#LATE AT NIGHT I TOSS AND I TURN AND I DREAM OF WHAT I NEED

[crivalsduo]

holiday spirit

my final fic for @alterdnbweek! i'm so sorry it's a day late, i hope you enjoy.

Techno’s neck was stiff and his back was sore. If he could feel his arm, it would likely be sore as well but his arm had fallen asleep, pinned between Dream’s boney side and the floor. A blanket was haphazardly spread out beneath, all lumps, because neither of them had intended to fall asleep. He didn’t even remember falling asleep. The last thing Techno remembered clearly was laughing as Dream was lying practically on top of him, arguing about who was lamer.

With a yawn, Techno tilted his head left and then right, trying to work out the kink in his neck. Dream was still asleep, turned towards Techno, chest rising and falling steadily. A bit of drool had pooled in the corner of his mouth and his ear flicked occasionally. Techno smiled.

He’s probably gonna have one heck of a headache.

There was a headache trying to creep up on Techno. It was dancing around the edges of his vision. The sunlight that was streaming into the room, brightened by the fresh snow outside, didn’t help matters. But he hadn’t been drunk enough last for the headache to take hold and he hadn’t been drunk enough to forget Dream’s earnest response to his teasing. The pillow that they had tossed back and forth was shoved between them now. Techno lifted his free arm, flexed his fingers, and brushed them against Dream’s cheek. His fur-covered nose twitched but he didn’t open his eyes.

“Sorry, man, I really gotta pee,” Techno whispered as he carefully pulled his arm out from under Dream. It didn’t wake him though he curled up into himself further. Techno took a moment to toss the part of the blanket he’d been lying on over Dream before he stood. His knees creaked when he stood and he made a mental note not to sleep on the floor again. He ducked under some of the holiday decorations hanging in the archway between the living room and the kitchen as he headed towards the bathroom.

By the time he was done, hands still wet and smelling of soap, Dream was still asleep on the floor.

“Dream.” Crouching down next to him, Techno put a hand on Dream’s shoulder. The thought crossed his mind that it’d be kinda funny if he splashed some cold water on him but the look on Dream’s face last night when that confession had slipped out stopped him. Techno gently shook him. “Wakey wakey, Dream.”

One green eye opened and then the other.

“Huh…?”

Sleep was making him slow and it took him a moment to assess the situation, pushing himself up and looking around. A piece of his hear had fallen in front of his face and Techno reached out to brush it back. Dream watched him.

“I said, it’s time to wake up. You’re sleepin’ right in the middle of my floor,” said Techno, hand lingering near Dream’s shoulder as he fully sat upright with a yawn.

“Your—” Another yawn. This one was followed by a disgruntled noise. “Your eggnog sucks, Techno. I feel like shit.”

Techno laughed, doing his best to keep his volume low though it still earned him a feigned dirty look from Dream.

“I don’t think it was the eggnog’s fault, man.”

Looking over at the mug he had shoved under the bookshelf last night (it was now knocked over and pushed further back and if they had taken a closer look, they would’ve found fox fur sticking to it), Dream shrugged.

“Whatever,” he said and held out a hand. Techno took it immediately, lacing their fingers together. A bemused smile twitched across Dream’s face. “Help me up.”

Techno’s cheeks were hot and bright red. He should have known that’s what Dream meant. In hindsight it was obvious. He cleared his throat and stood, pulling Dream up with him.

“Right, right. I knew that.”

Dream wobbled a little, leaning into Techno’s side. He was leaning more than Techno thought was needed, even with the cloud of sleep and eggnog induced hangover clinging to him. A curse was muttered under Dream’s breath about the prosthetic leg before he straightened and looked at Techno. It was the perfect chance for Dream to tease him but that would mean coming very close to acknowledging what had happened last night.

“You—You definitely didn’t,” said Dream.

Both of Techno’s eyebrows shot up. He hadn’t been expecting that.

“Y’know what, you’re right, Dream. I did think you wanted to hold my hand.”

Now it was Dream’s turn to blush, pink and splotchy beneath the thin layer of tan fur.

“Oh my god.”

He had nothing else to say to that and Techno grinned. The fire had gone out – Techno hadn’t planned to fall asleep and so hadn’t put a log or two on – and a slight chill crept into the room. Still leaning into him, Dream was warm and Techno smiled.

“How about I make you some tea?” he asked. “It might help with your headache.”

There was a moment of hesitation and Techno knew that he was debating denying the existence of the headache that was obvious in the way Dream was squinting and his ears were pressed flat. But he nodded, loop his arm around Techno’s. It wasn’t far to the kitchen but Dream’s gait was stiff and he stopped to yawn. Techno glanced up then nudged Dream lightly with his shoulder.

“Look, Dream. Mistletoe.”

Dream’s ears shot forward and he looked up.

“What!? Why—You put mistletoe up?”

The mistletoe was hanging down in the middle of the doorway, between garlands of sweetberry branches. A few red and green plaid bows that had Niki’s distinct flair where nestled in the leaves as well. Techno vaguely remembered helping to hang the garland but if had noticed the mistletoe then, he didn’t remember. He also wasn’t that upset about it.

“It’s a tradition,” said Techno.

“It’s stupid,” said Dream. His cheeks were still pink.

Techno lowered his head just a little.

“It’s festive. C’mon, where’s your holiday spirit?”

The way Dream rolled his eyes with a huff was expected. Techno had seen that exact expression on Dream’s face dozens of times and he never got tired of the amused, mischievous glint in Dream’s eyes that came with it. The crooked grin that his scarred mouth was pulled into was also expected and it was another thing that Techno never got tired of, that after everything, he still found reasons to smile. What was unexpected was the kiss.

Dream tilted his chin up, grin still on his face, and pressed his mouth against Techno’s. It took Techno a second. A noise of surprise tried to work its way out of his throat but he pressed a hand against Dream’s side, carefully tugging him closer, and kissed him back. The kiss tasted like morning breath and old eggnog and cinnamon and Techno could have kissed him just like that forever. The slow, hesitant way Dream finally pulled back made Techno think he felt the same way.

“How’s—How’s that for holiday spirit.”

Techno laughed.

“Smooth, Dream,” he said and kissed him again.

[kajuelle]

Only man that was ever accepted by the Fey Clan, number one women protector, Prosecutor Diego “Godot” Armando

[astrobei]

final battle scene + mike with a sword sequence + holding out for a hero by bonnie tyler send tweet

[big-gay-apocalypse]

where have all the good men gone? where are all the gods? in SPACE, apparently

// Giant-Size Thor (2024) #1

[sachermorte]

but like. where HAVE all the good men gone and where ARE all the gods.

[mooseonahunt]

One day my loyalty won’t be used against me. Not today tho so RIP to me I guess but one day for sure 🙏🏼🙏🏼

[classyrbf]

SHE'S A SUCCUBUS! — CHOSO KAMO

SYNOPSIS...as a sex demon, she can always sense the horny virgin boy who’s dying to lose his virginity

INFO...choso x succubus!reader, sub!choso, virgin!choso, somnophilia, riding, overstim, creampie, oral (m!receiving and f!receiving), slight ass eating, cum eating, doggy, squirting, choso is super needy and eager, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

Choso always felt left out when his friend would constantly talk about all the girls they’ve been with, all the experiences they had and what crazy shit they always got into. He’d just sit there, silent. He couldn’t relate to them not one bit. The closest he’s ever to having sex is his right hand or a sex toy. No girl ever looked his way, and his confidence was crushed. They’d only go after his friends, practically drooling over them. Not one of them spared a glance towards Choso.

He was begging to lose his virginity, dying to know what real pussy felt like, how soft tits felt in his hands or even some ass. God, don’t even get him started on wondering what it feels like to receive head. His friends swear it’s the best thing ever as long as the girl knows what she’s doing. He always watches porn, the women on their knees, slobbering all over the man dick like it was some divine dessert. He loved watching the way their pussies wrapped around the mans dick, just imagining how wet and warm it is. He was a lost cause. At this point, he was ready to pay someone to take his virginity. Literally.

And just like any other night, he goes back home, ready to fuck his fist to another average porn video before dozing off to sleep. He’s been extremely horny lately, more than usual and he can’t understand why. Not to mention the wet dreams he’s been having, waking up to cum in his pants like he’s a damn teenager. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, feeling the need to cum more and more everyday.

Hours later, he’s fast asleep, tossing and turning as he has another wet dream of someone riding him. He can’t make out her face, but it feels so damn real. Everything does. Even her moans and the weight on top of him. “Mmm,” he hums. His brows furrow. He can even hear the sound of skin on skin. His entire body feels like it’s on fire right now, like he’s been hit with some sort of sex pollen. It’s more intense than ever.

Little does he know it’s not a wet dream, no, it’s you. The succubus who’s been watching him for weeks, feeling his urgency to cum, to lose his virginity. He’s summoned you without even realizing. And now you were riding him, gliding your wet pussy up and down his aching cock while he slept, waiting for the moment he wakes up and realizes he’s no longer a virgin. He twists and turns when you run your clawed nails down his pale skin, smiling at the way he moans and whimpers in his sleep.

Choso couldn’t take this overwhelming feeling anymore, forcing himself to wake up, prying his tired eyes open. But the feeling doesn’t stop. The sounds don’t stop. And certainly the woman is his dreams doesnt disappear when he opens his eyes. “Wha—ah—what? Who…? Oh fuck!” He rasps, eyes darting around the room and over your naked body. “What the fuck? Oh my goddd.” As confused and scared as he is right now, he can’t escape the pleasure coursing through him right now.

“Shhh, shhh, just let me make you feel good. You’ve been dying for this haven’t you? I’m here to give you exactly what you want.” You slightly lean back, spreading your legs to let him get a clear view of the way your pussy sucks his cock in.

He looks at you with awe and confusion, but he can’t help but give in, moaning so sweetly when you fully sink down. “Who…who are you?” He gasps, eyes widen when you clench your pussy around him.

“I know when cute virgins like you wanna lose their virginity. You summoned me, accidentally. You’ve been so worked up lately, huh? Well,” you smile, “that was because of me.” His cock twitches inside of you, your hips bouncing faster and harder, watching the way he mouth falls open.

“Fuck, fuck! It’s feels so good,” he heaves, breathing heavily. His cheeks dusted a light pink. “I don’t wanna cum just yet, please slow down. Please, please—nnghhh, fuckkkk.” Choso didn’t stand a chance, shooting sticky ropes of cum into your pussy, his entire body quivering with how intense his orgasm was. “Please, slow down—ah, oh my god. It feels too good—” His eyes rolled into the back of his head as you kept fucking him.

“I’ll keep fucking you till there’s nothing left.” You lean forward, pressing your chest against his, placing your lips on his while you kiss him with such fervor, with such sloppiness. His hands reach down, gripping the plush flesh of your ass. He swears he’s in heaven right now. This can’t be real. No way a sex demon was taking his virginity right now. His dick was so sensitive, but still so hard. He knew he had so much cum left, the only thoughts he had were to fill you up over and over until it was dripping out.

He felt like he was losing his mind, fucking him so hard, creating a sloppy mess where you two met just so you can get him to cum again. Your devilish yet sweet giggles send chills up his spine and straight down to his already throbbing dick. With labored breaths, and his heart rattling against his rib cage, he already knows he’s going to cum again. So soon. “Come don’t hold back on me. I want it all,” you growl in his ear. “I’ll do whatever it takes to empty you dry and fuck you stupid.”

His trembling fingers grip onto your ass harder as he cries out, broken moans swallowed by your kisses and he can’t help but cum again, filling up your tight pussy to the brim. You pull away from the heated kiss looking at the way his hazy eyes stare up at you with such desperation. You halt the movement of your hips and get up from his lap. “No, no, wait. Where are you going?! Please, keep fucking me.” He sits up, watching you get on your knees. Poor thing looks like he’s almost about to cry.

And now he can get a real good view of you. The tail that swayed around and the small little horns that pointed from the top of your head. You really were a sex demon. Your hand took a firm grip on his throbbing cock, his tip leaking like it was begging you to make it cum again. “I can see your thoughts. Your nasty little thoughts.” You run a long stripe from his balls all the way to his tip, licking the excess cum off. Your tongue was freakishly long, but god did it feel so good on him. You spit on his cock, massaging it in as you stroke him, moving your hand in circular motions that make his hips jump. “Say it. I know what you’re thinking.” Your lips curl into a smirk, running the pad of your thumb over his slit.

“Put…put your mouth on it, please,” he says barely above a whisper, too shocked to even form proper words.

“Louder.” You massage his balls with your free hand, earning a guttural groan from him.

“Please, put your mouth on it! Fuck, I wanna know how good it feels!” His lip quivers, his breathing quickening the closer your lips get.

“Good boy.” You smile, darting your tongue out and wrapping it around the base of his cock, swirling it around the head before you take him in your mouth. You stare at him through thick lashes, bobbing your head up and down his thick shaft, spit spilling from the corners of your mouth. Glug, glug, glug.

The sound of you choking on his dick was like music to his hears, taking his all the way down your throat with no problem. How is he supposed to keep up? His brain is fried and his body already feels so weak from cumming two times in a row. But he can’t stop. It’s like you’ve put some kind of spell on him to make him want more. “Shit, I’m all the way in,” he gasps, fall back onto the pillows. You pull him out of your throat, string of saliva connect from your lips to his cock as you continue stroking him. You were so messy, so nasty, but he loved it so fucking much because this is always how he’d picture it.

You spit back on his cock before taking him down your throat again without warning. “Oh my—fuck me, I’m gonna fucking cum again!” He whimpers. His body jolts and his abs tense up at the sensation, pleasure shooting through his body like electricity. He’s so sensitive he can’t help it. His hips buck up into your mouth and next thing he knows, he’s cumming down your throat. “Nnngh shit!” He groans, each orgasm more intense than the last. It’s like as time goes on, he can’t help but get more horny, more greedy.

Within seconds he’s pulling you off his dick on bending you over, pulling your ass in the air. “I’m sorry, I can’t stop, I can’t stop, I can’t,” he’s muttering to himself, sweat dripping down his body. He pushes every inch into you with such ease, like your pussy was made for him. “Feels so good, feels so good I can’t stop stop,” he cries, rummaging his hips into you, fucking hard and fast.

“You’re learning so quickly.” You smile from below him, pushing your ass back against his hips. He watches the way your ass bounces back on his dick and he becomes mesmerized. “That’s it! Fuck me harder. Show me how badly you wanna cum in my pussy again,” you giggle.

Choso pushes your head into the mattress, broken moans falling from his lips. “I need it so badly, so fucking badly.” Your pussy grips him like a vice and he hisses at the tempting feeling.

“Make me squirt all over your cock! Come on, fuck me like you mean it!” You grip the sheets below you, feeling his swollen head press against your sweet spot over and over with each grueling thrust. Upon hearing your words, Choso remembers all those videos he’s watching of girls squirting, and to make you squirt just because of him makes his brain fuzzy. He keeps the same pace, huffing and panting when your pussy grows tighter. “Yes! Yes!” You laugh, sighing in relief when he pulls out and clear liquid shoots from your pussy, coating his cock and sheets.

His eyebrows raise in amazement. “Holy fuck,” he watches the way your pussy leaks before urgently ramming his cock back inside of you. “Do it again. Squirt all over me again! Please! It’s so fucking hot!” He begs as he pounds your pussy like his life depends on it. “Wanna watch you—nnngh—squirt again!”

As if on cue, your pushy gushes around him again, soaking his thighs and his cock and just the sight of it makes him cum so hard he’s toppling over you. “Fuck! I’m cumming!” He thrusts deep inside of you, making sure not to waste even a drop. “Yes, yes!” He huffs, bucking his hips. “I need to taste you, need to fucking—mmm.” He drops to his knees, pulling your ass back against his face while his tongue slurps every drop his cum and your juices, licking through your sloppy folds and sucking on your clit.

“Eager little thing, aren’t you? Such a good, good boy.” You praise, reaching behind you, taking a fistful of his hair and pushing his face deeper into your cunt. His moans at your taste, his free hand reaching down to stroke his swollen and sensitive cock. He moves his tongue up and down, running back and forth between your clit and your ass, and back down to your hole. You quickly pull him away before sitting up.

“Did I do something wrong? Why’d you stop?” He looks at with sad eyes.

“You’re done.” You look down at his cock.

“No, no, I’m not. I promise I still have more. Just keep fucking me, let me eat your pussy or something! Don’t leave!” He pouts, watching you crawl towards him.

“As much as I’d like to keep playing with you, you’re all out of cum, pretty boy.” You smirk. “I’ve got other desperate virgins like you to attend to.” You ghost your lips over his and Choso leans in for a kiss but you pull back from him. “You’re welcome.”

You disappear into a dark corner in his room, like you faded away into it. He runs to turn on his light and sees you’re completely gone. He’s at a loss for words, standing in the middle of his room completely naked. He looks towards his bed, seeing the wet spots you had left. So it was real? No? Yes? He didn’t know what to believe. He accidentally summoned a sex demon to take his virginity. If only he could do it again.

[mookiesspace]

GHOSTFACE EREN . . . .

it was late at night, wind blowing thru your thick curls as you smoked a blunt while gazing at the city through your highrise apartment balcony. tonight was so calm, autumn leaves blowing in the wind so effortlessly, sucking in the beautiful atmosphere of the night you sigh deeply before taking another puff of your shit. today was busy, you barely had a chance to relax all week. this is all you needed right now, some self love and a thick (dick) blunt to get the night going!

laying in bed mindlessly scrolling through your instagram feed while partynextdoor softly plays in the background of your large bedroom. small yawns escape your mouth while you toss and turn around in the huge bed, eventually throwing your phone down in attempt to end the night hoping for a peaceful day tomorrow.

CRASH!!* you feel your body jolt up in nervousness and confusion as you look around the room. was someone here you thought "Hello?.." you utter grabbing your phone to use the bright flashlight slowly exiting the bed while sliding into your furry pink slippers. body shivering as your throw a silk robe onto your almost fully exposed body, walking out the room quietly to explore the 'empty' apartment. "Hello!.." you whisper-yell in attempt to catch someone breaking in, only to be greeted by more silence. you check the entire house feeling uneasy, body growing tense as you turn each corner still seeing nothing. "What the fuck was that.. shit maybe I'm hearing things.." you spoke lowly, returning back to your room only to feel a strong muscular hand grip the back of your neck while letting out a low growl "or maybe you just need better detective skills, hm?" your frozen in fear. unable to move or say anything, body stuck with thick tension pooling through the mist of air. "Please don't hurt me! I'll do anything please just leave!.." you cry out, tears beginning to form in the corners of your eye. shit shit shit! who's here and what does he want with you!?! well, the only sensible thing of course.. he wants you.

"s-shit! aa-ah slow dowwnnnnn!" you moaned out, legs up pressed roughly against your chest as the tall masked man fucks his thick cock into your warm cunt. juices spilling out everywhere against your bed and his lower abdomen while he harshly smacks your ass watching the soft brown skin recoil in motion. beautiful brown eyes looking lowly at the man infront of him, trying to comprehend the mess your in right now. "plleaseeeee!" you yelp, moans and cries falling along deaf ears as he fucks your harder. thick tip hitting the base of your cervix, hitting that gummy spot so perfectly sending you into a spiral of uncontrollable moans and whines while drool pools out the side of your mouth, tongue hanging low for him to see. "good girl.." he mutteres, low husky voice muffled from the white mask that protects his face, keeping him anonymous, sending shivers down your spine and even more wetness to your aching core. it was all to much, this couldn't be real could it?? you had to be dreaming! this was crazy!.. you try pushing his body off your feeling your release build up once again having you shaking uncontrollably. "none of that shit." he growled big hands gripping yours pulling them down as he leans more forward to fuck you deeper "fuuuckkk!! I c-can-" "take this shit and I'll make this easy for you." he demands sending another harsh smack to your fat ass, pumping his thick dick in and out of you faster than before. you're close.. so so close.. you can feel it. and before you know it your creaming all over his dick, legs shaking, whining and panting rapidly in attempt to catch your breath. you feel your body heat slow down as he rests himself into you, he pulls put before pumping his dick in close release "open up." he hissed, eyes watery and low you complie opening your mouth, letting your tongue hand low for him as he pumps his hot seed onto it. he grips your face tightly pulling his body closer than before "swallow." he ordered, and you do.. you swallow it all.. like the good girl you are. before being let go, head falling back against the soft pillow panting restlessly watching as he steps back, reapplying his tight all back compression shirt and Grey sweats. your gaze is strong, enchanting even.. halfway out the bedroom door her turns to you "next time remember to lock your doors doll.. this could've ended badly." he chuckles lowly.

[hollandsangel]

2:15 am | c. sturniolo

HI yes im alive who’s surprised (me, i am)

self proclaimed mayor of the ‘chris can’t sleep alone’ club (doing gods work, you’re welcome)

summary: chris cant sleep & you’re the perfect remedy

wc: 834

gif by @hotelstares !

you haven’t been asleep very long. maybe twenty minutes or half an hour.

you’re in the midst of a fuzzy dream when your phone starts to vibrate on your dresser next to your bed. the sound is difficult to recognize at first, getting all mixed up with your dream in your mind. eventually it wakes you up, tugging you away from the soft haze you’d been emersed in.

groggily, you reach over for the device, squinting your eyes to try and read the contact. your eyes are bleary, but you’re able to make out your boyfriends name and contact photo after a brief seceond.

“chris?” you wonder through the line upon answering, voice thick with sleep and hardly above a whisper.

“hey ma,” his voice is smooth, like he hasn’t been asleep yet.

“hi…i think i was dreaming about you,” you say as you let your head fall back against the pillow, rubbing gently at your eyes with your other hand.

“yeah?” he says through a deep breath. the smile your confession elicits from him is audible and contagious.

“yeah, either that or i just spent the last four days with you and my brain hasn’t realized we’re apart yet,” you think he must be able to hear your smile as well.

“my brain hasn’t really realized it either,” he mumbles, getting a little bit shy.

you close your eyes, content being soothed by his voice.

“what time is it?” you ask him, even if you could easily look at your phone screen for the answer. opening your eyes feels like too much work.

chris answers of course, without hesitation, “2:15,”

“it’s pretty late, you okay, bub?” you ask him before answering your own question, “can’t sleep?” you know how he gets, always needing someone close by when he drifts off.

you can imagine it’s a bit difficult tonight, considering you spent the last few nights sharing his bed. you’d found it a little harder than normal too, having gotten used to his arms tucked around you, his face pressed against your shoulder blade.

“i miss you,” he mutters and it makes you blush, “and i don’t wanna crawl into bed with matt or nick, i know it won’t help,” he admits, letting out a long breath.

“you wanna come over?”

“would that be okay?” he seems a little bit embarrassed, like he might be inconveniencing you.

“of course, chris,” you open your eyes now, reaching over to turn on your bedside lamp, “i want cuddles now,” you say sheepishly, face still half pressed against your pillow, muffling the words.

“mmk, i’ll get an uber, be there soon,”

“kay, love you,” you sigh, waiting for him to hang up.

“love you too,” he says first, making you smile even if you’ve heard it a thousand times.

in the twenty minutes it takes for chris to show up, you’re drifting in and out of sleep, trying your hardest to keep the lull of exhaustion at bay as you wait, no matter the difficulty.

soon enough, the sound of a key in the lock sends a small jolt of wakefulness through you, and you anticipate the subtle push of the door as he comes through to your bedroom.

“nick or matt’s bed wasn’t good a enough?” you tease, watching him turn a little red as he shuffles into your room.

“i wanted to sleep in your bed,” he mumbles, beanie hanging low and covering his eyebrows, pajama pants hanging lower. he lifts the duvet and crawls in with you, immediately wrapping you in his arms, “nd’ i wanted to sleep with you, not my stinky brothers.”

you laugh, stifling it against the blankets “m glad you’d rather snug with me,”

“you kidding? you’re the best snugger around.”

“i’d say,” you hum, tugging his beanie off and tossing it somewhere on your floor.

he gives you a squeeze before reaching over to turn you so you’re facing him, “thanks for letting me come over,” he mutters, beaming in the low light. he looks so pretty like this, grinning down at you, illuminated by the soft glow of your lamp. he reaches up slightly and brushes your hair from your face.

you have a small moment of realization; he’s admiring you the same way you’re admiring him. you think your heart grows in size, gratitude making it swell up.

“thanks for comin’,” you whisper back, leaning up so your noses touch.

chris closes the gap, giving you a gentle kiss before pulling back and kissing your forehead too.

“night,” he tucks you against him, keeping you close, “i love you,” it’s sweet, how his tone changes. it’s tired now, chalked full of sleep and you can’t help but think it’s because he’s with you now, and that’s what puts him at ease enough to finally relax.

“i love you too,” you whisper into the barely-there space between you, watching as his eyes close and his lashes kiss the tops of his cheeks.

you can’t help yourself, leaning forward just enough to kiss him there too.

.

.

.

.

tags ! @st4rswrld @urfavvev3lyn @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears @its-jennarose @strnilolo @grimholic @tworosesblackthorn @mattscoquette @dazednmatthews @pinkishpearls

[steddieas-shegoes]

“any regrets? anything you’d do differently?”

eddie knows the interviewer is just doing her job, probably doesn’t even realize that’s the worst question she could ask. but the guys tense and the air gets thick and something shifts inside eddie’s chest.

“it’s been two years and i still haven’t apologized.”

the interviewer doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about, but she doesn’t need to. he’s not gonna explain more than that and he doesn’t care if people make their own connections and excuses.

maybe steve will hear it. maybe robin will. maybe dustin will convince steve to call him.

or maybe he was cryptic for nothing and steve will keep ignoring his calls. he used to think his timing sucked until mike let it slip that he lets all calls go to his answering machine to avoid picking up when eddie calls him.

eddie only calls on bad nights, if he’s drunk or high, or sometimes on the nights that could only be better if steve was by his side. eddie calls most nights.

the interview is done and eddie is being whisked away, getting berated by their publicist about his answer to a question that can never have a good one. the guys are pretending not to listen, but failing. eddie loves them for trying.

the next interview, he stays quiet, at least as much as he can get away with. he fakes a smile, a laugh, whatever it takes to seem like he didn’t just admit that he fucked up on live television.

they get to sleep in their own beds tonight, but tomorrow is the start of their radio show tour to promote their album. it’ll be two weeks long, hitting the major stations daily until they’ve answered all the hard hitting questions like if gareth snores or if they ever find time to eat healthy on tour.

but his bed is his least favorite place to sleep, and no amount of tossing and turning is gonna give him what he needs.

so he calls steve.

“harrington’s house, you’ve reached the harrington who actually lives here.”

eddie’s so shocked that steve answered he barely even registers his words.

“hello?” steve’s voice turns serious. “anyone there?”

“stevie?”

eddie shouldn’t have started with that, but he wasn’t in control of his body anymore.

steve hangs up.

somehow it’s worse than if he hadn’t answered at all.

but eddie is fine. he is.

he’s gonna close his eyes and go to sleep and maybe not dream about dying or fucking up the only good thing he ever had.

his phone rings and he’s almost certain he’s dreaming already.

“hello?”

“sorry i panicked.”

steve’s voice is like a reverb in an arena, sending chills down eddie’s arms.

“you’re not the only one.”

“but…you called me.”

“because you never answer.”

“so why call? if i’m never gonna answer.”

“because if you do answer, i can hear your voice.”

steve sits with that answer for a minute before he speaks.

“dustin played me the interview.”

“yeah.”

“was it me? was i your regret?”

how could steve think that? how could the man who saved his life ever believe he was anything less than a gift? in no universe would eddie regret steve.

“no. my regret is making you ever think that you could be a mistake.”

eddie should end it there, let steve marinate with that. he knows no amount of apologies will actually help, but he could give it a try anyway.

“i’m sorry i left when you needed me. i’m sorry i was selfish and chose to get out and leave you behind. and i’m sorry none of my sorries even matter because it’s too late.”

for a minute—yes, eddie counts— there’s silence. and then there’s a small shuffling sound and eddie’s almost sure that steve’s gonna hang up.

instead, steve sounds like he’s holding back tears when he speaks.

“are you gonna come back?”

eddie can’t. he can’t just put a pause on the band or any of their plans. it’s not fair to the guys or the fans or himself.

but he can do something he should’ve done two years ago.

“will you come with me?”

the question hangs in the air for what feels like forever. steve may say no. that’s part of why eddie didn’t even ask the first time. but he may say-

“yes.”

“you will?”

“on one condition.”

“anything.”

“you stop trying to forget all the bad parts. the bad parts sucked, but they brought us together. running from them means running from me. at least hold my hand so i can run with you.”

eddie thinks maybe he could write a song about that.

and he thinks he’d like to hold steve’s hand while he does.

[ex-jock-enthusiast]

@araneid-fur and their phenomenal transformation. When Bonnie Tyler said 'late at night I toss and I turn and I dream of what I need' I have no doubt this is what she meant.

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 205 }

midnights spent with you.

sylus x (non mc)fem.reader

you could feel the exhaustion seeping into your very bones the moment you came home late at night. running a hand across your hair, you take quick strides toward onychinus’s headquarters and saw some movement from your periphery. turning to the side, you saw a familiar, mechanical crow tailing your every movement and smile, knowing just who he belonged to.

as you hum one of your favorite songs, you take the elevators all the way to the top floor, already knowing that mephisto would return to his master at the penthouse, alerting him of your arrival home. with you settled in front of your door, you unlock it and announce your arrival, only to be met with silence.

“i’m home.” you speak out once more, this time a bit louder, yet the results were the same-

an almost unnatural quiet.

anxiety was felt coursing through your veins as you dropped your bag and made a beeline toward the stairs, taking them two steps at a time as you hurriedly reached the master bedroom. seeing the heavy oak doors within your sights, you grasp at the handles and push them wide open.

as you step inside your shared bedroom, you visibly relax upon seeing sylus sleeping (which was already a rare sight in and of itself.) trailing your gaze across the room, you saw mephisto was already perched on top of his usual spot, sifting through his feathers with his beak as soft cawing noises were heard from him. giving the crow a wistful smile, you return your attention back to the sleeping man settled in bed.

with his silver hair splayed on top of the plush pillows, you saw the way his eyelids trembled, alerting you of his sleeping state and how he was currently caught up in a dream. your hands ached with the need to thread your fingertips into his hair, brushing back those soft strands while littering his face with butterfly kisses (kisses that were no heavier than dew.)

a smile paints your eager expression when you slowly took off your work clothes, tossing the clothes inside of the hamper before donning one of sylus’s shirts over your form, heading towards the bed with the intention of spoiling him with your affections.

your movements remain careful, with the luxurious bed dipping ever so slightly with your added weight settled on top of it. wishing to take advantage of his sleeping form, you gently lean closer to him, not stopping until the entirety of your weight was settled across his chest. letting out a soft coo of his name, you lean forward and began pressing gentle kisses all across his features.

from the sharp shape of his brow to his chiseled jawline, you bask in the warmth of his skin felt beneath your lips. you truly adored every inch of him, and felt saddened at the fact that you couldn’t show him just how much he meant to you every single second of the day. while continuing your kisses against his skin, you smile and finally aim for his lips, pressing what you assumed would be a simple and chaste kiss against them.

however, upon feeling the sensation of your kiss, sylus begins to stir in his sleep, as if becoming awakened by your kiss. he ends up responding beautifully to you, slotting his lips against yours, expertly deepening it when you let out a sudden moan in response. you feel the way his large hands delve into your hair, pulling you so close to him that your chest was felt pressing against his in response.

several seconds later, you let out a sigh when sylus pulls away from you, eyes shining with amusement when he sees the way your lips had become swollen after his kiss. he teases you, lifting up your chin so that he could get a better look at your lovesick expression.

“what’s this? i didn’t peg you as the type to attack me in my sleep, darling.” you giggle and shake your head, leaning down to press a series of lingering kisses against his jawline.

“forgive me… i just couldn’t help but bask in your beauty and spoil you with kisses while you slept…”

you listen to his rich chuckles, allowing his powerful arms to wrap around your back as he brings you back to his chest. feeling his lips trailing across the expanse of your neck makes you shiver in response, giggling in delight the more he spoiled you with such affectionate caresses.

after spending quite some time basking in each other’s arms, sylus lays in bed and takes your body with him, becoming the big spoon as he held you tightly within his embrace. you smile in response and push your back further against his chest, earning a grumpy grunt from him.

“careful, sweetie, you may end up playing with fire if you come any closer to me.”

“hehe… well… let’s just say i don’t mind getting burned.”

sylus lets out a scoff before leaning closer to you, whispering “brat,” against your ear before biting down against the shell of it, earning a series of giggles from you. after being subjected to sylus’s lovebites against your skin, the exhaustion finally hits as you let out a yawn, making sylus run the back of his hand across your cheek.

“is my princess finally getting sleepy?”

you could only manage a nod in response, your body going slack while taking a hold of sylus’s arms, wrapping them around your front as your eyelids grew heavier.

sylus presses a kiss against your hair while letting out a gentle command, “sleep now, and i’ll treat you to something nice in the morning. perhaps you’d like to pay that café a visit and indulge on some chocolate croissants?”

you let out a soft hum in agreement, already falling asleep as a smile was seen gracing your features. with amusement shining in his gaze, sylus takes a moment to admire your features now painted in a deep slumber, brushing back your hair while quietly cursing to himself.

“how dare you keep me wrapped around your fingers so easily?” sylus asks you in an incredulous manner, unable to believe that his love for you turned him almost too soft for his liking-

and although he would never admit this to you, sylus found himself not caring about how only you alone could bring out such a side of him.

a.n. - i got so many amazing content from sylus today after unlocking his workouts on quality time, obtaining his nightplumes pull, and unlocking his midnight warmth audio all in the span of one night 😭 i am filled with such love and adoration for sylus that i had to write something soft and sweet for him 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[obeymematches]

Hello~! Can I request a headcanon for an Mc that can’t sleep alone? Like they feel much safer sleeping next to someone. Thank you so much and take as much time as you need~! ☺️

ohhh i know how you feel, i also prefer sleeping with someone 💓 thank you for sending in a request & inspiring me, i had fun writing this💫

💤Sleeping together💤

Lucifer:

He is awake when you go over to his room. He didn't have intentions to sleep yet but he wants what is best for you. It is your secret mission to get him to do what is best for him. He gets addicted to sleeping with you also. Even if he has evening plans with Diavolo / he seriously has to work late he insists you stay in his room & he joins when he can.

Nothing could make me more at ease than feeling you sleep by my side.

Mammon:

Guess what MC he can't sleep without you either!! Whew good thing you two are on the same page!! He must hold you with his arms AND his legs to fall asleep. After that he'll toss and turn though. Gets super sad if you tell him no sleeping together tonight. He would never do this to you!! 😩

Are ya comfy MC? Wanna stroke my hair? Just a little?

Leviathan:

Quickly becomes addicted to your warmth surrounding him through the night. Never let go pls. You are a very good influence on his sleep schedule! Doesn't get as clingy as Mammon but damn he is very close to that level. Must get a bigger blanket so you stop stealing it so easily!

There there MC! My only duty now is to keep you warm!

Satan:

Oh you won't get him to sleep when he doesn't want to so easily. He lets you sleep on his bed but he isn't in a rush to join you in dreamland; yes he does lay next to you but he is still busy reading! Loves to cuddle even though you might not remember much of it the next day. I think he doesn't complain if you sleep together often as long as you are not demanding it.

Nights with you are the most peaceful. Thank you  for being with me MC.

Asmodeus:

Gotcha! He suggests sleeping together before you do! Never ever complains if you want to spend the night! Free to cuddle any time of the day if you want to nap!

My dove, resting with you calms me down every night. You look cute when you are sound asleep, did you know?

Beelzebub:

Blushes at the suggestion of helping you sleep solely by being next to you. Very careful not to be too heavy for you! Would never dare to suggest it but gladly sleeps with you every night if that's what you wish!

MC.... I love you so much, being your pillow is my pleasure!

Belphie:

Honestly he doesn't mind if you randomly visit him through the night to sleep with him. If he likes you he is going to make sure you have the best sleep of your life and you become addicted to him quickly.

That's it MC, now close your eyes and take a rest. I'll be guarding your dreams.

Diavolo:

Ah his lonely ass is craving your company 0-24 so honestly he would never refuse sleeping together. Has to make sure he has the most comfortable beddings on! Please cuddle him like his life depends on it, he is going to devote himself pretty soon if you keep it going!

I can't believe I was missing out on this feeling... somehow your presence makes me feel safe. I don't understand how either.

Barbatos:

Hmmm I think he likes his independence but how could he refuse you? You can rarely sleep together though so he isn't going to be the best candidate for this request unfortunately :( If you do though it's going to make you view him in a very different light; he rarely lets anyone see hin so vulnerable!

On one condition, we can sleep together. No taking pictures, you can only close your eyes and sleep!

Solomon:

Ohhh a feeling he was longing for for so long... and now it happens every night. He probably doesn't go to sleep early though so he just joins when he is ready to sleep. It is his pleasure to cuddle you through the night!

I could really get used to this, MC. Shall we do this tomorrow as well?

Simeon:

Okay one step at a time! First just cuddling on the couch, then on the bed, only after that you might sleep together! Doesn't complain though and feels bad for making you wait so long. Loves to caress your back as you're cuddled up to his chest!

This feeling.... do you feel it too, MC? I never want this moment to end.

[annwrites]

⸻ exactly what he needs. part six. ⸻

· pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader · type: part of a series · summary: nate brings you breakfast to help w/ your hangover & then you have your first time. · tw: eating, lying, major manipulative move on nate’s part, sex · word count: 4,577 · a/n: i messed up a few posts ago when i put that the writing on the back of the pic that nate stole said ‘05. he was born in 2001. so, they, for one, wouldn’t have been in kindergarten yet, and, for two, wouldn’t have been 7-8 yrs old. i was thinking about myself, who was born in ‘98 when doing that math. please ignore lol.

When you wake, your headache has dissipated marginally. Nate’s strong, warm body is still wound around yours, and the TV against the wall is on low volume, some action movie playing.

You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, wishing you could remember the events of last night.

You’d had strange dreams. You’d been in the bathroom with Cassie again, and had woken with a jolt at one point at the sound of something shattering, someone trying to beat down the door, screaming your name. You’d felt trapped in there, you and Cassie staring at each other in terror. Only when the door opened did you hear the sound of glass breaking and wake.

You’d fallen back asleep again after that and had dreams of you and Nate in the pool. You’d been naked—skinny dipping—and only when you had lifted your head from his shoulder to look at him, did his features shift into something menacing—something terrifying—and he shoved your head under the water.

You were drowning.

Suffocating.

You couldn’t breathe.

You’d woken again, heart pounding, but relaxed at the feeling of his arms around you, knowing you were safe.

You told yourself the bad dreams were just a result of the alcohol. Nothing more.

You slowly sit up, Nate’s hand sliding down your side, onto your bare thigh. He sits up with you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Morning, angel.”

You press a small kiss to his nose, making him smile before you get up, padding into the bathroom, softly shutting the door behind you.

Once you’ve relieved yourself, you hear a light knock on the door. “Are you okay, do you need my help?”

“No, thank you. I just need a few minutes.”

He hesitates for a moment before finally stepping away.

Once you’ve showered, brushed your teeth—thoroughly—and ripped through the tangles in your hair, do you emerge from his bathroom with a towel wrapped around you.

You find him lying back on the bed, eyes now on you, watching as you select a plain gray t-shirt from his closet, sliding it onto your torso.

You then walk over to the bed, climbing into his lap, resting your head against his shoulder while he holds you.

“How do you feel?” He asks, lips against your hair.

You shrug. “A little better.”

He slips one of his hands under the shirt, rubbing up and down against your bare back. “Are you hungry?”

You groan. “I don’t know if eating is a good idea.”

He chuckles. “It’ll help soak up whatever alcohol is left in your system. And your stomach is on empty right now.”

He gently moves you off of him, deciding for you.

“Just stay up here and relax.” He hands you the TV remote. “You can watch whatever you like. I’ll go make you something to eat.”

He pulls on a pair of shorts and a white t-shirt before stepping over to the door. He turns back to you after opening it. “Any special requests?”

You shake your head. “Whatever you want to make is fine. Thank you,” you say with a sweet smile.

He nods, heading downstairs.

You lie back on his bed, opening Netflix to find something more preferable to your tastes to watch.

When Nate enters the kitchen, his mom is just heading in from outside, hair tied back as she removes her gardening hat, tossing it onto the kitchen island.

“Someone is a late riser today.”

He walks over to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of Powerade. “Y/N is.” He seats himself at the island, unscrewing the lid. “Hungover.”

Her eyes widen. “Getting her drunk already, sweetie? Or is that just the way she is?”

She hopes not. She’d thought her a good girl.

He rolls his eyes, taking a drink. “I fucked up. Took her to a party last night that someone like her had no business being at in the first place.”

She feels relieved to hear it.

She pulls the Britta out of the fridge, retrieving a glass and pouring. “Trying to corrupt her already, huh?”

He slams his bottle down. “Jesus fucking Christ, why am I always the villain?”

She puts the Britta away, raising her hands. “Jeez, sorry, don’t bite my head off. Just trying to joke with you.”

She takes a sip of her water. “Has she eaten yet?”

He shakes his head.

“Would you like for me to make her some lunch?”

He leans forward, forearms resting on the countertop. “I’d appreciate it.”

She turns around, retrieving a pan. “How does grilled cheese and tomato soup sound? Would she like that, or should I make something else?”

“That’s fine.”

Once Marsha has retrieved the required cookware and ingredients, she turns her back to him, facing the stove. “So, I know I’m about to be a mom, but bear with me.” She’s quiet for a moment and Nate braces himself for whatever nonsense might be about to come out of her mouth. “I know it’s still a little early, but: do you have feelings for her?”

He takes another drink. “Yes.”

She nods. “And does she have feelings for you?”

He thinks about how you’d had your naked body pressed to his all night for comfort and security. About the way you look at and touch him. “Yes.”

She smiles to herself.

“I don’t want you to think that I was eavesdropping, because I wasn’t,” his back immediately stiffens. “But I heard the two of you in the kitchen yesterday morning. The things she said to you.”

She stirs the tomato soup, glancing to him over her shoulder. “I really, really like this one, Nate. She’s good for you. I know I once said that I liked Cassie, too. But that was before I heard her ranting and raving in your room one night screaming about how crazy she is. Y/N seems…different. Mature, sweet, good-hearted, even…” She trails off for a moment. “Unless she turns out to be insane, too. I mean, clearly I know how to pick ‘em.”

She briefly wonders if he inherited his poor taste in romantic partners from her. Not that Cal is all bad. But sometimes…sometimes when she looks at him all she sees is a stranger.

Not the man she had once adored with her entire heart. Not the man who she sometimes spent entire weekends in her bed with as a teenager. Not the man she had married.

Not the man who she had made two children with.

“She’s nothing like Cassie. Honestly, she’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met.” He looks at the back of her head. “You do realize I’ve known her since kindergarten, right?”

Her brows furrow. “Really?”

“Mhm. We were just never really friends before now.”

She slides the sandwich onto a plate, then dumps the soup into a bowl.

“What changed?” She asks, retrieving a spoon and a napkin, setting it all onto a small portable tray, sliding it in front of him.

“I finally realized what I needed, instead of what I thought I wanted.”

When Nate returns to his room, you’re lying on the bed, pillow bunched up underneath your head, arms wrapped around it. Your left leg is bent far enough up that your pussy is on full display for him; your right leg stretched out straight as you watch the TV with interest. Some fantasy movie, of course, playing.

He kicks the door shut behind him and you sit up then, taking the tray from him once he’s at the side of the bed, with an appreciative smile.

He pushes some hair from your face with his hand, pressing a firm kiss to your forehead. “Just try not to get anything on the bed.”

You nod. “I won’t.”

He never eats in bed himself, the thought of rolling around in crumbs makes his skin crawl.

Before you take a bite of your sandwich, you look up to him. “Did…did you make this?”

He nods. “I’ve never cooked for anyone else before today.”

You feel warmth bloom in your chest at that. You smile shyly. “Between this and letting me drive your truck I’m starting to feel like a special exception.”

That’s the reason I did it, he thinks. He looks at you with a smile. “You are, baby.”

As you eat, Nate picks up his room, throwing your laundry and his both into his hamper, straightening up here and there, even if his room stays organized enough that it’s not really needed. But he hates any sort of disorderliness.

It was one of the first things he came to appreciate about you when it came to seeing your house: everything was clean and tidy and in its place.

He hates slovenly people.

Finally, he sits in his computer chair, leaning back, watching as you eat.

You take small bites, sipping at your soup, occasionally taking a drink of water.

“How is it?” He asks.

You nod, swallow, then reply. “Really good. It’s one of my favorites, actually. Thank you.”

He smiles. “You’re welcome. I just feel like shit for letting you get so loaded.”

You shake your head. “It’s not your fault. Don’t worry: I never plan to drink ever again,” you say with a small laugh.

He smirks. “That’s what we all say until the opportunity inevitably presents itself again.”

You take another sip of your soup, licking your lips. “Not me.”

Once you’ve finished eating, you stand, picking up the tray from his bed and heading to the door.

He stands as well. “I can get that.”

You smile. “It’s okay.” You shift from one foot to the other. “I was actually thinking… Since you’ve gone through my room, and I haven’t really looked around yours very much,” not that there seems to be much to it in terms of personalization to begin with, you think. “Maybe I can browse a bit when I come back up?”

Just the fucking opportunity I need, he thinks with excitement. “Yeah, sure.”

You head downstairs and he panickedly looks around his room. “Fuck, fuck where is it? Where the fuck did I put it?”

He throws himself on the floor, looking under his bed, which is spotless.

He stands, ready to pull his goddamn hair out from frustration, until his head jerks toward his hamper, which hasn’t been emptied in awhile. How the fuck could he have forgotten to take it out?

He digs through the dirty laundry, until he’s nearly reached the bottom and he wrenches out a pair of jeans, digging through all the pockets, until he finally finds it in the last one he looks in.

He quickly walks over to his desk, grabbing a roll of scotch tape and sticking the object to his bedroom mirror.

He then sits down, heart hammering, and he waits.

When you come back upstairs, you’re grateful no one had seen you wandering down to the kitchen in just one of Nate’s t-shirts…again.

You shut the door behind you and wander over to his bench press first, looking at the weights. You look back to him then, where he’s now sitting on the edge of his bed, watching you intently. “How many pounds do you normally lift?”

He nods toward the barbell. “That one is two-hundred and twenty pounds.”

You flush, liking that response. So strong, you think.

You sit down on it and position your legs under the leg lift and try to push…and fail miserably.

He looks at you with an amused smirk. “Having trouble?”

You push again and then promptly give up. If anything, it just makes heat pool between your legs when you think of how easy it had been for him to do it.

You stand then. “I was just warming up.”

He chuckles.

You walk over to his desktop setup. “Do you ever play games?”

Not that kind, he thinks. “Not really. I mostly use it for schoolwork.”

You nod, refraining from going through the cabinets to the side.

You then look at his fancy stereo system, then the basket beside it, which houses a couple footballs and a basketball.

You glance at the storage at the foot of his bed, which is full of Nikes, then come to stand in front of his dresser and look at him over your shoulder with a raised brow before opening the top drawer.

He smirks, watching you imitate how he looked through your top drawer yesterday.

And you find nothing of interest, just some boxers, briefs, socks, and some wife-beaters. You shut the drawer then.

You look at the picture of the F-16, which hangs behind his bed. “Is being a pilot something you sometimes think about?”

“My mom is the one who decorated in here.”

Explains the monogrammed pillows, you think.

Besides the photo and a jersey which hangs on the wall, you finally realize just how minimalist and non-personal his room really is. You wonder why there’s no knick-knacks or décor of any kind. Then again, he seems to be a bit of a neat-freak, and sometimes despising clutter comes with the territory.

You look at the mirror against the wall and your brows furrow.

You step over to it, pulling at the Polaroid stuck to it, taking a closer look.

And your heart stops.

The one personal thing he does have—the only thing—is a photo of the two of you from when you were little.

Tears sting your eyes. “Where…where did you get this?” You ask in a whisper.

“Found it a few months ago in a box of old stuff I had. Decided to hang it up. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure why I did. Just…I just like looking at it for some reason.”

You look at him.

“Maddy fucking hated it. Cassie acted jealous, even if we were only a few years old in it and we weren’t even talking at the time when she and I were…doing whatever the fuck we were doing.”

You look back down to the picture, turning it over, looking at the writing on the back, then looking at the picture again.

“Do…do you remember that day?”

He stays silent, hoping to fucking God if he does, you’ll continue, and give him some clue as to when it was taken exactly. So he can try and fill in blanks to pretend like it’s a day he could never forget.

You look at him.

“You do, too?” He asks.

You nod, looking at it. “It was the last day of kindergarten. And my birthday. My…” You swallow, throat tightening. “The bear on my bed was your gift to me.”

Nate’s jaw drops, just slightly. He didn’t remember any of it. And he’s sure the gift was most-likely selected by his mom, but it was the fact you’d kept it—something that had come from him so long ago—it meant…he’s not sure what it means. Just that whatever it is: it means a lot of it.

“I wasn’t sure if it looked familiar or not.”

You let out a teary laugh.

“The cake was good, though.” He adds, hoping there was a fucking cake.

“Ice cream. We got so messy.”

“Vanilla, right?”

Your heart melts that he remembers. “Yes.”

“Do you remember that we fed some to each other? Well, kind of shoved it in each other’s faces. After your mom cleaned us up, my dad took this picture.”

He comes to stand beside you. “Maybe it sounds stupid, but it was one of the best days of my life.”

You press the picture back against the mirror, then look up to him. “I-”

You stop, shutting your mouth. And then you do it. Say it. Because you mean it. “I love you.”

His heart swells with pride. He’d done it—it’d fucking worked. And you’d believed every lie, every word, that left his mouth so easily.

He leans down, cupping your cheeks in his hands.

“I know it may seem soon. Really soon. And-”

“I love you, too,” he replies softly, the look in his eyes only further confirming that he truly means it.

He presses his lips to yours then and kisses you so achingly soft. He doesn’t use tongue, doesn’t deepen it, just…kisses you, pouring his heart into it.

When he pulls away, the way he looks at you…no one has ever looked at you like that before. Not even him. Not before this moment.

“I feel like we were meant to find our ways back to each other,” he whispers, brushing the pad of his thumb against your lower lip and you see his eyes grow glassy and you know he’s fighting back tears.

And one slips from your own, which he wipes away.

“Nate, do you-” You pause for a moment, heart pounding. And then you continue. “Do you have any condoms?”

He studies you for a moment—his mind practically fucking exploding from excitement that this had played out exactly as he’d hoped.

God, you really are a sentimental creature.

He nods. “Baby, are you sure about this?” He hates questioning it, but hopes that doing so will only draw you in closer. That instead of him running across the room to grab one, he’s instead more concerned for you, ensuring that this is what you truly want.

You reach up, running your fingers through his soft brown hair. “Yes.”

He considers you for a moment—rather, pretends to—before pressing a soft, loving kiss to your forehead and stepping away, taking your hand in his as he leads you over to the bed.

He reaches down, slipping his t-shirt from you, before looking over your naked body. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful. Do you even understand how beautiful you are?”

He cups one of your cheeks again, his other hand holding your hip, rubbing his thumb against it.

You only look at him.

He pulls his shirt off, then lowers his body onto yours, the both of you settling comfortably against the bed. He helps you scoot back, until your head is resting against his pillows. He first kisses your forehead, maybe half-a-dozen times, then each of your cheeks, your nose, your chin, before giving you his lips. You open your mouth, your tongue searching for his. And you find it, his dancing against yours gently, tenderly.

And then he moves to your neck, giving extra attention to that one sensitive spot that he likes to favor. You sigh, arching your back, and his hands slide under you. And he holds you against him for a moment, your bare chest pressed against his.

“I love you so fucking much,” he mutters into your shoulder.

“I love you, too.”

He can hear that you’re now crying. So he pulls back just the least bit, kissing away your tears.

He smooths some hair from your face, your chin wobbling. “You’re so perfect… You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, Y/N.”

You let out a small, happy sob, smiling.

He then begins to kiss your breasts, taking one in his hand, and then the other, lightly trailing his tongue along the valley between them and your body shudders.

He then kisses down the soft skin of your stomach. Until, finally, he’s reached your perfect pussy which he’ll claim in only a few minutes as his very own.

He begins kissing your inner thighs, seeing that you’re already completely soaked and you sit up a bit.

“Nate, I…I wanted to-” You weren't wanting oral today. You wanted more. Wanted him.

He looks up at you. “Trust me, sweetheart,” he says softly, quietly. “If I take my time…it won’t hurt as much. Please let me take care of you, please.”

You nod, your lower lip wobbling from how much love and care and tenderness he’s treating you with.

You lay back again.

He then places his mouth against you and you gasp. He reaches up, twining his fingers between yours, holding tight.

“I love you, Nate,” you whisper.

He responds by pressing a kiss to your pussy before going back in with his tongue, running it along that seal that he’s about to break.

Once you’re warm and flushed and trembling—crying—does he stand, removing his shorts, and you take in the impressive length of him, licking your lips.

He pads over to the door, locking it—knowing he’ll kill anyone who tries to interrupt you. He’d once considered doing this at your house, to ensure there would be no interruptions, but he needed for it to happen in his bed. Needed to claim your virginity here, in his room.

He then opens the top drawer of his nightstand and retrieves a condom. You sit up a bit, watching as he peels open the wrapper, then feel your core tighten as he rolls it onto his throbbing erection.

You feel nervous, and a bit scared, but also eager to have him inside of you.

To have him teach you what this is like.

After you’d spent so long wondering about it, too.

He then lies his body back down on top of yours, hand lacing between the long, soft strands of your hair. “Are you ready, angel?”

You nod, kissing him.

He reaches down, rubbing himself against your entrance and notices when you tense up. So he stops.

“The only thing I need you to do is relax for me. Let me do everything else. This is about you, not me. I want—I need—your first time to be perfect. Let me give that to you. Please.”

A tear slips from your eye at his sweet, loving words.

You spread your legs wider, tension releasing.

He rubs himself against you again and then finally, finally, eases into you.

You wrap your arms around his neck and he presses his lips to your own, your hands tightening into fists as you feel a painful pinch, something breaking perhaps, and then he slips inside of you.

You whimper against his lips, trying to ignore the pain. You move your hips, until he pulls his mouth away from your own. “Stay still for me, baby. Just let yourself adjust to me.”

He gently lifts one of your legs onto his back and he sinks deeper, moaning at how wet and tight you are. So this is what a virgin feels like, he thinks. And it feels so fucking…perfect.

He looks at you, doing his utmost not to finish right then and there. He needs this to last for as long as possible. “Does that feel better?”

You nod.

He eases out a couple inches, then back in and you moan in pleasure. “Does that feel good?”

You nod again. “Y-yes.”

He kisses you, deeply. Then presses his forehead against your own. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” He presses his lips back to your own before he begins to ease in and out, in and out, over and over.

He goes painstakingly slow, even as his body protests, wanting nothing more than to fuck your brains out. But he needs to be gentle with you. Needs you to think that’s who he is. Needs for every second of your lovemaking to be what you’ve always surely imagined—hoped—it would one day be like.

He looks down at you, staring into your eyes as he continues easing his cock in and out—you’re so wet now that he can hear it. And he loves you all the more for it. How easily your body responds to him.

“Tell me what you need, sweetheart. I want this to be perfect.”

You shake your head. “It is.”

He kisses you again, then slowly—slowly—lifts you until you’re in his lap. He wraps one arm around your waist, encouraging you to move your hips against him. The other comes up to cup your cheek, tangling in your hair as he kisses your lips, your neck, your right breast, then left. He looks at you again and you whimper. “Shh, that’s it, angel. Just like that. Take your time.”

You reach down to touch your clit and he gently takes your hand in his. “Don’t. Please. I want this moment to last for as long as possible.”

You fight back tears again as you lie your head on his shoulder as he continues helping you move your hips against him.

In reality, he wants you to come from his cock alone—to find him to be that good of a lover. He knows it’s not easy to achieve—female orgasms from penetration alone—but he’s more than willing to try.

Finally, he lies you back down on the mattress. “Fuck,” he mutters into a pillow as he slips out for a moment, then eases back in. You shudder from how good it feels, him filling you.

And he enjoys your walls clenching around him.

He places both of your legs over his backside, making you as small as possible beneath him. Dwarfing your small, feminine frame. He loves how much larger he is than you. The fact that he could easily throw you around like a ragdoll.

And you stay like that. For awhile. Silence, just the sounds of your ragged breathing, his occasional moans, your whimpering and sighing. Each of you saying each other’s names or that you love each other. His skin slapping against yours.

Finally, he repositions his hips—his cock touching against some part of you that you’ve never touched before and you jerk. “Ah, right there.”

He knows he’s found what he’s been looking for. So he keeps his hips positioned exactly where they are as he continues to fuck himself inside of you.

Your breathing quickens, your kissing becomes more fervent, your fingers tangling in his hair. And your walls begin to rapidly clench.

He fights back against how fucking good you feel, refusing to be the first one to finish. No. He needs to give that to you. He can’t come off as being selfish in bed.

That will come later.

Until, finally, finally, you cry out, pressing your mouth against his shoulder, your body shuddering, jerking against his fingers trailing along your hot, bare skin. Your walls squeezing and squeezing him.

You begin to cry and then he falls over the edge, following right behind you.

He buries his face In your neck. “God, baby. Fuck, Y/N.”

He moans as his cum fills the condom wrapped tightly around him.

Finally, he stills, his body collapsing on top of yours, cock still twitching inside of you.

You cry silently underneath him and he presses countless kisses to your hot cheeks, your swollen lips. “I love you more than anything,” he says.

And he believes it.

And so do you.

[satorusugurugurl]

LATE-NIGHT FOOD WITH GOJO PLEASE ML🥺🥺

2AM Snacks:

Summary: When neither you or Gojo can sleep, you head to the kitchen for some late night fun.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru X AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Sweet sugary fluff, suggestiveness, language

Word Count: 2K

A/N: Jndndndndn I love this is was so fun to write Nonnie thanks for the request!

Gojo sighed as he stared at the ceiling, slowly turning his gaze before turning towards the clock. It was one-forty in the morning, and he was wide awake. He wanted to blame it on his missions. Being away from you and in different time zones affected him. But it could just be because he was so used to his regular sleep schedule. Usually, he would get a solid three hours of sleep between lessons for the kids and meetings with the higher-ups. Sleep wasn’t something that came naturally to the strongest sorcerer of the modern age.

That was his life. He was constantly on the move, practically sleep-deprived most of the time, and just trying to make the most out of his life. But then there was you. God, you were perfect. Ever since you found out, he only got three to four hours of sleep. You did your damn best to try to make things easier for him. Whether it be making sure he had food waiting for him at home, helping him with his reports, or just listening to him when he needed to vent.

Every little thing you did helped him in the long run. Some of his stress was eased, and occasionally, he had more than a small amount of sleep. He was so accustomed, too. Being able to hold you to feel some additional ease meant the world to him! You meant the world to him.

While he loved having the chance to sleep in a little longer and spend more time with you, there were still times when he was incapable of relaxing. Gojo‘s mind was often wired. He would toss and turn, flipping his pillow, and do every little trick he knew of to try to sleep. Tonight had been bad, though. Gojo tried kicking the sheets off, turning on his sides, and even counting sheep, but nothing, absolutely nothing, helped with his insomnia.

This is how he found himself staring at the ceiling fan above, which turned at an almost tortured, slow speed. Nights like this were the same nights he would get up and wander to the living room to mindlessly scroll through his phone or watch television, hoping he did not wake you up. Seeing that none of his usual tactics were helping ease him to sleep. Gojo rolled onto his side to slowly crawl out of bed when a hand shot out from underneath the blanket, halting his attempt to leave. The sudden contact made him jump, but when he came to the logical conclusion that it was to glance down at you, he half expected you to be still asleep, only to find you staring at him with those pretty eyes he loved.

“Hey,” he whispered, turning onto his side to face you. “Did I wake you?”

“No.” you pressed your lips together, obviously fighting back grin. “But the parasites did.”

Satoru scoffed, brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. “The parasites?” You nodded enthusiastically, biting down on your bottom lip. “Okay, why did the parasites wake you up?” Gojo felt the bed shift as you inched closer to him with a mischievous giggle. You are so freaking cute.

“They’re saying they’re hungry.”

“Oh? They’re hungry?” he brought your face closer to his, allowing his nose to brush against yours. “And what are the parasites hungry for?”

Another giggle sounded from the back of your throat, and Gojo resisted the urge to kiss you as hard as he could for being so damn cute. “Cookies.” it was official. You were his dream girl, everything he wanted, and if he could marry you right this minute, he would.

“Alright, let’s go make some cookies.”

“You’re going to help me make cookies?”

“Contrary to popular belief, I can cook, sweetheart.”

Sheets were thrown off, and you both hurried towards the kitchen. You set the oven to three seventy-five while Gojo pulled his phone out, searching for a recipe. The results page barely loaded when you snatched the phone from him and placed it on the counter.

“Hey! I was looking for a delicious recipe for us to make.” He pouted, sticking his bottom lip out.

“We don’t need a recipe online. Not when I have my family's secret recipe memorized.”

Satoru followed you around the kitchen, grabbing sugar, flour, chocolate chips, a chocolate bar, and butter. Watching you intently grab the bowls, spatula, and whisk, Gojo realized how normal this was. It wasn’t often you both could be normal and bake like this without a care in the world. Watching you move around the kitchen with such fluidity at two thirty in the morning had him longing for more normal nights like this.

He was so lovestruck that he almost missed you placing the butter into a saucepan. That was strange; he'd never seen anyone soften butter on the stove. Didn’t people typically soften it in the microwave? All thoughts that you were softening the butter went down the kitchen sink when Gojo witnessed you mixing the butter in the side pan, melting it further.

“Whoa, I may not be a chef, but I think you’re doing that wrong, baby.”

You grin as you feel his arms snake around your waist. “I’m not doing it wrong.” The fresh smell of clean linen and musk melted in with the scent of melting butter. Gojo dropped his chin to rest on your shoulder.

“Uhm, aren’t you supposed to cream it with the sugar?” he paused, turning to press a kiss against your neck. “Oh, and just so you know, I was talking about the cookies, not us. We creamed together earlier.”

Grimacing with a laugh, continuing to stir the melted butter to prevent it from burning. “Eww, please don’t refer to us having sex as creaming ever again.” another kiss was pressed against your neck, and you felt your boyfriend’s chest vibrate with laughter.

“What about creampies? You love those!”

“Toru—!”

“You were begging for one earlier!”

“Oh my god, I’m going to beg you—”

“You begged me so prettily earlier.”

You sighed loudly in defeat, focusing your attention back on the saucepan. “To answer your question before you somehow managed to turn it into some sexual innuendo, I’m not some basic bitch.” laughed out loud, pulling back far enough to admire the egotistical smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “I’m making brown butter cookies.”

“Oh~ brown butter cookies, those some tasty! Is there a reason why you’re browning the butter?”

“When you brown butter, it makes it taste delicious. It gives the cookies a nutty taste that is absolutely delicious.”

You weren’t kidding. Gojo held you tight. Watching in, the brother went from yellow to a beautiful golden brown. The sweet, almost nutty smell flooded the kitchen, making his mouth water. You hadn’t even finished putting the cookies together yet. He shuffled around the kitchen with you, making sure to keep a hold on you in some way, shape, or form, whether it be his arms around your waist or his hand and yours. Every step you took was close behind.

He watched you with curious eyes As you put a cup of brown and white sugar into a bowl before adding the deliciously cooked brown butter. Watching you cook was like watching someone do alchemy. He helped you crack a couple of eggs that he put in the bowl, and you threw in salt and vanilla and mixed the wet ingredients. Gojo's mouth was watering when you finally added the dry ingredients, including flour, baking soda, and baking powder.

The cookies looked so good!

“Fuuuck~” he moaned, reaching into the bowl and grabbing a blob of the dough. “They smell so good!” He popped the dough into his mouth before pouring the chocolate chips and chunks into the bowl and mixing it.

“You shouldn’t be eating raw cookie dough like that; that’s how you get salmonella.”

Your boyfriend snatched the ball out of your arms, taking over and stirring it as you grabbed the cookie sheet and lined it with parchment paper. “I’ll have you know I’ve been eating raw you don’t my entire life, and I have never once gotten salmonella.” You shook your head with a soft laugh, making Satoru feel he was there with his limbs turned into melted butter.

“All it takes is one time.”

“Don't you dare put that bad juju on me!”

More laughter flooded the kitchen as you reached into the bowl with your finger, pulling out a scoop of the delicious dough yourself before popping it in your mouth, sucking it off. “There, now we both have salmonella together if it happens.” There was something almost strangely romantic about your declaration. But he hoped you both didn’t get sick of that because how could he hold your pretty hair back if you were hug. It's probably best to hope you both didn’t get sick. But then again, in his twenty-eight years of life, he never got salmonella. So he wasn’t worried.

Besides, the cookies were bound to taste a million times better after they were baked, which took ten minutes. By the time the timer rang from his phone, Gojo was excitedly bouncing. The apartment smelled like his favorite bakery, but this time, you didn’t have to share the cookies with anyone (anyone but you). You both stood over the counter, each holding a cookie that had been cooled off for about two or three minutes.

“Cheers!” you announced, gently tapping your cookie against his own before pulling it apart. “Too late night, munchies!”

Satoru smirked, nodding in agreement as he followed your lead, ripping his cookie in half. “To the parasites that contributed to the delicious pastries in front of us.” You hummed in agreement as you both took big bites of the brown butter cookies.

The second the nutty, sugary taste hit his tongue, Satoru threw his head back with a moan. “Fuuuck!” He stomped his bare foot against the floor, chewing the generous amount he shoved into his mouth. “These are so good!” He shut his eyes, imagining different colors and shapes, and let the cookie flavors linger in his mouth. “I feel like Remy from Ratatouille. I can see the symphony of colors that this cookie embodies.”

“See, I told you.” You laughed out loud, and it was as rich and smooth as the melted chocolate inside of the dozen cookies you made. “Browning the butter works!”

“You were right; I will never doubt you again.”

“Good!”

Gojo leaned against the kitchen island, watching you as you ate more of the cookie still in your hand. Aside from the overhead light over the stove, the lights were out, which just happened to illuminate your pretty features. He stared at you for a long moment, swallowing the last bit of cookie in his mouth. You were everything to him. You took such good care of him, the apartment, and the food you made. But you were also his best friend. Someone who would get up with him at two in the morning to bake cookies when neither of you could sleep.

“And I hope you never doubt that I love you.”

The words were sudden, but they were also heartfelt. “I know, baby; I love you too.” Standing on your tiptoes, you leaned over the counter, pressing a sweet, sugary kiss against his lips.

That night, neither of you got the rest of the sleep that you needed. Instead, you snuggled on the couch, laid your head in his lap, and talked about everything and anything until dawn. The cookies were gone, and there may have been a crumb or two that lingered at the corners of your mouth, but the love that was shared between you both was still visible no matter the time of day it was.

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