you adjust the blankets around you, and listen as lando hums a tune from inside the bathroom. when you check your phone, you see that she has already texted you back. 

yeah girl, i get you. lance always starts raging at his monitor when he plays his video games 🙄 no but i was up because my bf was literally online shopping till like five minutes ago! like, what are you buying that is so important it needs to be bought now?? its almost four am, istg we are going to be so sleepy in the paddock tomorrow!

the sound of lando shutting the door of the bathroom makes you hurry to type back a response.

omg, maybe he’s buying you that limited edition birkin you told me you were eyeing a couple of days ago! but yeah, we should get to bed. goodnight!

after hitting send, you shut off your phone and throw it onto the nightstand just as lando climbs into bed, now dressed in a worn-in tee that looks like its seen better days and comfy pj pants. He turns off the light using the switch next to him, and places a kiss on your forehead. “goodnight!” he whispers quietly into your ear. you turn around and hold him close to you, burying your head into his chest yet again. “goodnight,” you whisper back. 

if you closed your eyes for more than two seconds, you felt like you were going to fall asleep. the sun shined brightly in the monaco paddock, but it just felt like it was hurting your eyeballs on purpose as it pierced through your shaded sunglasses perched on the bridge of your nose. honestly, you didn’t know how lando did it. he looked energized and ready to go with his freshly moussed curls and bright smile, not a hint of tiredness on his face. it seemed you looked as tired as you felt, because as you walked through the paddock, not only did max offer you a redbull, but charles also tried giving you a celsius, much to the dismay of lando (he not-so-gently slapped the drinks out of their hands, as mclaren was sponsored by monster, and he did not want to cause a pr disaster). 

you stumble into the mclaren hospitality five minutes later, clutching to lando’s arm for dear life. laughing, he starts dragging you to his driver’s room, which had a comfy sofa that you could probably nap for a bit on. 

before he could get too far, oscar passes by, casting a few concerning glances at your exhausted figure shuffling behind lando. 

“err, is your girlfriend alright, mate?” he shoots at lando, eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

you answer for your boyfriend. “yeah, yeah, i’m fine, thanks for asking. it’s just that lando was streaming until like, three am last night, and so i didn’t get a wink of sleep before having to wake up and get ready!” 

oscar’s face morphs into one of amusement. “lando! how could you do that to her?” he gasps dramatically in a joking manner. he then flashes you a smile. “i’m just making sure you’re all good. honestly, if you didn’t tell me that lando was streaming though, i would have assumed it was because you guys were getting  𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 last night or something.”

both you and lando’s mouths drop open. “oscar!” you exclaim, as lando throws a nearby empty cup at oscar’s head. 

oscar expertly dodges the cup and cackles and he runs away. 

lando quickly guides you to his drives room, and makes sure to get you a can of monster, which you crack open and take a sip of before promptly passing out cold on the couch. 

you open your eyes an hour and a half later, to lando softly shaking you. 

“yes?” you say, rubbing your sleepy eyes. 

“so, my pr manager wants me to head out now for the pr videos and interviews. i just wanted to let you know,” he explains.

you grab you bag and stand up quickly, intending to follow lando out the door. you didn’t come all the way to the paddock to sleep in lando’s drivers room- you were here to support your boyfriend, even if he was just recording boring videos for the team youtube channel or talking to a reporter about past race results. 

“what are you doing?” lando says, brows scrunching. “i thought you were tired? you don’t have to go with me to media day?” 

“no, i want to be out there to support you,” you counter, “besides, i can sleep later.” you let out a big yawn that kind of destroys your argument. 

lando laughs, seeing you yawn. “i can tell you are still sleepy…continue your nap, it’s okay! there will always be another media day you can come support me at!”

adamant, you shake your head. “no, i’d really like to come with you.”

your boyfriend thinks for a second, blinking his aquamarine eyes at you. “why dont…you shift into your ferret form and sleep in my hoodie? that way you can still take your nap and be there supporting me- but more like emotional support.” 

you nod once. “deal!”

that’s how you find yourself buried inside lando’s quadrant hoodie pocket as he walks through the paddock. you feel each jostle of his body as he walks through the paddock. his fingers toy with your fur mindlessly. you smell the comforting scent of his cologne mixed with the slight scent of burnt rubber and oil of the circut. you surprising stay awake as he babbles on to a reporter about the updates on the car over the weekend or when he is quizzed on his top three favorite foods with oscar. it’s only when he sits down and is forced to sign a hundred fan merch when you finally fall into beauty sleep.

“OMG OSCAR???” screams lando, jolting you from deep sleep and almost deafening you. why is that lando always manages to disrupt your sleep because of his screaming problem?

you hear lando’s voice above you again. “oscar, i genuinely think i lost my girlfriend! i don’t know where she is! i checked my driver’s room and literally the entire paddock, but i can’t find her!” he says, worriedly.

is this guy serious? you think, bewildered. how can he possibly drive one of the fastest cars in the world but not remember that he put his own girlfriend in his pocket before media and pr? you think its probably because the lack of sleep was catching up to him. 

you are jostled around more forcefully in his pocket as he starts what you think is sprinting around the paddock. 

you hear oscar next to your boyfriend, running next to him. “well, i have no idea where she is either?? the last time i remember seeing her was in the motorhome where you were dragging her to your driver’s room?” 

hearing this, lando skids to a stop. “OMG WAIT?!” he shouts. you feel his hand reach into his hoodie pocket next to you. 

before his hand can touch you though, you stick your head out of the pocket and lando, who has relief written all over his face. you snap your teeth towards lando’s outstretched fingers that were starting to reach for you. 

oscar shoots an exasperated look at lando. “mate, you had me sprinting around the whole paddock. no way you forgot your freaking girlfriend was literally in your pocket.”

taglist: @ilivbullyingjeongin @ale-522 @formula1-motogpfan @aceyalonso @my0hmary

@mbappebby @rakshatos @heartsforleclerc @papaya-twinks @madkohi

[stursweet]

PLAY

pairing : matt sturniolo x f!reader

warnings : sexual content - the usual 😊 fuck off if u ain’t fuckin!!! (subish matt?)

an: hi sexies💖 take this as my apology for taking so long of a break. i’m back and y’all bout to be real sick of me and my dumb ass ALL OVER AGAIN!🤗🤗🤗 i love you guys! send me some new reqs!! also PLEASE recognize i fist fought my fuckin demons and wrote some matt instead of babygirlchris because all y’all fuckin matt girls.. IM PUTTIN YALL FIRST!😔

his room is dim, though bright enough to illuminate him perfectly - hair wild and messy beneath his headset, hips sunk low in his chair, fingers fidgeting wildly with his controller.

it’s been two hours since he’d sat down and begun to play - your patience dwindling rapidly. from your spot on his bed, he looked sinful : so focused, so tantalizing..

his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek. the veins that danced throughout his arms and hands. his lips and their taunting tone of pink. the small pepper of color across his cheeks-

temptation wins and you’re padding over to him without much thought. his eyes don’t leave the screen, though, even with your new sudden placement - standing alongside his chair, clad in his shirt and a thong.

“you okay?” he questions without looking at you, his voice dripping with rasp and honey. you don’t respond - only lowering onto your knees in front of him, in between his legs. he looks down at that- eyes widening, blood traveling to rest in his cheeks.

“i- what are y-?” he stammers, hands fidgeting against the controller aimlessly with sudden nerve. you look up, meeting his gaze, taking note of the intense pink of his cheeks.

“nothing. keep playing,” you reply blandly, peering up from your spot below him. he swallows, evidently flustered. reluctantly, he nods- hesitantly tearing his eyes away from you to look back at the screen.

watching in amusement as his hands shake slightly with his controller, you bring a slow hand up and place it on his thigh : dragging your palm up the surface of his sweatpants slowly.

his eyes shoot down to you once again, focused on your hand inching farther up his thigh. he attempts to put his controller down; intending to direct his full attention to you, but- he’s interrupted by your voice below him :

“keep playing or i’ll stop.” you spit, voice unrelenting. he shudders, scanning your features for a moment, inhaling shakily before nodding.

he forces his eyes to dart to the screen in front of him, the light emanating a soft blue light onto his features. he swallows, adams apple bopping beneath the skin in his throat.

you continue the slow hike of your hand, suddenly reaching to palm him over his sweats. you watch as his face contorts in pleasure - eyes fluttering closed, eyebrows gently crinkling. he does his best to recover quickly, thumbing at a few buttons on his controller.

sliding your hand up some more, you play your fingertips at the waistband of his boxers, dipping a finger beneath the fabric and tracing a single, slow line against his skin. his breathing has become more erratic, his fingers fumbling against the controller.

“please- don’t tease- ” he whispers, eyes trained onto your hand at his waistband. his voice is small and raspy, laced with need.

“doesn’t look like you’re playing, baby..” you reply, retracting your hand from its spot, “i’m gonna have to stop.” you pout, voice teasing and low. you watch amused as he begins to frantically shake his head “no” -

“no-no, i’ll play, i-i’m playing, swear, i’m playing. keep going, please?” he chokes, small cracks in his tone. after a few seconds of no touch or reaction from you, he speaks again -

“please, i’ll b-be so good, so good for you. promise-“

he’s cut off by your hand returning to its previous spot, only now reaching further underneath the fabric, swiping your thumb against his tip and collecting his precum. a shaky exhale escapes his lips. you take note of his eyes staying attached to the screen - he’s listening.

“gonna stay quiet?” you question, watching as he nods his head in desperation. stroking him slowly, you tug off his boxers and sweats in a swift motion.

he looks down at you, eyes hooded and cheeks flushed, his breathing sporadic and wild. your eyes flicker to the screen, cocking your head towards it, signaling for him to focus.

“sorry, sorr-“ he whines, a whimper catching in his throat. he directs his attention to the screen again, pleasure etched into his features. you watch his hands struggle with the controller, pressing your tongue flat against him and licking a long stripe up his length.

he swallows, closing his eyes. you watch him fight to keep his composure, trying his hardest to concentrate on the screen, to listen to you- struggling wildly.

his eyes open again and on the screen, you slip his tip into your mouth - pushing yourself farther to take him the whole way down your throat, and back up. quiet whines whines escape his lips, fighting to stay quiet. you repeat the slow action a few times, pulling off with a pop.

“fuck-“ he stutters, mouth falling agape and eyes closing when you take him back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks.

his fingertips are suddenly in your hair, grabbing a fistful - in need of something to grab on to. pulling off, you’re quick to remind him -

“play,” you whisper, a trail of saliva connected from his tip to your lips. he throws his head back in frustration, a sinful whine escaping his throat.

“can’t,” he whispers, voice cracking. he retracts his hand from your hair and rests it aimlessly on the controller - only to not entirely disobey your wishes. his game has already been lost, though - his eyes tightly shut and head rested on the back of his chair.

“thought you were going to be good?” you question, but only to hear him plead his case - the game has been pushed from your mind. you want his hands in your hair, his begs and cries to release into your mouth.

“look at me,” you coo, tongue swirling around his tip, stroking him quickly with your hand. he’s slick with your saliva. his eyes dart down to you, quickly tossing the controller onto the desk in front of him.

his eyes are dark, his pupils blown out - lips a dark, wet pink. blood dances underneath his cheeks, his breathing heavy and erratic. he looks perfect- deliciously desperate and absolutely ruined.

“want it all over my face,” you tell him, sliding your tongue over his slit. a sinful moan slips from his throat, his eyes falling shut.

“i’m- im so close, so cl-“ he fights to speak, cut off by you taking him entirely into your mouth again, bopping your head at quickly.

his fingertips tangle into your hair once again, a large handful beneath his palm - he tightens his grip, a few more whimpers and cries escaping his lips before letting go:

“i’m cumming, i’m-“

the words spill from his mouth so sweet, tone quiet and cracking, entirely at your mercy. you pull off of him quickly, stroking him with your hand as his release shoots out in hot, white spurts : covering your cheeks, lips, and chin.

you watch as he catches his breath, chest heaving and mouth agape. after a few moments, he gains a bit of composure, and looks down at you.

you smile at him, wiping your face clean with your fingers and popping them into your mouth. he watches with his lip between his teeth, cheeks impossibly redder.

you stand up, giving him a few small, soft kisses on the lips.

“come to bed?”

[elaofarc]

oh-honey-moon | NANAMI K.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝⭒ content; —mdni. husband!nanami. honeymoon shenanigans. face sıttıng. pūssy eating. spıttıng and slappıng mentioned only once. f!orgāsm.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝⭒ word count; —4k

๋࣭ ⭑⚝⭒an; —i planned this to be something soft and all about married life, but here i am, providing you with this. this is all i got so please praise me, thanks. ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

Nanami's brows furrowed involuntarily, if he was aware of his own expression he'd definitely hide it. His index finger tapping a restless rhythm on his crossed arms while his eyes heavily rest upon your figure, standing on the chair in front of your laptop, he finds all of this even more annoying. Despite his attempt at a distant demeanor, the audible tap of his foot on the carpeted floor betrays his impatience—even though you can't catch the way he stomps the floor, it's still there. It almost seems as if he is unconsciously trying to divert your attention from your work, his looming shadow casting a presence behind you as he hovers over your seated form—if you were aware of him, you'd probably be laughing and finding it endearingly cute how demanding he is. The sense of neglect gnaws at him even though he knows that you're not doing this on purpose, it's a result of your relentless dedication to your work that keeps you apart. This is supposed to be your honeymoon, for goodness' sake, and yet here you are, still engrossed in tasks at one o'clock in the morning even though you can handle them very well when you get back. Nanami grapples with his reluctance to voice his concerns, fearing he might come across as overly needy if he is to express how overlooked he is feeling right now. Leaning in close, he rests his head against your shoulder in silence, his hands sneaking underneath his own shirt that's completely oversized for you, tenderly tracing circles on your stomach as he breathes in your scent deeply, a low, guttural sound escaping his lips. "Bed, love, now," he urges firmly, his voice carrying a blend of longing and insistence as he speaks.

If you knew that you'd have a doting husband, a happy marriage and a shitload of money; maybe you wouldn't think money was the most important thing in life during your teenage years. Money meant everything for you, probably because of how you experienced your parents' stress about not having enough income to get by. So, that's why you chose a job like this. Your job wouldn't recognize holidays or off-days; even though you mainly work from home, you're just constantly on your laptop, phone and tablet.

You know that you promised to never touch any work related thing during your honeymoon, yet, the paycheck is good, and you just can't slack off. When Nanami's big and strong arms sneak up on you, his veiny hand on your stomach under your shirt and his forehead on your shoulder; you softly chuckle without peeling your eyes from the bright screen. "I know, baby," you murmur, fingers typing the words out at an inhumane speed. "I will be in bed, give me a min."

Nanami exhales with a frown, his warm breath fanning your neck. He's upset that you prioritized the laptop instead of him. He places a gentle squeeze on your soft stomach, and his hands slowly slide underneath your loose t-shirt, causing your skin to tingle from the feeling of his warm, large hands.

"It's two in the morning. We both know you've been working your ass off while we were supposed to be enjoying our honeymoon." His voice is hoarse and low.

And he is right and you can't deny it; this is your honeymoon. What kind of an asshole works on their honeymoon? Well, definitely not Nanami, but you sound like you fit the type. With a soft sigh escaping your lips, you give in. Yeah, this work and the deadline are definitely not your problems, especially not now. You can deal with them once you get back from your honeymoon.

So, you gently lean back closer to your husband, feeling the warmth of his touch envelop you as you close your eyes and rest the back of your head against the crook of his neck—right where his shoulder meets the curve of his neck, right where you fit perfectly. "I'm sorry," you whisper, your arms wrapping around Nanami's arms even though his strong hold has already crept under your oversized t-shirt the moment he approached you. "You're right, I'm being an annoying workaholic. I'll deal with it later."

A small smirk appears on Nanami's features as you lean back against him with a murmured apology. He releases a deep purr when you rest your head against his neck where you fit seamlessly. He places a tender kiss on the sensitive part, his large hands gently rubbing your warm stomach.

"Mm," he hums in acknowledgment and presses another kiss on your shoulder. "No need to apologize. I just wish you'd stop treating the job as a priority over your own well-being," he whispers, his chest rising and falling against your back.

One of the thin straps of your top slides down to your shoulder since Nanami shuffles a lot while holding you, embracing you; or more like caging you in between those strong arms. His thick biceps and veiny hands... you would've never expected him to be this muscular underneath those expensive suits. Everytime he kisses you, it has a fuzzy and warm feeling to it; filling you up to the brim with such intense emotions.

You slightly turn your head around to face him, and you're glad that those dark-circles are long gone. He used to be the same workaholic as you, but after starting to date you, he made you his priority. You place a kiss to where you can reach, under his jawline. His warmth and scent make you dizzy as you let out a content sigh. "I'll do better from now on," you murmur, feeling all too pliant enveloped by his embrace. "I love you. Let's get back to bed, hm?"

Nanami's sharp ears catch your response and he releases a deep, satisfied groan at the vow you made. His lips gently touch each side of your shoulder, and then he leans into your touch when you place a kiss along his jawline.

"I know you will," he murmurs back, his tone filled with a warm affection. He presses one final kiss behind your ear before he slowly withdraws, tugging you away from the desk and in the direction of the bed. He gently guides you towards the comfortable sheets, a quiet anticipation present in his eyes.

You leave the big chair placed in front of the big desk in your suite hotel room, tall windows let the most of the light cast upon the vast room. It's really dark outside except for the faint city lights coming from the distance. The bed is placed in the middle as a classic; two bedside drawers on each side of the bed while the sliding door to the balcony is on the left side of the room. The room has everything in it, and you think that you can stay inside this room during your whole stay here.

With your hand getting lost in Nanami's veiny, big hand, you follow him to the bed. His t-shirt looks like it can fit two more of you in it, your hair is messy since you've interrupted your own sleep with your work. The sheets are messy, too, both of you shuffle a lot during your sleep. You immediately plop yourself onto the bed, and Nanami's scent mixed with yours makes you close your eyes and bask in it. God—you truly love him.

"Better?"

Nanami releases a gentle hum as he settles into the plush mattress, wrapping his strong arm around your waist, his thick biceps flexing under your touch. His other arm beneath your head finds a home in your hair, gently stroking and playing with the soft strands. His chest rises and falls underneath you with each breath, and his muscular body radiates a heat that seeps into you. His fingers glide over your skin, drawing invisible patterns on his chest as you do the same to him.

He chuckles softly at your question, the sound reverberating deep in his chest. "Much better," he murmurs, his voice a low and soothing rumble. "You have no idea how good that feels, love."

You feel drowsy, probably due to the warmth that seeps into your body from Nanami. It's already pretty late, too, so it's only natural for your eyelids to feel heavier and heavier as you listen to his deep and raspy voice. Even when he talks in a low tone, his voice shakes you to your core—full of tenderness and love for you. You pull back slightly to look at his face, his sharp features appearing softer than ever under the faint lights coming from the tall windows. You can't help but softly laugh; his eyes are closed but he's not sleeping, you know that. "I bet it feels good," you say, fingertips gently tracing the outline of his face. "What's up with you tonight? You're extremely clingy, I'm surprised."

A small smile creeps onto Nanami's chiseled features as your fingertips gently trace the contours of his face. He opens his eyes and meets your gaze, his expression filled with an intense and burning desire. He shifts his body to face you and captures your hand, intertwining your fingers with his own. His thumb strokes the back of your hand, the touch gentle yet firm. "Am I?" he asks with a hint of amusement. "Perhaps I've been craving your presence," he murmurs, leaning in to steal a tender kiss from your lips.

It's always an intense feeling whenever your eyes meet his, and it'll always be like that, very likely. As if you're not his wife and just a girl who has a crush on him, you always get the need to avert your gaze when his strong gaze catches your eyes. With your eyes that shine like a sky adorned with stars, always reflecting what you feel even without trying—Nanami doesn't have to ask you questions to know what or how you feel, he already knows by staring into your eyes. All of it feels suffocatingly warm and fuzzy after you pull back from the kiss, and you realize this is where you've always wanted to be. "Oh, you definitely are," you murmur, fingers habitually finding their places in his soft hair. "I like this side of you, a lot."

A low sound almost like a groan resonates deep within Nanami's chest as you tangle your fingers through his hair, his eyes closing involuntarily in relaxation at your touch. His muscular frame is pressed close to yours, his heat wrapping around you like a warm, comforting blanket. He nuzzles his face into the nook of your shoulder, his lips pressing gently against the sensitive skin with a tender kiss.

"Good," he murmurs softly, his voice low and husky with affection. "Because I plan on being extra clingy."

The way your bodies act on their own with a magnetic force whenever they touch has always been mind-blowing for you, really. Whenever Nanami wraps his arms around your waist, your body presses against him on its own. Whenever his hand cups your cheek, you nuzzle against his big hand. Whenever his lips find solace in the nook of your sensitive neck, your head drops back to give him more room—almost as if you're completely offering yourself to him.

"Oh?" You murmur softly, eyebrows raising slightly as you can't hold in the chuckle escaping your lips. "How so? You're spoiling me too much, I might get addicted and demand more and more."

A low groan vibrates within Nanami's throat when you tilt your head back, giving him access to your sensitive neck. His lips gently press against your exposed skin, planting languid and wet kisses along the curve of your shoulder, causing chills to ripple down your spine. His palm rests against your cheek, his thumb caressing the smoothness beneath his touch. "You have no idea the things you do to me," he whispers, almost inaudibly. "Well, if you ask me; you deserve to be spoiled like a goddess."

"Besides," he whispers again, his voice husky and seductive, "Is that such a bad thing?" He pauses his affections for a moment and gently nibbles on your earlobe, his warm breath grazing your skin.

"I quite like indulging your every whim."

"Ah," you sweetly whisper back, eyes closing in tranquility as you softly smile. Nanami is always taken aback by your beauty, everytime he sees you it feels like it's his first time seeing you. His heart never fails to flatter in his chest just by seeing you; rather you are reading a book while cozily curled up in a couch, or furrowing in front of your laptop, or embraced in his arms like this, you are always a sight for sore eyes. "The addicting high of being turned into a brat by my very beloved husband," you say, the slightest sly smirk spreading across your face.

"You're a handful," he responds, amusement laced in his voice as he gently tugs on your earlobe with the slightest bit of teeth, his grip on you growing firmer. His large hand gently squeezes your waist, pulling your body even closer to his. Every inch of your body is pressed against his, his heat and weight enveloping your form tightly like fine linen. Nanami continues his ministrations on your neck, his tongue lightly trailing along the column of your throat, his warm, skilled mouth gently nipping at your sensitive skin. His sharp teeth playfully graze you, creating tantalizing sensations that send electricity humming through your body. "How did I fall in love with you? You're driving me insane," he teases, and it only fuels that sly smirk plastered across your beautiful face.

The warmth enveloping you turns into something hotter, even heavier when you feel Nanami's teeth coming in contact with the sensitive skin of your neck. With your eyes closed, you let out a pleased hum—and that's probably all he needs from the very beginning, to be honest. You find yourself straddling his lap, your body being moved with such ease by his strong hands as he places you on top of his own body. You're stimulated by how he feels underneath you; ready to give you everything you ask for and more. Feeling him pressed against you has your head spinning as he slightly gets up from the bed, getting into a sitting position as his lips leave no place on your skin untouched. He explores you as if he never did that before, and you find yourself needily clawing at his back. "Nanami," you breathlessly whimper his name, head thrown back as it gets harder and harder to sit still. His large, talented hands roam your body with a possessive need, his touch leaving trails of heat and desire in its wake. He moves with purpose, gently pinning your hips down onto his clothed lap, preventing your squirming body from escaping his heated touch.

Nanami's breath catches in his throat as your fingers dig into his back, the sound of his name falling from your lips like a sultry melody. He can hear the slight strain in your voice, the need evident in your tone. His own body responds involuntarily, a low groan rippling through him as he presses closer. His heart races, pounding against the confines of his chest, as his lips explore every inch of your body with a mix of passion and reverence. His hands hold you firmly against his body, supporting you as you sit on his lap. But as you claw at his back, trying to get even closer to him, he can feel himself unraveling. Feeling your thighs squeezing, his fingers grip your skin, his breathing grows ragged. "So pretty," he groans against your neck. "You sound so pretty, love."

Nanami's mouth trails a path down to your collarbone, his kisses alternating between gentle and possessive. With hungry need, he worships every inch of your skin like a hopeless devotee. He revels in your reaction—the way your back arches and your voice trembles. His breath is hot and heavy against your skin. "Hm?" comes his low, gravelly voice, a sound full of desire. "You like it, don't you?" he asks, his hands gently lifting your shirt up. Your bodies practically molding together, you feel yourself suddenly growing needy, desperate to be touched and explored even more. The hungry kisses and determined bites to your skin feel like they don't do enough justice to your burning body—you relish in the way his big hands sneak under the oversized t-shirt you stole from him, causing the hair on your nape to stand up in its wake. "Yeah," you breathlessly reply without wasting a second, head nodding with a little bit too much craving.

The thin fabric feels unnecessary as Nanami worships every inch of your skin within his reach, probably saving what's underneath the pieces of clothing for the last. You grow impatient, body slightly jolting forward when his big hands cover the whole small of your back. "Nanami, please," you whimper, eyebrows furrowing as it gets almost impossible to stop yourself from grinding against him. You feel your shorts getting wet, and it's kind of embarrassing—just by being kissed... Your body tenses, pussy begging for any kind of friction as you feel him growing hard in his sweatpants. If you could just—if you could, God, it'd solve all your current problems if you could just grind against his growing erection. With a low groan, he pulls you closer. "Look at me," he commands, his breath hot against your skin. "Please what?" he whispers. "You need to tell me exactly what you want, love." His hands slide from your back to your hips, slowly guiding you closer and bringing your body in contact with the hardness growing beneath him. All his words are barely a whisper, but the deep tone of his voice tells of his own desperations.

A sound like a soft, broken soft falls from your lips as Nanami shifts in his place, sliding down to lay on his back completely—he bucks his hips up, and it doesn't help. It rips another delicious moan from you, body jolting in his lap again as you hold onto his thick biceps for support; nails digging into his skin. "Don't be mean," you whine, lips pouting momentarily. "You know what I want."

"Do I?" His response is breathless as his big hands hold onto your hips, helping you grind against him, practically riding him through the fabric of these annoying clothes as your body slightly trembles. "Yeah," you immediately reply, eyes getting glossy since the vast suite feels smaller, hotter than ever. Your fingers find the waistband of Nanami's sweatpants, eager to free him from it, yet he holds your hand—causing it to get lost in his big palm. You realize that his hands are actually cold, but it burns when he touches your skin. "Careful," he warns, voice low and husky as he stares into your eyes—his usual neat hair is messy, some strands falling over his forehead, it looks fluffier and softer than usual. "I'm in charge here."

You part your lips to protest, but it’s cut before you even have the chance when Nanami softly smacks your ass with one hand—urging you to lift yourself off from his lap, to inch closer to his face. “Go on,” he says, causing your breath to hitch in your throat as you feel nailed to where you are. “Come on, doll, don’t make me say it twice.”

When you lift your hips up, Nanami doesn’t waste any second; his fingers hook around the waistband of your poor excuse of shorts, that’s what he’d probably say, and he throws them somewhere. God, he loves it when you don’t wear anything underneath; he’s immediately welcomed by your glistening folds as he pushes you a little bit further, lips parting and brows knitting as soon as he has you pressed against his mouth. Your knees pressed against the bed on both sides of his head, one hand holds onto the head of the bed as the other tugs on Nanami’s messy hair—he’ll be the death of you, that’s for sure. 

“Fuck,” the moan is long and drawn-out as your legs tremble, you’re glad that he’s supporting you with his big hands as the bridge of his nose nuzzles against your clit and his tongue laps at your weeping cunt—everytime your body jerks away from him, he has you pressed against his mouth. His low groans send vibrations throughout your whole body, making you cry in pleasure. “Fuck, Nanami—wait,” you breathlessly protest, feeling like you’re losing a piece of your sanity whenever his lips press kisses to your clit and his tongue delves into your pussy; tasting you and eating you out like a starved man. The slick sounds fill the room, hypnotizing, mixing with your breathless whimper and soft cries as well as Nanami’s deep and muffled groans against your pussy. “Can’t wait,” he replies, as if he’s heard you just now, and his gaze meets your eyes, holding your gaze captive. It gets you even wetter, if that’s possible, causing your juices to drip down to his chin and smear all over your inner thighs as his tongue keeps working on you. 

“Please, if you—fuck, fuck, if you don’t wait, I’m just gonna—,” you avert your gaze, feeling embarrassed by the intensity of his gaze as your vision becomes blurry—you’ve forgotten everything that led up to this. Nanami’s face buried in your pussy, tongue desperately lapping, his nose nuzzling against where you need it the most, hands kneading the soft skin of your thighs as his muffled moans and groans send shivers down to your spine. You feel his body twitching, too, hips bucking into the emptiness, he must be painfully hard—pre-cum leaking, staining his sweatpants as he eats you out. 

Without having the chance to say anything, that coiled up feeling explodes—causing you erratically grind against Nanami’s tongue, probably stealing his air, yet he doesn’t seem like he’s complaining even a bit. As you cum, letting him taste you on his tongue and your juices dripping down to his chin, you softly sob—the intense feeling stealing the breath from your lungs. It takes you some time to come down from your high, slowly keeping up your movement. Nanami serves you like the queen you are, letting you tug on his hair and sticking his tongue out, you even hear him gulp, slick sounds becoming slightly louder.

You finally pull back, sliding down until you’re sitting right on top of his painfully hard and sensitive cock, he hisses when he feels your warmth and wetness even through the fabric of his sweatpants. Your legs tremble, and you’re overly-sensitive, but feeling him growing hard just by having you sitting on his face washes you over with that oh-so-familiar feeling. Mind in a haze, you bring your hand up to your husband’s chin and gather all the wetness smeared all over his mouth and chin before you push your thumb into his mouth. Nanami obliges, parting his lips and sucking your finger clean before he presses a soft kiss to the tip of your finger.

“Nanami,” you let your chest meet with his, your hand trailing down on his body until you reach his cock—he gently takes your hand in his, pressing kisses to your knuckles. “No, love,” he is quick to deny you, more like deny himself, and your eyebrows knit together.

“Huh?” 

“Just wanted to make you feel good,” he says with that hoarse tone of his voice. “Wanted to show you what you missed while spending your hours on that fucking desk and ignoring me.”

Your cheeks get flushed now that you know he has been thinking about this all day, how can you let your husband go to sleep with a painfully hard erection? You kiss his jawline before sliding even lower on the bed, eyes peering through your eyelashes as your head moves lower and lower. “I should apologize appropriately, then,” you murmur, fingers hooking around the waistband of his sweatpants. “That’d be only fair, given the circumstances, right?”

Breathlessly, Nanami chuckles—arm lazily thrown over his eyes for a minute or two before he sits up on the bed, helping you get down on your knees on the ground before grabbing you gently by your chin. “Fuck,” he murmurs, seeing your lips parted apart as you tug on his sweatpants. He leans down, spitting in your mouth as you’ve asked, and a gentle slap across your flushed cheek follows shortly after. “What am I going to do with you?” 

[uc1wa]

18+ minors dni

tags: fem reader, penetrative sex, mentions of oral sex, deception, dubcon, slight perversion

my au where i create timelines and this makes sense ok

geto suguru was always gentle with you in every sense of the word. he never raised his voice at you, always holding a soft tone even in argument. he never snapped at you, never chose a reason to fight, and never found a reason to be upset with you.

suguru was gentle in bed too. when your lips were wrapped around his cock, he never pushed you enough to choke you. instead, he’d softly hold the head of hair you had, never guiding, but holding it there in assurance. when you rode him, he’d help you when your thighs began to burn and you got tired, hands lifting you up and down his length until you found your own sweet pleasure. and when he was overtop of you? he was pressing gentle kisses to your chest despite the way he’d fuck you to the point in which you wouldn’t have a single thought to worry about

suguru was a really good boyfriend.

when he had people to meet that took him into the late hours of the night, he’d be quiet when walking into your bedroom, a small grin leaving his lips as he sees the lights turned off. the only light in the room was coming from the screen of your phone that you were laid in bed, scrolling through.

he changed into pajamas, something he usually wouldn’t do, but he had a long day. finding comfort in a soft pair of pants that you’d bought for him, deciding on a plain black t-shirt to accompany it.

and before you knew it, he was sliding into bed, big arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you into him while he kisses the back of your neck.

"missed you," suguru says, hand hesitating a moment before creeping under your shirt to rub your tummy, trying to get a touch of every inch of skin he was able to on your abdomen.

and you felt it from the moment his body made contact with yours, he was hard and you let out a laugh. "i can tell," you speak, and suguru let’s out a deep laugh, continuing to kiss the outline of your neck until he’s pressing kisses across your shoulder.

the man knew your body like the back of his hand, knowing where to kiss, where to touch, and how to get you a begging mess in a matter of seconds. but he didn’t want that now, he only wanted to lull you into sleep, fuck you till your brain is only begging for sleep and your eyes, to close.

the soft moans that creep their way between your lips in the quiet hours of night are music to his ears. giving him a green light that he was doing things right, that his hand was allowed to find the waist band of your pajama shorts and that he was allowed to pull them down your thighs.

"gonna make you sleep good, how does that sound, pretty thing?" he says, sliding down his own pants and then moving to find your entrance. your soft moan of approval against your pillow case makes suguru smile. you really were pretty.

his hand moved to find your wetness, running a finger from your clit and down to your entrance, moving back to rub circles into the bud that has your legs trembling. suguru appreciated how sensitive you were for him. though, he couldn’t tell if you were sensitive, or he just knew how to reach all the right spots.

he was still learning.

the rough, calloused pad of his finger tip continues rubbing soft and slow circles, aided by the wetness he collected from your heat. and once he hears you moaning out his name, he retracts his hand to take hold of his cock.

he gives a few teasing rubs of his tip against your slit, running it back and forth while it grabs some of your slickness. then in one fluid motion, he’s pushing himself into your hole. slowly, painfully you can feel his head push you open, slow enough that you can feel every inch of his entering your gushy walls that accept him with some effort.

god, suguru loved the sound of your voice. the voice that grew an octave higher, a tone louder as he pushed further and further inside of your tight entrance. it was something that he’d make sure to never forget, bottoming out finally, and sitting there for a second.

his palm holds the skin of your hip that’s exposed from clothing, but still under thick blankets. he allows you to warm his cock, to get a good feeling of his size and length as if it was the first time you’d felt the man in his entirety.

but, whether he was doing it for your pleasure or his, he couldn’t exactly figure out.

"how does that feel, hm? could just sleep like this, baby. let you fall asleep all pretty on my cock, huh? how does that sound," he whispers, lips moving against your earlobe before biting it softly. "squeezing me so good, could fall asleep and dream of that pretty pussy," he says, though it sounds more like a growl from the depth of his voice.

half awake as is, your hand drops your phone against your sheets as you whimper softly at the feeling of your lover bottoming out inside of you. reaching that sweet depth that suguru doesn't have to try to touch, the weight of it as light as a feather as he touches it, the tightness in your stomach coiling as he presses deeply within you.

"need more," you moan out, moving your hips against suguru's backside in an attempt to grind against the man. while the thought of cockwarming the man to sleep didn't seem awful, your tired body was begging for release.

the release that suguru wanted as well as he began lazily fucking himself in your pussy, pulling out and pushing back in without quickness. he wasn't in a hurry, loving the way your heat sucked against his walls.

and even in his slow and pacing movements, the way your pussy pulled his length inwards made wet sounds underneath covers, and the man behind you can only laugh against the soft skin of your neck. "you look so pretty," he kisses your neck, though he hasn't caught an actual glimpse of your face once. only tracing the silhouette of it that the moon was helping illuminate.

and when you begin to turn to face the man, his hand is quick to move from your hip to your jaw, making you face the wall that you had been. "finish first, honey. then you can kiss me all you want," he teases, holding your jaw until your resistance falters with a nod. "close," you whisper as he continues fucking your cunt.

suguru had the ability of finishing as soon as he entered you, the feeling sweet enough for him to fill you with his seed. but he wanted to finish with you.

the hand that holds your jaw moves downwards, sliding under your shirt to squeeze at your breasts, pinching your nipple which elicits groans from you and the clenching of you walls against him. suguru smirks.

"that's my girl," he says. and you appreciate the way he's being more verbal than other times you'd had sex. usually keeping his voice at a minimum to hear you. but, you weren't complaining against the words he breathed into your skin.

his hand moves to your other nipple that hadn't received attention, pinching it before flicking it, and that's when you're pulling all of suguru's seed with your pussy, a mixture of cum filling your pussy. your eyes close, grinding against his length to ride out your high, your hand moving behind you to find suguru's thigh, holding it as your finished your high, coming down and grounding yourself with help of skin that you'd grown accustomed to.

the skin that wasn’t soft, but wasn’t rough. skin that you’d love feeling in intimacy and in public, holding hands and arms.

both of you took breaths, coming down from your high with eyes closed as tired and calmness settled over your bodies.

you’d begun to turn around, chest rising as falling in attempt to catch your breath. grin still spreading across your lips as you turn to face your lover. he was good at what he did, making love to you the sweetest way he knew how to, putting your eyes at rest as they fell half lidded, eager to be filled with sleep instead of him.

it’s only when you’re fully turned, facing suguru that your eyes widen. the moonlight that fell into your room shining on the face you had grown to love, the face you’d pressed kisses to hundreds of times. the face that you fell in love with, the one that was destined to you for life.

the face that had a new scar resting on the forehead of the man you’d called yours. a scar stretching the horizontal expanse of his forehead, a scar that told you one thing and one thing alone.

suguru hadn’t made love to you.

but, kenjaku couldn’t help himself when he had read suguru’s soul. couldn’t help but flash through memories with the pretty lady that had caught both his and suguru’s eyes, apparently. couldn’t help but examine the body you held underneath those pajamas you currently wore.

he couldn’t help himself but to envision you on top of him, the countless times you had fucked yourself against your lover. couldn’t help but to watch all the perverse images that didn’t belong to him.

kenjaku couldn’t help himself when he’d decided to touch you on his own time, as a sort of tribute to the body he was in. the one who’s no longer able to touch you the way it had before.

the body that wasn’t his, capabilities near endless. especially when he’s already got you in front of him.

"what’s wrong, pretty thing? i’m still me."

[aphroditeinthesea]

thanksgiving (2/3)

jason grace x fem!reader ⚡️

a/n this is my first ever smut and it really happened by accident

⚠️ let's just say the turkey's not the only thing getting stuffed on thanksgiving

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

A few hours had passed. Currently they sat together on their couch, her legs stretched over his while his hands were occupied by softly touching her knees, “what time is it?” She asked.

Jason checked his watch, “9:02, why?”

“Oh my gods,” she jumped off of the couch, “the parade.” She grabbed the remote, immediately turning on the TV. She switched the channel to find the screen now showing a large inflatable Hello Kitty.

“What on Earth is that?” The son of Jupiter asked.

She sat back next to him, snuggling into his arms. “That would be the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.”

“What does Hello Kitty have to do with Thanksgiving?”

She widely smiled and her lips lingered onto his jaw, “nothing, that's the beauty of it.”

He kissed the top of her head, “this parade is every year?”

She nodded, “since like the twenties I think.”

“Wow,” his attention shifted from the television and instead focused on the way his girlfriend’s eyes gleamed while watching the parade. He moved one of his hands to run through her hair.

She looked up at him, “hi.”

He leaned down to press a soft kiss to her lips, his right hand tangling in her hair while his left squeezed her thigh. He pulled away to softly whisper against her mouth, “I love you,” his wet lips led their ways to her neck, “so much.” His lips touched her skin again, sending shivers down her spine.

“Baby,” she muttered, causing him to look up at her. The way his eyes bore into hers made her want to forget about dinner all together, “hm, nothing.”

“Sorry, you said you had to check on the turkey-”

“No, no,” she quickly interrupted, “the turkey’s fine. Don't worry about that.”

“Yeah?” He responded, his breath hot against her neck as he pressed his kisses even lower to her collarbone. She could have melted right there.

“Yeah.” She nodded. She sat to straddle his lap, “besides, I think I forgot to make any appetizers.”

His hands grabbed onto her hips, “what’ll we do about that then?”

She giggled, “I have no idea.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, lowering herself on him, “I think I might have saved something for you though.”

“Hm?” She moved her hips, causing him to let out a sigh, “I really hope you mean what I think you do and you're not about to bring out chips and dip.”

She laughed, throwing her head back, “nope.” She pulled off her top and threw it across the room with a smile on her face that only Jason Grace could put there.

“My gods,” he groaned, moving his head to place kisses all over her chest, thanking all of the gods that she decided not to wear a bra, “you're perfect.”

She sighed, moving her head to the side to give him more room, “you're more perfect.”

“Impossible,” he pulled her closer by her waist, “my love,” he muttered as he danced his mouth on her neck, “my love.” He glided his fingers down to the waistband of her pajama pants, sliding his hands in.

“Jase,” she tugged on his shirt, “off, please.”

He smiled and pulled back to rip off his shirt. At the sight of him, she lunged her lips forward to his. He grabbed one of her boobs with his hand while the other slid back into her pants. She gasped as he pinched down with his thumb against her nipple. He proceeded to slide his right hand from the back of her pajama pants to the front, letting them roam onto her now soaked panties.

He brushed over the cloth, eliciting a gasp from her, “please.”

“Please?”

“Jase,” she groaned, hiding her face in his neck.

He smirked and decided to not tease her anymore. He moved her panties to the side. He then gently, slowly rubbed the bud on her core. She moaned at the touch, biting down on his neck.

“Is this what you wanted?” he whispered directly into her ear.

“Yes,” she mumbled.

Two of his fingers continued to slowly rub her clit. Back and forth and back and forth. Finally after what felt like years, one of the fingers slid inside of her.

She groaned and her head was thrown back up, now making eye contact with the blue eyes that held her. He smiled at her while she was trying not to yelp. Her eyebrows creased as he added a second finger inside of her hole.

She held eye contact even as the long fingers curled right here they should. He leaned forward and kissed her open mouth, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Just like that?” He questioned, adding his thumb to rub her clitoris.

She grinded against hand palm, “yes, Jason.”

“Good girl.”

Oh, fuck. She thought as his pace quickened. Her arms that had loosely been hanging by his shoulders, now were gripping the back of the couch.

“My love,” he spoke, “you’re doing so good for me.”

She winced. She opened her mouth to respond, but only a moan came out. She touched her forehead to his as she felt herself approaching. “Jase,” she groaned, “Jase, Jase.”

Just as she felt as though she would release, she suddenly felt emptiness inside her. She huffed, “Jason!”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he responded as he kissed her neck.

She breathed heavily before she stood up. He looked at her confused until she began to shimmy off her pajama pants and panties.

He softly grinned as he watched her and began untying his own pajama pants. She kneeled down in front of him to pull down the pants just enough so that his cock could come out unrestrained. Her lips felt like two pillows to him as they suctioned around his tip. He groaned, holding her hair back into a ponytail shape while her tongue swirled around his length. She licked up and down in a teasing manner.

“You're so big,” she giggled, her voice vibrating against every nerve in his body.

“Gods, baby,” he whimpered. He whimpered. Entirely for her. She felt a heartbeat in her and she immediately leaned away.

He desperately looked at her. She ran her fingers through his hair as she made her way on top of him once more. He held onto his cock to align it with her entrance. She stared into his eyes as she wrapped around him.

Both of their breaths bounced off the walls as he reached further into her. The fact that she was absolutely drenched and the precum leaking out of him, made for him to slip into her pussy entirely too easily, even as she was stretching out for how thick he was.

When she had nearly taken him all in, his hips involuntarily bucked up into her. She nearly screamed while her nails stabbed into his shoulder blades. She pulled herself up then quickly down again.

“Wait,” he tightly held her hips. “You're cooking, let me do this, okay?”

She nodded before he turned the two of them around. Her back against the couch cushions while he kneeled on the edge of the couch. He lined up his cock with her hole again, “are you ready?”

She nodded, feeling him slide into her again. She yelped while he waited for her to adjust to his largeness. “Go,” she begged, her face scrunching from how badly she needed him.

He thrusted back out and hardly back in again, “is that good?”

“Perfect,” she wrapped her legs around his torso to get him closer. He smirked at her, grabbing one of her legs and throwing it over his bicep to get deeper into her with his following thrust.

Her hips met his as she twitched towards him. She was already close to the edge from how he had left her hanging earlier. She felt as though all of her senses were heightened. She could feel every vein surrounding his dick, every drop of sweat that left her body, their combined breathing tainting the oxygen of their apartment. And the noise complaint that was surely coming their way.

Jason panted in front of her. Every few moments grunting as he watched the way his dick completely disappeared inside of her tight pussy. He just couldn't get enough of her.

He looked back up to meet to her eyes, only to see her head rested on the back of the couch. She let out a high pitched moan at each thrust, actually it was more of a squeak from how there was no oxygen left in her lungs. She saw in her peripheral vision, his veiny hand grip the couch just as his pace quickened,

“Jason,” she deeply moaned, “I’m almost,” her head turned to the side. She reached for his hand that wasn't holding the couch to intertwine their fingers together. When he realized what she was doing, a smile grew on his face, motivating him to move faster.

“Come on, love,” he said through wavered breaths, “let it out for me.”

She leaned up to look up at him, her grip on both his shoulder and his hand strengthening. After a few more thrusts, she felt herself turn to jello. She let out a loud moan that definitely secured that noise complaint. But to Jason, it was music to his ears. He felt the way he cock was drowning in her juices and wanted nothing more to soak in all of it.

Alas, he pulled out of her. Slowly and carefully as he knew how sensitive she was currently. She tried to catch her breath, but it was hard with the show in front of her. The blond continued to kneel on the couch, stroking his cock. His hand stayed holding hers while the one that was previously gripping the couch, wrapped around his length. She noticed how his glasses were fogging up while his eyes were tightly shut. She tiredly smiled before she sat up with an idea.

She pulled his glasses off his face and placed them over her eyes. He stopped for a second and looked back at her. He wondered if his heart when he noticed what she had done. How there was not a single article of clothing on her skin, except for his glasses that she proudly wore upon her nose.

“Oh, fuck,” he muttered.

“Keep going,” she spoke softly.

He nodded, quickening his pace on himself. She took his hand that was holding hers and let go of it. She placed his calloused fingers on her boob, letting him squeeze it.

“Where should I..” before he finished his sentence, his cum released, landing on her upper stomach and chest, “sorry,” she smirked, coating some of the semen that had painted her tit on her fingers before sucking them into her mouth. He froze at the sight and crashed next to her on the couch.

She looked at his amazed face that watched her. She took more off of her body, taking three of her fingers that were now frosted in his cum and placing them in his mouth. He gladly licked the taste of himself off of her hand, staring deep into her eyes. All she said in response was, “appetizers.”

[ichore]

tags: nanami kento x afab!reader, smut, reader is a simp for rin itoshi

synopsis: kento takes you to pound town while you're waiting for your take-out dinner to be delivered

Nanami Kento is the type of man who likes to take care of dinner. It doesn't matter if it's on a busy weekday or a lazy sunday afternoon, he's insistent on putting a plate full of love ahead of you before you go to bed.

However, sometimes, these love bites mean a take-out from your favorite Korean restaurant instead of his home cooked meals. Not that you mind. Not that you could when that means he has more time to have his hands occupied with you.

"The app says it's an hour until the food gets here," he says, turning the volume up on his phone before locking the screen and putting the device on the coffee table. His back smoothes against the couch while he loosens his tie as his other hand gently caresses your freshly shaven and lotioned leg. "Already took a shower without me?"

"I was feeling gross. It's hard to dress up for this terrible weather; one minute I'm freezing, the next I'm all sweaty," you explain with your head resting in your palm, wearing nothing but a crimson robe as your fiance hums in understanding. "What should we do until the food gets here? Do you want to continue Blue Lock?"

"I have a better idea," he says as his caresses become rubs on your calves. He places a tender kiss on your knee while fingerpads travel to your thighs, gingerly sinking into your flesh to have you reveal your already throbbing ache. "Can't have that green-eyed monster occupy your mind when I need you the most, can I?"

"Green-eyed monster?" you throw your head back as you laugh, and Kento almost finds it hard not to smile at his own joke when such hearty sounds leave your chest. "I'd choose you over Rin every single day, handsome,"

"You really mean that?" he mumbles against the supple flesh of your inner thigh, the edge of his teeth grazing up after he gets on his knees on the ground and pulls you closer to himself. You slowly untie your robe, letting it fall halfway off your shoulders as you arch your back. Your fingers rake through the softness of his blond hair, your breath hitches as his own tickles against your wetness.

"Mhm," you nod eagerly, your eyes getting lost in his questioning, darkened gaze. "Fuck, I'd choose you in every life,"

"I'm so glad, my love," Kento says before his tongue finally rushes across between your folds. His face gets completely buried between your thighs as each of his hands interlocks with yours, and you gasp each time he takes his tongue out of you to suck on your clit. Your ragged breathing turns into moans when he lets go of your hands to have two of his fingers inside you and his free hand teasing your hardened nipple. His upper lip and tongue focuses on your sensitive bud as his fingers fasten, hitting and massaging your sweetest spot until your walls tighten around their thickness and a gush of wetness drips out of you while you moan his name. "I love how your voice changes right before you orgasm," he says as he wipes off the mixture of his saliva and your cum with the back of his hand.

"I love you so fucking much, Kento," you whisper while you watch him unbuckle his belt; his usually pouting lips curving into a proud smile and his normally perfect hair all disheveled, falling right against his forehead - happiness looks like a divine light on Nanami Kento. And as his dick expertly slides into you and his smile turns into a groan against your lips, tears begin to gather in your eyes.

"I love you more," Kento mumbles to you in between swallowing your moans as he thrusts in and out of you, making the room fill with the fragrance of sweaty sex and the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the wet quenching of your pussy each time he pulls away. "More," he says again when his fingers wrap around your throat and the movements of his hips become harder, and you see the furrow between his brows deepen as he's edging close to his own orgasm. A sharp knot in your stomach begins to harden, the spams of your own orgasm nearly drive him mad in an instant, making him grunt and groan along, his hold tightening around your neck as you ride through your peak. "So. Much. More." each word comes with a hard thrust, sending his cum deeper with every stroke while his hand lets go of your throat, and cups your jawline. His tongue circles in your mouth as the remnants of his orgasm rush across him, and your fingers caress across his sweaty shoulders and back.

"That was amazing," you whisper when he breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours, earning a gentle smile from him while he entirely pulls himself out of you.

"Didn't choke you too hard, did I?" he glances at the redness that thrones on your skin while he dresses up again, and you tie back your robe.

"You were perfect, as always," you smile at him, your hair all messy and your cheeks still flushed and your lips a rosy raw from his loving. If it's not for his phone ringing, he would tell you that you are the most beautiful being he's ever laid eyes on.

Kento fixes his hair with a brush of his comb before he takes the food from the delivery man who leaves with a generous tip for having the perfect timing. But Kento cannot help, but offer a plea of a smile to you when he comes back and Rin Itoshi welcomes him on the TV screen.

[inkmonster21]

Short n’ Sweet💋

Hugh Jackman x Fem!Sister!Reynolds!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (full-blown unprotected p in v - wrap it, folks!)

Part 02

Series Masterlist

Lock Me Down Tonight

💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋

For most people, Fridays held a special charm and anticipation. They symbolized the end of the toil of work, a well-earned break, and a chance to spend quality time with loved ones.

For you… it signified when you’d finally get to fuck Hugh. The mere thought of it was enough to send a shiver of anticipation down your spine. Fridays meant that you’d finally get to be with him again, to feel the heat of his body against yours and the weight of his desire as he took you to heights of pleasure you’d never known before.

The excitement was overwhelming, to the point where you found it difficult to focus on anything else. Time seemed to drag slowly, each minute an eternity as you ached for the moment when you could finally be reunited with Hugh.

You tried to distract yourself by going about your daily routine, but it was a struggle. Your thoughts kept Returning to the memory of his touch, his smile, the way he looked at you with barely contained desire.

You stare at the two outfits laid out on the bed, each one alluring in its own way. The first is a sexy little number, the kind of outfit that would make Hugh's eyes widen in appreciation. The second is a more elegant and refined option, a choice that would have him imagining you on his arm instead of in his bed.

You hum quietly to yourself, trying to decide which outfit would best convey the perfect balance between allure and restraint. You didn't want to be too obvious, but....

You were also eager to show him just how much you desired him. It was a delicate line to walk, and you wanted to make sure you got it just right. The thought has you biting your lip, the sense of anticipation growing with each passing moment. You reach for the phone and dial Megan’s number, waiting for her to answer.

You see Megan’s face appear on the screen, her eyes bright and her smile wide. She takes in your appearance and the outfits laid out on the bed behind you, a knowing smirk spreading across her face. Out of everyone in your life, Megan was the only one to know of your situation with Hugh. She was your walking phone and calendar. She knew things before you did! “Is the black too much?” You ask nibbling on your manicured nails.

Megan looks at the black outfit, her eyes trailing over the delicate lace and the plunging neckline. “Not at all,” she replies, her tone knowing. “Hugh won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

You feel confident in the choice. “Black it is then.” Megan smiles, pleased that you’ve made a decision. "You’re going to knock him dead, I promise." You check yourself in the mirror, studying every angle and curve. The black outfit fits like a second skin, hugging your body in all the right places.

You glance down at your feet, admiring the tall black heels you've chosen. They elongate your legs, adding a touch of elegance to your outfit. You slide on the sheer black tights, the silky material molding to your skin seamlessly.

Looking in the mirror, you take a moment to admire your reflection. The black outfit accentuates your curves and makes you feel sexy and confident.

As the last hour crawls by, you find yourself pacing around your room, unable to sit still. Your mind is filled with anticipation, and your heart beats a little faster with every minute that passes.

You glance at the clock, willing the hands to move faster. It feels like an eternity before it’s finally time to leave. Your heart skips a beat as you see Hugh's name flash on your phone screen. You quickly answer the call, your voice a mixture of excitement and nerves. “Hey, I was just about to head over.”

Hugh’s voice comes through the line, deep and velvety. You can hear a hint of excitement in his tone, mirroring your own. "I can't wait to see you,” he says, his words sending a shiver down your spine. "I've been thinking about you all day."

“You’re not alone there.” You muse into the phone. “You haven’t gotten into your car yet have you?” Hugh asks.

You smile at Hugh's question, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest. "No, not yet. Why?" you reply, curious about what he has in mind.

You pause, your eyes going wide as you gaze at the black limousine waiting in the parking garage. A thrill of excitement courses through you, your heart fluttering at the sight. You step closer to the car, a mixture of curiosity and anticipation filling you as you wonder what Hugh has planned for tonight.

“Because I figured I would have you dropped off.”

You feel a smile spread across your face as his words sink in. "Hugh, you didn’t have to do this," you say, both touched and excited by his extravagant gesture. You approach the limousine, your heels clicking against the pavement. The driver, standing beside the rear passenger door, gives you a nod as he opens the door for you.

“Well I told you I would give you everything you deserve, didn’t I?” A shiver runs down your spine as his words reach your ears. They're equal parts sweet and seductive, a potent combination that always makes your head spin.

"You did say that," you murmur, a hint of desire lacing your voice. You slide into the luxurious car, the leather seats offering comfort and indulgence. The door closes quietly behind you, encasing you in a bubble of privacy and luxury.

As the limousine glides through the streets, you take in the plush interior, the dim lighting creating an intimate ambiance. The city lights pass by outside the tinted windows, adding to the sense of mystery and excitement. You bring the phone back to your ear, the sound of Hugh's voice a balm to your senses. “I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

You watch the city pass by through the tinted windows, your mind filled with images of Hugh: his magnetic gaze, his charming smile, his muscular frame. You're about to see him again, to feel his touch and taste his kiss. The thought alone is enough to make your heart pound faster and your breathing shallow.

The limousine pulls into the parking garage of Hugh's luxurious complex, the silence punctuated by the smooth hum of the engine. The garage is quiet and dimly lit, and you feel a wave of excitement wash over you as you prepare to finally be reunited with Hugh. The limousine glides effortlessly into a reserved spot, coming to a stop as the driver gets out to open your door.

A strong, protective hand extended from outside, reaching out to you. Without a moment’s hesitation, you take it, and a sense of security washes over you as Hugh gently guides you out. His fingers splay over your waist, providing a strong yet tender anchor point as he helps you take that first step.

The feel of Hugh's hand on your waist is electric, his touch sending sparks of desire through your body. You draw in a sharp breath, your heart rate quickening as you take a moment to steady yourself.

The contact is subtle yet possessive, his fingers exerting gentle yet firm pressure on your hip. The subtle gesture betrays just how badly he wants you, his restraint barely hiding the desire that simmers just beneath the surface.

His lips meet yours, and a wave of tenderness washes over you. His kiss is gentle yet intense, a subtle declaration of his desire and his feelings for you. It's a moment that feels both comforting and exhilarating, the sweetness of the gesture only fueling the fire within you.

As the kiss lingers, his fingers dig into your hips, his touch growing more possessive. It's a silent message – a reminder that no matter how gentle his touch is, the desire that burns within him is barely contained.

Hugh guides you through the complex, his hand still resting possessively on your hip. There's a moment of silence as you reach the private elevator that leads to Hugh's penthouse. With a simple touch of a button, the elevator doors slide open, and Hugh gestures for you to precede him inside.

As you step into the elevator, the cool air conditioning sends a subtle shiver through you. The space is small, intimate, just the two of you.

Hugh steps in behind you, his presence is overwhelming and all-consuming. The doors slide shut, enclosing you both in the small space. The silence is intense, the air between you charged with tension and expectation.

Hugh's gaze rakes over you, his eyes darkened with desire. The black dress he'd seen earlier now looks even more tantalizing on you, the fabric hugging your curves in all the right places.

His eyes linger on the way the dress clings to your body, the way it exposes just a hint of cleavage, the way it accentuates your shape. It's clear that you're having a profound effect on him, stirring up deep and primal desires that he's barely able to contain.

"You look absolutely stunning," Hugh murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "That dress...it's driving me crazy." His eyes rake over your body again, taking in every detail. He reaches out, the palms of his hands skimming up your sides, his touch burning through the fabric.

You bite your lip as you lean into his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Well, I hope you’re ready for me to take it off.”

A low growl rumbles in Hugh's chest as you press your body against him. Your words only stoke the fire that's already burning within him. He slides his hands down to the curves of your hips, firmly gripping you against him.

As you enter the penthouse, you're immediately struck by the grandiosity of the space. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer panoramic views of the city skyline, the night sky lit up with a dazzling array of lights.

The penthouse is tastefully furnished, with a modern, masculine aesthetic that reflects Hugh's personality. The living room features comfortable couches, a sleek wall-mounted television, and a piano tucked into a corner.

The layout is open and inviting, the space designed for both style and functionality. As you walk further inside, the faint scent of his cologne fills your nose, lingering subtly in the air.

Hugh heads over to the kitchen, where a dinner table is already set up for two. Dishes and silverware are arranged neatly, the flickering glow of lit candles casting a soft, intimate light over the table.

As you arrive at the dining table, Hugh pulls out a chair for you, his gallant demeanor making your heart flutter. His hand holds the back of the chair as you seat yourself, his polite gesture a mixture of chivalry and possessiveness.

Hugh takes his own seat at the table, his eyes never leaving you. The candlelight flickers in his eyes, making the desire there even more apparent.

This was something you’d never experienced before. Sure you’d gone on plenty of dates. The same old dinner, movie, make-out routine is old and worn out.

Hugh was showing you the finer things of life. The more intimate experiences you could have with him. And you were loving every moment of it.

Hugh pours you a glass of wine, the deep red liquid swirling elegantly in the crystal glass. He then pours one for himself and sets the bottle down on the table.

As you take a sip of the wine, you can't help but feel a thrill of excitement. Hugh's attention is entirely focused on you, his eyes drinking in every movement, every expression. The intimate setting, the delicious food, and the flickering candlelight all combine to create a sensual atmosphere that's both romantic and erotic.

“You’ve outdone yourself,” you smirk at him. “Never been treated like this before. You’ve got me feeling special, Hugh.” Hugh chuckles a low, sexy sound that makes you shiver. He grins, his eyes sparkling in the candlelight.

"You're damn right you're special," he replies, his voice tinged with a hint of pride. "You deserve to be treated like royalty, and I'm going to make sure you feel like it every goddamn day."

Hugh’s masculine hand covers yours, his touch strong and warm, the contact between you sparks a wave of electricity. His voice quiets, taking on a more serious, sincere tone as he gazes into your eyes.

"Tonight, you’re the center of my world," Hugh reiterates, his words a soft yet intense declaration of his feelings. "I want this night to be an unforgettable one. I want to show you just how much you mean to me."

Hugh ladles out dinner, the mouthwatering aroma of the meal drifting up towards you. The candlelight casts a warm, flickering glow over the table, creating an intimate and romantic atmosphere.

He serves you first, placing a plate loaded with a variety of mouthwatering dishes in front of you. The food looks and smells incredible, and you can tell it's been prepared with meticulous care.

“You made this?” You ask in amazement. Hugh nods, a proud smile spreading across his face. "Every last bit," he says, clearly pleased with himself. "I wanted tonight to be perfect."

You take a bite, savoring the flavors that explode on your tongue. It's delicious, the combination of spices and herbs perfectly balanced. Hugh watches you intently, his eyes fixed on your face, eager for your reaction.

“I might just let you lock me down tonight, Hugh.” You tease him. He was all around the perfect man. Hugh raises an eyebrow, a sly grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "Oh, is that a promise?" he replies, his voice laced with a hint of challenge. "You think I can convince you to stay the night?"

As the meal progresses, the conversation between you and Hugh continues, flowing effortlessly and comfortably. The topics range from lighthearted and playful to more serious and intimate, touching on your childhoods, dreams, and aspirations. The candlelight flickers, the soft glow creating a warm, intimate atmosphere.

Hugh listens intently, his eyes locked on you, hanging onto every word. Occasionally, he offers a gentle touch – a hand on yours, a brush of his fingertips against your skin – small gestures that speak volumes about his admiration for you.

He takes a sip of his wine, then leans in slightly, his gaze fixed on you. "So tell me about your album," he prompts. "How long have you been working on it? What's the inspiration behind it?"

You sip your wine thinking over the album. “Almost two years.” Hugh's eyebrows raise in surprise, his eyes widening slightly at the revelation. "Two years?" he repeats, a hint of admiration in his voice. "That's a long time. I can only imagine how much effort and passion you've poured into it."

You have to roll your eyes at the thought. “I dated this Shawn guy. A complete dumbass. Some of the songs are about him. How he fucked me over.” As you mention your ex, a flicker of anger flashes across Hugh's face. His jaw clenches, and his eyes darken with possessive jealousy.

But he quickly tamps down the emotion, replacing it with a more sympathetic expression. "Sounds like he was a real piece of work," he mutters, his voice tight with resentment at the thought of someone treating you poorly.

You trail your gaze to meet Hugh’s. “Then the other songs are about you.” Hugh's expression suddenly shifts as he processes your words. His eyes soften, and the possessive edge to his demeanor recedes, replaced by something softer, warmer.

A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he absorbs the meaning behind your words. "About me?" he asks, his voice tinged with both surprise and curiosity. "You wrote songs about me?" You smirk, “I might’ve.”

Hugh's grin widens at your words, his eyes sparkling with amusement and a hint of pride. "Now I'm dying to know what you wrote about me. Are they good songs, or am I gonna come off looking like a fool?" You toy with his fingers, as you rake your gaze up his face. “Just don’t embarrass me, motherfucker.”

Hugh's fingers intertwine with yours, his larger hand completely dwarfing yours. He laughs at your playful threat, the sound deep and rich. "Oh, don't worry, sweetheart," he replies, his voice low and sultry. "I'm a man of many talents, but I'm not in the habit of embarrassing gorgeous women. You're safe with me."

He brings your entwined hands up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. The gesture is intimate and tender, his touch sending a shiver through you. He holds your gaze as he plants another soft kiss on your knuckles, his eyes smoldering with desire.

"Now, about those songs..." he murmurs, his voice a low rumble in his chest. "You gonna give me a preview, or do I have to wait until I can buy your album?" You smirk widely as you stand. You sway over to his seat. “I guess I can give you just a little sneak peek.”

Hugh's eyes follow your every movement. As you approach, he leans back in his chair, his gaze roaming over your figure appreciatively. He's clearly enjoying the view, a predatory look in his eyes.

"A sneak peak, huh?" he says, his voice rough. "I like the sound of that." He reaches out, his large hands gripping your hips and pulling you closer to him. You settle onto Hugh's lap, your body pressing snugly against his. His hands instinctively tighten around your hips, holding you in place as he looks up at you. The height difference emphasizes his masculinity, his broad shoulders and muscular frame dwarfing you as you straddle him.

With the meal now finished, you lean back against Hugh, a soft hum of satisfaction slipping past your lips. "Dinner's done," you murmur, a hint of contentedness in your voice.

Hugh’s hands remain fixed on your hips, his fingers gently kneading the supple flesh. He gazes up at you, his eyes darkening with desire as he silently reinforces his promise for the night. Without a word, Hugh easily lifts you up in his arms, the strength in his muscles making it look effortless. He carries you to the bedroom, his steps steady and purposeful.

Gently, he laid you down on the soft bed, his strong hands caressing your body, exploring every curve with reverence. He traced the outline of your face, his fingers brushing your lips, sending a jolt of electricity through your veins. You arched your back, inviting him to continue his exploration.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice hoarse with desire. "So young and full of life. I want to worship every inch of you." His lips found yours, and he kissed you with a passion that took your breath away. His tongue danced with yours, a sensual battle for dominance that left you yearning for more. Hugh's hands roamed freely, moving the straps of your dress down, cupping your breasts, teasing your nipples until they hardened under his touch.

You moaned into his mouth, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. Hugh's kisses trailed down your neck, leaving a path of fiery desire, before he gently bit your sensitive skin, eliciting a gasp of pleasure. "I need to taste you again, baby," he whispered against your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

With skilled fingers, he dragged your tights down your legs, kissing every inch of bare skin as it revealed itself. His hands deftly removed your clothing, exposing your naked body to his hungry gaze.

"You're exquisite," he breathed, his eyes dark with desire. Hugh's lips trailed down your stomach, leaving a trail of kisses and soft bites, until he reached the edge of your panties. He hooked his fingers into the lace and slowly slid them down your legs, his breath hot on your sensitive skin.

You felt exposed and vulnerable, yet incredibly aroused. Hugh's tongue traced the outline of your pussy. You gasped, your body arching off the bed, as he finally took the first stride of his tongue.

His tongue delved deep into your wetness, exploring every fold and crevice. He lapped at your juices, his mouth hot and insistent, driving you wild with pleasure. You clutched the sheets, your body trembling as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

"Oh, Hugh," you cried out, your voice hoarse with need. "I'm going to cum!" He increased his pace, his tongue flicking relentlessly against your clit, sending you spiraling into a mind-shattering orgasm. Your body shook uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. Hugh continued to feast on your pussy, lapping up your essence, prolonging your ecstasy. As your orgasm subsided, Hugh slowly made his way up your body, leaving a trail of kisses and gentle bites. He looked into your eyes, his own desire burning fiercely.

"I want to be inside you," he growled, his voice thick with want. "I want to feel your tight pussy around my cock." You reached down, grasping his hard length through his pants, and stroked him slowly, feeling his thickness and warmth. With trembling fingers, you unbuckled his belt, desperate to free his straining erection.

Hugh's cock sprang free, thick and veined, standing proudly before you. You stroked him gently, marveling at his size and the way his breath caught as you touched him. "Please, Hugh," you begged, your voice husky.

He positioned himself between your thighs, his cock teasing your wet entrance. With one smooth thrust, he filled you, stretching you deliciously. You moaned, wrapping your legs around his waist, urging him deeper.

Hugh began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one sending pleasure coursing through your body. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of his hips. "You feel so good," he groaned between kisses. "So tight and wet. I can't get enough of you."

He picked up the pace, his cock slamming into you with increasing urgency. The bed creaked with each powerful thrust, and your moans filled the room, a symphony of pure pleasure. Hugh's hands gripped your hips, guiding you to meet his every stroke, driving you both towards the brink of ecstasy.

"I'm close," you whispered, your nails digging into his back. He growled in response, his body tensing as he reached his peak. With one final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep within you, filling you with his hot cum. You clenched around him, milking his throbbing cock, as your own orgasm exploded, rippling through your body.

In that moment, the age difference faded away, leaving only the raw, primal connection between two lovers lost in the throes of passion. As their breathing slowed, Hugh collapsed onto the bed beside you, his chest heaving, a satisfied smile on his lips.

"That was incredible," he whispered, his fingers tracing patterns on your bare skin. Hugh pulls you close, his strong arms wrapping around you possessively. “Convinced to stay the night yet?” You giggle and settle into his grasp. “You’ve got me, Hugh.” Your words meant more than just the confirmation of your bed sharing for the night. Hugh had you completely. If he wanted.

The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, lost in a blissful haze of erotic fulfillment and tender affection.

[caramara3]

How Could You | Damian Priest

Warnings: it's just sad.

A/N: Sooo... this is actually a rework of an old Seth Rollins one-shot I had made years back, but I decided to revamp it into a Damian Priest one-shot. This has absolutely no tie-in to Just Friends whatsoever.

Word Count: 2.9k

Enjoy!

DING!

The elevator comes to a halt upon the arrival of yet another floor. A robotic, yet feminine voice comes over the loudspeaker:

“EIGHTH FLOOR.”

The metal doors slowly open to reveal a black and gray hallway with artwork of abstract watercolor paintings hanging on the walls. Standing towards the back of the car, leaning against the safety bar, you watch your best friend and maid of honor Sydney step off the elevator. Placing one hand in front of the elevator door so it wouldn’t close she scans the hallway, looking left and then to the right, all to make sure that there was no one around.

After a few minutes, she finally turned her gaze back into the elevator. A small, loving smile softly forms and she extends a hand.

“Coast is clear,” she whispers.

You nod and push off the safety bar, throwing the thick strap of your purse over your shoulder. You grab hold of your carry-on and step off the elevator.

Sydney places a hand on the swell of your back while the other pulls her suitcase. Your gaze falls to the floor as the two of you walk down the hall, focusing on the hotel’s unusual carpet pattern as she scans the placards on the wall looking for the right room. Every so often you could feel her eyes practically burning a hole through before quickly turning away to look back up at the placards. 

She was worried. She had every right to be. Since leaving the arena over an hour ago you'd barely spoken a single word. Not to her, not to Rhea, no one. You were catatonic. 

But who could blame you? After what you had just seen, anyone would react the exact same way if they were in your shoes.

As you continued down the hall, you could feel the consistent buzzing of your phone through the thin fabric of the hoodie. Slow at first, but quickly becoming more often with every unanswered second passing by.

It almost felt like with every step you took, the phone would go off.

Step.

Buzz.

Step.

Buzz.

Step, step.

Buzz, buzz.

Normally you would have answered by now. But instead, you chose to ignore whoever it was and kept going. 

You finally reached the end of the hall and stopped in front of a door marked 827. Sydney pulls out a key card from the pocket of her jeans and slides it into the automated lock. A few buzzing sounds later, a green light flashes and a loud *click* signals the door had unlocked. She turns the handle, pushes the door open, and then moves to the side to usher you into the room, following close behind.

Placing your purse on the dresser, you look around at what would be your new home for the night. For the most part, the room looked like every other hotel room you’ve stayed in while on the road. Granted, this was probably the most luxurious of most of them, but still pretty standard. 

There were two Queen beds each donning a fancy purple duvet with no less than eight of the fluffiest pillows you’d have ever seen in your life, a giant flat screen TV mounted above a black dresser, cashmere floor rugs draped across cherry hardwood floors, a cozy little reading area near the windows with a small leather loveseat, and a wet bar fully stocked with overpriced snacks and tiny bottles of alcohol. 

The one thing that did make the room stand out was the incredible view. Floor-to-ceiling window panels centered on the main wall of the room leveled with the New York skyline, showcasing a near perfect image of the city. There was even a clear view of the Empire State Building in the background, lit up in red and blue lights as night blanketed the city.

You sit on the edge of the bed, looking out the window. Looking out at the city you couldn’t help to think about how different life was a few hours ago. You were engaged to the love of your life. You were in the final countdown before the big day, less than a week. You were at your rehearsal dinner downtown surrounded by your closest friends and family, all gathered to celebrate your upcoming nuptials. 

But all of that seemed so long ago now.

How could this have happened? How could he do that to me? 

But before you could think of an answer to your question, the sound of boots clacking across the hardwood floor brought you back to reality.

“Well,” Sydney says with a satisfied sigh, “this is nice. Really nice as a matter of fact, especially with it being super last minute.”

You brought your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms tightly around them, never once looking away from the window. “It’s fine, I guess.” 

“Fine?” she snorts, “Y/N, come on! Look at what we got. Gorgeous view, fancy sheets, free Wi-Fi, a fully stocked bar...”

You hear movement from behind and see a light flicker on through the window’s reflection. “Oh my-, Y/N you’ve gotta see this bathroom! It’s got a huge shower and…” she pauses, “Oh. My. God. The floors are heated. Y/N the floors are heated!!”

But you don’t move. You don’t spring up from the bed to revel in her excitement over heated floors or whatever other fancy details the room had to offer. Instead, you stay seated in silence, holding yourself as you gaze out into the city and its nightlife. 

You observe the streetlights perched on the sidewalk creating an ominous glow on the pavement. The mixture of city cars and yellow taxis, halted by ongoing traffic as they struggle to reach their destination on time. The small groups of tourists stopping every few minutes for selfies with various buildings in the background, including this very hotel.

All the while your mind replays the events from earlier. A single tear manages to escape as your mind begins to torture you with a play-by-play of what happened. It all still felt like a dream to me, a sick twisted nightmare that no matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t wake up from. Your brain searched and scanned through every single memory collected from the last three years.

You were desperate to find any little detail you missed, something that could explain just where everything went wrong. Something that could’ve prepared you for what would eventually happen.

But you found nothing.

No hints, no little clues. 

No hidden messages or blaring warning signs.

Nothing that screamed out: “Y/N don’t be alarmed, but the night before you’re supposed to get married… you’re gonna find your fiancé with some random woman bent over a table.”

Boy that would’ve been a great fucking warning now, wouldn’t it?

You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t felt the bed dip, nor did you flinch when you felt a set of arms pull you into an embrace, resting your head under Sydney’s chin. One hand settled at the swell of your back, tracing small circles with her finger, the other gently stroked your hair. Sydney had been your best friend ever since you were both in diapers, you knew just how much it pained her to see you like this; this deflated catatonic alien that had replaced her bubbly best friend. You knew she probably had a million questions for you, but rather than bombard you, she said nothing and just held you. 

Throughout your nearly three decades of friendship, there was never a time in your life where you couldn’t rely on her to be there for you wherever you needed the most. And tonight was definitely one of those moments when you needed her.

The two of you stayed in this comfortable silence for seemed like forever, just staring out into the night as she held you. 

“You feel like talking about it?” you hear her ask, her voice just above a whisper.

You say nothing.

“Ok, that’s fine, we don’t have to talk about it yet. We’ve got tomorrow to figure everything out, but tonight,” she pauses, leaping from the bed, “tonight we are getting shit faced.”

Once again you say nothing but watch as she makes her way over to the wet bar. You knew what Sydney was trying to do. First she would pump you with some top shelf liquor, order a bunch of room service, and then put on your favorite horror movies to get you in a relaxed and neutral state while she did damage control. 

Unfortunately, Freddy Krueger and tequila weren't going to fix this problem. Not this time.

“Tell you what. Why don’t I call Rhea and see where she and Bianca are with the rest of your things, and then I’ll see if I can wrangle us up some food. How does that sound?”

You think it over for a moment before nodding in agreement.

A smile forms on Sydney’s face. “Awesome. What do you feel like? We could do chinese, pizza, maybe some Thai food? I could see if room service is still available…?”

You look over at her, her hazel eyes meeting yours. “Could we do a little bit of everything?”

A small laugh escapes Sydney’s mouth. “Hell yea we can! I’ll even get some ice cream from that bodega we passed down the street. Why don’t you change out of that dress, take a nice hot shower, and I’ll start getting everything ready.”

You give her a small smile and with one final hug from her she grabs her purse and heads out, leaving you alone. You slide off the bed and walk around the large room. You stop in front of one of the many conveniently placed touch screen panels on the wall. Scanning over it, you find an app called Night and tap it. Instantly, large panels begin descending over the large window panel, slightly darkening the room and hiding the skyline away for the night.

You move about the room making your way inside the en-suite bathroom. Once inside, you shut the door and lock it. Sydney was right, this was an incredible bathroom, like something straight out of Architectural Digest. Apart from the aforementioned heated floors, there were heated marble countertops, eucalyptus scented plush Egyptian cotton towels, two complimentary plush bathrobes with matching slippers, full-sized bottles of luxury brand skincare and body products, & a huge glass walk-in steam shower with two large overhead rainfall showerheads and shower wall panels on the front and side walls.

On the outside of the shower was another touch screen panel to control the shower. You look it over for a few moments, looking over your choices before choosing the one labeled “rainfall.” The overhead showerheads come alive and water begins to rain down, quickly filling the bathroom with steam.

Moving back to the sink you look at the wide selection of skincare products laid out when you felt your phone begin its incessant vibrating once again. But rather than ignore it like before, you pull your phone from your hoodie pocket and stare at the screen.

The first thing you see is your background. It was one of your favorite pictures of the two of you together, Halloween 2022. The two of you had dressed up as Frankenstein and The Bride of Frankenstien. You were looking at the camera but his eyes were focused solely on you, a smile stretched across his face as he did.

You unlock your screen and view the notifications: over a dozen missed calls. Dozens of voicemails. Way too many damn unread text messages.

With a sigh, you begin scrolling through the list of missed calls, seeing one name appear more often than others.

Damian.

Damian.

Rhea.

Bianca.

Damian.

Damian.

Kayden.

Finn.

Dominik.

Damian.

Damian.

Damian.

Bianca.

Finn.

Damian.

Rhea.

Damian.

Damian.

Damian.

Damian.

The nerve he had to call you, the absolute nerve. What in the hell would make him think you wanted to hear anything that he had to say? Did he think that simple sorry was going to change everything? Or was he calling to explain that what you had seen wasn’t what you thought it was.

You toss your phone onto the counter in annoyance before walking back into the main room, not caring much where it landed. You free yourself of your hoodie, your dress, and the rest of your clothes. You grab two of the plush bath towels underneath the sink, placing one on the back of the toilet and place the other on a hook outside of the shower. You grab one of the bottles of complimentary body wash and open the shower door, the rush of steam engulfing you as you step inside.

You move to stand directly underneath the showerhead, letting the warm cascade over your body. The sound of water splashing against the tiles echoed off the walls but it wasn’t enough to drown out your own thoughts as your mind displayed every kiss, every touch, every ‘I love you’ ever said playing on an endless loop in your mind, attempting to pinpoint the moment where everything changed.

Meeting for the time wrestling on the indies. Meeting again after signing your WWE contract. The night he first asked you out, the night he first said I love you, the night you first made love. Meeting each other’s families. 

You try to shake these thoughts from your mind, but it won’t work. No matter what else you attempt to think about, no matter what other happy memories you attempt to form in your head, nothing can keep them at bay. A few stray tears push their way out but you’re quick to wipe them away.

No, you thought. You are not going to do this Y/N. This isn’t happening right now. Stop it!

You reach to grab the bottle of body wash from the shelf inside the shower...    

And that’s when you noticed it. The tan line on your finger, now completely visible on your left hand that only a few hours ago bore the beautiful oval cut diamond engagement ring. 

The ring that he claimed to have been carrying around for months, hoping to find that right moment that never seemed to come. 

Until the night of WrestleMania 37, just hours after you retained your title against Asuka and watched him compete in his first Mania alongside Bad Bunny. The two of you found yourselves back in your shared hotel room, bodies entangled with one another, holding you close against his chest when he would whisper in your ear the two words that would freeze time around you both:

Marry me.

He would reach over to the bedside table next to the bed and pull out a small black box. He would tell you just how much he loved you, how he has always loved you from the moment he met you, how he doesn't wish to spend another day on this earth without you. Then he would slip the dainty ring on your finger and ask you to spend the rest of your life with him.  

Now that finger is bare. The ring was gone, given or rather thrown back at him after what had happened.

And just like that, it all came crumbling down. That false sense of reality you created since leaving the arena had finally collided with actual reality and had smacked you dead in the face.

Damian Priest, the love of your life, the man you were set to marry tomorrow, had been cheating on you. 

And you had caught him tonight. 

Your legs carried you backward until your back hit the wall of the shower. A wave of nausea swirls all around your empty stomach and your chest tightens like someone was stomping on it repeatedly. The first sob was quiet, nothing short of a small childlike whimper as the tears fell. But more and more as reality continued to sink in, they grew louder. The tears flowed more, so much so that I couldn’t tell what were tears and what was from the shower. 

Three years of your life, all gone in a flash. Plans for the future, for children, traveling the world… all just illusions and fantasies that would never come true now.  

Your body sank to the ground and before you knew it you were curled up into a ball, sobbing into your knees as the water turned from warm to cold. 

But you didn’t care. Your head swam with half-formed regrets. Your heart felt as if your blood had turned into tar as it struggled to keep a steady beat. 

There was nothing left to feel, nothing left to say, nothing left but the void that now engulfed you in the swirling blackness.

And it was all because of him.  

TagList:

@terrortwinunicorn @damiansgoodgirll @rootedinrevisions @thedeboniardevistation @beibigirl124 @bonni-98 @queencherryberry @queenoftheworldisdead @kalliravenne @neversatisfiedgirl @mzv11 @sassymox @blueblazezz @madhatterbri @royallyprincesslilly @southerngirl41 @abadbitchblogs @miss-kuki-nz @shamaness11 @cookiebelle @flawlessglamazon @lavitabella87 @chaneajoyyy @adriennegabriella @gold--gucciempress @msbigredmachine @fivefootxo @joy-of-life88 @joannasteez @wrestlingbabe @daniiwrites @trippinsorrows @lorena26 @babiidee28 @yana3sworld @disc0fairy @eringobragh420 @bossbitch-22 @kultklassickiller @hotmessexpressssss @writinglionqueen @retro-rezz-the-est

[reveryfics]

Lotus Eater

Pairings: Loki x Male Reader

Summary: Loki has taken you along to Asgard, but instead of dealing with his princely duties he instead spends indulging in more pleasurable activities.

A/n: To clarify a "Lotus Eater" is someone who spends times indulging in pleasures and luxuries instead of dealing with concerns.

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The shimmering Bifrost bridge, a rainbow of energy, deposited them onto Asgard, the golden city gleaming against the backdrop of a thousand stars. Loki, his hand clasped firmly in his own, guided his boyfriend through the bustling streets, the air alive with the hum of magic. Towering spires, shimmering fountains, and gardens bursting with exotic flora painted a picture of otherworldly beauty.

"It's… breathtaking," his boyfriend breathed, his eyes wide with wonder.

Loki smiled, a mischievous glint in his emerald eyes. "Wait until you see my old chambers."

He led him through the opulent halls of the palace, the marble floors cool beneath their feet. Finally, they reached the door, heavy and ornate, adorned with intricate carvings. With a flourish, Loki pushed it open.

The room was a sanctuary of comfort and indulgence. Bookshelves overflowing with ancient tomes lined the walls, while scattered across the floor lay exotic furs and shimmering silks. A four-poster bed, draped in a canopy of shimmering moonlight silk, dominated the center of the room, inviting surrender.

"It's magnificent," his boyfriend whispered, mesmerized.

Loki chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. "I have another surprise for you, my love."

He led him towards the en-suite bathroom, where a small, exquisitely crafted box sat upon the crystal sink. "Open it."

With trembling hands, his boyfriend lifted the lid. Inside, nestled on a bed of black velvet, lay a garment of shimmering silk, a masterpiece of seduction. It was a dress, the fabric clinging to the curves of his body, revealing more than it concealed.

Loki watched, a predatory gleam in his eyes, as his boyfriend emerged from behind the screen, the setting sun glinting off his bare skin. The silk clung to him like a second skin, accentuating every curve, every ripple of muscle.

Suddenly, all thoughts of royal duties, of family obligations, vanished from Loki's mind. There was only this – the raw, primal desire burning within him, the need to possess, to consume.

"Come here," Loki growled, his voice a silken caress.

His boyfriend moved with a grace that belied his strength, straddling Loki's lap. The silk rode up, revealing the smooth curve of his buttocks, a tantalizing glimpse of forbidden pleasure.

"Does it please you, my prince?" he murmured, his lips brushing against Loki's jaw, sending shivers down his spine.

Loki's hands tightened around his waist, his nails digging gently into the flesh. "You have no idea," he rasped, his voice rough with desire.

He leaned in, his lips finding the sweet curve of his neck, tasting the salt of his skin. This was Asgard, a realm of magic and wonder, but nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the magic that ignited between them.

The air crackled with a forbidden energy as Loki, eyes gleaming with mischief, trailed a finger down his boyfriend's chest. A soft gasp escaped his lips as Loki's touch ignited a trail of fire across his skin. Their lips met in a fierce, passionate kiss, a battle of wills and desires.

Loki pulled back, his eyes lingering on his boyfriend's flushed face, a triumphant smirk playing on his lips. "You look so… delectable," he purred, his voice a silken caress against his skin. He nipped at his neck, eliciting a low groan. "Like a forbidden fruit, ripe for the taking."

He began to unbutton his shirt, discarding it carelessly to the floor. His eyes roamed over his boyfriend's body, drinking in the sight of him, his skin glistening with sweat, his eyes glazed with desire. "You're so beautiful," he breathed, his voice husky with need.

He reached for the waistband of his pants, slowly sliding them down, revealing the evidence of his erection. His boyfriend, eyes wide with a mixture of lust and apprehension, reached for him, his touch tentative at first, then bolder, exploring every inch of his body.

Loki groaned, arching into his touch, his fingers digging into the sheets beneath him. "You drive me wild," he whispered, his voice rough with desire.

He pulled his boyfriend closer, their bodies melding together, a symphony of skin against skin. He moved against him, slow and deliberate at first, then with a fierce urgency that mirrored the storm brewing within him.

"You're incredible," he murmured, his breath hot against his ear. "The most beautiful creature I've ever seen."

He buried his face in his neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of his skin. "And beneath this dress," he whispered, his voice a low growl, "you're even more breathtaking."

He moved with a primal intensity, his body a whirlwind of sensation. He kissed him deeply, his tongue exploring the warm, moist cavern of his mouth. He tasted the sweetness of his submission.

As the world around them faded away, they surrendered to the raw, primal force of their desire, their bodies moving as one, a perfect, passionate dance of pleasure and pain.

His boyfriend, emboldened by Loki's surrender, shifted, his hands finding purchase on Loki's hips. He began to move, slow and deliberate at first, teasing Loki with the promise of deeper pleasure. Loki gasped, his head thrown back, his eyes fluttering closed. He was lost in the sensation, his body arching involuntarily beneath his lover's touch.

His boyfriend, sensing his vulnerability, increased the pressure, his movements becoming more confident, more demanding. Loki cried out, his nails digging into the sheets, his body trembling with the intensity of the pleasure. He was completely at his mercy, his will melting away beneath his lover's skilled hands.

His boyfriend, reveling in his control, leaned down and kissed him deeply, his tongue exploring every corner of Loki's mouth. He tasted the salt of Loki's tears, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure he was inflicting.

Loki whimpered, his body shaking uncontrollably. He was on the verge, teetering on the precipice of ecstasy. His boyfriend, sensing his imminent release, moved with a final, explosive burst, sending Loki over the edge.

Loki arched, his back twisting, his body convulsing with pleasure. He cried out, his voice raw with ecstasy. He clung to his boyfriend, his body limp and spent.

His boyfriend, his chest heaving with exertion, held him close, whispering words of comfort and love. He traced gentle circles on Loki's back, soothing the tremors that still racked his body.

"You're mine," he murmured, his voice husky with satisfaction. "Completely mine."

Loki, nestled in his arms, could only manage a weak smile. He was utterly, hopelessly lost. He had never felt so completely, so utterly consumed. He closed his eyes, savoring the afterglow, the lingering warmth of their bodies pressed together.

The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the room. They lay entwined in the large bath, the water lukewarm and soothing.

"We should do this again," his boyfriend murmured, his voice a low rumble against Loki's ear.

Loki, his eyes half-closed, smiled lazily. "I think we should," he agreed, his voice thick with lingering pleasure. "And next time," he added, his eyes twinkling mischievously, "I want to see you in more lingerie."

His boyfriend chuckled, a low, throaty sound. "Anything for you, my love." He leaned down and kissed him, a lingering, tender kiss that promised more to come.

This continuation explores the power dynamic shifting, with Loki becoming more submissive under his boyfriend's confident touch. It emphasizes the sensory details and the emotional impact of the encounter, creating a more immersive and satisfying reading experience.

[hazbinshusk]

husk x fem!reader (called 'my girl' by husk, although non-specific on body parts)

he's never been able to say 'no' to you, even when there's other people in the room. praise, light daddy kink, affection in french, and sex behind the bar. 1k words.

***************************************************************************************

Leaning your elbows on the polished wood of the bar, you rested your chin on your hands with a smile. Husk met your eye as he turned away from the glassware to face you, sighing even as his own lips quirked up on one side in a smirk. “What are you thinkin’?”

“Me? Nothing at all,” you replied, faux-innocently. “I’m just looking for a refill.”

“Uh-huh,” he replied dryly, reaching for the cocktail shaker. “I know that look, doll.”

Your smile widened despite your attempt at nonchalance, and you bit your lip. “I just thought you might be lonely over here is all.”

“So, you ditched the movie night just to say ‘hello’?” he asked, nodding over to where the rest of the hotel residents sat in front of the TV. It was the latest in a long line of activities designed to build comradery among the staff and guests.

“Maybe.”

“I ever tell you that you can’t lie for shit?”

You snickered, accepting the drink he slid your way. “Okay, so maybe I had a thought.”

“Dangerous.”

“Wanna get out of here?” you asked.

Husk groaned softly at the suggestive tone in your voice. “You know I want to, sweetness. But I can’t leave ‘til the last guest does. Boss’s orders.”

“But Alastor isn’t even here,” you pointed out with a pout. There was no way the radio demon could have been convinced to spend an evening in front of a television screen.

Husk grimaced apologetically, his claws ghosting against the base of his throat for a moment. “Not how it works, doll.”

You sighed, downing your drink and setting the glass back on the bar. You reached across the bar to rub your fingers through the soft fur on his cheek, smiling as he leaned into the touch, his eyes closing for a moment.

Husk gave you a small, wistful smile as you withdrew and turned away again. He jumped, letting out a small ‘mrrp’ of surprise as you rounded the bar instead of returning to the others.

“What’re you doin’?”

“Keeping you company,” you told him with an innocent shrug. Husk’s eyes widened, his ears folding back as you pressed a hand up against his crotch. You felt him twitch under your palm. “I’ve missed you today, daddy.”

“Oh, you are evil,” he muttered, casting a nervous glance over at the others.

“Please?” you drew out the word with an enticing smile, your other hand scratching through the downy fur below his navel.

Husk shuddered, his head falling forward against your shoulder. Your smile widened and heat rose in a shiver up your back as you felt his lips and the rough slide of his tongue against your collarbone. His hands took hold of your hips, his ear twitching as your exhale tickled it.

“You’re gonna be nice and quiet for me, right doll?” he asked, his voice deliciously rough as a soft, steady purr reverberated through his chest. You nodded, and his smirk widened, his teeth glinting in the bar light. “That’s my good girl.”

***

You bit back a moan as Husk pressed himself into you at an agonizingly slow pace, the two of you exhaling together as he bottomed out. He withdrew just as slowly, the barbs along the length of his cock making you shudder. His lips dusted over your back, dulled by the fabric of your shirt, his claws pricking at your waist.

He had you bent over the bar, your fingers curled white-knuckled around the edge of the counter. You rocked forward with each gentle, torturous thrust of his hips into your ass, listening to the quiet hums of pleasure he made each time you tightened around him.

“You’re doin’ so good for me, baby,” he murmured, trailing claws down along your thigh. “Such a good girl…”

You whimpered, head falling against your arms as your back arched.

“No, no, no, c’mon kitten,” he whispered, hands tightening as they found your hips. “Eyes up. Don’t want us getting caught, do you?”

You shook your head, a moan catching in your throat as he thrust into you harder than before.

“You sure?” he teased quietly, leaning over you so his breath tickled the back of your neck. “You sure you’re not gettin’ all hot just thinkin’ about gettin’ caught?”

You whined, slapping a hand over your mouth as you rocked your hips back into his.

Husk chuckled in the back of his throat, sliding one hand up under your shirt to slide his claws along the small of your back. “That’s my filthy girl.”

“Fuck, Husk…” you moaned into your palm, eyes rolling back as the bartender’s cock brushed up against that sweet spot inside you. Your thighs were beginning to shake, and you could feel the inside of them growing slick with your own arousal. “Please…”

Husk hummed, his lips touching the nape of your neck. “You wanna cum, baby?”

You nodded eagerly, your brow furrowed with the struggle to keep quiet.

His teeth sunk gently into your skin before he lathed the mark with his tongue. “Go ahead, sweetness. I’ve got you.”

You bit down on your hand as you came, eyes squeezed closed. Husk groaned low in his throat as you tightened around him, his hips stuttering into yours as his own orgasm spilled into you.

“Fuck…” he drew out the word in a shaky whisper, his forehead pressing between your shoulder blades. You whimpered as he pulled out of your slowly, his cum dripping down your thighs. “You’re gonna be the death of me, doll.”

You hummed, light-headed, as you wiped at your thighs with a napkin and pulled your clothes back into place. “Tu me gates toujours si bien, minou.”

Husk smiled affectionately, kissing the corner of your jaw. You pulled his suspender back into place. “Seulement le meilleur pour toi, ma chérie.”

“Y’know,” Angel’s voice suddenly sounded from the other side of the room, and you jerked away from Husk. “You too are cute ‘n’ all, but if you could wrap whatever the fuck you’re doin’ up, some of us need a new drink!”