#LISTEN I NEED HIM TO HAVE EXPRESSIVE EARS....

[thlayli-ra]

Prompt:

Punkintyre fucking in Cody's dressing room since they nearly got caught it the hallway (maybe it's the day before or of a ppv) and Cody is never in his dressing room. Drew and Punk trying to stay quiet, and they manage to not attract attention despite their activities, until Cody and Roman (Or Randy if you prefer Candy) walk in clearly about to use Cody's dressing room for the exact same thing as Punkintyre.

(I personally think Roman would be funnier since Drew/Punk could get all pissy about Cody banging him:

Punkintyre: ROMAN?? SERCOISLY?! HE'S THE WORST! YOU CAN'T BANG SOMEONE WHO YOU FOUGHT AT WRESTLEMAINA, WHO ATTACKS YOU, WHO INTERFEARS IN YOUR MATCHES?!

CodyRoman: :/

I just think they're funny)

Anyway, love your writing/Art, keep up the great work! I hope you enjoy their Hell In A Cell match <3

Whelp! The same day I tell my brain not to get distracted, I get this amazing prompt and immediately get distracted 😅

I've written Dead Dove Punkintyre, heart-warming hurt/comfort Punkintyre - now it's time to get a little silly with these two. **Warning** - Punk being the ultimate little shit incoming...

Rating - Mature (18+)

Words - ~3k words

'Were you under the ring the whole fucking time?'

Punk blinked up innocently at Drew who was looking more than a little hot and flustered. 'The signal aint great,' he replied with a cute shrug as he held up his phone, pointing to the app that was currently open on the screen. 'I had to be close by for it to work.'

'You mean, you wanted to be close by,' Drew shot back, seeing right through the tattooed man's lies, 'so that you could listen in while you tormented me.'

'And you did so well,' Punk cooed. 'Nobody would have a clue.'

'Please, please tell me you didn't go live on Instagram this time?'

'I didn't, I swear,' Punk put up his hands before muttering under his breath, 'stupid apps wouldn't let me use them at the same time.'

All of a sudden, Drew's entire face scrunched up and he nearly collapsed in on himself. Quickly, he put his meaty arm against the wall for support.

'Oh?' Punk tilted his head to the side, a cocky smirk rising up one cheek. 'You feeling ok there, Big Boy?'

Drew grunted a blasphemy in reply. 'Turn it down.'

'Turn what down?' Punk bent low in order to see the harrowing expression on Drew's face.

'The thing! The damn thing!' Drew pleaded, screwing his eyes shut.

'Turn the damn thing down, what?'

'Fuck you! FUCK YOU!'

'Tut tut,' Punk shook his head and looked back at his phone. 'You know what happens when you disrespect Daddy?'

Drew's brow shot up when he saw Punk's finger slide up the screen. 'NO! WAIT! GAARRRGGHH!' The large Scot fell against the wall, needing both hands to hold himself upright.

'Damn!' Punk's huge green eyes glistened impishly and he practically giggled with glee. He could actually hear the damn thing vibrating like crazy in Drew's trunks. 'It sure packs a punch, huh?'

'TURN IT DOWN! PLEASE! FOR THE LOVE OF THE WEE MAN! TURN IT DOWN OR I'M GOING TO-'

'Shhh!' Punk scolded the Scot, glancing around him. 'You want the entire backstage to hear you?'

'GAH! FUCK! FUUUUU-'

'Dammit!' Punk grabbed Drew by his large shoulders and shoved him down the hallway, away from prying eyes and ears. Heading the first door they passed, he looked inside and found the small locker room empty. 'Here, get in.' Pushing the writhing Scot inside, Punk pulled the door shut. Now that they were safely hidden away, he could focus on torturing his victim even more. 'You can't take a little teasing, you big baby?'

'YOU HAVE THAT THING TURNED ALL THE WAY UP! DON'T YOU?!'

"Don't be dramatic,' Punk scoffed. 'Of course I don't have- oh, wait, yeah I do. Whoops!' He used his finger to slide the curser on his screen down, but only by a tiny margin. Just enough for Drew to stop yelling but still enough to keep his breath coming in those juicy little gasps. 'That better?'

'You little shitebag,' Drew cursed through his gritted teeth.

'What happened to all that self-control in the ring out there?' Punk asked, sidling up to the Scot who was soaked through with sweat, and not just from the exertions of his match. 'Is it cause I'm here now?'

'You wish that- hrrfff!' Drew's words were savagely cut off by Punk's hand grabbing the front of his trunks, fingers curling tightly around his rock-hard cock and balls...

..and the solid silicone ring around the base of his dick!

'Ooh, there it is!' Punk's eyes lit up with mischief. Using his thumb, he slid the curser up and down so that he could feel the difference in vibrations, grinning from ear to ear as Drew's whimpering kicked up into desperate whines and back down again, allowing the suffering Scot to steady his senses for a few seconds. Before jamming it all the way back up again.

'FUCK! FUCK! FU-'

Punk felt a throbbing down south and couldn't resist anymore. Grabbing Drew by the back of his head, he yanked him down to his height and muffled his howls by shoving his tongue into his open mouth. He hummed joyfully as he invaded the warm cavity, giving Drew some vibrations above to match the ones below, and entangled his inked fingers in his wet hair.

A rumble tingled Punk's lips, not from his own throat but from Drew's. He had finally awoken the Scot's inner beast! Large hands grabbed him by the thighs, lifting him clean off his feet and he was slammed against the wall. Drew thrusted his aching groin between Punk's legs, the vibrations of his cock ring now shuddering through the denim of Punk's jeans to excite his own dick.

'Shhhhhhhiiiitttt,' Punk choked out, the strength of the sensation between his legs almost blinding.

'How'd you like that, ye wee prick!' Drew snarled in Punk's ear, ruthlessly pinning the smaller man's groin with his own.

Inked fingers clawed at Drew's naked shoulder blades, ragged nails digging in as the fierce convulsions pulsed through them both. Overcome with animalistic desire, Drew began to dry-hump the older man, growling at every distressed yelp from his trapped victim.

Until-

'What was that?' Punk lifted his head, eyes wide and ears pricked. Drew hadn't noticed and was still grinding his hips against him. 'Drew! Stop! Someone's coming!'

The Scot finally paused. In the silence, they both heard voices right outside the door.

'Shit!' Punk swore as the handle to the door began to turn. He wriggled free from Drew's grasp. 'In here. Quick, you idiot!' Grabbing Drew by the wrist, he pulled him towards a closet in the corner and managed to squeeze them both in right before the door opened. The two men held their breaths as the voices became clearer, drawing closer.

'I meant what I said,' the first voice said, footsteps stomping into the room, 'I'm done with the Bloodline.'

Inside the closet, Punk gulped loudly. He knew that voice. It was Cody Rhodes! And going purely by the sound of the hefty footsteps following him, he was most likely with his work husband, Randy Orton. Or maybe Kevin Owens?

'So you keep sayin',' a deep, rich voice answered, 'but I'm not buyin' it. Nobody is!'

Punk's jaw just about dropped to the floor. That wasn't Orton. Or Owens.

It was Roman fucking Reigns!

'I don't care what anybody thinks,' Cody snapped back. 'I have been fighting the Bloodline in one variation or another since I returned to the WWE. I've watched them hurt the people I care about, I've endured all the punishment they've inflicted on me, that you inflicted on me. I have bled because of you and your family.'

There was a pause. Tension filled the air so thick it could be sliced with a knife. Punk imagined the two men were standing chest-to-chest and feverishly wished there was a slit or keyhole or something in this closet door he could peep through to watch the action. Instead all he had was a six foot five, quivering Scotsman jamming all four giant limbs into him.

'Can you just-' he hissed at Drew but clammed shut when Cody started talking again. Low this time, quiet. Oh, it was getting serious. Punk pressed his left ear against the door - his bad ear but it would have to do - to hear what he had to say.

'Far as I'm aware, I beat Solo Sikoa in Berlin. I beat the Tribal Chief-'

'He is not the Tribal Chief! He may wear the Ula Fala but that man is an imposter!'

'That's your problem, not mine!'

'You are the WWE Champion!' Roman lets his words hang in the air. 'When you won that belt from me, you made a promise to change the WWE for the better. To lead us all-'

'You were the one who made the mess in the first place.'

'I know...' Roman's voice turned small. Defeated. 'I just... want to fix it.'

Punk pressed his ear tighter against the door. Damn his partial deafness! And Drew wasn't helping with his constant whimpering. Two large fingers tugged at his sleeveless shirt, trying to pry his attention away from the other men outside. 'Get off,' he scolded Drew.

The Scotsman gave a pathetic whine.

'Shush!'

'P-Puuuunk!'

'Shut up! Or else they'll hear you.'

There was a long, drawn out silence, a shuffling of feet. By the time Cody spoke again, his tone has softened. 'You have your chance to fix it now. You're back! Go, take down the Bloodline. For good.'

'But, I can't do this alone,' a squeak of a sneaker. Punk guessed that Roman had stepped closer to Cody. 'I've never done anything on my own. Please, Cody. I need you!'

'Puuuuunk.'

'Will you just shut the fuck up!'

God he wished he could see. He was certain that Roman had his arm out, hand cupping Cody's blushing cheek. He knew that sweet sight well. Punk always loved how his pink cheeks contrasted beautifully with his platinum blonde hair.

Cody heaved a sigh. There was a slight shake to it, like he had been caught off-guard. Punk licked his dry lips and used all of his energy to focus. 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend,' he said finally. 'Right?'

'Right,' Roman replied, his tone warmer, like he was smiling. 'Anyway, you remember how it was when we feuded. We were good together.'

'We were good together,' the champion had turned a little hoarse. Just exactly how close was Reigns to him right at that second? Punk was dying to know!

Another tug at his shirt. 'Puuuunk. Pleeeasseeee!'

'I swear to Jeebus, if you say one more word, I'm gonna- woah!' Punk had finally turned around to look at Drew and was shocked to see the scarlet face on the larger man, beads of sweat as big as bullets raining down his brow. He suddenly remembered the toy on his cock and the high-pitched buzz filtered back into his range of hearing. 'Oh fuck, I forgot!'

'T-turn it d-down. P-p-please. I'm going to, I'm so close to-'

'Don't you fucking dare!' Punk warned the Scot, frantically searching his pockets. 'Not before I have a chance to-'

Both men jumped a foot when a long clatter boomed out right next to them. Something had smashed into the other side of the closet door. No, wait, not something. The mumbled moans and loud slurps betrayed the culprits as Roman and Cody, making out sloppy style right there on the other side of the thin wood.

Punk turned to Drew in disbelief, mouthing 'holy shit' to the other man. Drew could only reply with a pained grimace.

'Damn, I've missed this,' Roman's voice rumbled, only an inch or two away from the stowaways. 'You always taste so good.'

Cody was breathless already. 'So... so everybody keeps telling me.'

'Is this an expensive suit?'

'No. Why?'

The sound of fabric being shredded bucked life back between Punk's legs. The blood drained from his head, rushing down south fast, making his jeans all the tighter. Then his shirt was tugged again.

'Daddy?'

Oh, fuck! Drew was desperate now! Why now? Why call him that now? When Punk was starting to ache horribly himself but couldn't do a damn thing about it.

'Daddy! P-please h-help me.'

'I'm trying! I'm trying!' he hissed back, sliding his hands into every one of the pockets of his jeans, struggling to fit his inked fingers between the too-taut denim and coming up empty.

Punk went still.

Horrible realisation dawning on him.

Drew arched his brows wretchedly at him, his blue eyes swelling with dread.

'D-daddy?'

Punk slowly met his gaze, lips pursed tight. 'I... don't have my phone,' he whispered fearfully. 'I must have dropped it when-'

Another clatter against the door and both men backed away, wedging themselves as far back into the tiny space as they could. The wood slammed again and again, rhythmic. Punk's brain went into a spin when he recognised the sound of two men fucking one another like wild animals.

Meanwhile Drew let out a pitiful squeal of his own, the intensity on his cock too much to bear. Punk rushed towards him, ramming both of his hands over Drew's mouth. 'Shhhh, hold on. Just... hold on a little longer.'

The rhythmic banging intensified, punctuated by deep strains of Roman's grunts and higher tones of Cody's gasps. All while Drew's warm dog breath fogged on Punk's hands, the buzzing seemingly getting louder, like a swarm of angry hornets surrounding them. Punk was pressed so tightly against Drew that he could feel the sensation of the cock ring on his stomach, jiggling his lower gut like jelly. On a hydraulic drill. During a mag 9 earthquake!

He grit his teeth, tried to fight back against the growth in his jeans but was failing miserably. How the fuck had Drew's dick not exploded from this fucking thing yet?

The Scot was dangerously close though. Teetering right on the edge. A tear ballooned out the corner of his eye and slid down his cheek.

'No! Drew! No!'

Suddenly Punk's hands were useless. Drew's bellows breaking through the inked fingers.

'The fuck was that?'

Punk's heart skipped a beat. They'd been rumbled!

Ten seconds later, the door was wrenched open, light hitting the two accidental voyeurs concealed inside the closet. 'Punk? Is that you? And... Drew?'

The Scot let out a final strangled wail followed by a long, drawn-out groan of relief. His large legs went slack and he slumped to the floor, back pressed into the corner of the closet and head lolled.

'Oh for fuck's sake, Drew,' Punk kicked one floppy tree-trunk leg with the toe of his sneaker. 'You fucking, pathetic-'

'Eh-hem!'

Punk looked up sheepishly at Cody and Roman. Both men were in a dishevelled state, like they had only had enough time to zip up their flies after the interruption. Cody's shirt was torn apart and his cheeks rosy. Roman was panting, his shoulders heaving.

Punk crossed his arms and lowered his brow. 'Yeah?' he glowered at the pair. 'Can I help you?'

'Well, yeah!' Cody replied incredulously. 'You can tell me what you're doing here.'

'We were here first,' he shot back with a shrug. 'What are you doing here?'

'It's my locker room.'

Punk squinted at him, confused. 'Your locker room?'

'It has my name right there on the door!'

'Oh,' Punk withered. 'I... did not see that.'

'Punk,' Cody scrubbed a hand through his hair with a sigh, 'what are you doing hiding in my locker room, with Drew McIntyre of all people?'

The tattooed man bristled at the question. 'What am I doin'-? What about you? What are you doin'? What would Randy say if he found out you were sleeping with the enemy?'

'You're the one fucking Drew McIntyre!'

'Hey! We were not fucking!' Punk protested before quickly returning the conversation back to Cody and Roman. 'And anyway, come on! Roman fucking Reigns? The guy made your life hell? You faced him at Wrestlemania, twice! He attacked you for crying out loud!'

'Drew McIntyre smashed your face into a metal door and left you a bloodied corpse in your own home town!'

'Roman had his third cousin, thrice removed, through wedlock or however the fuck Dwayne is related to him, beat you to the floor and whip you senseless with a leather belt.'

'Oh... my god!' Cody screamed into his hands. 'Are you even listening to yourself right now? Are the concussions finally catching up with you? Do you even remember what the hell happened in Berlin or have you just lost your damn mind?'

'What did you do to Drew?' Roman's booming voice broke through the two men's bickering and they turned to spy the unresponsive Scot.

'Oh, shit! I forgot! Again!' Punk looked around and spied his phone on the floor close to where Drew had lifted him up earlier but before he could retrieve it, Roman picked it up. 'Hey! Gimme that!'

'Hmm,' Roman cocked an eyebrow as he scanned over the controls on the phone's screen. 'Just-Vibing? What is this?'

'Nothing!' Punk failed miserably at looking innocent.

Roman slid his thumb down the curser and Drew let out a sigh of sweet relief. But as he slid it back up, he tensed up again and thumped his head back against the corner of the closet. Then, when he pressed a button, there was a series of sharp buzzing which Drew gasped with in unison.

'Wait, it pulses?' Punk asked in astonishment. 'I didn't know that!'

'Man, old people with technology!' Cody mocked.

'Shut. Up!'

Roman ignored them and walked over to the ragged Scot. 'Hands up, Puppy,' he said and Drew immediately complied.

'Wait, what?' Punk spluttered out from behind.

'He was mine first,' Roman returned. He dipped two fingers into the studded waistband of Drew's trunks and pulled them back, discovering a wet, sticky mess coating the inside of his gear as well as the brightly coloured silicone ring wrapped around Drew's softened dick. 'You got him a cock-ring?'

'He broke my bracelet, so I told him to buy me a replacement,' Punk shrugged with a mischievous grin. 'Told him he could keep it in his trunks like he used to, you know, for old times sake.'

'It's the same fucking colours too,' Roman rolled his eyes.

'Maybe it's about time he returns it,' Cody side-eyed Punk, slyly.

'Huh?' the tattooed wrestler glanced warily between them. 'What are you-?'

'Good idea,' Roman said, reaching into Drew's trunks and slipping the silicon ring off of him, the Scot purring as he was freed. However, Punk's panic spiked and he tried to back away from the impending danger. 'Here,' Roman tossed Punk's phone to Cody, 'since he sullied your locker room, you get to play with him first.'

'Well, if you insist,' Cody grinned wickedly at Punk, who found himself backed into a corner, Roman and the cum-soaked cockring drawing closer and closer.

'Now, wait, we can all talk about this like gentlemen, right? Guys. Guys???'

[sendpseuds]

Wip Wednesday - Spirit Halloween

The Halloween decorations are going up and I don’t remember the last time I had something for wip Wednesday so you’re getting a long one

Enjoy 🖤

The clock on the wall sounds like a heartbeat.

The second hand pulls back and lurches forward, steady and measured and maddening.

One-two. One-two. One-two.

It's loud and irritating, but honestly, anything is better than listening to The Monster Mash for the millionth time tonight.

No one has set foot in this temporarily occupied warehouse in over an hour and Anakin is beyond ready to get the fuck out of here.

The closing checklist is almost complete— the changing rooms have been cleared of unwanted costumes, each cheap plastic garment put back in its package and out on display, the register has been counted, the floors have been swiffered, the door has been locked. All he has to do is shut down the animatronics, turn off the lights and—

"Jesus-fucking-Christ," Anakin barks when a knock at the door nearly startles him out of his skin, clutching his chest to feel the frantic onetwo onetwo onetwo of his own heart fast outpacing the clock's suddenly sluggish tempo.

It takes a moment to catch his breath, his pulse still thundering in his ears when he looks up to find a man wearing a dark suit and an apologetic expression.

Normally, Anakin would just ignore the guy — maybe shout, 'We're closed,' and point at his watchless wrist before rolling his eyes and returning to his end-of-night checklist — but when the man raises his hand to give an almost adorably embarrassed wave, Anakin finds himself unlocking the door before he can think twice.

"I'm terribly sorry," the stranger says before the door is even open, rushed and painfully polite, "I didn't mean to frighten you."

He sounds like he stepped out of some critically acclaimed period drama about dukes and duchesses, and while he's not wearing coattails or a top hat he definitely looks like he could be a lord or something.

"It's fine," Anakin chuckles, a strange nervous tickle in the back of his throat as he breathes in the cold night air, shifting his weight slightly and trying to remember why exactly he opened the door in the first place, "Look, man, I'm really sorry, but we're—"

"You're closed," the man says before he can finish, nodding his head in acknowledgment, standing up a straighter like he thinks he can match Anakin's height, "I realize that and I apologize, but I was hoping that you could—"

"Sorry, dude," Anakin interrupts, shaking his head and finding himself strangely reluctant when the man frowns, "Already shut down the registers, couldn't sell you anything even if I wanted to."

His eyes drop in disappointment, lips in a thin line, but when his brows raise, head tilted to one side, Anakin lets out a low sigh, realizing this man isn't ready to give up.

"Cash?"

And if that doesn't pique Anakin's interest.

"I have—" the man murmurs absently, pulling out a sleek leather wallet to leaf through the contents and Anakin can't help the way he perks up when he sees at least one, two, three bills with three digits in the corner, "Four— no, five hundred and one dollars."

Anakin needs to swallow a laugh because who the fuck carries around that much cash?

"Anything not spent on the costume is yours."

Then, he nearly chokes.

That's— that's—

Honestly, that's not even a month's rent, but to Anakin Skywalker, five hundred dollars is a lot of money.

It's a trip home to visit mom.

It's a nice birthday gift for Ahsoka.

It's breathing room.

It's one hell of a negotiation tactic.

"That desperate, huh?" Anakin manages to ask, his mind already running through exactly what he needs to do to not get caught.

"You have no idea," the stranger hums, leaning forward just enough that Anakin can see the way his smile wrinkles his eyes at the edges, "You're my only hope."

Anakin shivers.

"Five hundred dollars?" He confirms, swallowing back the wild feeling still racing down his spine.

"Five hundred and one," the man grins, and for the first time, Anakin realizes his eyes shine like silver.

"Alright," he breathes, something strange studdering his heart as he holds the door open, "Come on in."

[twilightroads]

ignores canon again and gives him pointy elf ears

[chuluoyi]

✎ all of me

- gojo satoru x reader

you understand that some things in marriage just needs compromise. and he soon understands too, when you're at your most vulnerable and he fails to be by your side when you need him the most

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship (you're married & have a son!) argument, feral gojo, mentions of injury & blood, fluff

note: if it isn't obvious by now i'm in the mood of angst-hurt/comfort this week HEHE :)) this is longer than the usual love entry, so i hope you'll enjoy it!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

Bantering with your husband is not uncommon―in fact, it happens on daily basis.

"Satoru― I'm talking to you!"

But having serious arguments with him is another matter entirely.

Your fists tightening at your sides, facing his unamused expression. How insufferable is he? You told him that everyday, but right now, he's truly surpassed previous levels of infuriating behavior.

"And I can hear you, sweetheart," he retorted, casting a glance your way. The term of endearment he used for you sounding almost like a sneer to your ears and you felt offended.

"I don't think you're taking this seriously," you griped, trying to calm your emotions, still balling your hands. "Someone is following our son on his way back from school―how can you be this... flippant?!"

Numerous photograph of your son exiting the school building from different angles had arrived in your mailbox, and if it wasn't a creepy warning from those who placed a target on his back, then you didn't know what it was.

Satoru let out an exasperated grunt. "I'm telling you, I'll pick him up for the rest of the week. No one will lay a hand on him."

You gritted your teeth. "And I'm telling you, they're trying to make you do just that. Even morons know not to mess with you― they're leaving hints, and you're taking the bait!"

Contrary to what you believed, Satoru felt just as worried as you upon knowing that someone might have marked his precious son, who was now six years old and had recently started attending preschool.

But this is where your approaches differ. You are always the cautious one, overanalyzing each detail, while he leans towards being impulsive, often resorting to brute force.

"Who do you think can stand a chance against me?" Satoru challenged with a real sneer this time. "Remember my words, wife, no one is going to hurt me, you or our baby. I'll end them where they stand."

"That's not the point!" you threw your hands in the air, irate. "Satoru, they're going to take advantage of―"

"Look, I don't want to argue with you." Satoru's gaze was hard on you, his tone clipped, and it made you stiffen. "His safety comes first— and you, of all people, should know I'd never let anything happen to him. You need to quit nitpicking and have a little faith in me."

"I know you are more than capable, but you are not―!"

And then he said it, and his words piercing through you like a knife―

"Don't compare me to you," your husband remarked a little too coldly. "I can do things you can't. Just rest your pretty head, I'll take care of the rest."

Nevermind that he blatantly dismissed your skills as a jujutsu sorcerer, nevermind that he totally didn't listen to you at all―he just went and made himself look like some sort unparalleled god, forgetting how much his hubris could actually take him.

And all these thoughts only made you angrier.

"So be it then." You tried desperately to hold yourself from shaking because you'd be damned if you showed it to him. "A word of advice, Satoru: beware of your arrogance."

With those words, you spun around, marching off toward your son's room, because no way in hell was you going to sleep with that obnoxious prick tonight.

But when you caught the sight of your baby scuttling away from the gap in the door, a fragment of your heart crumbled. Oh. He has seen it all.

In Gojo Satoru's mind, he is made of two things: a powerful jujutsu sorcerer and a family man.

With his immense strength, comes a certain responsibility. And with that responsibility, certain habits have formed. If you just took a few seconds to breathe and looked back throughout the past decade he'd spent with you, you'd know that in fact―

It was also his way to shield you. Satoru stands by the principle that you and his little boy must be protected at all cost, and he most certainly would pull all stops to do just that.

But frankly, he couldn't deny that he felt insulted by how defiant you were. Did you really think he would let anyone ever touch your―his―son? He wouldn't, they'd meet his wrath first and you should've known that.

Still, something akin to guilt nudged at his conscience as he lay alone in your shared bed that night. It felt strange not having you cuddling him. He felt empty.

. . .

None of your shampoo-scented pillow, none of your nightdresses, all of it replaced by a single photo hanging in the wall and the urn of ashes—

Abruptly, he jerked his eyes open, shaken from the most dreadful nightmare he had experienced—

Of you no longer by his side.

“Mama.” Your little boy looked up to you with his doe-blue eyes in the next day, his hand gripping yours. “I’ll be fine.”

You were accompanying him to the preschool. While Satoru had requested Ichiji to drive him, you insisted on tagging along to keep a watchful eye as well. You'd leave your husband to pick him up later just as he wanted.

“Huh?” you turned to him, tilting your head.

“I'll stick by Uncle Ichiji's side the entire time,” he replied in a murmur. “And papa will be picking me up too later. If there are bad guys, they'll get him first.”

You bit your lip, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. Your boy witnessed your outburst last night and hadn't inquired about it until now, and even then, he was trying to reassure you.

“So… don’t fight.” His round, cerulean eyes then darted towards you, blinking hesitantly, causing you to catch your breath.

He looks so much like Satoru. At six years old, he was the spitting image of him, except his personality—he took after you in that area. It was as if your son was a softer, more innocent version of him. And your heart twisted, remembering your argument last night.

Don't compare me to you.

With a sigh, you bent down to be eye-level with him and managed a smile, holding both of his little hands. “I’m sorry… it was just misunderstanding last night, okay? Don’t worry.”

“…really?”

“Really. Mama and papa were just tired,” you tried to reason, a thin smile on your face. "It's going to be okay, just like you said, yeah? Papa will beat the bad guys out there."

“Will he pull through...? If they bring a knife, and he's just there laughing, they can cut him.”

A giggle escaped your lips at your baby's innocent wonderings, easing the ache in your heart as you recalled how Satoru humored him in so many ways.

You gently poked your son in the cheek. "Nah, do you remember what he always goes on about?"

He puffed up his cheeks in response, his expression turning sour as if combing through memories of hundreds of shenanigans Satoru had instigated to recall his words. You let out a hearty chuckle, finding him so adorable.

"He's strong, he's going to win. He always does."

"Oh. Mmm." Your son scrunched up his nose cutely, before looking away and squeezing your hand. A sincerer smile bloomed in your lips, heart melting at the sight of your growing munchkin.

You will protect him. And maybe you could patch things up with Satoru later that night. Maybe yesterday you were just too paranoid.

That was the plan... at least until your son suddenly screamed—someone wrenching him from your grasp. Without a second thought, you reacted, flipping the attacker away from you and him.

. . . and that was the beginning of how everything started to unravel so terribly that day.

"Gojo-san...! There's been an incident!"

He got that call right after he finished some things with Yaga. Satoru teleported to the preschool right away, only to be greeted by a scene of utter chaos.

Several teachers stood outside the building, and police officers were present at the scene. It was all a blur of cursed energy until his eyes caught sight of—

His little boy, red-faced and obviously in fear, was clinging to Ichiji, who was frantically making calls. Some teachers gathered around him were seemingly trying to coax him to speak.

He didn't waste a second to dash towards him, tearing through the crowd.

"Are you okay? Hey, buddy, what happened?" Satoru pulled him away from Ichiji and turned him over, crouching to his level to check for any signs of injury or harm.

And upon seeing him actually here, his son's eyes immediately welled up with tears, and Satoru felt a chill run through his veins as he broke into sobs, which quickly turned into heart-wrenching wails.

"Mama—! F-find mama—!" the little boy choked out through his tears, clutching onto his shirt tightly and crumbling in his embrace, thoroughly inconsolable.

Satoru's sharp gaze quickly swept over the scene, seeking any clues, while he tightened his hold over him. It was then he noticed traces of your cursed energy mingled with blood.

They hurt you.

"Hey, kiddo—listen to me, it's going to be alright, yeah?" Satoru said, gently pulling away to wipe away his tears, holding the boy's face tenderly in his hands. "Go with Ichiji for now, okay? I'm going to bring mama back, I promise."

He didn't need to be told twice. Your son is always obedient when it matters the most. He gave him a small nod, still shaking with tears.

"Don't worry," he flashed a reassuring smile and ruffled his hair. "I'm the strongest, remember? I'll get her back," he vowed once again. "She'll be fine. Wait for me until then, yeah?"

Ichiji was ready to leave as he had called for those in headquarters as backup in case anything were to happen again. Trusting him to keep his son safe, Satoru took off as soon as he could no longer see the sight of his son's tear-streaked face trying to watch him as the car pulled away.

"I won't repeat myself— where is my wife?"

Satoru wasn't playing this time. He skipped past taunts and just plain threats. These little fries, he thought.

The man he held by the throat was in a lot of distress. "Hyaaa! It's him! Please, please, let me go! I'm acting under orders!"

He then flung him across the wall— might have added more cursed energy than necessary.

At the moment, his entire focus was on trying to locate you. He couldn't let his mind wander to anything else; in fact, he didn't permit himself to.

It didn't take him long to piece together the general location of where you were through the residual of your cursed energy. They stationed several hooligans in this abandoned warehouse to stall him, but he got rid of them quickly and he could sense that you were close by.

"It's Gojo Satoru!"

"Run! Ruuuun!"

What a pain. They picked the wrong person to mess with, and Satoru's lips curled into a manic grin as he opened his palm, pulling them in—

"Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue."

Chaos erupted as the building collapsed around him. He hoped you would realize he was here and manage to avoid getting caught in the wreckage. He was sure you'd know though.

And true to his thoughts, soon he found you— blasting your attacker away with a powerful kick.

Satoru thought that you were a sight to behold, really. And he was about to call out to you when he felt it.

It happened almost in an instant. The way his heart dropped to his stomach, and how his body reacted, barely whispering the incantation for Red as he shot it at something lurking behind you—

At that moment, the only thing you were aware of was the foul stench of a curse. Time seemed to stop before the overwhelming force of Red expelled it away from you.

But before then, you experienced a searing, white-hot pain that scorched through your flesh and pierced your abdomen—

"Y/N―fuck―!" The voice that came from Satoru's throat was raw and laden with panic.

He pulled you against him protectively as you collapsed, blinded by pain. He immediately felt warmth spreading across his lower body—your blood was rapidly drenching his shirt, and he felt a shiver down his spine.

You held onto him tightly while suppressing your scream, feeling every bit of your strength drain away along with the dark crimson blood that poured out of you.

"―toru―" you managed to croak amidst the scalding pain, curling and whimpering in his hold.

"Hey― sweetheart, please―" his voice rang in your ears, as he pressed down on your wound. His hands were shaking, and you clawed at him and groaned in agony. "I-I'm taking you back now― You're going to be alright, yeah?"

The wound was beyond anything you had experienced before, causing you to cry out and gasp for air. It was almost as if something fried your insides. It was hard to stay conscious.

"I've got you now. You're going to be okay." His voice was coarse, as he hurriedly carried you out. And he tried not to let the full-blown panic take over him when your body went limp in his arms, your breaths slowing, head lolling in his chest.

"You're going to be alright! You hear me, sweetheart? You're going to make it. Our baby― he's waiting for you. I promise you, you're going to be fine―"

Perhaps he was trying to tell that to himself, because despite the excruciating pain, a wave of reassurance washed over you.

You were in the arms of the strongest sorcerer alive, what more could you possibly afraid of?

A special grade curse. They had actually unleashed a potent curse and likely aimed at him as their final card—until it veered off course and struck you, leaving a searing gash across your abdomen.

Satoru felt numb as he sat in the waiting room in his bloodied uniform. You got hurt so terribly right in front of his eyes, and all he could feel was this profound void that seemed to bore through him and pierced his soul.

He was supposed to protect you. He said it to your face that nothing and no one would touch your son, and it was in his wedding vows that he'd protect you with his life too.

And yet what happened?

If only he was faster. If only he was able to pull you to him and protect you with his infinity—none of this shit would have happened.

Seeing your face twisted in agony and smeared with blood made him feel sick to his stomach. Inside that OR, you hovered on the brink of life and death, and he was here, unable to do anything.

Satoru rested his head against the wall, feeling a sharp pain surge through his chest. He remembered waking up to your face every morning, the way your touches felt, and how you had brightened his world for the past decade. If he lost you now... he wouldn't survive it. He would wreck anything, everything—

"Papa!" and came his voice of reason. Satoru immediately discarded his bloodstained jacket by instinct, throwing it away before his boy could see it, with Ichiji and Megumi closely trailing behind.

His son crashed himself into him and threw his little arms around his torso, crying—and in that very second, the thump of his heart sounded louder in his ears. Somehow it felt like a knife that twisted his insides.

"Hey, kiddo." Satoru repositioned him so that he would sit on his lap and hugged him, patting him in the back. "There, there... it's alright, yeah? Mama is inside, she'll get better soon."

Your little boy pulled away and wiped his eyes, and Satoru chuckled as he helped him blow his nose. His child was incredibly adorable, and his actions mirrored yours to such an extent that it made Satoru's heart soften.

"Mama g-got hurt trying to... tell me to g-go..." the boy suddenly said amidst his quieter sniffles. "And... she s-said... papa— i-is strong and g-going to win..."

You believe in him. Ignoring the ache in his chest, only able to reply him with a "Yeah..."

Not long after, Shoko emerged from the operating room and informed him that the surgery had been successful, though you would likely need to have a one-week stay in the hospital for observation. He intended to move you to the VIP suite and stay the night there, but then he remembered his son, who was holding his hand.

Satoru crouched down and patted him in the head, fixing him a smile. "See? Mama is okay, but she needs to sleep here to get even better. Now you go home first with big brother Megumi, yeah?"

Your son adored Megumi and often begged you to let him stay over at his place, but this time he looked hesitant, fiddling with his little fingers. "Really? Mama will be home... soon?"

"Mm-hmm, the more she sleeps here, the faster she'll go back home, alright?"

And with that, his baby nodded and Satoru turned to Megumi with a nod. "Thank you for this, Megumi."

The boy whose life he had once saved on some sort of a whim, now grown up and shared the same concern he had for you, Fushiguro Megumi had never before witnessed his benefactor expressing such sincere gratitude for anything before.

When you came to, your body felt as heavy as lead.

The discomfort in your abdomen made you flinch, and you almost let out a groan until you turned to your side and saw him.

Satoru was asleep while sitting in the sofa next to your bed, dark circles evident under his eyes. It might have been your imagination, but his cheeks appeared to be slightly red too.

You tried to recall what had happened to you when it came back—you urging your son to run away as you let yourself being taken away, almost escaping from that warehouse, the flash of excruciating pain, and Satoru's stricken voice.

So he must've been here since last night. Any remnants of your disagreement seemed to have vanished, seeing him there with you, barely covering himself with the blanket, with a frown still marking his forehead even in his sleep.

You wanted to reach out to him until the movement sent a sharp jab to your stomach and you cried out a bit.

In that split second, Satoru's eyes jerked open, and realizing you were awake, his gaze locked onto yours. "Y/N—" But your strained whimper and expression told him everything. "Does it hurt? I-I'll get Shoko, wait—"

And then he hit the call button. Throughout it all, he kept a firm grip on your hand for reassurance. A few minutes later, Shoko arrived and examined your wound, subsequently administering painkillers to alleviate your discomfort.

"It's going to leave a scar," she explained grimly, showing the mangled skin where the curse had made its mark on you, and seeing that, Satoru clenched his fists.

Shoko sighed, empathizing with her friend's frustration. "It's going to fade with time, don't worry. You did well, Gojo. You brought her here quickly. Had you been even slightly later, there could have been an irreversible damage to her organs."

But your husband remained quiet, unable to bring himself to look at you. And after she left, you tried to finally voice your question to him.

"O-our—"

"He's fine," Satoru immediately answered, squeezing your hand. "Our boy is fine. I'll tell Megumi to visit later—he's with him."

A sigh of relief came out of you. "Thank... goodness."

But his expression seemed to fall even further after hearing your response. Satoru settled himself on the seat next to you and lowered the rail on your bed, allowing you to be even closer to each other.

"Do you not feel any pain anymore?" he asked then, gently tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. He looked so sad, a stark contrast of how he usually was, and it bugged you.

"No... I feel fine now."

"Then, can I hug you?"

Of course you nodded without a second thought, and carefully, he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you close and resting his face on the crook of your neck.

You knew what it was. Satoru was still visibly shaken by what had happened to you, and he wasn't great at expressing himself, so he tried to find consolation through this physical closeness instead.

"I'm okay..." you patted his back, trying to convince him. "I'm alright now, yeah?" But to your surprise, suddenly his whole body started to shake. "Satoru...?"

“…’m sorry.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he nuzzled you. “I shouldn't... have let you get this hurt...”

It always amazes you how Satoru always gets this distressed whenever you sustain any injury. You had seen him cry precisely two times now—once after you gave birth to your son and experienced severe bleeding, and now.

"It's not your fault..." you whispered in response. "You... have protected me well."

He held you tighter, his tone faltering. "I didn't."

"You have..." you stroked his hair, trying to convince him. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

Hearing you say that made Satoru's chest ache. The thought of something like this happening to you was unimaginable, and now that it had, he couldn't come to terms with seeing you hurt right in front of him.

"Don't—" he choked on his voice, his breath trembled against your neck. "Don't ever put yourself in danger again. If something happened to you, I wouldn't be able to live with myself..."

You couldn't make that promise. Despite the pleading in his voice, you knew deep down that your son's life—and his—meant more, and given the chance, you would obviously save theirs for yours.

“Satoru... I love you, you know that, right?”

So you simply embraced him close, hoping that in this life, you would live long enough that he would never have to see you like this again.

Epilogue

"Papa, how do I become stronger?"

Satoru blinked when his son asked him that so innocently and curiously, taken aback as he led him to your private room later that afternoon. "Oh? What brought this on?"

His first and only son, a perfect miniature of himself, pursed his lips. "I don't want Mama to get hurt again..."

Satoru's heart warmed at his baby’s sincere words, and despite himself, he chuckled.

"What's funny?" his son leveled a glare at him. "I'm being serious."

"Well, aren't you such a good boy? Don't worry, kiddo, I'll teach you my ways~"

"What ways?"

"Well, no need to rush, pumpkin. First of all, you will have to harness your skills and then you have to be more like me—"

"Do I have to be like you…? Is there no other way?"

"—? What's wrong with being more like me?"

"Everything...?"

[syluss-littlecrow]

size training with sylus

<slyus x fem!reader>

where you’re size training on Sylus’s dick. ❤️

genre/warnings: smut, pwp, big dick!sylus, size training, size kink, dear god sylus and his fat cock, breeding kink, unprotected sex, pet names, dacryphilia, it’s just sylus brain rot ❤️

w/c: 2K

a/n: I’m on Love & Deepspace fic tumblr! 😮 hope I’ll be welcomed nicely here haha. As a peace offering, this is my present to everyone (and especially the Sylus girlies)!

You shift your body slightly, trying to make yourself comfortable, on top of taking slow breaths, your heart fluttering at Sylus's soft voice coaxing you. 

"That's it. Take it slowly, kitten", his voice slow and deep in your ears. But you don't see the way he's shutting his eyes and biting his inner cheek every time you squeeze around him. He's trying to pace his breathing as well, but it feels so fucking good.

You whine softly against his bare chest, his heat radiating off you, his slender fingers stroking your hair slowly, and his other hand drawing soothing circles on your thighs. 

You don’t remember how it started, but your thoughts start to drift, recalling the times your mind would float whenever Sylus had his lips on yours with you straddling on his thick thighs. He would devour you, painfully slowly because he knows that’s what riles you up, and he definitely enjoys listening to your whimpers, your non-verbal pleas for him to do more to you. He’d make sure your lips are wet and messy once he’s done with you, his touches teasing and light against your skin. Sylus secretly wants you to beg for it, because he knows that he’d give in to you in a heartbeat. His fingers would cup yours that were on his chest, and the look he would give you reset all the butterflies in your stomach. You would feel his thick erection, hidden under the thin silk black bathrobe he’d always wear against your clothed pussy, and dear god, he’s so fucking big. But before you could ask, Sylus would trail his fingers to tease your wet clit and pussy, soaking in your adorable reactions he swears is enough to get him off, erasing the question of wanting him to fuck you off your brain when the pleasure from his fingers tingles through your body. 

Sylus doesn’t pride himself as a generous being, but he thinks he’s always generous enough for you. He realises he enjoys having his face in between your legs, making you squirm, listening to you sob when he overstimulates you with his tongue, making sure his tongue presses and grazes fully on your clit while he listens to you fall apart, his crimson eyes locked onto you while he holds you down to take whatever he’s giving you. 

He’s good at distracting you like that whenever you want to bring up the question of fucking. 

This time though? Through your wet lashes from the overstimulation and hazy thoughts, all you were craving for was just to be fucked stupid by Sylus. Your hand reached out and pushed against his head. Sylus pulled back slightly, confused for a moment. 

“What is it, sweetie?” He paused, his hands trailing up and down your thighs. 

Your mind slowly clears, but your pussy is still pulsing from him tongue fucking you.

“Need you to fuck me, Sylus. Please. I don’t think I can take it any longer.”

Sylus is momentarily taken aback by your demand, but he realises he can’t keep holding it off, mostly because there’s only so much longer he’s able to hold back, especially when you’re begging for him like that. 

“I don’t think-“

“I can take it”, you muttered stubbornly, yanking your partner towards you. You shift yourself above him, straddling his thighs, just shy of his appendage. 

As much as your determination is endearing, Sylus knows your comfort should come first. And he knows very well that his cock isn’t gonna fit into you in one go, so he decides to let you gauge it for yourself—putting your hands into the string of his robe, gesturing you to loosen it. 

And you do, your gaze flickering from his cool expression to his silk robe sliding off his body when you untie the string. 

You swallow hard when his cock comes into view—thick, long and heavy, the tip red with a wet sheen of precum. Yeah, that’s definitely not gonna fit in you in one go. You and him solely being just wet enough wasn’t going to cut it. 

Nonetheless, you’re still determined. Your eyes meet his gaze and an idea pops into his head. 

He intertwines his fingers with yours.

“Tell you what, sweetie. I’ll fit into you slowly. Doesn’t matter how much you can take, I just want to make sure you’re comfortable when you’re doing so.”

“But-“

He presses his lips on the back of your hand. 

“I’ll be fine. You trust me, right?”

You nod, watching the way his eyes soften before you. 

So there you are, lying on your side, facing Sylus, your cunt trying to adjust to his cock as he stretches you open. It’s been a couple of days since you’ve been size training with your partner. It started off with getting his cockhead in, and that was already making you hitch your breath. Then inch by inch he sinks into you from then. He’d let you cock warm him like that and it never failed to leave you so full one session after the next. 

It’d been seven days, and you barely pushed through three-quarters of his girth. Initially, Sylus still could tease you while you tried to take his cock, but as he sunk deeper into you after each session, it started getting harder for him to maintain his composure—every twitch, every squeeze—had him digging his fingers into his palm, clenching against his silk pillow and breathing a little harder. 

He huffs once more when he feels you clench around his cock. 

“If you’re gonna keep clenching around me like that, Kitten, I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it.”

You glance up, watching the way Sylus’s platinum hair becoming a tousled mess against the pillow. His crimson eyes cast to meet yours, his lips pulled into a slight frown. 

“I can’t help it”, you reply, suddenly feeling self-conscious. 

You hear Sylus hiss slightly once more when he twitches inside you. 

“Do you think you could fit another inch in?” It almost comes off as a beg. 

You inhale shakily, shifting yourself further downwards, taking another inch of his cock. The both of you gasp at the sensation. 

You freeze at the thickness. How far down are you already?

“You’re almost all the way in, Kitten”, Sylus whispers, almost as if he heard your thoughts. His breathing is growing heavier by the second, and he’s forcing himself to hold back from just thrusting the remainder of his cock in. It’s dangling over him like his favourite prey. 

His thumb strokes against yours, trying to distract you from the pressure on top of pressing your forehead with kisses, singing you soft praises.

Your mind is gradually turning more hazy with Sylus’s cock taking up the majority of your thoughts, on top of his body soap that’s been creeping into your olfactory senses. The more Sylus inches his cock into you, the more he’s pressing onto your g-spot, and the more it’s starting to make you see stars whenever you blink. You’re growing so sensitive that you’re feeling every throb Sylus’s cock is giving you. 

Your hand is on his arm, trying to ground yourself from the slight soreness. Another strained whimper when Sylus pushes him deeper into your pussy. Slick leaks from your pussy and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Sylus. 

Another kiss to your temple, another circle drawing session on your thigh.

“Do you want me to go all the way in?” 

Your toes curl.

“I can take it.”

So Sylus inches his cock right to the hilt, knocking the wind out of you. 

Tears are prickling at the corner of your eyes, but oh god you do feel so good. 

“How are you feeling, sweetie?”

You hiccup softly. “So full.”

He chuckles. “Such a good girl.” The vibrations of his light laughter only press his tip further onto your g-spot, and it’s making your thighs shake from the impending orgasm. 

“D-don’t move so much, Sylus. You’re gonna make me—“ you try to bury your head into his chest but he stops you with his fingers in your chin. 

“Make you what?” 

He intentionally shifts, and his cockhead hits your sensitive spots again, sending fireworks into your eyelids, and a strained moan. Sylus seems to enjoy your reactions, because then he flips you to your back, his large frame looming over you, forcing you to look up at him with your legs folded, and still with his cock in you. 

Oh no. 

Sylus looks down at you with the faintest glint of softness in his eyes before it completely disappears, now just hunger seeping through the red. 

“Sylus!-“ you gasp, his fullness penetrating into you again, this time easily, considering the wet and sopping mess you’ve made around his cock. 

He only hums in reply, then pulling out slightly before he pushes into you again. He’s found your sweet spots, and he’s not letting it go that easily. 

The knot in your stomach pulls tight, and it’s making you tear up in sheer pleasure. You’re barely able to meet Sylus’s eyes, not when he’s fucking into you and has your head thrown back while you’re fighting to keep your eyelids open. 

It builds and builds. Sylus probably realises it from how much you’re just pulsing on his cock. His thumb rests at the corner of your lips and you let him slip in, your glazed out eyes meeting his. It makes his heart flutter when you’re completely undone like this for him, but he’ll never admit it, at least, not yet. 

“Gonna cum. Fuck, it’s so much, Sylus-“ you whimper before your mind completely melts away. 

“Release all you want on me, sweetie. That’s my good girl.”

That’s enough to send you over the edge—your orgasm hitting you like waves, tingling through your body like electricity, the pleasure eating you up over and over again. Sylus watches affectionately while you fall apart on his cock—the way you’re writhing and squirming, the way his name leaves your lips after every moan, the way your pussy creams so much on his cock. He thinks he’s doomed because he never gonna get enough. 

“Looks like a little kitten made a mess”, Sylus teases. He watches the way cream pools at the base of his cock when he pulls out slightly, only to thrust back into you again. His eyes flutter shut at the tight warmth eating him up, groans replacing his words. 

“Now, can I make a mess in you?” 

Your watery eyes meet his, and he’s equally about to lose all composure. You cup his cheeks, taking him by surprise, before giving him a quick peck on the corner of his lips, and then you nod. Said corner of his lips lift in satisfaction at your approval.

He’s just ready to ruin you. 

His strokes become more heavy, the overstimulation shutting your brain off. Nothing but pleasure is surging through your nerves now. You’re even holding up your legs so Sylus can fuck you deeper. 

“Now be a good girl and take all of it”, he mutters huskily, burying his face against the crook of your neck, his eyes snapped shut and his eyebrows furrowed. 

Despite the fact that you don’t get to see the way Sylus’s face contorts in pleasure when his orgasm hits him, his groans right in your ears serve you satisfied for now while thick white spurts into your abused pussy, filling you up all the way, some seeping past your plugged hole. 

You don’t realise how much you’ve clawed down Sylus’s back while he was emptying himself into you. 

Well, he doesn’t need to know anyway. 

Sylus stays above you for a moment, the both of you catching your breaths. He still has the energy to plant more bites on your neck while you stroke his hair. 

He pulls back to look at your face properly, and all you can think of is how fucking good he looks post-fuck—messy, sweaty, and so fucking delicious-looking. His fingers brush away your strands of hair, and his thumb caresses your bottom lip. 

“You’re truly gonna be the death of me, sweetie.”

[kentopedia]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ LOOK, MOM! — nanami kento

yuuji accidentally calls you mom

contents: nanami x fem!reader, husband nanami hehe, this is very silly and random and stupid, fluff, nanami & reader are yuuji's adoptive parents fr, words: 1059

“nanamin!” yuuji waves at the figure approaching from behind you, a flashy grin appearing on his face as he glances at the blonde man over your shoulder. “i didn’t know you were coming by today!”

kento's hair sweeps over his forehead in the wind, a few strands coming free as he heads towards you. it's a brisk day, and he has two hot coffees in his hands that he'd picked up after his mission.

a bead of sweat drips down yuuji's temple, and he wipes it with his sleeve, still breathing heavily. you'd spent the last hour training together, pushing his physical capabilities. gojo had been busy recently, between all the missions and his conversations with the higher ups.

so, of course, you'd volunteered to teach the newest student when he couldn't. quickly, he became your favorite of the three first years.

“i’m in between assignments.” kento hands you the coffee, places a gentle hand on your lower back with a smile that is hardly there. “mind if i steal my wife away for a bit?”

yuuji shrugs, his face still bright as he glances between the two of you. ever since he’d found out two of his favorite sorcerers were together, he’d hardly shut up about it.

“no problem. i’m going to meet up with fushiguro anyway.” he brushes the dirt off his pants, waving to the two of you.

“good job today, yuuji!” grateful for something to warm you up in the chilly air, you take a sip of the coffee. it’s perfect, as always, just what you needed. “you’re improving a lot!”

he grins, proud of his accomplishments. “thanks, mom! see you later!”

there's an elongated moment of silence.

you choke on your coffee as kento stiffens beside you, watching while yuuji comes to a skittering halt.

all three of you freeze. you cough, clearing your throat, and kento's hand, steady on your back, has stilled. “yuuji—“

“oh,” the teenager says, his face turning bright red as he realizes what he’s called you. he glances between the two of you, embarrassment evident. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to—“

though, you don’t give yuuji enough time to protest. within seconds, you’ve gathered him up in your arms, squeezing the younger boy to your chest. “kento, we have a son!”

you feel yuuji tense, before he relaxes, and throws his arms around you in an even tighter hug. there’s some sort of thanks resting there. he laughs, carefree, a sound you never want to be taken away from the boy who manages to shine so brightly in such a dark world.

kento stares at you, folds his glasses up in his pocket, as if to show you both how unimpressed he is. “do we?” he asks, lips flat, though, you see through the facade to the amusement hidden in his irises. “i'm certain i would’ve remembered something like that.”

you make a face at him, covering yuuji’s ears dramatically. “oh, don’t listen to your dad, yuuji. he’s old, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

kento blinks, and then sighs, wrinkling his nose. though, when he sees yuuji’s wide grin, his eager expression, he decides to play along.

“well, then... there must be a lapse in my memory." kento crosses his arms over his chest as he regards the two of your extensively, searching for something. "that would certainly explain the striking resemblance between us.” he says drily.

yuuji laughs, a loud snort. he looks nothing like either of you, but you’re not sure he’s ever gotten to witness kento's sarcastic sense of humor, the one that not everyone really gets.

“exactly!” yuuji quips back to kento’s blank expression. "everyone tells me i have the same smile as my dad!

kento’s trying hard not to let yuuji win that one, but you can see the slight wrinkle around his eye, the tiny quirk of his lips. beside the pink haired boy, you choke out a few giggles, covering your mouth.

“yes," kento nods, solemn. "i’ve heard that as well.”

"so you do know how to make jokes, nanamin!" yuuji shouts, nearly jumping in the air as he cheers. "i can't wait to tell fushiguro this."

kento rolls his eyes, but yuuji’s so pleased, and he releases you, his eyes soft and bright as he pulls away.

though he doesn’t say it, doesn't thank you for anything, you can tell he’s grateful. itadori yuuji may be happy with his life as it is now, may have found a home within the friends he’s made at the high school, but you know he misses his grandfather. sometimes, perhaps, he even longs for the conventional family he never really got to have.

you ruffle his hair, the pink strands catching between the cracks of your fingers. “tell him i said hello too.”

yuuji nods, stuffing his hands in his pocket as he steps away. “i will!” his cheerful gaze is pinned on your husband, a secretive smile making a home on his lips. “bye, dad.”

kento shakes his head, and sighs again, though you can tell, a part of him is touched to have won so much of yuuji's admiration. “have a good evening, itadori.”

you watch the young boy scurry away, hands in his pockets as he braces himself against the cold.

"you should be nicer to your son, kento."

kento snorts, throwing an arm over your shoulder as he brings you closer to him. "i am nice to him," he says, kissing your temple softly. "a little hard on him, maybe, but i just don't want anything bad to happen to him."

you soften, look up at him with warm eyes, and you squeeze the hand that is resting on your shoulder. "i know," you say, your heart clenching. you've thought about it before, thought of kento with a tiny child that looks just like him, cradled against his chest. thought of him with a little girl whose hair he can braid, a little boy he can raise to be a gentleman.

but you hadn't talked about it; you'd always thought your life was too busy, too dangerous for children.

"you'd make a good dad, ken," you say, your cheeks flushed as you grin at him.

kento's eyes flash. "really?" an array of emotions scurries across his features before he leans down, kissing you softly. "is this your way of telling me you want a baby, sweetheart?" his voice deepens as he whispers against your lips, smiling. "because i'm more than happy to give you one."

[sugume]

MOMENTS WITH YOUR PREGNANT BELLY w/Jujutsu Kaisen  

( CW ) f!reader, reader is pregnant(duh), tooth-rotting fluff  

Featuring: Gojo Satoru, Toji Fushiguro, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru 

author's note: short rewrite from my old blog

☾ GOJO SATORU 

"Toru, stop splashing my stomach!" you exclaimed at your playful husband, attempting to push the lukewarm bathwater onto your stomach, inadvertently splashing your face. "But she likes it, look!" he exclaimed with a huge smile as your daughter continued to kick your stomach. "I don’t need to look; I can feel it," you rolled your eyes. "Feels like she’s trying to break my ribs." You let out a little grunt when she kicks a particular spot. Satoru shoots a worried glance at you. "Are you alright?" he asks, rubbing smooth circles on your stomach. "I'm okay; she just keeps kicking the same spot," you gave him a small smile when he leans down to kiss your belly. "Hey now, take it easy on your momma, or no more splashes for you," he mummers to your stomach. As if your daughter understood, she stops and starts gently kicking in another area. "Look, Angel, she listened to me!" he exclaims before pushing more water into your stomach. "Toru! You got water in my nose!" 

☾ TOJI FUSHIGURO 

"Are you okay, beautiful?" Toji inquired, concern evident in his eyes as he observes you holding your stomach with a furrowed expression. "Just a big kick from the baby," you struggle to get out, your stomach contracting. "C'mere--lemme make you feel better, baby," he whispered, sitting up on the headboard of the bed and pulling you between his open legs. "What are you doing, Toji?" You question as your husband reached towards the nightstand to grab something. "Makin’ my girl feel better–just lay down and relax," he whispers in your ear before placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder. With the cramps becoming unbearable, you had no other choice but to obey. Eyes squeezed tight, body resting on Toji’s toned chest, you tense when he starts to gently massage your stomach with what feels like lotion. A moan of relief escaped you involuntarily. "That’s right, let me take care of you," he mummers, continuing the soothing massage. 

☾ NANAMI KENTO 

"Are you ready to taste heaven, babies?" Nanami smiles warmly at your stomach as if expecting your unborn twins to give a response. Quickly, he leans down and places two affectionate kisses on your stomach, one for each baby. "C'mon, Kento, ’m hungry!" you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. Nanami was supposed to be giving you new food items that he found online, but the more he talks, the more it seems like he's eager for his children to be the taste testers rather than you. "You know they can’t actually give you a review, right?" you question your husband, but he ignores your sass and reaches for a plate. "Duh, ‘course I know that, but they're still going to taste it inside of you," he says as if it's the most obvious thing. "Yeah, all mashed up and mixed with a bunch of different foods. Now, give me that plate–I’m hungry!" you insist, reaching out for the plate as your husband laughs. 

☾ GETO SUGURU 

"I don’t think they like me," Suguru grumbles, and you laugh as your unborn child tries and fails to kick their father's head off your stomach. "Hell," Suguru yanks his head up and glares at your protruding stomach. "Hey, don’t cuss at my baby," you laugh. "I wouldn’t have to if my baby wasn’t trying to give me a concussion," he rolls his eyes dramatically before rubbing his calloused fingers on your stomach, The baby kicks at his hand. "Don't be so dramatic, Sugu," you roll your eyes at your husband as he continues to tease your child with his hand. "How do you think I feel when they’re kicking my bladder at three AM?" you laugh. "You better not come out as moody as your mommy," he taunts before pressing a soft kiss on your stomach. "I’ll give you whatever you want when you come out if you let me lay down in peace, deal?" he whispers to your stomach, and all he gets is a harsh kick. "Deserved.” You huff out. 

[cosycafune]

RELENTLESS CONQUEROR

1.5k words. you’re not supposed to give in; that’s your first mistake. confessing to a man that’s notorious for deals is only going to screw you over. but, having him between your thighs, ruining you, makes you forget about sylus’ nature.

acts: multiple creampies, slight choking, rough sex, teasing, corruption kink, breeding kink, crying, orgasms, missionary, light sadistic tendencies, pet names, overstimulation, size difference, big cock, hickeys and potentially more.

a/n: there's only so much I can write for him. I love him.

RUINED, that’s what you are. The moment you revealed your love for Sylus, he couldn’t help but grasp you – sexually reforming you. As a confession fleed from your lips, his usually stoic demeanour faltered. Faltered with cockiness that you knew would be your demise.

Perhaps that was why you’re here right now? Pulverised, stuffed immensely with his colossal cock? Tears streamed from your wavering eyes, paving you into gasping, moaning and writhing as he thrusts inhumanely within you. All forms of coherency fled from you, leaving you a trembling, jolting mess – mushy at Sylus’ precise cock ruining.

Your gummy walls engulf him, completely overwhelmed and claimed. Tears stream down your cheeks while Sylus cloudily meets your eyes, taking you in missionary. To him, he had to memorise you in your rawest form. Rawest form as your large breasts bounce, your pursed lips stammer crazily, and your throat bubbling with his name.

“Sylus! Ah!” You hazily moan, barely capable of holding his sculpted back – lazily attempting to clutch the ridges of Sylus’ abs.

“Fuck! Say… you love me, Sweetie,” Authoritatively pleading, Sylus’ carmineeyes admire your prisoned self — fuelled by lustful adrenaline.

“Ngh! I-I…love you, Sy’,” Moaning, whining obediently, you arch abnormally – completely conquered by Sylus’ cock thrusting its deepest within you.

“A-Again,” Cloudily commanding you, Sylus picks up his extremely swift pace – in love with the addictive warmth that flows from your needy cunt.

“Yes! I…Ah! Love…you,” Flustered, you're barely able to speak – mentally consumed by Sylus grunting within your ear.

“Look at…you, sweetie,” So close to crumbling, you grow extremely close to finishing – longing for Sylus to inform you that he loves you.

Positioned upon his ample, seclusive bed, you glimpse into his eyes. A whisper of vulnerability holds them, leading to you guiding your trembling hand to settle upon his cheek. Even as your small hand is entwined with his own, his toned hips primal, marking you with his fruitful cock, Sylus listened to every essence of you.

It’s as if he preyed on your vulnerability, posing himself to watch your crumbled expressions worship his cock. With each lick of sweat upon you, each gasp, moan and plead for more, you knew Sylus basked within it. No, you knew he had estimated how long it’d take for you to break your intimate barriers for him. Innately, guided by fate, you knew he was mentally intrigued by how swiftly you admitted your love. Admitted your love to be beneath him, overpowered by his veiny cock, consistently cumming and faltering.

“‘Need…more,” Pleading, moulded to accommodate Sylus eternally, you grow obedient.

The obedience you display sculpts Sylus into a hazardous state, boyishly grinning before he maintains intense eye contact. Wealthy with your clinginess, Sylus increases the skin slapping in the room, watching your eyes impossibly roll back, your brain mushed at how stupidly good he fucked you. Sylus is proud and consumed by how someone as stubborn and naive as you handle him. Handle his devilish cock, going an unstable amount of sexual rounds. 

Seeing you, someone promoted as untouchable, detesting his presence, sexually succumbing to him – begging – heightened Sylus’ ego. Taunting you, he can’t help but stop his addicted cock – looking down at the ego-shattering mess of you. If you knew what you looked like, pouty, messy, flaunting glassy eyes for him, he knew you’d be unable to redeem yourself.

“S-So…near,” Breathless, you choppily hurl your pointless words, “D-Don’t…stop.” Clenching drastically around Sylus’ cock, you lovingly press your lips against his own – listening to his air-less breaths.

“When you…kiss me like that.” Lulled by you, Sylus is incapable of resisting – relishing the intimate warmth your kiss promotes.

Sombrely, you both had kissed in disadvantaged circumstances. Obstacles engulfed you both each time. So, sacrificing your honour, and giving Sylus genuine affection, warmed him immensely. Having you, knowing you were once discontent with him, flares Sylus’ primal instincts. A surge of desperation writes his fate, paving him into gifting you a deep thrust – greeting the sexual spots you love heavily.

“I…love you,” Subconsciously speaking, you gasp with each thrust – revealing each mental card you hold. Your poker face had crumpled, leaving behind your purest love for Sylus.

“Mhm,” Sylus mutters, feeling you frantically clench around him – unable to compose yourself. You’re so close to faltering, cumming all over his pulsating cock – but your subconsciousness wants to hear him return your words.

“Do…you?” Teary, faintly questioning Sylus, you greet his rolling eyes – noticing his firmness increasing within you.

“Hm–” As Sylus readies himself to speak, you mewl, too overwhelmed by the macaroni-imitating sounds, the wicked skin slapping and the emotion-heavy atmosphere.

Breathing heavily beneath him, attempting to pry Sylus away, so close to finishing, you sink further into the bedsheets. Spewing tears, your eyes close, your lips draw apart further and your back arches. Even caged, presented with limited freedom, you impulsively gather might. Using your might, you claw at Sylus’ back, your dainty hands barely covering the surface of his manly back.

“Ah! Sylus!” Freeing yourself, you clamp around his pulsating cock – finishing intensely. Your willpower shredded itself, surrendering you to Sylus entirely.

“Finished?” Teasing you, Sylus sharpens his pounding – decimating your overstimulated pussy. Even as your adorable cum decorates his manly cock, he can’t help but continue – bounded by the feeling of you.

“G-Good,” Mentally misplaced, you respond to his fuzzy voice – noticing the Sylus’ eager bucking.

To you, you could sense he longed for more. Each one of his thrusts was becoming a little sloppy, paired with his heavy breathing. Sylus is dripping with sweat, admiring a sleepy you – burying himself his deepest within you. He knew you struggled to take his thickness, but easing you through it was the best thing he had ever done. It represents the subconscious trust you carry for him, revealing your nude vulnerability and your guarded heart.

“L-Let…me,” Pussy-stricken, Sylus stutters – consumed by the tingling warmth that cuddles his whole physique. However, he still has adorable, crimson ears. Ears you’d always tease.

Nodding, you lazily wrap your burly legs around Sylus’ abdomen – desperate to immortally seize him. Nothing in you wanted to release his closeness, to protect your future. Everything within you wanted to keep him here, have him cum in you so many times, uncaring if you end up pregnant. All you wanted was everything of him, no matter how much love bit you – putting you in overwhelming situations.

Sacrificing yourself, you feel Sylus grow increasingly aggressive and more possessive. Animalistically, he brings his hand to settle around your neck – moaning, grunting and growling at the submissive scenery of you. Sylus goes his absolute hardest, turned on by your overstimulated self. Just seeing you, croakily moaning, completely broken into, churned his heart. 

You’re all his now, something he won’t forfeit. Even as you subconsciously cry, your jiggly breasts bouncing, your squelching pussy wanting more, Sylus can’t bring himself to release you. He knows you want all of his thick, fruitful buckets of semen, but he wanted to taunt you a little bit. Even if it renders him into painful, yet beautiful, pleasure, he doesn’t care. Depriving you, corrupting you, it was what he loved most. As if he’d give you his cum right now, filling you up to listen to you purr with satisfaction.

“‘Can’t…resist,” Admiring your hickey-scattered self, Sylus cries out with angst – his abdomen a crazed mess as he intensely cums inside of you.

Happily, Sylus stuffed you like a twinkie bar – overstuffing you with his spilling seed. As you arch at his extremely intense release, Sylus softly increases the pressure on your neck – remaining his deepest within you. Whilst you’re laying beneath him, a sticky and sweaty mess, he lets his cock kiss your cervix once more – shooting out his last cum spurts. Marking you made him gleeful, leaving you with a belly full of him.

He did not care that you’re ovulating, right now.

“You…did good, sweetie,” Exhausted, pulling out, Sylus breathlessly praises you – looking into your fluttering eyes. He could see the conflict that stirred within your glassy eyes.

“Y-Yeah, but,” Doubtful, you stop speaking – feeling him alter his physique. Sylus slowly settled you upon his chest, giving a nude you the sound of his rumbling heartbeat.

“Speak,” Doused with curiosity, Sylus’ low, scruffy tone forces you to answer. His authority’s off the charts, knowing you’re vulnerable now.

“You never said it,” Physically drained, you respond to him – meekly shying away at his intimidating demeanour.

“That I love you, sweetie?” Sylus’ almost conclusive question causes your stomach to inhabit butterflies.

You didn’t even care that you could get pregnant or anything that could happen.

“Yeah,” Meek, you reply to an attentive him – listening to Sylus’ heartbeat rise erratically. 

You did that.

“I love you, sweetie,” Embedded with truth, Sylus reassures you – plastering a gentle kiss upon your temple.

Gentleness adheres to you, causing you to cave into his hold. Listening to him speak so sincerely, riddled with the art of love, completely consumed you. Heartiness adheres to you, pushing you into relishing Sylus’ presence. Even if love bites, you can’t help but relish Sylus’ presence – rendered love-stricken.

Weirdly, you didn’t want to resist the bites of love. Naturally, you pledge to embrace them – especially since they came from Sylus.

—

do not copy, modify or claim any of my works as your own. all rights reserved; cosycafune. 2024. read more.

[ellabscrush]

— fucking you behind the screen.

thinking about getting pounded by your gamer girlfriend’s strap while unmuted..

pairings; gamer!ellie williams x reader

cw; men and minors don’t interact, making out, strap use, breeding kink, agoraphilia, r uses “daddy” to ellie once, language, dom!ellie, sub!reader.

ways you can help, boycott, do not support neil.

“jesse the fuck was that?” ellie laughs at the guy behind the mic when he missed the shot.

“dina, get him!” she shouted, “fuck yeah!”

your girlfriends excessive cursing and yelling across the room made you snap out of your phone while scrolling on tiktok, wondering if she was about to break her setup right about now.

it was mid winter and the apartment was freezing so you threw on a zip up over your top underneath, feeling the warm athmosphere disappearing from your body as you walked out your room.

“holy shit els, it’s freezing” you said shivering tensely towards the living room, but she didn’t hear you.

“took out your friend.. fucking cunt.”

not gonna lie, her little frustrated grunts and insults were very attractive, you thought. you stared at her hands switching in between buttons, her eyes glued on the screen showing her focus, manspreading enough room for you to eat her out down there.. she looked too good.

you plopped yourself on to the couch, loud enough to make her turn over, pausing her activity. she sets down her headphones and took a long look at you.

she lays back on her chair, “hey you,” she sighs.

“you almost done?” you asked, desperate for some attention.

“almost,” she replies, “this game is pissing me off anyway.”

you smiled, having a silent moment between the two of you. there was a familiar tension, but unsure wether you should go along. ellie kept scanning you up and down like she hadn’t seen you in forever, technically she hadn’t since she’d been playing all day.

“you need somethin?” you asked with confused expression.

“do i look like i need something?” she teased, licking her lips.

you shrugged, shyly looking down as you we’re hiding the redness forming in your face. you couldn’t act normal around her when she looked this good, i mean she always looks good. you soon got up from the couch, walking towards your girlfriend, giving her a long wet kiss.

“you should take this off” she insisted while tugging at your zipper, her tone switching making you go insane.

ellie, being her clumsy self, didn’t mute.

“get a room!” jesse and dina yells from the speaker, unaware the two could listen to you both smothering eachother.

“shut up,” she pulls down the mic, “i’ll get on soon.”

you burried yourself in the crook of her neck from embarrassment and laughed. she pulled you in for a deeper kiss, pulling up your one thigh and the other on to her lap.

“can we make this quick?” ellie asks making you confused, “take this shit off,” she demanded quietly, making sure her friends doesn’t hear.

“just mute it ellie,” you giggled in between the kisses.

she lets out another smirk, this time having an idea behind it.

she whispers in your ear that made you shiver a bit hearing her talk in such a dirty way as she fills you in on her plan. contemplating her genius yet scary idea, you couldn’t help but feel the adrenaline rushing up on you. it turned you on and so you agreed.

“suck.”

ellie puts her middle and ring finger in your wet mouth, prepping it with your saliva before it goes in you. she turns her chair towards her pc, leaving a bit of room for you.

“stream your screen,” she speaks into the mic, “i’ll just watch you both from here.”

a few minutes later, her strap was going in and out behind you, making you cry just trying to keep your moans in. back arched and both hands on the rim of the table infront of you as ellie make your stomach turn.

“shh, can’t let them hear you now.”

“mmph.. so deep..” you whimpered.

at this point you were barely clothed, nipples poking through the see through, thin fabric of your bra. ellie gropping your perky tits as hard as she wanted, you were hers. she could do whatever she wanted.

her hips moving faster and faster, holding yourself up with just two grips on her white desk. her praises for keeping quiet were not helping, it made you even louder.

“you look so slutty right now,” she basically drooled, “asking to get fucked under that jacket?”

“y-yes” you say quietly, “fuck daddy.”

the name made ellie flustered. her hand grabbing your jaw while your mouth was hanging open dry, she stared at the long silicone disappearing inside of you.

“ellie- i cant-“ you squeeled as you tried reaching her arms, begging for some gentleness.

“yes you can,” she whispers in your ear, “be a good girl and let me fuck you in secret, okay?”

you didn’t say anything, you couldn’t, so you just nodded. ellie kissed down your neck to your shoulder as a reward for listening, being a good girl just for her.

“gonna fuckin’ breed you..” ellie muttered in your ear, “being s-such a good mama for me.”

it started getting rough, more than before. the image in your head of what you two looked like right now, or even getting caught by her friends made you more horny. your body started shuttering and the familiar feeling of pleasure in your thighs took over.

“please baby..” you moaned trying to keep your composure.

“faster?” she asked knowing the answer, “yeah i know you want it faster, love.”

your girlfriend started pounding you like crazy while firmly gripping your swollen ass.

“perfect fucking ass sucking it in.. godd.”

the little action figures on the desk falling, table hitting the wall, making you realize how loud you two were being.

“mm ellie too much..” you whined, “please slow down!”

suddenly, she couldn’t take your begging anymore. as much as she loved hearing you, she had to shut you up. her hands quickly covered your mouth, “quit talking,” she growled.

“you have to keep it down, can you do that?” she raises her eyebrow while making eye contact with you, basically making this harder for you purposely.

“answer my fucking question. do you want me to stop?”

“no.. els no,” was all you could mumble out, “fuckk”

that last moan alerted the two on the other side of the screen, luckily ellie saved it.

“yo ellie you good?” jesse asks, “uh yeah! just bumped my knee.”

“idiot,” he laughed.

that was close. your quick taps on her hand covering your mouth lured her attention back on you, begging with teary eyes to cum. ellie was full in lust looking at you being a needy whore bent over.

she took the palm of he hand out and put her thumb in your mouth while continuing to pound you hard. your mumbled words were frustrating her, “words baby, words.”

she pushes you back towards her chest, “need your cum..” you begged looking up at her, “fuck me please.”

with that, your wishes came true as she railed you deep and faster. making you reach your climax with every thrust coming in and out of your hole.

“ellie!-“

“shut it,” she covers your mouth again aggressively, slapping your ass with one free hand. the gesture secretly making you more close to orgasming.

“that’s my slut getting fucked behind for everyone to hear.”

you couldn’t help yourself but moaned, not even caring who could hear you at this point.

“yeah?” ellie mocks, “like it that much?”

you nodded. your girlfriend feeling better right about now for letting her take it all out on you over a game.

“i’m fucking cumming.. holy shit,” you pant out of breath, feeling the turns in your stomach and liquid dripping down your thighs.

“i’m gonna cum in you, baby” ellie groaned, “make you.. all mine.”

“yes cum in me oh my god!”

she grabs your shoulders, “take my fucking dick.. f-fuck.”

ellie swore she could feel you, seeing the white ring forming on the strap made her smile just knowing no one else could fuck you this good.

“i love breeding you baby.. fill you up with that warm.. sticky cum, yeah?” ellie continues to please you as you ride out her strap, “goodd girl.. it’s okay mama.”

“els i’m shaking,” you whined, “no more..”

“you did good baby.”

don’t worry, she was actually muted this time.

[mattybsgroupie]

homework | matt sturniolo

contents: making out; oral (f receiving); handjob (m receiving); sub!matt

- ♡ -

notes: my plan was to post this during the weekend but im anxious to go back to college and i couldn’t help myself and ended up writing everything yesterday lol very nerdy subby matty receiving his first handjob ♡ as usual not proofread but hope you enjoy it lots! tysm for over 1,1K followers ♡ much much love always!

- ♡ -

i heard three rhythmic knocks on my bedroom door and quickly got up, unlocking it and suddenly bumping into matthew, the smartest guy in my class. matt was clever, but extremely quiet - which only made him more charming. i recalled his ears turning a bright red when i asked him for help with my homework, shyness taking over him as he briefly nodded his head.

“hey!” he greeted me, offering a handshake. i touched his hand, slightly caressing his palm with my index, watching as he tried to look away. “we talked yesterday, about… some lessons? you need help with homework?”

“yes!” i happily agreed, spreading the door open. “come in matt, make yourself comfortable”

matt nodded, holding tightly to the books hidden under his arm. “is it really okay for me to be here?” he chuckled. “i mean… it’s the girls dorm”

“don’t worry about it, boys come here all the time” i winked at matt’s figure, balancing his weight from one foot to another, clearly anxious. “unless you… wanna go to the library or something?”

“no!” he eagerly answered. “i-i can teach you here. it’s okay”.

- ♡ -

i wasn’t listening to a single world he said.

matt’s blue eyes underneath the round glasses seemed agitated, following the numbers i had previously written on my notebook. i could see matt’s lips trying to hold a smile at each wrong result, his digits tapping on the yellow pencil between his fingers.

“… so if you divide it by 100, it’s easier to find the percentage” he took me out of my trance, turning his head to stare at me with a confused expression on his face. “am i doing good? are you getting it?”

“you’re doing so good, matt” i let it slip out of my mouth without even thinking, my head resting on my hand while i admired matt’s cheeks flushing red as he gulped. “look at me” i said, raising my finger to his jaw as he tried to look away.

i could feel his breath getting heavier, lips slightly parted as he stood still, not moving an inch. i got closer to him, brushing my lips over his before sealing them together in a small kiss. matt’s hand quickly went to the back of my neck, deepening the pressure of his lips against mine. when i opened my mouth so he could slide his tongue in, matt pulled away - but not far enough, a string of saliva still connecting us to each other.

“i-i’m sorry” he looked at me, panting heavily. “i shouldn’t have done that, i’m really sorry”.

“don’t be” i cupped his cheeks in my palms, giving him a soft peck. “i want it matt, i really do”

“but” he started, eyes traveling through the room, as if he was checking if someone caught us. “i thought y-you wanted to study”

“you already taught me so much” i jokingly pouted, pretending i was tired. the more matt talked, the wetter my panties would get. “why don’t i teach you a few things?” i said, letting one of my hands rest on his thigh.

“like what?” matt asked me hesitantly, looking at how my hand caressed his covered skin. i reached closer to his crotch, accidentally brushing my digits on his half-hard cock, tenting starting to form on his pants.

i smashed our lips together once more, this time hungrier, the wet sounds of our tongues interlocking taking over my dorm. my fingers tangled on matt’s brown curls, carefully pulling his hair so i could get easier access to his neck. i unbuttoned the closed collar of his shirt, traveling down the fabric and repeating the process over and over again.

matt took his glasses off, tossing it over my study table, his hands finally coming to my waist. he didn’t have the courage to tighten his grip and i knew this was the boldest move he’d be able to make, so i grabbed matt’s wrist and brought his palm to my chest, letting him grope my covered tits.

i gasped from the sudden touch, noticing how this made made hesitant to keep kissing me. “a-are you okay?” he asked with puppy, blue eyes.

“yes, fuck- you’re being so good to me”, i sighed heavily and matt nodded eagerly, bringing his mouth to my neck, sucking onto my skin. “what got you so worked up hm?” i asked as i watched his pants getting tighter, fully hard cock.

“fuck! i’m sorry- i didn’t even notice” matt looked down, eyes widening. “you’re just so pretty” he confessed.

“you’re so cute, matt. do you want me to help you out?” i asked, palming him over his jeans.

“please” he let out in a choked moan, “please touch me”

the grin on my face grew wide as matt sunk his teeth on his bottom lip, trying to cover his soft whimpers as i kept on stroking his clothed cock.

i unzipped his jeans, sneaking my fingers into his underwear so i could pull out matt’s dick, which quickly sprung against my palm, almost hitting his own belly. matt adjusted himself on the chair, spreading his legs apart as his mouth hang open. i finally got a proper grip of his shaft, wrapping my fingers around his surprisingly large cock.

matt let out a loud groan when i finally started twisting my hand, lifting his left arm to cover his own face. “why are you so shy, baby?” i whispered in his ear.

“n-never… never done that” matt said, squirming on his sit as i pumped him.

“never had a girl touching you like that?” i cooed, watching matt nodding vigorously. “it’s okay, i promise it’s gonna feel good”

“it- mhm- feels good!” he bucked his hips forward when i moved my thumb upwards, circling his leaking tip. “i’m not g-gonna last long” matt said as i tightened the grasp on his length. he kept on jointing his hips, trying to fuck into my fist in a pathetic, sloppy pace.

“you wanna cum for me, matt? wanna show how much of a good boy you are?” i kissed his cheek and tucked his hair behind his red ear, continuously jerking him off.

“fuck, please!” he said, the loudest he’d been the entire night. “i’m your good boy! wanna cum, p-please”

“go ahead” i allowed him, peppering pecks on his damp forehead, sweat dripping from his neck all the day down to his tummy, which was soon painted white from matt’s release. he threw his head back, whimpering as he came on my hand, thick spurt messing us both. 

i got up to wash my hands and grab him a towel, letting matt rest as he came from his high, chest still rising rapidly.

“thank you” he mumbled when i offered to clean him up. “i’m sorry i made such a mess” matt chuckled, watching as i wiped his cum off. “don’t apologize, you did really well babyboy” i praised.

“can… can i try?” he asked me, reaching for his glasses over the table. he quickly put them on again, reading my confused expression. “i wanna make you feel good too” matt said, turning his body to face me.

“you want me to teach you how to please a girl?” i teased him, bringing both of my legs to my chest, exposing the back of my thighs to him.

matt checked me out from head to toe, stopping where my feet landed and not being able to take his eyes off the panties i purposely wore. i knew he’d love pink. “no, not any girl. you- wanna be good for you” he confessed, sliding off his chair and kneeling on the ground.

i widened my eyes, not expecting matt’s sudden move. he touched the hem of my shorts, silently asking me to take them off. i quickly removed it, letting it slide down my legs along with my panties, fully exposing my pussy to him.

“oh, fuck” he mumbled. “it’s so pretty and it’s… it’s all wet”

“you did that to me” i told him, moving my hair to the side so i could get a better look of matt eating me out for the first time.

“how should i do it?” he asked, blue eyes looking for reassurance. my hands went to his brown curls, bringing his face closer to my crotch.

matt stuck his tongue out, slowly licking my lower lips. he widened his eyes once again, probably surprised by the taste and gave it another try as i giggled at his shy performance. matt’s large hands went to my thighs, forcing my legs open as he fully went for it, pressuring a kiss against my clit. i gasped when he started to swirl his tongue on me, spit drooling down his chin as he licked me in the messiest, sloppiest way.

“matt” i called but he didn’t even listen, still eating me out, only raising his eyebrows as he looked at me through his glasses. “you never done this before?” i sighed deeply, tangling my fingers on his hair as i lowered my hips on him.

matt hummed something, probably agreeing with what i had asked, but this only send a wave of vibrations through my folds, my thighs suddenly closing around his head as i felt my orgasm approaching. he was way too good for a virgin.

“matt- fuck!” i moaned loudly, the knot on my lower belly begging to be released. “i’m gonna cum!” i warned as he was about the have a taste for the first time. he moved downwards and started to tease my entrance, his tongue pushing inside my slit as i kept on moving my hips, practically humping his face.

matt continued to eat me out as my orgasm washed over me, making me throw my head back and my body tremble due the overstimulation. i had to pull his hair so he’d remove himself from me, watching his swollen lips covered with my cum. matt licked my release and went back to my thighs, biting my bare skin. “enough, baby” i moaned, feeling his hands holding me in place. “matthew, i said enough”.

he groaned in protest, not wanting to stop. matt gave a few more kisses down my legs, pulling away and staring at me with puppy eyes. i caressed his brown strands, soon cupping his cheeks and sealing our lips. “you did really well for a first time, matt” i thanked him as he got up, sliding his jeans back on.

“so…” he started. “i’m guessing you gave up on your homework?”

“of course not” i rolled my eyes, watching as he buttoned his shirt. “i’m gonna need this good boy to help me every week”.

- ♡ -

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[kyletogaz]

Sharing Is Caring

established soap x fem!reader, ghost x fem!reader, pre-ghoap x fem!reader, soap & ghost are menaces, johnny sends porn without consent, just 3.5k words full of dialogue & everyone being nasty

“shove it up your ass, mactavish!”

“bonnie, wait—” johnny reached out to grab your arm to keep you from storming past him and to your bedroom, but you yanked yourself out of his grasp with a scowl on your pretty face.

“don’t you bonnie me, john. i cannot believe you!” you almost laughed when he started protesting at your use of his government name.

“john?!” he squawked indignantly, before narrowing his eyes.

you raised an eyebrow at your lover, “that’s your name, is it not?”

a deep rumble of laughter sounded off from behind you, making you turn to see simon sitting on your sofa, staring at both of you with an expression full of mirth. you glared at him for a second, then turned back to johnny who was pouting. well he should have thought about that before he did what he did.

“you better explain yourself, johnny. how did simon get that video of me?” as soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted asking, because you already know the answer. you watched johnny glance at simon first, then back to you, before he shrugged and gave you a look. he’d sent the video to simon. “did you show kyle too?” you asked with a look of horror. “what about your captain?” you’d have to go dig a hole and bury yourself in it if he did.

johnny, the bastard, actually had the audacity to smirk and tell you that he only sent the video to simon, and that he should have sent him the other one too. it was obvious to you, that your man clearly didn’t give a damn.

all you could do was stare at him in shock. "what the hell is wrong with you!? i know he's your bestie, but do you have to share everything with him?” you’re actually terrified at the thought of johnny letting simon watch the other video.

"that a problem, doll?"

"is that a—yes, it’s a problem,” you snapped at simon, before sighing loudly. “you know what, screw this." you needed to be far away from them.

but you don't even make it off the couch. two sets of hands yanked you back down. you let out a hiss of annoyance when simon mentioned the movie not being over yet. as if you really gave a shit about what’s happening on the tv screen.

“yer the one who picked it out in the first place, hen.”

you make sure johnny sees which finger you’re holding up in his direction. fuck off. to annoy you even further, johnny made sure to give you as less space as possible, so that you were practically sitting in their laps. you begged whichever god who would listen to give you strength. you folded your arms over your chest with a huff as you stared at the tv screen, while silently conjuring up ways to make johnny pay for sending simon that video of you fucking yourself with your favorite dildo.

“gonna pout about it?” simon asked, his voice low in your ear.

you rolled your eyes at him, silently fuming when he laughed. you wanted so badly to tell him and johnny to go to hell, but you kept your mouth shut. and you were too silent for their liking, seeing as though you always had something to say during movie night.

“ye not gonna stay mad at us all night, are ye bonnie?” johnny asked with an imploring look, his blue eyes getting sadder by the second.

“don’t look at me like that, mactavish,” you scowled, before turning your head away. he wasn’t fooling anybody with those puppy dog eyes.

“for what’s it worth, it was good wankin’ material.”

simon’s words and johnny’s poorly concealed laughter was your last straw. they watched you shove your way off the sofa and stomp down the hallway to your bedroom, both of them wincing when you made sure to slam the door as loud as you could.

johnny heaved a sigh. “well ye’v gone and done it now, simon.”

simon waved him off, telling him that you’d be fine once you were done with your tantrum. he gave you a few more minutes, before he got off the sofa and headed straight for your bedroom. he was surprised when the doorknob turned without any resistance. you didn’t even sit up when you heard the door open. you knew it would only be a matter of time, before one of them barged into the room.

“you done actin’ like a brat?”

your first thought was to ignore him, but then you realized simon wasn’t going to go away if you didn’t answer his question. “just leave me alone, simon.”

but simon refused. you let out a groan when you felt the bed shift, as warm hands tried to pry your legs open. “let me in.”

you don’t move. you stare off to the side, so you don’t have to look at him. you’re still upset with him and johnny. “could have sworn i told you to leave me alone,” you pointed out, not even bothering to hide your annoyance. you really wanted to tell him to kiss your ass, but knowing the type of man simon was, he would have flipped you over, pulled your shorts down and did just that.

“wanna fuck you, let me in,” simon demanded as he rubbed up and down your thighs.

you pressed your lips together to hide a soft moan when he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh. you had half a mind to push him away, while the rest of your brain zeroed in on the fact that your pussy was starting to get wet. then you remembered johnny, your fucking boyfriend, who was still in the living room. you sat up so fast, you almost knocked your knee into simon’s skull. and maybe you should have, it would serve him right.

“this is crazy.” simon’s never approached you like this before. “why do you want to–” you looked away, not even being able to finish your sentence. simon wanted to fuck you and you were going to let him, if you were satisfied with his answer.

“because i want you,” he confessed in a flat tone. “wanted you since the first day johnny introduced us to each other.”

what!?

your eyes widened at that. “simon that was seven months ago!” you were wondering why the hell he never said anything. “when you say you want me, what does that even mean?” you’re almost afraid to hear the answer. did simon just want sex? or did he want more? did you even want him to have more than just your pussy?

“want you to cum on my cock.” simon also wanted you to be his. he wanted to bury himself in your heart and in your pussy every day for the rest of his life, but he didn’t say it out loud. he didn’t want to spook you.

you let out a choked noise at the sight of him watching you while he palmed his cock through his sweatpants. “i think i’m about to pass out,” you told him, sounding a little hysterical. “and johnny? i don’t even—”

simon cut you off, “get in here, mactavish!”

when johnny entered the room, you demanded for both of them to explain themselves. your man was fine with sharing you with simon. he’d mentioned it to simon the day he sent him the video of you with a dildo buried in your pussy. they were both fine with it, they just hadn’t gotten around to asking you yet. once you gave them both an earful, you let them know that you were willing to try. but before that could happen, simon just had to mention the other video.

“let me see it, johnny.”

you shot johnny a panicked look after hearing simon’s demand, because you know he’s gonna end up doing whatever simon tells him to do. he always did. fucking assholes. you almost bust your ass trying to scramble off the bed to get to johnny. you wanted to wipe the smugness off his face, when he pulled his phone out and tossed it to simon, much to your dismay. they ignored your protests as simon located johnny’s camera roll. you watched helplessly as he told simon which video it was.

digging that hole and burying yourself in it sounded like a great idea in that moment, as the sounds of your moans filled the room. you could hear how wet you had been that day. you were absolutely mortified by the way you whimpered and moaned simon’s name like it had been his fingers fucking you and not your own.

simon let out a low, “fuckin’ hell,” before he launched the phone onto the bed and yanked you into his arms, so he could kiss you senseless. when he pulled back to let you breathe again, he had a look in his eyes that sent a shiver down your spine. “naughty girl. how long have you been thinkin’ about me while you fuck yourself? weeks? months?”

“si–simon, wait,” you managed to stutter out breathlessly while you tried to get your brain working again. you weren’t even sure you could do that, with the way simon was scraping his teeth against the sensitive skin on your neck.

simon paid you no mind. he was starting to become impatient. he tossed you onto the bed, with a wicked grin on his lips, then buried his nose right into the fabric of the shorts covering your bare pussy. you inhaled sharply when his large warm hands started tugging your clothes off, leaving you bare, while you watched him step away from the bed to get undressed. his honey brown eyes watched the way you sat there, mesmerized at the sight of his cock, a soft whine spilling from your lips when he started lazily stroking himself.

johnny laughed softly at the expression on your face, before raising a brow at simon. “givin’ us a show, LT?”

simon shot him an amused look, “camera, johnny.”

johnny grabbed his phone off the bed, muttering something about getting the best angles, while simon began to work two thick digits in and out of your glistening pussy.

“f-fuck,” you whimpered when those talented fingers danced across your spongy walls and brushed up against your g-spot. it felt like you were being tortured with how slow simon was working you over. you swore he was doing that shit on purpose. “you can’t go any faster than that?”

you let out a strangled cry when simon pinched your clit. you hissed when he barked out a laugh at the sight of you trying to clamp your thighs shut around his hands. simon was a mean asshole, and so was johnny for sitting right next to you with his stupid phone in his hand and a grin on his face while he recorded you getting bullied. you hated them both.

“open up, princess,” simon cooed, before gripping his cock and dragging it up and down your slick folds, making you moan each time his tip brushed up against your sensitive bud. “so wet f’me.”

“simon, please.” you wanted him to stop fucking around and start stuffing his fat cock in your hole. you’d start begging if you had to.

you were about to let him have it, when he finally slid his cock into your sopping wet pussy with a drawn out moan. he pulled back out slowly, then bullied his cock back in, silently enjoying the way your back arched up off the bed as a broken moan spilled from that pretty mouth of yours.

“oh, god,” you choked out. you felt so full, stuffed to the brim. you stared up at simon with a slightly dazed look and begged him to move.

simon hooked one of you legs over his shoulder and wasted no time driving his cock in and out of your drooling pussy. he chuckled darkly when you wailed and clawed at his back. when you told him to move, you didn’t mean like this. he was tearing your shit up and all you could do was take it as you babbled incoherent words that neither johnny nor simon could understand. every gasp, every moan you let out, only motivated simon to fuck you harder. he wanted to see you fall apart. you were always so composed when he was around, but now he had your pussy around his cock and your nails leaving scratch marks on his back, while you sang to the heavens.

the delicious glide of simon’s cock against your spongy walls was enough to make you cry. you couldn’t stop the tears that sprang to your eyes as you held onto simon for dear life. you wanted him to smother you. you wanted him to ruin you. “please, please, please,” you sobbed with every smack of his hips against yours.

“ye okay, hen?” johnny’s voice was laced with concern, but his eyes were full of hunger. you looked so fucking good with simon’s cock in you. he let out a hiss when he pressed his free hand against the bulge in his basketball shorts. “fuck.”

“she’s fine, just a little needy thing,” simon bit out with a snap of his hips while he looked down at you, a warm feeling blossoming in his chest at the cries of pleasure you emitted. “look at you being a good girl f’me, lettin’ me fuck this sweet pussy of yours. just takin’ my cock like you were made for it.”

“i–i–oh!” you let out a cry when your pussy started spasming around simon’s cock, as your orgasm took you by surprise.

you let out a yelp when simon pinched your nipple and leveled you with a glare. “i don’t remember telling you to cum, princess,” he said rudely.

you couldn’t string up a decent reply to placate the man. it was his fault for fucking you so good. he continued wreaking havoc on your pussy while you were coming down from your high, which was slowly going back up as his cock struck your g-spot repeatedly. your gasps and moans were like music to johnny ears. he loved the way you looked getting your pussy stretched out by his best friend. what a beautiful sight it was, you in a pleasure induced haze, mind completely empty of thoughts while simon fucked you six ways to sunday.

johnny’s hand slipped into the waistband of his shorts so he could free his cock. he was so fucking hard he thought he would die if he didn’t cum. he wrapped his hand around his cock and started thrusting his hips, moaning softly at the sight of simon’s cock pistoning in and out of you. the fact that simon hadn’t cum in your pussy yet was crazy to him.

“look at what you’re doing to johnny,” simon crooned as he reached out to grab your chin and turn your head towards johnny, whose eyes were glazed over while he fisted his leaking cock.

the noise you let out when you realized johnny’s eyes were on you, was absolutely filthy. you almost lost your damn mind when simon reached between both of you and started rubbing at your puffy clit. the sheer pleasure of being fucked and having that sensitive bundle of nerves be caressed by simon’s thick fingers, had you teetering on the brink of insanity. simon had you right where he wanted you, teary eyed and cock-drunk while you let out whine after whine, as he continued his assault on your clit.

“want you to cum for me again. think you can be a good girl and give me another one?” simon let out a moan when you nodded frantically and started babbling about about being his good girl.

hearing you call yourself simon’s good girl, sent johnny into a frenzy, his moans bouncing off the walls as he fisted his cock in sync with with the way simon was pounding you into the mattress. the phone lay on the bed, forgotten, while johnny gave into his need to cum. “ah, shit….fuck.” he was so close.

simon, always aware of his surroundings, even while he’s fucking you into oblivion, barked out an order for johnny to stop. he wanted him to cum in your mouth, and had strict orders for you to keep johnny’s cum in your mouth.

johnny let out a whine, but snapped his mouth shut when simon gave him a sharp look and told him to hurry up. your lover took his time feeding cock down your throat, before he cradled your head in his heads and started thrusting. his eyes slipped shut as pure bliss took over his facial expression. you let out a warbled moan around johnny’s cock at the sight of him lost in his pleasure.

“gonna let us take what we need, lovie?” simon cooed as he rocked into you, moaning when your pussy nearly choked him to death. he’d slowed down a bit, wanting to savor the moment of you coming undone with their cocks in your wet holes.

with johnny stuffed in your mouth, you couldn’t speak. the best you could do, was let out a broken moan while you drooled around the fat cock in your mouth. you let both men play tug of war with your body, until you couldn’t take it anymore as waves of pleasure crashed into you while you came, almost violently to johnny praising you for being his sweet bonnie girl, and simon’s filthy muttering about filling you up with his cum until it starts to leak out of your ears.

simon’s the next one to cum. he’s moaning and groaning in your ear like a whore, like he’s the one getting fucked into the mattress. he’s too pussy drunk to even notice you writhing underneath him as you cry out around johnny’s cock. your pussy is starting to become overstimulated, making you wish simon would cum already. and then finally, his hips start to stutter while he fucked frantically into your sloppy hole. “fuck, i’m gonna—” a broken sob left his lips as his cum painted your walls.

when he was finally able to breathe again, simon presses a kiss to your temple then rolled off of you, so he could watch johnny fuck your throat. you looked so pretty with your lips wrapped around his cock. “ease up, johnny. let her work for a bit.”

when johnny’s grip on your head lessened, you rolled over onto your stomach and gripped his cock in your hand, pulling off with wet a sound, spitting on it, then swirling your tongue around the tip.

“steamin’ jesus!” johnny choked out, when you had him fully engulfed in your mouth once more, head bobbing up and down as you took him deep in your throat.

johnny’s soft little ah, ah, ah, ahs made you speed up your movements, as you twisted your fingers around his wet length and slurped at the bulbous head of his cock. you teased and edged him for a bit, before he started getting annoyed. you shot him a look of amusement when he slapped your hands away from his cock.

“ye wanna play, bonnie?” he asked, his voice dangerously soft.

you’d almost forgotten about the times when johnny’s mean streak would slip out during sex, and unfortunately for you, this was one of those times. you didn’t even fight it when he pried your mouth open and shoved his cock back down your throat. he fucked your throat so hard it brought tears to your eyes. johnny cooed at you when a sob broke through.

“ye can take it, hen. thas’ what yer mouth was made for.”

you whined, but took it nonetheless. it’s not like you could move anyway with simon curled around you. his roaming hands had found their way between your sticky thighs. you could still feel his cum leaking out of your aching pussy. “you close, johnny?” you heard him ask while his fingers delivered lazy strokes to your sensitive clit. johnny moaned out his reply, just as simon’s soft, “be a good boy and cum for us, johnny,” filled his ears.

johnny came with a cry, his hips snapping forward as thick ropes of cum shot out of his cock and into your mouth. he sank down on the bed with his eyes closed murmuring something about that being the best head of his life.

“open up, let me taste our boy.”

you did as you were told, moaning when simon turned your head to him and shoved his tongue in your cum-filled mouth and drank from you. the kiss was sloppy and johnny’s cum was dribbling down your chin, while simon licked every crevice of your mouth. when he saw how empty your mouth was, he spit it in, then pressed a kiss to your lips. your eyes almost popped out of your head when he used his tongue to clean up stray drops of johnny’s cum from your chin. and you thought johnny was the only freak in your life.

simon was fucking nasty, and you loved it.

-

a/n: i will continue this eventually

[tired-teacher-blog]

Adult Bakugou is worlds apart from how he used to be as a teen.

His prominent scowl is now replaced with a more relaxed expression, and his tense shoulders are now a lot looser.

He is no longer on edge and wishing for everyone's demise, as his years of experience in the pro hero world have taught him patience and empathy.

He's had fan girls lining up for a chance to receive some kind of acknowledgement from him since his first years as a UA student, and it's been -for the longest time- something that further pissed him off and ruined his mood as he didn't need the added attention.

_ "I still cannot believe you're the same guy who yelled at me and stormed out when I first confessed my feelings, at that moment you were as bratty as you used to be when we were still in school." you murmured softly in remembrance, tracing the faint scar on his right cheek, the same one he acquired years ago during that ruthless war everyone still remembers to this day.

To you, he was that one annoying friend whom you had to sit down and listen to while he complained about the countless love letters clogging up his locker, so when the day came -not too long ago- that you shyly revealed your feelings for the man, his reaction was nothing short of expected.

_ "Huh? What brought this on all of a sudden?" he tilted his head to meet your gaze, blinking a few times as a hint of blush dusted the tips of his ears, "besides, I already told you I only reacted the way I did because I thought you were making fun of me."

_ "That's fair, but I'm glad you gave me a chance to explain myself.." you paused for a second to adjust your posture and straddle his slender waist instead of leaning against him like you had been moments before, a smile found its way to your lips as you carried on, "you've really come a long way from the brat you used to be."

His thin eyebrows raised in apparent surprise, but his firm grasp on your thighs remained unshaken, "I have?"

_ "You truly have." a giggle escaped you as you cradled his handsome face, leaning in to place a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth before pulling back to admire the mysterious smirk curving up his lips.

_ "Care to explain?" but he didn't really need the clarification, he is one of the most intelligent people you know, and is sure to have noticed the change occuring in himself without anyone spelling it out, but you still went along with his charade, just to please him.

_ "Well, let's see.." your gaze shifted and lips pursed as you tapped your chin in fake contemplation before continuing, "you're more tolerable now, I mean you're kinda tame and boring like a sweet grandpa, and also.."

_ "Hey come on," he interrupted your obvious trick with an amused chuckle and a playful smack on your butt, "well I still got the girl didn't I?"

_ "Yes you did."

His eyes gleamed hearing your words, and his arms slid up to surround your back and bring you closer to himself before groaning the demand you knew was coming, "kiss me then."

That was all it took for you to close the remaining distance between you two and claim his lips in a breathtaking lip lock.

[boltwrites]

Kitty

Fandom: Marvel; X-Men Pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine / Reader (Gender Neutral) Rating: M Tags: Suggestive, Logan's cat ear hair, Teasing

Synopsis: Sleep-addled and maybe a little horny, you ask Logan if he does his hair like that on purpose.

A/N: Fun fact about this one - you could replace reader with Deadpool and the fic would probably be the exact same (but probably with more stabbing). Enjoy! Also I almost titled it Kittyuuuuuhhhh but decided against it LMAO. Is this good? No. But I needed to expel it like some kind of demon. Anyway-

You made a soft pleased noise, arching your back as you stretched as far as you could under the thin sheet of your shared bed. Muscled warmed, you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, blinking blearily against the morning light that filtered in through the curtains.

You smiled - sleepy and sweet - as you propped yourself on your elbows to see the figure sat at the foot of your bed. Logan was already awake and halfway dressed, jeans hugging his hips as he leaned over to tug on his boots. Meanwhile, here you were - still in the oversized T-shirt you used as pajamas, your hair messy from sleep.

On that thought, your eyes drifted from where they had been admiring the taunt planes of his back, to Logan's own styled hair. He'd already brushed it, those little tufts that curled into what looked like tiny devil horns neatly defined in the soft morning light.

You frowned. Hmm, no, devil horns wasn't quite right. Not really.

You sat up, a hazy plan dancing through your mind as you crawled your way to the end of the bed. Logan glanced back at you - your heart flipped at the soft smile he offered you, making no effort to shy away from your touch.

"Hey, you don't have to get up because of me," he chided. You didn't listen - instead, you draped your arms around his warm shoulders, leaned in to pepper little kisses along his jaw, even if his beard caught most of them. You didn't mind how it tickled.

"But you're wearing my favorite outfit," you insisted, doing your best not to chuckle. You did like him in worn out jeans and no shirt. It looked good on him. Everything looked good on the man, though.

"I'm wearing half an outfit," he replied, turning just enough so that he could press a proper kiss to your lips. You sighed, pillowing your head on his shoulder as his lips met yours - lazy, gentle. Those weren't words you'd use to describe his kisses at any other time of day, really. This was special.

"I know," you replied, offering him a silly smile as you leaned against his shoulder, arm around his chest preventing him from dressing any further. He didn't seem to mind, though, as your free hand carefully carded your way through his hair - making sure not to displace any of his hard work.

"But something I don't know..." you continued, twirling a finger around the tip of one of the tufts. "Is why your hair ends up like this. Do you do it on purpose?"

"Do I do what on purpose?" he asked. It was laced with a chuckle, like he thought this was one of your half-awake musings. And, perhaps it was, in a way. You were, technically half-awake. But you weren't making things up. It was a real question that had crossed your mind on several separate occasions.

"You know-" you insisted, releasing that little bit of hair from your grasp. "The kitty ears."

"The what?"

He laughed it, pulled away from you if only to make sure you caught a glance of his expression - a mixture of shock and amusement that telegraphed to you that he still wasn't taking you seriously.

You rolled your eyes at him, removing your hand from around his shoulders to scratch along his scalp, up to that little tuft of curled hair. He closed his eyes, made a low rumbling noise in his throat that only seemed to further the illusion that he was really just some big cat in disguise.

"The kitty ears," you insisted, "do you or do you not purposefully style your hair so you have these little kitty ear things?"

You sat up on your knees, reaching both your hands up to curl in the tufts - tugging them just hard enough to make his eyes flutter open as he looked up at you.

"Cat ears," he deadpanned, doubt lacing his words. "You think my hair looks like cat ears."

"Kitty ears," you clarified, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head. "And you didn't answer my question, which means you absolutely do it on purpose."

"No-" Logan started, tone exasperated. But, unfortunately for him, he was already in too deep.

"Nope, sorry-" you laughed, sitting down behind him to wrap your arms around his bare chest, brushing through the downy hair there. "You're my little kitty now."

"Jesus Christ-" he groaned, rolling his eyes as you kissed his cheek. You made to kiss the corner of his lips next, but he turned his head ever so slightly, trying his best to quell the smile that was spreading. He'd just wanted you to pay attention as he insisted:

"I'm not a fucking cat."

"Why not?" you teased, kissing just under his ear with a little smile. "You've got the ears..."

You snaked a hand up to card through his hair again - making sure to rake your blunt nails along his scalp like you knew he loved. And, despite his dismissive tone, you caught his eyes fluttering closed, his lips parting ever so slightly.

"The claws..." you teased, punctuating each word with a new open-mouthed kiss to his neck - the last dotted with a touch of teeth that issued a sweet rumble from low in his throat.

"The fur-" your free hand slid down his chest - down the dips and curves of his defined abs, to tangle in the thicker hair that disappeared below the waistline of his jeans.

"And, I know how to make you purr," you chuckled, fingers dancing at the edge of his belt as your other hand weaved through one of those silly little kitty ears.

Logan wasn't immune to the way you touched him - when he laughed at your ridiculous comments, it was a bit breathless, even if he sounded absolutely exhausted with your antics.

"I have to get dressed," he insisted, his hand drawing over your own where you'd just started to wiggle your fingers under the tight denim. "And you're being ridiculous."

"Hmm," you hummed, nipping at the junction of his neck and shoulder. The muscles there jumped, tensed, then relaxed - and where he'd been grasping at your hand, your fingers briefly intertwined.

"If I remember correctly..." you pondered, nuzzling against his neck. "Kitties don't wear clothes."

"Oh, come on-" he groaned, laughing as he leaned back against your chest, his head pillowed on your shoulder. You grinned down at him. "How long are you gonna keep this shit up?"

"Until you're sick of it," you promised, kissing the corner of his mouth. He rolled his eyes. "Or, you take your pants off."

"We both know you'll keep saying it even if I take my pants off," he countered, his hold on your hand the only thing preventing you from inching your way into his pants.

"Touché. But -" you bargained. "I'd be distracted."

He laughed, loud and full, and your smile grew even more. That - that's what you really liked. When you could finally get some honest joy out of him. He looked so pretty when he smiled like that, even if it was brief. His hand squeezed over yours - soft, possessive, loving. That made your heart flutter even more than the thought of getting him undressed.

But he was right - you were never going to let him live this down.

[monzabee]

the smallest man who ever lived - cl16

masterlist || part 2 || part 3 ||

Summary: The one where you’re thrown into a conundrum when you learn the news of your husband, Charles’, infidelity.

Pairing: charles leclerc x wife!reader; carlos sainz x reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: angst, cheating, crying, manipulation(?), charles is an absolute asshole (but so is the reader) (but she’s kinda also badass?) (toxic relationship?), even more assholish carlos (gasp), blackmail, mention of pregnancy, mention of sex and sexual acts, physical confrontation (literally just pushing someone off but still)

Request: “Hey girl can I request something angsty with Charles? Maybe Charles cheating on Y/N (we’re already famous and have been married to Charles for years) and the fighting, the finding out, his guilt, angst, etc.”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! thank you to the anon who requested this because i had the time of my life working on it, and it might be the first fic i wrote in one go for the last six months or so!! also thank you to the getting cheated on playlists i found on spotify and amy dunne for giving me the inspiration to make the reader as toxic as i could. special thanks to @norrisleclercf1 and @percervall who had to listen to me talk about this fic NONSTOP. this is definitely something very different to what i usually write, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

There are moments in life where you feel like a complete and utter idiot. Although it could be for no apparent reason at all, there is a perfectly explainable reason why you feel like that right now, in the middle of your trailer on the set, with your manager and publicist both looking at you like you could explode at any given moment. It took you a good amount of time to wrap your head around the news, the news that wrecked you into a million of pieces which left you as the only person who can put them back together.  

“Let me get this straight,” you start, still trying to wrap your head around the news, “they were photographed leaving the club, and there’s a–?” 

“Sex tape, yes.” Your manager mumbles, earning himself a side-eye from your publicist. “It was so kindly attached to the email.”  

“And it is anonymous?” You ask, earning curt nods from both. “Well,” you manage to get out, pressing your lips together not to let out a sob, or a laugh, both? “That is very ambitious of him.” 

Your publicist shares a concerned look with your manager, then turns to you, “I guess so? How would you want us to handle this? I can buy us some time until these are released to public, but I think getting a statement ready just in case is essential given the fact that both of you are public figues. We can say that you’ll attend marriage councelling–” 

Your loud laugter cuts her off in the middle of her sentence. “And just why would we do that?” 

“I–” She gives you another concerned look as she softens her voice, which is quite uncharacteristic for her, you realise. “How would you want us to approach it then?” 

“I don’t want you to approach it at all.” You voice cuts through the tension, your gaze fixed on her. “I’ll handle it.”  

“But Charles–” She tries to reason, but you cut her off again.  

“Decided to get his dick wet where it certainly didn’t belong, he’s a big boy – he’ll survive.” Fixing her with a final look, you turn to your manager instead. “I don’t want this going to Charles or his team’s ears, that’s what the email said, and we should honour it, no?”  

His expression turns into a smirk, matching the one playing on your lips as he nods in thougt, “Would you like us to do anything else? We can talk with the production if you need a couple of days to… well, recuperate. Greta would understand.” 

“No.” Your answer is final as you shake your head. “She thinks this is an Oscar worthy project, I’m not throwing it away because my husband decided to think with his dick and not his brain. Just call my lawyers and tell them to be on stand by.” 

“Should I also book you tickets to Monaco still?” He asks in a monotone tone. 

“Well of course,” you reply in a sweet voice, widening your eyes for dramatic effect, “it’s a family event.” 

Your publicist eyes the both of you, “Okay,” as she drags the word out, “are you sure you don’t want to take a couple of days off?” 

“Positive. I have an EGOT to win.” Raising the script you have in your hands in the air, you announce, “I have lines I need to go over, is that all?”  

And as they leave your trailer to give you some space to ‘go over your lines’, you let a few tears escape your eyes, promising yourself that you would make Charles feel a thousand worse what he made you feel in the moment. 

It is not surprising or a sudden revelation that Monte Carlo has good weather all year around. But as it happens with the last few weeks following you learning about your husband’s infidelity, all you feel is cold – and no amount of warm weather is enough to make your heart feel warmer again. As you stand at the terrace of Café de Paris, overlooking the cityscape of Monte Carlo, all you can think about is how you just want to get this part of you plan over with as fast as possible.  

“Chérie!” The voice you hear makes a lump perpetually situate itself in the middle of your throat, but you brace yourself for the worst as you turn on your heels to face the person you’re most scared of facing in this whole situation. “Look at you, you look incroyable! You had me scared when you told me you were catching the redeye, and that we just had to talk!” 

“Pascale,” you breathe out as the woman pulls you into her arms with the warmness of any mother would do, and for that brief moment, you feel better than you have in weeks. “It’s so nice to see you again,” giving her the warmest smile you can muster up in the circumstances as you pull back, fixing your gaze at the figure behind her as you nod your head in acknowledgement, “Arthur.” 

“Maman is right,” Arthur says as he opens his arms, “you do look good.”  

“Well, thank you.” You reply as you give him a quick hug, and motion the table as you pull back. “Shall we?” Call it common curtesy, or cowardice, the fact that you don’t directly get to the point. Either way, you talk about what you’ve missed in the couple of months in which you’ve been away filming. You’re not necessarily paying attention, though the endtail of Pascale’s sentence catch your attention. “Excuse me, can you repeat that?” 

“Well, I was just telling how sad I was that Charles doesn’t come home as often this season. Though I understand he’s coming out to see you on set, distance can be so hard even for–” 

“He’s not coming out to see me, Pascale.” You voice is softer, and appears more broken than you would want it to be, but your words convey the message enough. It takes you a couple of moments to organise your thoughts, and Arthur calling out your name, to get you back into the moment. “There’s something I need to talk with the both of you, something I’ve already talked with Lorenzo, but I thought it would be better for you to hear it from me.”  

“Okay?” Arthur mumbles, then gives you a supportive smile, “You can tell us anything. Though don’t tell me I’m about to be an uncle because I don’t think my ego can take it at the–” 

You attempt to swallow the lump in your throat as you direct your words to the woman sitting across from you. “I’m divorcing your son, and I thought you should hear it from me and not him.”  

It takes a few minutes for both Pascale and Arthur to say something, and it concerns you that you somehow managed to give your mother in law a brain aneurism, but eventually, she manages to get out, “What? How? Why? Are you okay?”  

“I’m… fine.” You reply, albeit it comes off calculated. “I found a couple of weeks ago that he was cheating on me, I’ve came back to give him the papers myself.”  

“He what?” Arthur exclaims, then realises the level of his voice, and lowers it down as he asks, “Are you sure this is not a misunderstanding? The guy has been in love with you for over a decade, he wouldn’t do this.” With a resigning sigh, you find what you’re looking for in your phone and hand it over to Arthur. Who then, upon seeing what you have pulled up, immediately hands it back to you and turns to his mother, “Trust me you don’t want to see it.” 

“I’ve came to tell you the news, and well, to apologise.” You turn to face Pascale again.  

“Apologise?” She repeats, “Why on earth would you apologise to me when my son cheated on you?” 

“You’ve been nothing but kind to me ever since we’ve met, both of you.” You acknowledge Arthur with a look, and then focus your attention back on the woman, “Though I will make sure you don’t get caught in the crossfire in any way, I wanted to apologise for what I’m about to put your son through.”  

You honestly don’t know how you manage to act as if everything has been going fine in your life during race day. Given the fact that your husband doesn’t expect you to be at his race due to your rigorous filming schedule, and his family members being willing to hide your existence from him, you have no obstacles in your way to carry out the rest of your plan in motion. Which is exactly why you’re sat in the dark, waiting for your husband to walk through the doors of your apartment overlooking the city. With you seemingly being absent for the weekend, he has no reason to not believe that he is coming to an empty house.  

So, imagine his surprise when he enters his home; with his girlfriend in his arm, no less, and sees his wife sitting on the couch with her legs crossed and a drink in her hand. The look on his face is priceless, and despite all the pain and frustration you’re feeling, it manages to bring you some semblance of joy, knowing that it’s going to hurt him just as much as it hurt you.  

“Ma chérie,” Charles stammers, eye wide as he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights, “I – I didn’t know y–you were coming back this weekend.” 

“Well obviously,” you scoff, taking a generous sip from the drink in the glass tumbler in your hand, “otherwise you wouldn’t bring your little girlfriend into my house to fuck her.” You hear a gasp from the scaredy brunette wedging herself closer to your husband’s side, and for the first time you take a good look at her – young, much younger than you, tall, leggy; all the telltale signs that she is exactly your husband’s type. Tilting your head to the side, you rest the glass on the arm of the armchair you’re sitting in, “If you could leave now, I would greatly appreciate it.”  

You hear Charles whisper something in her ear, probably telling her to leave and that he’ll contact her tomorrow, and watch as she gives him a scowl, screeching, “You’re just going to let her throw me out?” 

“Well, considering the fact that this is my house, yes.” You give her a look of pity, watching her face light up with anger.  

“Listen to me, you bitch–” She starts, but your husband quickly cuts her off.  

“Mon cœur!” He exclaims, “S'il te plaît!” 

“Yes, listen to him, like a good little girl,” you egg her on, a smirk widening on your lips as you start swinging the leg resting on your lower one, choosing to focus on your nails instead of your husband trying to soothe his lover. 

You hear her scoff, take a few steps as her heels click on the marble floor of the entrance, “I wouldn’t be so calm if I were you, I’m not someone you want to be on bad terms with, considering the fact that he’s going to leave you for me!” 

“Oh, honey,” you coo, focusing your attention back on her and seeing the look of concern in your husband’s face through the corner of your eye, “and when did he tell you that, like a year ago? Two? Three?” A realisation dawns on her face as the smug expression starts to fade. “Don’t worry, though, you can have him when I’m done with him.” Pushing yourself off the armchair, you down the rest of the drink in the glass before slamming it down onto the glass coffee table. “And not only do I not care if you think I'm a bitch, but I hugely prefer it. Now get the fuck out of my house before I call security and get your ass thrown out.”  

You watch as she looks at Charles with indignation, lets out another screeching sound and slams the door behind her as she stomps out of your apartment. Only then you turn your gaze back to your husband, who has the guts to look at you with a worried look on his face. “How long have you known?” Is the first thing he asks you, taking a few steps closer.  

“A couple of weeks, a month, maybe?” You answer him, leaving your place to get to the small bar in the corner of your living room to get another refill of your drink. “There’s a video of the two, it somehow got into my hands, and it has very graphic details of the two of you having sex.” Popping a lemon into your cup, you make your way back to the armchair and sit down, “Are you stupid enough to cheat on me and make a fucking sex tape, Charles?” 

“I-I didn’t mean to–” He tries to plead, but you cut him off with a shake of your head.  

“You didn’t mean to what?” You ask him; your voice soothing, almost understanding, and it does the job of fooling him. “Cheat on me? Fuck another woman in my bed? Break the vows you’ve made?”  

“Ma chérie,” he whispers, “please.” 

“No.” Your voice is colder all of a sudden. “Tell me how long this has been going on for. Was I right? How many years?” 

“It started five years ago,” his voice is soft, somber and he tries to appear as genuine as he can in the situation, you suppose, “but I knew her, from before...” 

“Before what?” You’re seething now, the complete opposite of his calmness, “Did you fucking cheat me when we were dating, Charles?” 

“Ma chérie,” he gives you another pleading look, “please, I can change. I’ll go to therapy.”  

Now that, manages to get a bark of laughter from you. It’s ripped from the back of your throat, making you throw your head back as you lose yourself in the laughter to the point that there are tears in your eyes when you finally manage to calm yourself down. Putting the glass down on the coffee table once again, you wipe them off, mindful of your mascara, as you shift your attention back onto your husband. “Are fucking kidding me right now?” He gives you a concerned look, hands on his hips as he opens his mouth to answer you, but you quickly shut him down again. “You were bringing her into my house to fuck her, I caught you, I have your fucking sex tape – which is going to be streamlined for the world to see within twenty-four hours, do you honestly think I would go back to you?”  

“Wait, what?” He exclaims, looking at you with wide eyes and a shocked expression. “What do you mean they are going to streamline it, why didn’t you go to the lawyers? 

“I did go to the lawyers,” you shrug, innocently, “my lawyers,” you point out. “Why would I cover up your mistakes after everything you’ve done?” 

“Because I’m your fucking husband!” He barks, his arms widening to his sides as he finally loses his mask and his composure.  

His little tantrum only makes you let out another laugh, “Now, you’re my husband? Not when you’re cheating on me when I’m away shooting, but when you need me to clean up after your mistakes?” 

“How did you even get the video?” He asks, eyes narrowing down, “Who- who– who?” 

“Who? Who? Hoo? What are you, a fucking owl?” You exclaim, this time raising your voice. “You’re honestly more concerned about where I got it and not about the fact that the entire world is about to see you fucking someone other than your wife?” 

“What are we doing to do?” He asks, “Fuck, I have a race tomorrow.” 

“We’re not going to do anything.” You shrug, leaning forward to grab the glass and take another sip, “Or scratch that, we’re actually going to do something.” You stand up from the armchair, walk towards the table and hand him the file. “Congratulations, we’re getting a divorce.” 

“That is not happening.” He scoffs, not even bothering to look at the papers.  

“I don’t think you’re in the position to bargain with me, Charles.” You seethe, “You’re going to sign the damn papers, and you’re also going to sign away your rights to the baby.”  

“What the–?” He looks at you in disbelief, “You’re pregnant?” 

“Congratulations, it’s a boy.” You bite out, “Like you wanted.” 

“You’ve been drinking the entire night.” He points to the glass, “Do you expect me to believe you’re pregnant?” 

Offering him a sweet smile you hand him the glass, tipping it towards him, “It’s soda water, would you like a sip?” 

“Don’t make me do this,” he pleads, “give me another chance.” 

“I would’ve, if you were honest with me from the start.” You resign, a sincere look in your eyes. “I’ll give you a choice: us, or her.”  

He rears back with the offer, looking at you in disbelief. “What?” 

“You either choose me and the baby or you choose to be with her, and in that case, I will never let you near my baby, Charles.” You shake your head, wrapping your arms around your stomach protectively.  

For a second, his eyes linger around your stomach.   But you know his choice when he meets your eyes again.  

“What have we done to each other?” He whispers, and you can barely see the tears in his eyes.  

“We didn’t do anything, Charles. I gave up everything for you, but you just took me for granted.” Walking back to the dining table, you grab your coat and bag, and when you come face to face with him again, your voice is soft despite all the anger you still feel towards him. “You, Charles Leclerc, are truly the smallest man who ever lived.”  

The hotel lobby is calm and empty as you sit at the bar, and it’s surprising when you consider that fact that it is the weekend of the Monaco Grand Prix, meaning that there must be hundreds and thousands of motorsports fans visiting. Not that you’re complaining about the silence, of course. After the night you’ve had, silence and calmness are all you could ask for.  

“I’ll get a whiskey, please, whatever top shelf stuff you’ve got.” A voice cuts through the moment you are having, and you instantly recognise the distinct accent of the stranger sitting next to you. “Thought you were in the States, finishing off filming.” This time, the comment is directed to you, and you roll your eyes as you push the empty glass towards the bartender on duty.  

With a sigh, you turn to the man on your right, “What do you want, Carlos?” Your voice conveys your lack of energy, and Carlos is not dumb enough not to notice the dark circles under your eyes beneath your makeup.  

“I came to check on you.” Is his answer. Simple, curt and to the point. You’d certainly appreciate it more if you had the patience for his antics.  

“Well, you did, have a good night.” Slamming down a hundred-Euro bill onto the counter, you make a move to get up from your place, but a gentle hand on your wrist stops you. “Let me go.”  

Though there is no venom to your voice, Carlos knows that it is not the time, nor the place, to test your patience. “I’m sorry,” he starts and when you take a good look at him, you can tell that he’s being sincere, “I really did want to check up on you, and considering the fact that you have a perfectly good penthouse but instead in a hotel, I think I was right to do so.”  

Crossing your arms across your chest as you get back onto the barstool with a huff, you glare at him lightheartedly, “I didn’t want to stay in the same house as him,” raising your eyebrows, you continue with a lower voice, “thanks to chilisade5594@gmail.com, but I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.” The way his cheeks redden under the dim lights of the lobby bar would make you chuckle under normal circumstances, but you push the thought aside, “Honestly, what were you thinking? You’re lucky it was me who realised it was you, if it was my agent or publicist, we’d have another scandal to deal with.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he brushes you off with a swat of his hand, “I’m sorry I put you into that position.” 

“Don’t be,” you mumble, tilting your head to the side, “I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t sent me the video. Just tell me why you did it.” 

“What?” He turns you with a confused look on his face.  

“Why, Carlos?” You ask, voice encouraging yet soft, “Why did you send it? Why now?” 

He keeps quiet for a while, not answering your questions but not taking his gaze off you either. Eventually, he exhales a deep sigh as he gives you a sheepish shrug, “I didn’t like the way he treated you. And I didn’t want to make you worry about it without concrete proof, so I guess everything just... worked out.”  

“Huh,” you let out a small hum in agreement, “I guess you’re right.”  

Expecting more than the words you chose to answer him with, he raises an eyebrow as he takes a big gulp of whiskey from his glass. “That’s it?” 

“Well, what more is it there to say?” You ask, sheepishly shrugging. “We’re getting a divorce; he’s going to move out and I’m gonna make sure the entire world knows just why.” 

Carlos flags down the bartender as he mumbles, “I feel like you need a stronger drink if we’re going to talk about your impending divorce, cariño.” 

Taking a deep breath and exhaling an even deeper sigh, you shake your head. “I can’t.” Thank God Carlos is one of the people who is the proud owner of a braincell around you, because he catches your insinuation quickly.  

With widened eyes, he quickly turns towards you, eyes softening as you offer him a sad smile. “Dios mío,” he murmurs, eyes running over you worriedly, “are you okay?” 

“Well... no.” You let out an unexpected laugh at his expression, patting him on the shoulder lightheartedly. “I’ll be fine, Carlos, I’m a big girl. I can handle this.” 

“I know you will,” he assures you, “but does Charles know?” 

Now that manages to bring a grimace to your face. “He signed his parental rights away along with the divorce papers.” The look he gives you after hearing your words has you worried that his eyes are going to pop out of their sockets, but you try to calm him down as best as you can. “Carlos, it’s fine.” 

“It’s most certainly not!” He exclaims, his voice echoing in the almost empty hotel lobby. “Is he out of his mind?”  

You give him an awkward smile and another shrug of your shoulders. "I... feel like whatever I’m going to say is going to be wrong. So... yes?”

“Cariño,” he says, exasperated, “how are you so normal about this?” 

“Lots of women raise their kids as single mothers while working, Carlos.” Your expression quickly taking the form of a frown, “I can handle this, I don’t need Charles or anyone else to hold my hand and tell me I’m doing such a good job.” 

“I know you can do this alone, tonta,” he rolls his eyes as the endearment making you roll your eyes, “but you’re not going to be alone. Because I’m here.” There’s a certain finality to his words. And just as you’re about to object to his words, he quickly shuts you down. “I know you can do this on your own, but you don’t have to, okay? I’m going to be with you every step of the way.”  

“What if I need waffles in the middle of the night?” You ask, your eyebrow raised in a skeptical way.  

“I’ll adjust my pancake recipe.” His reply his immediate, and he shrugs lightly as he adds, “Pancakes are better, anyway.”  

Rolling your eyes you continue, “What if I need someone to hold my hand in the delivery room? It can get quite gruesome, you know?” 

He provides you with another nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “I’ve never really been affected by it.”  

“Okay, this is ridiculous, Carlos!” You exclaim, pushing yourself off your seat as you turn your body to face him. “I don’t need you to bail me out, I don’t need your help!” 

“I know you don’t,” he nods.  

“I am capable of doing this on my own!” You shriek, and the fact that your face is starting to get progressively redder worries Carlos.  

“I know you are, but–” he tries to reason.  

“No buts! I’m going to be a good mother, okay?” You point an accusatory finger towards him. “I’m going to choose him!” 

The way your voice breaks at the end of your sentence has Carlos instinctively pull you into his arms, which is not that hard given the fact that you are almost the same height as him as you stand in front of the bar stool he’s sitting on, and he doesn’t say a word as you sob into his chest – letting out all the emotion you’ve bottled up over the past few weeks, no less. He doesn’t you offer you empty promises or tries to soothe you with cliché phrases. Instead, he stands still, holding you between his arms as you sob continuously into his chest. Giving the bar tender an awkward smile over your shoulder, he hands him his card to close out your tabs.  

He only starts talking again once you’ve pulled away and trying to wipe the remnants of your tears from under your eyes. “Do you feel better now?” He asks, handing you a napkin.  

“Yeah,” you mumble, sniffing as you play with the corners of the napkin. Then, you flip your eyes toward his, and fix him with a glare. “You are not becoming my kid’s stepdad.” 

“Of course not, cariño,” he assures you, “I’ll be the dad that stepped up instead.” 

You let out a teary chuckle as you slap him lightly on his chest. “I’m serious, Carlos.” 

“So am I.” He replies softly, and you can see the genuine look on his face. “You’re not alone anymore, I’m choosing you.” Tentatively, he presses his hand softly against your stomach as he maintains your gaze. “Both of you.” 

And though the last thing you want is a promise, this one seems like a real one. So, you let yourself believe that he might just keep it up. 

[xvysarene]

𝔹𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕎𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟

Pairing: LADS Men (All 5) x Fem!Reader Prompt: The moment they realise they want to spend their whole life with you Words: ~1.3k || 200-300 per LI Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Established relationship A/N: Highly recommend giving Urban Zakapa's "Nearness is to love" a listen to capture the mood! I need to be love like this smh

[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]

⊱ 𝕏𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕖𝕣

Xavier has always wondered why he willingly abandons a good slumber and ignores the sting and soreness in his body just to see your face after every challenging mission.

“𝐷𝘰 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝘵 𝑚𝑒 𝘵𝘰 𝑐𝘰𝘰𝑘 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑠𝘰𝑚𝑒𝘵ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑙𝑠𝑒?”

The lines of concern etched on your forehead deepen when he hasn't touched the porridge, all white swiftly checking to ensure you haven’t missed tending to any of his injuries.

He realises then, that you opening the door after the first knock, with a home-cooked meal waiting for him even before the first rays of dawn, is why he always seeks you out first.

This is the person he wants to witness a lifetime of sunrises with, the one he never wants to see weighed down by worry due to his line of work.

Words fail him, so he gathers you in his arms. Revelling in the way your body moulds perfectly against his.

“𝐼 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝘵 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑐𝑙𝘰𝑠𝑒.”

“𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙,” you chide softly, eyes flicking up to meet his.

The concern in your gaze tugs at something deep within him.

Xavier now understands what it is to be unconditionally loved—to be so genuinely cared for that someone would worry about his well-being above all else.

“𝐼 𝑝𝑟𝘰𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝘵𝘰 𝑏𝑒 𝑚𝘰𝑟𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑖𝑓 𝑖𝘵 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛 ℎ𝘰𝑙𝑑 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝘵ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝜈𝑒𝑟𝑦𝘵𝑖𝑚𝑒.”

Your eyes soften. “𝑌𝘰𝑢 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑦, 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑑𝘰𝑛'𝘵 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝘰𝑛 𝘵𝘰 ℎ𝘰𝑙𝑑 𝑚𝑒.”

The sensation of your fingers threading through his hair is pure heaven, and as you hold him tighter, you express that this embrace requires no further validation.

⊱ ℝ𝕒𝕗𝕒𝕪𝕖𝕝

Bathed in hues of molten gold and fiery amber, Rafayel watches you set up the dining table with his aunt and Thomas, a scene he will cherish until his very last breath.

The laughter of his favourite people mingling with the rhythmic crash of waves is music to his ears.

“𝑅𝑎𝑓, 𝑑𝘰𝑛'𝘵 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝘵 𝑠𝘵𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝘵ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒,” you call out. Tucking your hair behind your ear as the salty breeze whips strands across your face.

If only he could immortalise this scene on canvas, Rafayel muses.

But he knows that a painting would never do justice to fully conveying the true essence of this beauty.

“𝛭𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝘰𝜈𝑒𝑑, 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝐼 𝑠𝘵𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑓𝘰𝑟 𝑎 𝑚𝘰𝑚𝑒𝑛𝘵?” The quiver in his voice doesn’t go amiss by anyone’s notice as he approaches.

Thomas quirks a questioning brow, while his aunt's gaze softens, her smile somehow knowing as she glances between the two of you.

Normally, he would have a response ready as Thomas quips about the champagne warming, but not this time. 

Not when everything else other than you fades into insignificance.

Overwhelmed with emotion, he pulls you in a tight hug as soon as you both are away from prying eyes, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“𝑇𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑒,” his voice barely above a whisper, “ℎ𝘰𝑤 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝐼 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑓𝘰𝑟 𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓, 𝑓𝘰𝑟𝑒𝜈𝑒𝑟?”

You gently draw back and hold his cheeks, adoring the crimson spreading onto his face and ears, before murmuring tenderly against his lips, “𝑌𝘰𝑢 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 ℎ𝑎𝜈𝑒.”

At that very moment, it feels as though his heart might combust.

As if every whispered longing he's ever had has come true.

⊱ ℤ𝕒𝕪𝕟𝕖

Perplexed is what Zayne always imagined he would feel—wishing to spend the rest of his life with someone is a huge commitment after all.

But now, his heart overflows with nothing but contentment and peace.

With his glasses and book perch on his lap, he attentively listens as you animatedly vent about one of your coworkers, sitting cross-legged beside him on the bed.

“...𝐼'𝑚 𝑠𝘰𝑟𝑟𝑦, 𝐼 𝑠ℎ𝘰𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝘵 ℎ𝑎𝜈𝑒 𝑟𝑎𝑚𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝘰𝑛. 𝑌𝘰𝑢 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝘵 𝑏𝑒 𝘵𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝘵𝘰𝑑𝑎𝑦.”

Zayne frowns, cursing himself as you mistaken his prolonged silence and composed demeanour for indifference.

Setting his stuff aside, he draws you closer, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead as your arms circle around him.

“𝐿𝘰𝜈𝑒, 𝐼 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑒𝑛𝑗𝘰𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝘵𝑎𝑙𝑘. 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝜈𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝘵𝘰𝑝 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝘰𝑢𝑟 𝘵ℎ𝘰𝑢𝑔ℎ𝘵𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝘵ℎ 𝑚𝑒.” 

A small content sigh leaves his lips as you nestle closer to him, the warmth of your embrace seeping into his very soul.

Long fingers gently stroke your hair as you voice out concern about adding to his mounting stress with your words.

“𝑌𝘰𝑢 𝑐𝘰𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑛𝑒𝜈𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒 𝑎 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑛,” he murmurs, lips brushing your temple. “𝑌𝘰𝑢𝑟 𝜈𝘰𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝘵 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑎𝘵 ℎ𝘰𝑚𝑒. 𝑌𝘰𝑢 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑒𝜈𝑒𝑟𝑦𝘵ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑒𝘵𝘵𝑒𝑟, 𝑑𝘰𝑛'𝘵 𝑒𝜈𝑒𝑟 𝘵ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝘰𝘵ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑤𝑖𝑠𝑒.”

Sometimes he wonders if he truly deserves the depth of love and understanding you provide, a treasure more valuable than any he has ever known.

He is not an easy man to love, yet you wholeheartedly embrace his complexities.

In that quiet moment, with the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtain, he knows with certainty that you occupy a space in his life that no one else can fill.

⊱ 𝕊𝕪𝕝𝕦𝕤

“𝑌𝘰𝑢 𝑎𝑏𝑠𝘰𝑙𝑢𝘵𝑒 𝑏𝑢𝑓𝑓𝘰𝘰𝑛!” your voice trembles with fury as you cock your gun at him. “𝑊ℎ𝘰 𝑖𝑛 𝘵ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝘵 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝘰𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑘 𝑖𝑛𝘵𝘰 𝑎 𝘵𝑟𝑎𝑝 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑦? 𝑌𝘰𝑢 𝑐𝘰𝑢𝑙𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝜈𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑒𝑑!”

Despite having just slain dozens of degenerates and currently staring down the barrel of your gun, Sylus’s head is oddly silent.

The sight of his enemies’ blood staining your clothes, your hair tousling messily from its ponytail, and the blazing intensity in your eyes—every detail captivates him completely.

Fuck him, you’re perfect.

Exasperated by his grin, you continue calling him all the names in the book: reckless idiot, brainless fool, dumbass…

But he’s your idiot.

Sylus watches your eyes widen as he closes the distance between you, your mouth opening to protest, “𝐷𝘰𝑛’𝘵 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑘𝑖—” but before you can finish, he discards your gun aside with alarming speed, lips crashing against yours with a fervour that matches your fury.

It’s not a gentle kiss, it’s an explosion of emotions; a release of all the anger, fear, and love that has been building up.

“𝐼’𝑚 𝑠𝘰𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑓𝘰𝑟 𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝘰𝑢,” he says breathlessly, resting his forehead against yours.

Strong hands pull you closer, and he smiles, sensing your fury starting to dissipate as you melt into his cocoon. “𝛢𝑠 𝑙𝘰𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑠 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝜈𝑒 𝑦𝘰𝑢, 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝘵ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝘵, 𝑛𝘰 𝘰𝑛𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝘵𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑒—𝑢𝑠—𝑑𝘰𝑤𝑛 𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑦.”

When you respond to him with another creative jibe, calling him a “𝘵ℎ𝑖𝑐𝑘-ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝘰𝑎𝑓”, his deep laughter booms through the room.

No one else can and will challenge him like you do, and he lives for it.

Caught in the back-and-forth of your wit and spirit, craving the spark you kindle within him with every word.

⊱ ℂ𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕓

“𝐶𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑏!”

The moment your wide smile graces your features upon spotting him down the store aisle, it robs out all the oxygen in his lungs.

Caleb has always known that this relationship is different from his past ones—the thought of seeing you in his future teasing his brain occasionally.

But when you skip to him, with excitement dancing in your eyes, it hits him that he will give everything just to witness that radiance again.

Every day for the rest of his life.

“𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒!” You slip your hand into his and intertwine your fingers together. “𝐼 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝘰𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝘵ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝘵𝑒𝑚 𝘵ℎ𝑒𝑦’𝜈𝑒 ����𝑢𝘵 𝑢𝑝 𝑠𝘰 ℎ𝑖𝑔ℎ.”

He’ll let you lead him to whichever section of the market, and he'll damn well help you get whatever you want, even if it’s questionable whether you need it or not.

Another mini planter for your succulents? Sure, he’ll even buy all of the different designs for you.

When you ask him if he’s alright, noticing his dazed expression, he straight up pulls you into his embrace and kisses the top of your head, murmuring, “𝐼 ℎ𝘰𝑝𝑒 𝑦𝘰𝑢’𝑙𝑙 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑎𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑒 𝘵𝘰 𝑔𝑒𝘵 𝘵ℎ𝘰𝑠𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑖𝘵𝑒𝑚𝑠.”

If he is misty-eyed amidst the bustling grocery store, it doesn’t concern him in the least.

You smile up at him in confusion, noticing the sentimental mood in his eyes. Standing on tiptoes, you give him a quick peck and melt in the warmth of his arms, feeling the beat of his heart against your cheek.

No other place feels as secure and comforting as being in each other’s arms.

[oreo-creampie]

𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐝𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: pure intense fluff, kissing, cuddling, squeezing, handsy pouty bastard, insisting you’ve been neglecting him, his is dying and it’s all your fault, how dare you do this to him, he will hold you accountable for your heinous crimes by cuddling you, toji is going soft for you, established relationship

Standing in front of your vanity, slipping your earrings off, sticking them with the rest. Glancing into your vanity mirror when Toji emerges from the bathroom.

Arms crossed over his bare pecs sticking his bottom lip out in his adorable pout. It’s one of your favorite Toji expressions. He huffs, “Finally someone figures where they live.”

He unzips the back of your dress. “You weren’t here!” kissing your shoulder. Slipping it down your body, trailing gentle sloppy kisses down your back. “The house was so empty and cold, I was dying of loneliness little mama.”

Stepping out of your dress, he tossing it into the hamper beside the bedroom door. “Is it even a home without you there?” His warm fingers brushing against your back unclasping your bra, gliding the straps off your shoulders. His touch comforting.

You insist, “Without you this place is just some walls.” Grabbing his hands, kissing his warm palms. Glancing into the mirror, Toji “It’s also not my fault you showed up two days early. Couldn't rush a planned girl’s night for your needy ass.” Turning around sliding your hand over his thick pecs, broad shoulder and into his soft dark hair.

“Im only needy when it comes you to mama. You’re so cruel neglecting me.” Grabbing your ass, lifting you up. Wrapping your legs around his slim waist.

“We aren't leaving for the weekend. Tired of seeing everyone’s ugly ass faces and hearing their annoying ass voices.” He kisses the top of your head. “Just need to spend some time with you mama.” Wrapping his arms around your waist, squeezing your tightly.

Wheezing, “I'm all your’s Teddy Bear!” Your back pops several times. Gasping for sweet air when he loosens his gasp.

“Damn right you are.” Kissing along Toji’s jawline, softly biting his pouty bottom lip, melting into his gentle kiss.“It’s not fair mama I can't squeeze you like I want to.” Carrying you through the hallway, towards the living room. “Get good mama, lemme squeeze you tighter.”

“Nah Teddy Bear that’s a you problem.” Squeezing Toji’s slim waist with your legs, tightening your grasp around Toji’s neck. “I can hug you as tight as I want. Ha-ha-haha!” Ripping you off him and throwing you onto the sofa.

“Imma make it your problem little mama.” Carefully falling on top of you, pinning your body with his weight. Resting his head on your chest. “Hahah! Looks whose trapped now! I’m not letting you go anywhere beautiful.”

Pushing himself up, and leaning in for a kiss. “All mine.” Parting your lips, the gentle hunger of his passionate kiss replacing your need for air. Slipping your fingers through his soft dark hair.

When he pulls away, covering your face with kisses. You grin widelyz “I missed ya so much teddy bear, I’m all your’s for the rest of the week. I’ll make sure you get sick of me.” Giving your forehead another gentle kiss, squeezing your hips.

It’s comforting having his heavy weight pressing you into the bed. His large strong hands on your body making you feel so safe and protected. His gentle kisses and words ensuring you know how cherished you are.

His cheeks turn pink, spreading across the bridge of his nose, coloring the tips of his ears. “I can never get enough of you.” His eyes widen. “Listen to me, ya made me all mushy, gonna have to hold you responsible. Hmm how should I do that.”

Oreo creampie’s m.list

Satoru’s verison!