#Two months three days and seven hours.

[patronsaint-ofthedenial]

Inspired by the Beatles hit Eight Days A Week I bring you. Three Hundred And Sixty Seven Days A Leap Year

[camscendants]

I FINISHED READING HARROW

[stairset]

Finally quit my job today cause my boss is a sack of shit

[words-writ-in-starlight]

if my parents lived eight hours away i would see them once a year for christmas and mayyybe for a summer vacation where everyone meets in a town halfway because eight hours is Far Away

H A anon my dude, I used to live in Montana, specifically very rural Montana, specifically a part of Montana where we did not have grocery stores and where the (shorter) high-altitude roads snowed closed for about eight months out of the year, meaning that we made an eight hour drive one way, for groceries, monthly.

Like, I don't see my parents that often, because I personally can't drive eight hours due to joint issues and am beholden to someone else being able to drive me, but I only consider something a prohibitively long drive if it hits double digits.

[lepus-arcticus]

..

[bondsmagii]

yall being excited for winter in may is to people with seasonal depression what back to school sales in june are to high school kids 

[morwap]

𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺, 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

brothers best friend!fwb!theodore nott x fem!reader

smut muggle au!, modern au!

nav • t.n m.list

dom!theo nott, sub!reader, b/n = brothers name, protected sex, p in v, fwb!harry potter x reader mention, mention of sending/receiving nudes, jealousy, lowkey toxic, fingering, handjob, oral f! and m! receiving, light praise and degradation, name calling, use of the word cunt, clit slapping, there’s a safe word in place,

───────✧ 𓆩♡𓆪 ✧───────

your brothers friends were off limits, you knew that, and that’s why you were currently ignoring theodore nott for the life of you, or that was part of the reason you were ignoring him for and the other reason being that a couple weeks ago you saw theo and pansy making out at party on your brothers instagram story.

now that wouldnt be an issue if you hadn’t been fucking theo for the past five months, and your feelings for him grew without you noticing until you saw that god awful post. jealousy filled you and you were taken back by it, literally having to sit your phone down and take a minute. you felt betrayed, theo told you he wasnt with anyone else.

you came up with a quick plan, ghost him to get over him. not that easy since you two go to the same college but youd manage.

and you did, if he got too close you made sure to walk away and stop answering his texts or facetimes and theo noticed about two days into this plan. you expected him to just stop texting but it seemed like he texted more and more.

theo.

hey

hello?

why arent you answering?

cmon y/n wtf

answer the phone

please?

alr whatever

are you being fr??

those were the messages you got on the daily. you turned off your read receipts and just half swiped on snapchat and didnt check your instagram dms and letting your phone ring every time he called.

you fought yourself from answering his messages, you missed him, missed his touch.

you tried telling yourself it was the sex you missed. that once you fuck someone else you’d have no feelings towards him, and so you let harry potter go down on you but all you could think about was the first time you had gotten with theo.

-

it was cold, the breeze chilling your legs as you rubbed your hands on your thighs for some warmth in that area.

your date had gone sour, and what sucked was he was your ride home but you both had disagreed about something which caused him to leave. that and you were hoping to get laid but your fingers could get you off just fine.

you pressed your phone to your ear, calling your brother for a ride.

“hello?”

“b/n can you come pick me up? please?” you pleaded, teeth chattering. you would’ve gone inside the nice cafe but it had been closed.

“im at Blaise’s” b/n sighed. you groaned irritably. blaise’s of fucking course he was at blaise’s which was two hours away.

“i can ask theo to pick you up. that good? hes dorm” b/n suggested, you could hear blaise and draco in the background almost feeling bad for calling while he was with his friends.

“yeah yeah theos fine” you said taking up the offer, hell you wouldnt care if it was enzo that picked you up and you and enzo did not get along—he annoyed you more than your brother at some points in time.

b/n hung up and three minutes later you got a text from theo asking where you were at.

theo’s truck came into view and you hurried inside of it. shutting the door and relishing in the warm air coming from the vents. putting on your seatbelt then rubbing your hands on your legs to warm them up faster.

“thank you” you sighed happily, ready to go to your dorm and take a shower.

“no biggie” theo said and smiled softly at you before he started driving. rain started, theo went slower on the now slick roads. you couldn’t believe how dark it gotten even though it was only seven pm.

“so what happened?” theo asked, glancing over at you for a second, eyes taking in your appearance. you noticed a small almost not noticeable if you didnt look at him in time, a small and quick lip bite.

you laughed softly, leaning back against the leather seats. “date gone sour. he was my ride back to the dorms but we didnt get along and he left” you said summing up the experience for his sake or maybe for yours, rather just forget about it then dwell on it.

theo shook his head, “dickhead” was all he muttered and you laughed softly.

you stilled when theos hand reached your thigh, squeezing a bit. your eyes trailed from his hands—his perfectly sculpted hands to his bicep then to his neck then finally his face. a smug look on his face, butterflies filled your stomach.

was theo always this attractive? yes but did you truly see it before now? no he was just like all your brothers friends and he was the only one you could stand to be around more than five minutes other than blaise.

his fingers traveled up and up and up slowly, finally reaching your silk panties. his fingers grazed over your clothed slit, testing the waters, you let out a soft moan. watching his wrist disappear and reappear from out of your skirt.

moving your panties to the side. his middle finger grazed your clit as you opened your legs a bit for him. he smirked at this, a small chuckle coming from him as he continued to drive.

your clit continued to be toyed with by theo, sometimes moving his finger down to bring some of your wetness up to your clit. you moaned as he did as he pleased.

theos pants got tighter, you could see the print from where you were sitting. biting your lip before moving your hand that was gripping the edge of the passenger seat to his wrist, moving his hand away from you which made him glance over at you with a slightly confused face.

you looked around, the road was empty, not a car in sight. trees all around.

your hands went to his sweatpants, rubbing theos cock through the fabric before getting his cock out fully. theos breathing got quicker.

theo pulled over once you started to suck him off, relaxing into his seat as your tongue swirled around him. theo grabbed your hair, making sure it didnt go into your face.

“fuck—keep going, just like that” theo groaned, his eyes rolling back and his head pushed back onto the head rest a bit. theo pushed your head down quickly causing you to choke a bit. theo laughed a bit before you started sucking on his tip causing him moan mid laugh.

you bobbed your head a few times before theo pulled you off his cock, a string of saliva connecting you to his cock as theo muttered a quick “alright, up” and then the string was broken from him smashing his lips onto yours.

sloppy kisses as he leaned his seat back and guided you onto his lap. his cock pressed between his abdomen and your cunt.

-

you came at the thought of it which harry’s tongue lapping and sucking at your cunt. you had to hold back from moaning theos name. you went down on harry after then you two just started a little friends with benefits.

you still missed theo, missed sneaking into his truck in the middle of the night more times than you could remember during the winter break whether it was for sex or just to hang out. missed getting goodnight and morning texts from him.

missed sneaking around your brother even though it made thing difficult, you wanted to be able to tell people but you knew you couldnt but the sneaking around part was also exciting.

harry did help, he took your mind off theo at times. you and harry normally sent nudes and sexted but when he wasn’t busy with his school work or his track meets and when you were free, you guys would meet up and give each other head; not having gone all the way yet.

but now, it was spring break. no more having to be aware of where you were and were he was at all times just so you didn’t have a chance of bumping into him.

your parents were so happy you and your brother came home for spring break and not gone with your friends, draco,mattheo and blaise offered you and b/n to go on a road trip with them but you both declined.

three days into spring break and your parents went to your guys’ aunts house to help spring clean. they were going to stay for two nights and for you and b/n to be responsible and not tear up the house.

your phone buzzed, groaning as you moved your hand around trying to find it as you watched american horror story on your laptop. you moved your blanket and your phone finally was found.

cho<3

cant come over :( ceds having diner with my parents

you sighed, reading over her message. now you had no plans, you were hoping she’d come over and now you were out of luck and didn’t feel like going out plus you didn’t have your own car.

you

have fun with ced ;)

read

tossing your phone down with a sigh, turning your attention to your laptop.

your phone buzzed again, you picked it up.

theo.

stop ignoring me.

you sighed again then tossed your phone somewhere on your blanket. laying your head down on your pillow then dragging your finger on the mousepad to skip the intro of the new episode.

-

you groaned as you woke up, it was now dark and “are you still watching” was on your laptop screen.

loud noises were heard from downstairs, you sat up and checked your phone. you had a few snaps from blaise, luna, ginny and ron and a message from theo hours ago just saying “ok” you furrowed your brow as you read it off your notification center.

you moved your laptop to the end of your bed. getting up and stretching before going to your drawer and pulling out a pair of cute pink panties and an oversized shirt.

leaving your room with your clothes and heading down the hall to the bathroom. walking past b/ns room, his door was open which was unusual unless one of his friends were over but no one was in there.

stripping off your clothes then getting into the shower, letting the hot water run down your skin. scrubbing your skin with your favorite body wash then rinsing off your body.

you heard voices, not just your brothers but someone else’s. your heart sank as you hurried and put on your clothes. quickly cleaning up water that had gotten on the floor with a towel then putting it into the laundry basket as your brushed your teeth.

finishing up in the bathroom, after putting on lotion and doing your skin care routine. you walked to your room about to open your door before you heard it.

a laugh, not just any laugh but theodore fucking notts laugh.

maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you. you tip toed to the stairs, taking a couple steps down then crouching to try and see without going all the way down the stairs. peeking through the railing, and there he was.

theo and b/n talking, you cursed at yourself in your head as theo glanced up at you. theo smirked.

hurrying up the couple steps then to your room. chewing on your nails, now you were just going to stay in your room til he left.

this was supposed to be a relaxing break in which you did not have to watch your back 24/7. you plopped onto your bed, groaning in the process. maybe theo was just here to hang out with b/n and that was it, you knew theo wouldn’t pull anything in front of him but it didn’t save you from the awkward tension, or seeing him when walking to the kitchen or bathroom.

just stay in your room and don’t come out, that was your plan.

you spent hours in your room, trying to watch show after show to keep your mind off theo being in your house but you couldnt he kept slipping into your mind and clouding it up with thoughts of only him and no one else.

staring at your ceiling, realizing your first plan was not working and you were not getting over him and perhaps the plan made it worse.

your eyes felt heavy and you started to drift off.

waking up thirsty in your dark room, rubbing your eyes before feeling around you bed for your phone. finally finding it and turning on your flashlight. finding your way to plug in your fairy lights.

now you could finally see. it was 1 am and you heard noises from b/ns room hoping they had moved in there to do whatever they do when they hung out so youd have a better chance of not seeing theo.

putting on a pair of shorts and then opening your door, looking towards your brothers door. hoping they were both in there. you headed to the kitchen, letting out a breath once you finally reached the kitchen.

grabbing a bottle of water, you flicked the kitchen light off before heading back to your room. you successfully got a bottle of water without seeing theo.

you took off your shorts before getting into your bed. checking your messages and scrolling through twitter, your back facing your door and head on your pillow as read tweet after tweet.

you heard your door click open, you put your phone face down before turning over.

“theo what the fuck are you doing in here?” you asked, your voice raising. theo shushed you, as he shut your door.

“shut up, do you want b/n to wake up?” theo scoffed, stepping closer to your bed. you shook your head no.

the tension was thick, watching him take in your appearance then you took in his own. you felt the urge to kiss him, your body longing for his.

theo huffed and ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head a bit. “why are you in here?” you asked, sitting up in your bed. covering yourself with your blanket.

“you know why the fuck im in here y/n” theo said, getting even closer to your bed. you both looking into each other’s eyes, you sat up onto your knees. you hopped he was feeling the same way you were, missing you like you missed him and theo did.

theo had been going crazy since you started ignoring him, not being able to ask b/n about you or tell him too tell you to text him back. theo connected the dots on you viewing the video on b/ns story of him and pansy and then right after you started to ghost him, he knew the video is what caused it.

that was the only time him and pansy kissed, they were both drunk and it was just in the moment nothing more. pansy was strictly a friend, theo and her talked about it after they kissed that he had feelings for you and pansy promised not to tell. theo wanted to tell you in person but you avoided him.

theo leaned down locking your lips roughly, your hands went to his sides and his hands trailed up your hip making your shirt rise and a bit. he started to push you back a bit, getting off your knees and moving back to sit, letting him push you back.

both of you gasping into each other, hands gripping and fondling each other. your legs opened for him to rest between. “i heard you started fucking around with harry” theo said between kisses as his hand rubbed up your thigh to your waist then to your clothed cunt.

you moaned softly, his thumb grazing over your clit, moving up and down teasingly. “its nothing serious” you whined under him, his thumb adding more pressure.

“did he fuck you?” theo asked, looking down at you. you shook your head no, looking up at him. “say it out loud whore” he scoffed, roughly taking your face with his hand and pulling towards him.

“no” you mumbled, his thumb still working on your clothed clit taking away the slight pain from his grip on your face. your legs spread more, a small wet patch on your panties formed.

“good girl” he cooed, his fingers moved your panties to the side then running his middle finger along your bare cunt making you shiver. “my sweet girl” theo added sweetly.

you gasped as his hand lifted then landed on your cunt with a hard smack, your thighs quickly closed as you let out a soft hiss. “you’ve been so bad lately” theo sighed, gently spreading your legs, fingertips brushing over your thighs before smacking your cunt again.

thighs closing quickly, a whimper left your lips. theos grip still on your face, letting the sting calm as he rubbed your thigh. “ignoring me over a five second video we could’ve talked about” theo whispered, your eyes grew wide. theos hand moving your legs open again.

“m’sorry i should’ve talked to you about it” you admitted in a whine, as his middle finger grazed your clit softly. another slap, you moaned. your hand reached to cup your cunt to help calm the sting.

theos lips pressed against your forehead, “and we’ll talk about it later” he whispered, his hand pushing away your hand softly to rest on your bed then his came back to cunt with loving strokes on your clit.

“but for now i’ve missed your cunt” he whispered, letting go of your face and kissing you then trailing the kisses down to your neck, his hand moving from your clit to push up your shirt.

theo tossed your shirt onto the floor before his lips met your skin again, going down and down leaving wet kisses down your chest and abdomen then above your panties. looking up at you, then hooking his fingers around the thin fabric and pulling it down your legs and letting it drop from his hands onto the floor.

one hand pushed your leg back, holding at the bend of your knee pinning it to the bed. theos other hand came to cunt, running his finger along your slit a couple of times before spreading you with fingers. “you’re so wet” theo commented, his eyes trained on your glistening cunt.

“did harry make you this wet?” theo asked in a harsh tone, glaring up at you, theos finger slipping inside you. shaking your head ‘no’ as his finger pumped in and out. his fingers were big, much bigger than harry’s and your own. theos thumb found your clit and rubbed in circles.

theo removed his hand from you, then landing a slap on your clit. “what did i say about saying it out fucking loud” theo spat harshly.

“cmon you whore, tell me, did he make you this wet” theo said, your cunt clenched around nothing.

“no” you moaned out, his fingers finding you again.

“there we go, you can be so good for me when you try” theo whispered against your thigh, biting at your inner thigh as his fingers made you moan and whine out for him to keep going.

you looked down at him between your legs, “something you want princess? you’re gonna have to ask for it” theo teased.

“please, please” you mumbled, your eyes rolling back, clenching around his fingers.

“tell me what you want my love” theo said watching you, admiring you and your state. admiring the way your back arches at his finger tips and how you can’t think straight when he’s touching you.

you whimpered, the coil tightening and tightening. “your cock please theo, please” you begged, theo smiled.

theo kissed your clit before easing his fingers out of you, you leaned up trying not to think of how empty you felt. your hands pulling off theos shirt, then his sweatpants and boxers letting his cock spring out.

you leaned over, opening the drawer in your nightstand then feeling around and finally feeling the condoms you had.

taking one then leaning back to theo, going back to rest on your knees. leaning up and kissing him, taking the condom out of the wrapper as you kissed down his neck.

rolling the condom onto him, theo pushed you back down. theos hands moving your legs to his waist.

theo pulled back, taking his cock, teasing his tip at your entrance before pushing into you. “oh fuck” you moaned, gripping at the pillow above you. your eyes squeezing shut and your mouth fell open. theos hand gripped your thigh harshly, digging his nails into your skin.

theo wanted to tell you how good you felt but couldn’t form words, trying not to cum from just the first thrust in. having to take a minute for himself after being in you fully.

you clenched around him when you felt him start to pull out then push back in. theos hips going slow at first then getting faster and faster as he went.

his name falling from your lips as he continued to fuck you, leaning back and harshly pulling you to him.

theo leaned forward, his head finding its way to the crook of your neck. heavy breathing and theo groans and your whimpers filled the room, the both of you trying to stay quieter since b/n was across the hall.

“let me on top” you whispered, against his ear then a soft kiss followed.

a kiss was placed on your neck, “are you sure?” theo asked still thrusting at a quick pace. you nodded. theo pulled out of you, moving with occasional kisses as theo helped you get on top of him.

theos back rested against your head board, you glanced down, theo helped you line yourself up with him before pushing yourself down onto his cock. your eyes squeezed shut, head rolling back and theo kissed on your neck.

you lifted then went back down, moving on him, feeling him fill you up.

theos kissed went to your mouth as you got closer, your chests almost touching. moaning into each other as you rode him. moving in a way so that your clit would get friction.

his hands gripped your hips, helping you move on him. his cock throbbed in you.

“y’feel so good” theo moaned, he was close and didn’t know how long he’d last from now.

theos fingers went to your clit, rubbing, causing you to shutter against him and whimper loudly, “cum for me princess” theo demanded.

clenching around theos cock as he rubbed your clit faster, theo thrusted up a little. your legs shook, shuddering as you came on his cock.

moans and soft hums came from you as it became too much. theo moving you up and down as you came down, “mmh too much, too much” you whined, clinging onto theo. your head resting in the crook of his neck, his hands moving to your ass, guiding you up and down.

theo moaned as he came, filling the condom with a few thrusts.

your fingers traced shapes on his chest as his hands moved from your ass to your waist and one to your thigh, rubbing comfortably.

his lips pressed against your forehead before moving you off him gently.

theo tossed the condom into the trash, putting on his boxers. grabbing tissues and then coming to clean you up.

opening your drawers for a new pair of underwear and a shirt then coming back to your tired frames and helping you dress.

slipping into your bed, moving your blankets to cover the both of you. theo reached for your phone that laid behind you as you got comfortable with your head on his chest.

theo knew your password, unlocking your phone and getting on snapchat and sending a pic of you on his chest to harry then blocked him, going to messages and instagram and blocking him on there also.

going back to messages and turning on your read receipts for himself then sitting your phone back down.

“you wanna talk about that video now?” theo asked, his fingertips dancing along you back.

you hummed in agreement.

[gottaluvus]

🧸; to infinity and beyond | gojo s.

─── summary; love. love is all he ever wanted, all he ever wished for. desire. he desired to be in the arms of his lover, his one and only. “please.. i’ll do anything, everything to make it so you’re happy and comfortable here, with me.” he desperately pledged, now with his knees on the floor with his mascara running down his face. “don’t leave me. not again, please, not again.” he’ll plead and beg as long as he needs to have [name]. and if begging doesn’t work, drugging and kidnapping will do.

— pairing; god!gojo + mortal!m!reader

⑅ cw; lower case, cheating, worshiper gojo, obsessed gojo [IN PT.2] non-con touching, implied sexual advances, paranoid reader

⑅ notes; boy did this change a lot from the first draft

⑅ chapters; II, III, IIII

it was a sunny, bright day in Michigan. even though a teeth chattering breeze flowed through the air and snow fell from the skies, a smile was still on the mortal’s face. a bright, pretty smile.

he hummed the tunes of ‘after the storm’ by kali uchis while the background noise of this afternoon’s supposed weather came from the radio.

“isn’t he just perfect?” the god of, ironically, marriage and wedlock spoke, his index finger trailing along his throne’s armrest. he peered through the cloud’s of Olympus, watching the mortal closely.

it’d been seven years, three months, twenty-four days, two hours, and two seconds since the start of their relationship, the start of his obsessive worshipping. wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around? no. at least gojo didn’t see it in such way. they’d been together for so long, and gojo only cheating thirty seven times! it's shorter than his record of their sixth year, thankfully.

“oh god, he’s doing it again.” nanami, the god of wealth and prosperity, mumbled, taking a sit of his morning nectar while reading Olympus Daily at the eighteen inch marble table. “is he alright? i’m getting worried!” yuji, the god of creativity, worriedly spoke, it came out louder than he intended it to.

“i’m fine itadori, i’m just taking care of the mortals well being since megumi is on leave for the time being.”

“oh! okay, thank you for telling me, mr. satoru!” even though gojo relentlessly told him not go call him ‘mr’, mainly because he’s still in his early thousands and isn’t old like nanami, yuji still insisted that since he was the youngest, he has to respect his elders. elders, he said! elders! gojo was considered to be over 1,379 years old in the mortals eyes! in Olympus, that's considered to be a young adult!

“i’m going to get some nectar.” gojo said, excusing himself from the throne/dining room, supposedly leaving to be in the comfort of his personal realm. fortunately, he has a decent poker face and was a [incredibly good] decent liar. where was he actually headed to? the ‘waking world’, as the Olympians called it. he just called it ‘the mortal realm’.

without a stop in his walk, he was in front of his fianceé’s company, aka the place where he had a job. why? well, because he’s the boss, darling!

“morning, mr. satoru!” is all he heard from his employers as he made his way to his lover’s desk, a cold mocha extreme, extra creme just how he liked it, with a donut with hazelnut glaze; [name]’s favorite. how did he know? stalking! i mean, watching. watching his lover closely, of course! with a lot of pep in his stride, he officially made his first stop of the day at [name]’s desk.

the smile on his face dropped almost immediately.

“where is he?!” he shouted, looking around the room to see who would dare to speak up and tell him the location of his beloved.

a girl. brunette, short, with freckles and long eyelashes stood up, her head immediately facing the ground. “he’s in your office, sir!” she exclaimed, still standing. it’d been a few seconds of thick tension, the room quiet as a mouse. well, that was until gojo had decided to say a quick ‘thank you’ and be on his merry way to visit his forever.

“[name], you should’ve at least told me you were coming to visit! i brought you breakfast by the way, here.” gojo handed the drink and plastic wrapped donut to the man, their hands touched only faintly. for a quick second or two. but it was more than enough for his heart to skip a beat.

“thank you, mr. satoru–”

“gojo. call me gojo.” his boss corrected.

“–gojo” he said corrected himself, “i should’ve made an appointment, i know, but–”

for the second time, gojo interrupted his employee. “you never need an appointment in order to see me, dear! you can visit anytime you please, darling.”

a faint grimace shown on [name]’s face from gojo’s pet name usage, but he needed to tell him the reason why he had came here to his office.

“—but, i came here to tell you that–”

he wants to marry him and live in Olympus by his side forever?! no wait, that’d be too soon. slow and steady wins the race. he’s.. in love! with him, no one else, hopefully. oh that’d be splendid to hear!

gojo gushed at the thoughts running through his mind as he stared holes into [name]’s head.

“.. resigning.” his letter of resignation was slid onto the sleek, oak tree desk.

RESIGNING? no. no, he couldn’t be. he can’t! he just–! he just.. can’t leave. not again. not after all he’s done! no after all the divine crimes he had committed and covered up for this fucking son of a bitch! my god, [name] was just playing with his heart. all these years. seven years. seven fucking years.

“sorry, must’ve hallucinated, what’d you say?”

[name] titled his head a little, like a puppy, at his bosses confusion. however, without hesitation, he repeated the words again. which successfully embedded them into his brain.

standing up, slamming his hands on the desk, fury with a mixture of mass desperation he shouted.

“NO! YOU CAN’T LEAVE!”

flinch. his lover.. flinched at him yelling. he’s never flinched before. not when talking with gojo, at least. oh dear, what has he done?

gojo quickly covered his mouth with his hands before lowering them to his sides. “i’m sorry, my love. i’m so sorry.” he started to tear up.

“i just, i can’t handle this world without you by my side. i just– i just can’t.” he sniffled in the middle of his sentence, chest rising a little. “gojo, i–” before [name] could speak his piece, gojo quickly interrupted. “what is it?! the pay?! your coworkers?! please! just tell me and stay! just.. just stay!” while saying all this he made his way and rounded the corner of his desk.

gojo took [name]’s hands in his own and cupped his face.

“please.. i’ll do anything, everything to make it so you’re happy and comfortable here, with me.” he desperately pledged, now with his knees on the floor with his mascara running down his face. “don’t leave me. not again, please, not again.”

[name] just sat there, stunned. not again? don’t leave him? he’ll do anything? he can’t handle the world without him by his side? what in the world is going on?!

“gojo, please, let me go..” [name] begged, trying to pull his hands away but ineffectively failing. gojo had no intentions of letting go, is what [name] had thought to be true. “i’ll..” he had to say something, anything, to be set free. in all honesty, he could scream and cry. he knows he can. but it would be useless, his pleads and begs would be ignored. everyone knew not to come into gojo’s office, unless you had a death wish. and unless you were [name], his beloved.

“i’ll stay.” [name] declared.

gojo immediately sat up, his tears still flowed and his sniffles still came, he looked better though. happier. brighter. prettier. he was ecstatic to hear such information. “my love, really? do you.. do you promise?”

gojo held out his pink like a child who’d just been promised the newest batch of toys for their birthday, awaiting for their pinkies to lock. it signifies that they’d be together. forever and ever. and ever. and ever.

hesitantly looking down at the man’s slim, pale pinky and locked it with his own. “i promise.” [name] swore, the look in his eyes was filled to the brim with desperation. not to be loved? no. to be let go.

what has he done?

his life is done. forever.

[jaegonsmoon]

Omega pregnant Aegon: *is married to Alpha Aemond and gives birth to a dark haired beautiful baby*

King Viserys: *is oblivious and just happy have more grandchildren*

Rhanyra: *freaking out over being an aunt and grandmother at the same time and also trying to spin this situation in way where this won’t end in war or death*

Aemond, Otto, Alicent and Baela: *absolutely furious and ready to draw blood*

Luke and Rhanea: *not looking and anyone and edging out of the room to avoid any fallout*

Daemon:* smirking and leaning against the doorway with popcorn*

Jace:*sweating bullets and debating on running to the free cities to keep his balls in tact*

Aegon: *ignoring everything and just holding /in love with his new Baby*

THIS IS GOLDEN!!!!!! I love it!

Aemond, who has fucked Aegon probably two to three times out of duty since they wedded. Aemond who has been fucking unbonded omega Lucerys since he presented as one not long after his and Aegon’s wedding. Aemond who, after his and his brother’s coupling, looks the other way and pretends he does not see when Aegon downs moon tea like a cup of the finest westerosi wine. Aemond who is in love with Lucerys and curses his and his own existence every day for the omega not presenting sooner so they could’ve been bonded against all odds instead. Aemond, who knows where Aegon’s heart lies since they were kids: *Fake offended gasp at the babes dark hair*

Lucerys, who forgot to take his moon tea last time and drank it a tad too late, way past the 24 hours cycle, physically sweating: *gulps*

Baela, Rhaena, and Helaena, who have always known what’s stirring inside the pot and have all come to a silent agreement because they’re all young and craving a love of their own, not one forced upon them: *trying to contain their smirks and compostures*

Jacaerys, who has loved Aegon since he learned the meaning of it. Who’s first kiss, first time, first everything he shared with his uncle. Jace who was denied Aegon’s hand when his mother, who knew all along, tried to arrange their marriage. Jace who couldn’t steal Aegon away because Alicent, suspicious of it all, wed him to Aemond privately, before anyone could make a move. Jacaerys whose chest was swelling with pride at the sight of what they made together. Their babe. It was his seed the one to blossom in his womb, it was him the one that put it there, and now were all gonna possibly be beheaded for it, but in truth there was only one person in the room who gave a fuck about it, and no one would listen to her. Jacaerys who couldn’t be more obvious right now if he could help it: Gevie.

Aegon, who had only eyes for Jacaerys his entire life, ever since he had been born, till the moment present where he knew, the moment he became pregnant. He felt it. Aegon who spent his entire pregnancy sneaking out on rides where he and Jace would meet halfway in a small island they had found as an escaped in their early youth. Where they would curl up in between their dragons and talk, kiss, touch and fuck and hold each other for hours. Ageon, whose babe was restless when their sire was away. Aegon who wished this would happen, that his baby would inherit their true sires features for the world to see. For his mother to see. The inevitable, how they were meant to be from the start and no faith and costume of the Mother or The Seven could come between the ways of Old Valyria, of the dragons. Aegon who was in love with what he and his nephew had created out of love and passion, couldn’t stop staring at the beautiful creature in his arms: I would burn the seven kingdoms for you.

And much like with Rhaenyra’s first three children, King Viserys would have the tongues and eyes of whoever dared to speak ill against his grandchild.

And when a couple of months later, unmated omega prince Lucerys gave birth to a beautiful silver haired baby, then what—

[breakyourrxles]

❥west side (m)

↳ a very special valentines with your two boyfriends.

lee minho x fem!reader x bang chan — kitchen table poly threesome, established relationship, explicit adult content. [6.5k wc] cws: penetrative sex; no barrier method used, creampie, oral sex (m+f), name calling, humiliation, light degradation, a little good ‘cop’ Chan bad ‘cop’ Minho type of vibe, Chan has a Big Dick, double penetration (m+v), little bit of facefucking, facial, little bit of hair pulling, cum eating, three-color safeword system (only green is used).

“When is he getting home, I’m starving!”

Across the apartment, nestled between black marble countertops and dark blue cupboards, Minho huffs out a laugh at your lack of patience for the third party accompanying the two of you this evening. Playfully petulant as you sprawl yourself across the large, black, faux leather couch like a child throwing a fit, you puff out your lower lip even in spite of the fact that you’re well aware that the man in the kitchen be much too busy with the chopping of green onion to give you the attention that you’re looking for.

“Couldn’t be much longer than ten minutes, you know he always works late.”

You kick your feet lightly again, just before giving up on the childish display and reaching for the remote atop the glass coffee table in the living room. Switching on the television, you instead decide on settling in comfortably — because ten minutes to Bang Chan can quite possibly mean an hour, in reality.

 But then, you hear the jingling of a ring of keys just outside of the front door of the shared apartment.

 Minho turns slightly, glancing over his shoulder and behind you with a knowing grin. “Told you.”

 The door cracks ajar, a booted foot prying between the wall and the wood to push it further — you hear the rustling of paper and plastic bags as they meet one another in Chan’s hands — full of all of the things that you and Minho had requested of him during his shopping trip on the way home.

 Minho quickly rinsing and drying his hands rushes over to the man as he enters the apartment with a bit of a struggle, carefully pulling bags from the man just entering to help him with the load — you watch with love in your heart, because what a magical way to spend Valentines Day, really.

 Not that this is all that much different from every other day, of course.

 One of the things that had you falling for Minho in the early stages of your dating phase — aside from his affluence in the kitchen and his love for cats, was his willingness to be down for just about anything. All of the places you wanted to travel to, he was interested. Trying any bizarre foods, sign him up. And sexually? Suppose he knew little to no bounds as far as that one was concerned.

 And after seven years together when you painstakingly brought up the fact that you thought a poly lifestyle might suit you more — emotionally and mentally prepared for it being the end of your relationship — you figure looking back that maybe you should have seen it coming: that is, Minho’s willingness to give it a go.

 Six months after that initial conversation and through numerous others about what your relationship would look like from here on out: you met Bang Chan.

 It was easy. So much easier than you had anticipated. When it came time to introduce the two of them and as nerve wrecking as it was, you instead found yourself in a somewhat humorous situation of nearly third-wheeling with how well the men got on with one another, and later that evening during the individual check-in’s, you found that both absolutely adored the other one.

 And so, you find yourself with two boyfriends. Six more months later, Minho asks you if you think Chan would be interested in joining the household.

 “I totally forgot to go myself after work,” Minho says as he sets the bags down onto the tile flooring of the kitchen next to his cutting station. “Sorry I had to employ your services.”

 “Nah, it’s good.” Chan answers back with a wide, dimpled smile as he unlaces and begins the removal of his shoes at the door. “Gave me extra reason to get the hell out of the studio.”

 “I’m starving to death and no one cares.” You finally whine out, feigning dead along the length of the couch. The display pulls Chan’s attention to you, smiling wide again, and with shoes removed the man makes his way to the living room area to kneel down and plant a kiss on your forehead.

 “Poor thing, she almost didn’t make it.”

 “I know, then we might have to eat her.” Minho casually responds from the kitchen, as if cannibalism an everyday practice in the household.

 “Well, I have a feeling that’s on the agenda for tonight, anyway.”

 You reach out to playfully slap at Chan’s arm as he goes to stand again, not before kissing you on the mouth, of course, and offering a gentle “missed you.”

 Heading into the kitchen alongside the other man, Chan grabs an apron off of the hook next to the stove, tying it around his waist and attempting to make himself useful there. Of course, Minho more or less only shoos him out of the way the majority of the time — instead, handing the man a bottle of wine and telling him to pour the glasses, along with making the table for the bountiful dinner display soon to come from Chef Lee, much to the both of your delight.

 When five minutes until dinner remains, Minho calls out for the two of you to get dressed for it. It’s a small, fun sort of thing that’s become a bit of a tradition in the house now: staying in for special days and events, dressing up as if the three of you were to be going out for the evening, and only to get undressed shortly after dinner.

 For you, it’s a small, strappy, champagne colored dress with a plunging neckline that leaves little to the imagination, not that it matters all that much, given the company present.

 For Chan, black, pressed slacks and an expensive, purple silk button down with more than a couple of the buttons left undone.

 As for Minho, under the protection of the apron in the kitchen, he also wears a perfectly pressed pair of black slacks, as well as a navy blue button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to grant him the ability to do his magic as far as food goes.

 Seating yourself at the fully set table, the delicious smell of a perfectly made dinner radiating through the room, you watch as Chan saunters into the kitchen once more with the inherent need to make himself useful in any way that he can — of course, Minho waves him away once more, urging him to sit down and that he has the serving of dinner under control. Chan knows better than to argue with the man, instead, grabbing the nearly forgotten bottle of wine from the kitchen island top and carrying it over with him to the table — topping off your glass just a tad before setting it and himself down next to you. Shortly thereafter, your primary partner joints, serving all three plates and setting the dish off to the side before seating himself for the meal that the three of you are to enjoy together this evening.

 “It looks amazing,” Chan is the first to say, and much to Minho’s delight as a smile pulls at his lips. “As expected from the chef of the house.”

 “Thank you, thank you.” He responds proudly. “Don’t fill up too much, there’s also dessert.”

 A coy commentary on what’s to come later in the evening. He can’t help himself, after all.

With the three of you clearing your plates and emptying your wine glasses, Chan takes it upon himself to stand first and begin clearing the table — Minho once again insists that it not be necessary and especially not need to be tended to right now — but Chan waves him off just for a second as he quickly ushers dirty plates and glasses to the kitchen sink to be rinsed and placed into the dishwasher before any remanence of food be left to stick to the dinnerware. You watch as Minho smirks at the mans earnest, reaching your hand over to take his with a gentle squeeze.

 You can’t imagine a happier life than this one, with the two men you love in absolute.

 “So then—”

 The words ring out from behind you, Chan, as he waltzes back over and stands just between where the two of you sit, placing a hand on each of your shoulders, you look up to find that charming, sweet grin that you’ve grown to adore so deeply as it takes the corners of the mans lips.

 “—How about that dessert, yeah?”

 Tonight, the three of you decide on the largest bedroom: your primary bedroom with Minho as in it resides the largest, king size bed of the apartment. Naturally, Chan is no stranger to this space, having spent many a night sleeping with the two of you as well as engaging in other such activities. He has his own room as well, enjoying his space to himself should he want it and far more utilized in the earliest stages of his having moved in, but as the months passed and the love and comfort grew, it was more often than not that he would be cozily nestled within the sheets along side of you and Minho, whether it be a result of sexual endeavors or not.

 Immaculately made bedding displayed before you, it’s almost a shame to have it torn apart shortly — of course, this is a thought that comes and goes from your mind quickly as the first hand of Minho’s splays across your lower back — urging you forward and towards the piece of furniture.

 “So,” he says, the two men stopping near the doorway as you spin to face them and sit at the edge of the bed to take in the sight of the real feast of the evening. “What’s on the agenda? Do you feel good tonight?”

 Nodding, you lean back against your palms. “Yeah, I feel really good. Maybe even want to get a little bit crazy, ya know, since it’s a special occasion.”

 A single eyebrow propping up on Minho’s face at the words, he turns to look at Chan who meets his eyes simultaneously — both with grins pulling at their cheeks. “Alright, give us the rundown, darling.”

 With legs crossed, you slowly pull them apart with intention of granting both of the mean a sneak peak of what resides under your dress — which is thin and little as far as additional clothing goes. As both of their eyes hone in on the sight before them, you hum to yourself innocently as if to have no clue what it is that you’ve done.

 “Been a while since we got nasty, messy,” you begin. It’s true, too. The comfort of domestic life having fully taken hold of your relationship in all ways — the majority of the sex you find yourself having being with one or the other, and rarely the three — and in the event that it is, it be relatively vanilla in nature.

 But not tonight, if you’re to have your way.

 “A good night to revisit some of the earlier fun: a little name calling, a little humiliation, even.”

 Reaching his hands up to begin unbuttoning the few left fastened on his shirt and pulling the bottom hemming out from its tucked place, Minho’s eyes darken at the words and all that it entails for him. “Right, after all, you weren’t satisfied with having just one man, now were you?”

 Happy with his quick uptake on precisely what it is that you’re looking for, and something that certainly comes with years of experience together, you grin sinisterly at your loving, adoring partner for life. “Sure wasn’t.”

 With Chan sidelining briefly in the beginning as the two of you lay out the scene for him to fit into, Minho moves his hands down to his belt as he slowly begins the unfastening of that — the jingling of the metal ringing through the otherwise empty silence of your bedroom.

 “Good thing you have him here to be sweet to you, can’t promise that I’ll do the same.”

 And slightly out of character, out of scene, you stare him directly in the eyes as the whisper leaves through your lips. “Good.”

 Taking his cue, Chan begins to come around to the other side of the bed; shirt and belts discarded similarly to the man still present in front of you, you feel the soft, indentation in the mattress of him crawling up behind you long before soft hands find their way to your shoulders — fingers looping into the straps of your dress and delicately dropping them down your arms as his head dips down enough for his lips to find the flesh of your ear. Closing your eyes, your head lolls to the opposite side of where he is as you savor the feeling of having your other boyfriends hands on you — hands now pressing forward and to the front of your chest to palm you through the thin fabric of the garment, and only for a moment before allowing his hands to slip in through the dip of the top and feeling the warm comfort of his bare hands cupping your breasts.

 It’s easy to lose yourself in moments like this — the sort of soft, caring, graceful lover that Chan be — a man that always carries with him a tendency to touch you as though you’re glass capable of breaking, a far cry from the tough and rough role that Minho fall into so naturally. Of course, your primary more than willing and capable to offer the same realm of love-making as Chan, but suppose everyone has their niches.

 And thus the relationship balance together so beautifully well with the both of them by your side.

 Attention honed in on the way that your partner touches you from behind, you fail to notice that Minho slithers into place just in front of you, already fallen to his knees between your own and hands coming to the inside of your thighs as the first alert of his being there. It doesn’t alarm you, feeling his presence — instead welcoming him with the careful slide of your legs open wider to accommodate his placement as he grins up at you.

 “Wore your smallest panties, huh?” He says with a tone lustful and dark as his hands slowly make their way up your legs. “Been waiting for this? Wanted it that bad?”

 Kneading hands into the flesh of your chest, Chan rubs a feathered, pointed circle over one of your nipples at the absence of response to the man between your legs. “Answer him, darling.”

 You whisper out a simple “yeah” in response as a single finger of his reaches your slit and glides up the length of it — through the shiver the contact sends across your body, Minho glances up at you again just as you look down upon him.

 “Who’d you do it for?” Minho asks now as he applies the slightest bit of pressure against your clit. “Me, or him?”

 “M-Minho…”

 A humiliating question, and if the man in question be inside of you right now he’d surely be able to feel precisely what it is that such a thing does for your arousal.

 Of course, he knows without it, too.

 Catching onto your reluctance to answer the question, your primary partner scoots himself forward, hooking his arms under your knees to pull you closer to the edge of the bed as well and with little hesitancy past that point, licks a firm strip up your pussy and punctuating the motion with a loud smack of suction against your clit that has you quaking within the arms of both men.

 Pulling up ever so slightly to look at you again, Minho grins like a man with all of the upper hand in the situation. “Answer, or no one is coming tonight.”

 The worst threat the man could conjure up, because at the very least you need to watch one of them carry on to completion this evening.

 Swallowing down your humiliation, you close your eyes and lean your head back against your boyfriends shoulder before allowing the name to fall from your lips. “Chan.”

 “Good,” he quickly replies as he settles back into his working position. “I better get you ready for him then, huh?”

 The words send an additional shiver down your spine, interrupted by the feeling of his hot mouth against your pussy and two fingers burying deep inside of you.

 On the other side, you feel Chan’s lips feather across the skin of your face from behind you still before whispering into your ear so lightly that you consider it might truly be intended for your ears only. “Going to take me so well, won’t you? He’ll get you ready for me, know you can’t have it that easily.”

 This time you know that Minho can feel the way your walls close in around his fingers — Chan is right, though. Two men offering two very different experiences and their dicks no different as far as that goes: Minho only slightly above average in length and girth and something you’ve been taking for many, many years already. Chan, on the other hand — well, suppose there had been a question of physical capability when it came to girth the first time you had seen it.

 You’re more weathered for the storm nowadays, but quickies with him be a bit of a pipe dream, certainly.

 Third finger prying you open from the man between your legs, you bring a hand down to bury into his hair as he relentlessly circles your clit with his tongue — simulating the penetration of taking cock with the smooth, careful glide of his hand between your legs, you melt into the both of them as Chan talks you through it all so lovingly. “You’re already doing so well baby, can you come for him?”

 Nodding furiously at the question and only a whimper verbally, you feel the pointed shift of Minho’s ministrations against you — knowing exactly what it takes to get you to your peak — looking down at him through half-lidded eyes as he never breaks eye contact with you for even a second as you clench around his fingers and every muscle in your abdomen and legs tightens with your impending release. You get approximately five seconds of the orgasmic build up before your partner pushes you over the edge entirely and has you coming around his hand, fucking and sucking you through your first high of the evening as you desperately whine his name out for the both of them to hear.

 Slightly pulling back, Minho kisses along the inside of your thigh a handful of times before standing again and presenting himself for your viewing — pants already discarded you suppose well before him having made his way between your legs, he reaches out for your shaky hand and taking it, you allow him to pull you up into a standing position for the man behind you to assume the position you had only just been in — slipping his own slacks and underwear down his legs and kicked to the side before once again placing hands on your sides again.

 It’s the perfect opportunity to fully disrobe you now, as well. Chan’s thumbs slipping into the sides of the useless fabric and pulling it to drop and pool at your feet, you kick it to the side as Minho pulls you into a full, passionate kiss — all teeth and tongue, want and desire laced throughout — he moans into your mouth at the feeling of you wrapping a hand around his length, nearly fully erect already at the promise of the activities soon to come.

 Behind you, Chan palms over himself at the sight of the two of you — his free hand ghosting over the flesh of your body in front of him.

 When shopping for a new bed a few months ago, scenarios such as this were held strongly in the forefront of yours and Minho’s minds. The closer to the floor, the better.

 Breaking the kiss, Minho whispers into your mouth quietly. “Why don’t you go ahead and sit on it, baby? Face me, want your mouth around my cock while you take him.”

 Dizzying words and a request that you’re more than happy to oblige, you step backwards as Chan’s hands grip your hips to help you down and into position atop him. Reaching between the both of you to grip his length, as the wide tip of him meets your entrance you waste no more time bearing your weight down to sink onto it slowly as your legs shake from the struggle of holding yourself up enough to not try to take him in one, swift go.

 Minho keeps your free hand in his as you embark upon your mission, your other hand flat against Chan’s thigh in an attempt to distribute the weight — eyes screwed shut at the delightful stretch of the man under you pulling you open to accommodate the width of him inside of you.

 Thankfully, Minho does thorough work, and within a few seconds you find yourself fully seated in the lap of your third addition to the relationship. Comfortably full of him.

 Giving yourself time to adjust to it, you instead swing your attention back to Minho in front of you, lazily stroking himself at the view displayed before him as you take the cock of another man — his gaze upon you heavy and lustful — stepping closer to you, you bring a hand up and around his length to replace his own. Licking one, long stripe up his cock, Minho groans at the touch and the visual of you before hastily pulling the head of him between your lips and sucking off with a loud ’pop.’

 Chan has other plans as you cock warm him, one hand reaching around to the front of you to first feel the place where he stretches you open before the pads of his fingers nestle against your clit to rub slow, firm circles into you.

 Bringing one hand up, Minho runs his fingers through your hair before fastening his fist in place at the top to pull your mouth forward and onto him once again — moaning around him, his eyes roll at the sensation of the warm, wet glide of your mouth along his cock.

 “Mouth feels so good, baby,” Minho whispers out with his eyes fully locked onto the way that he disappears inside of you. “Want me to come in your face?”

 His voice sounds so loving and delicate despite the dirty things he’s saying to you, and groaning around the girth of him, one corner of his mouth pulls upwards at the response.

 “Or on your face?”

 You groan around him again, Chan’s circles into your clit increasing in pace as well as the quickness in which you fuck your mouth along Minho. The intensity of the situation and the way that it’s so arousing bringing you to a point of near desperation in releasing at least one of the men you’re lucky enough to be engaging with tonight.

 It appears that Minho feels it, as well, his head falling back momentarily before bringing it back to cast his eyes upon you again. “You’re gonna make me come fast if you keep going like that, love.”

 “Think she wants your cum,” Chan says from behind you as his lips once again find their way to your ear. “Look how hard she’s working for it, she wants it so bad.”

 “Didn’t she just say she wanted to be stuffed full of your cock?” Minho replies back to the man behind you, the two of them carrying on a conversation over you almost as if you’re not even there. “Guess she’s just hopelessly needy for cock and cum, huh?”

 “Guess so.”

 “I’ll give you what you want then, my perfect little cumslut.”

 You realize it’s been such a long time that Minho call you a name like that with the way that it has far more impact on your arousal than you might have anticipated. Walls gripping down on Chan upon hearing it, you feel the way his lips pull up into a smile without saying anything about it — allowing you and Minho the moment to yourselves as you continue running your mouth along the mans length with needy quickness. As he finds himself closer and closer to peaking, Minho’s fist in your hair tightens to hold you still as he instead takes control of the momentum, fucking quick and shallowly into your face before burying himself inside and beginning the release of his cum down your throat with a throaty grunt.

 The first pulse of his release comes full and you swallow it down as he pulls himself from your mouth and rubs the wet tip of his cock along your swollen, red lips — the remaining two, three pulses of his cum far less powerful and only dribbling along the skin of your mouth, cheeks and chin as he comes to full completion on your face with a heavy sigh of contentment.

 “You look so pretty like this, covered in cum and stuffed full of cock. It’s like you were meant for this, my love.”

 Hand releasing from your hair, he brings it down to the art done along your skin, shoveling the most prominent streaks of his release into your mouth and allowing you to suck his fingers clean of him, only to lean down and fully press his own mouth to yours for another deep kiss.

 “Now,” Minho says, pulling away from you and taking a full step back. “You should give her what she really came for tonight.”

 “Is that what you want now?” Chan asks into the shell of your ear — he doesn’t bother to wait for much of a verbal response, however, before leaning backwards and lying you flat against his chest. “Want me to fuck you open for Minho’s viewing pleasure?”

 Feet flat against the mattress and knees bent, it gives the man the ability to fuck into you properly now — one arm wrapped around your chest to hold you firmly in place as he begins his slow, steady drive into your drenched, welcoming pussy.

 Even just the first, full plunge of him into you feels electric with how stimulated and aroused you are by now.

 Whimpering out as his pace hastens, you can already feel the threat of your second orgasm bubbling in your gut — one of the perks of a man with such a massive cock — the constant, unrelenting press against every inch of your insides as he fucks into you expertly and with full intent of having you come undone around him.

 To the side, Minho climbs up and onto the bed next to you to watch you take your other boyfriend as he watches on with a very gentle glide of his hand along his own length. Not an impossibility by any means that he be able to bring himself to full erection a second time in the evening, deep down, you find yourself hopeful for the possibility, as well.

 “Gonna come around his dick, baby?” Minho asks with a hedonistic desire lacing his tone.

 Nodding quickly again, Chan pulls his hand away from between your legs. “Think you can come around me untouched? Just my cock?”

 You think it’s a very likely possibility, and the dialogue surrounding it certainly making it much more reasonable.

 “What do you need to come? Tell me.” Minho says, cock standing at nearly full attention once again as the grip along himself becomes slightly more firm at the sight of the both of you in front of him.

 Asking for you to tell him what you need to come around another man, untouched.

 “Faster, harder—”

 You can only manage out those two words, which are plenty enough and Chan is happy to oblige as he fucks into you harder and faster just as you had requested. Arm wrapped over your chest holding you harder against him to keep you in place to take his unrelenting pace into you, the feeling of release this time so overwhelming that you feel the beginnings of tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you bite into the bottom of your lip in an attempt to hold yourself together. The intensity of this orgasm unmatched, far and away better and stronger than the first, you begin the chants of begging for him to keep going, not to stop, that you’re so close — and through the crack of one eye opening, Minho looms over you from the side with such a sinful grin splayed across his features as he watches on.

 “You’re fucking her so good I think she might cry, Channie.”

 Leaning down to lie lengthwise with you, Minho presses his lips against the shell of your unoccupied ear, reaching a hand up to feather fingers over your forehead and brush stray hairs away from your sweat-covered forehead. “Can you take his load like a good girl for me? So I can fuck it into your messy little pussy when he’s finished with you?”

 The juxtaposition of the nastiness of the words with the softness of his tone sends you spiraling, walls gripping tight against Chan’s length as you nearly shriek in release through an otherwise clenched tight jaw. Growling into your ear at the feeling of you clamped down around him, his thrusts into you becoming sloppy and uncoordinated in an instant as his own orgasm rushes to him.

 “Oh love, you feel so good on me,” Chan whispers from beneath you through a shaky, orgasmic voice just as he fully buries himself inside of you in anticipation of his finish. “I’ll pump you so full of my cum, just how you like it, yeah?”

 You nod, knowing you not need to respond to it — feeling the initial expand and pulse of the mans cock as he does precisely what he says he will and empties himself deep into your cunt.

 Kissing along the side of your face and allowing the both of you some time to come down and back to earth, Minho still so cautiously and lovingly making himself present next to you — you rise and fall in tandem with the inhales and exhales of Chan beneath you as the both of you work to catch your breath.

 Of course, your primary partner has other, messier plans for you, however.

 “Think you’re ready for me, darling?” He whispers against the side of your face, teeth presented through the grin on his face — a devilish man with devilish plans that you’re more than happy to participate in.

 You nod in response, and Minho takes the opportunity to pull your limp, tired, and used body from the other man to lie you face first into the mattress, circling around behind you and pulling your hips up into position before him.

 “Color?”

 Still trying to catch your breath, Minho places a gentle hand at the small of your back, slowly and lightly rubbing up along the length of your spine and towards your shoulders before coming back down to the place in which he began. “Don’t rush, if you’re not ready we can slow down—”

 “No,” you huff, turning back to look towards him with a look that nearly asks if he’s fully out of his mind. “Just needed a second to catch my breath, I’m good, green.”

 “Yes, my love.”

 With how disheveled you look you think that perhaps another man be less willing to take your word for it, trust your judgment — Minho, however, in all of your years together more than happy to trust and accept you.

 The glide inside of you is easy this time — having already been fucked fully open and cummed in by Chan who still lie next to you and watching on with glee in his eyes — Minho only bothers to give you a passing moment before digging fingers hard into the dip of your waist and pulling you firm against his cock in full with a throaty, heavy groan.

 Crying out at the feeling of him, your own fingers digging into the sheets below you as he fucks you open all over again on his own dick, you stabilize yourself onto one side and against your shoulder so that you’re able to reach down and rub circles into your clit as he relentlessly fucks into your messy, used hole.

 “Feel good, baby?” Minho groans, settling into a quick pace against you from behind. “Tasting my cock wasn’t enough for you, huh? Needed to be filled up by me, too.”

 “She wants both of her boyfriends to come inside of her,” Chan adds from where you left him, head turned now to enjoy the display as it carries on next to him. “Fuck my load deep inside of her and fill her up again.”

 Whining loudly at the implications of the words, you grip harder into the mattress beneath you, only for Chan to reach one hand up and lace fingers between your own as you do.

 “Is that true?” Minho asks despite knowing the answer fully well. “So much of his cum has spilled out while I fuck you — so filthy and wet for us, but don’t worry, I’ll make a mess of your cunt all over again, love.”

 Circling harder and faster against yourself, the familiar coiling of orgasm creeping up a third time with the aggressive, rough pace that Minho fucks into you — he pauses briefly and much to your dismay — leaning forward and gripping into your hair with a fist again, yanking your head back and to the side to keep your eyes on him as he continues to chase his second high of the evening.

 “Look at me while I fuck you,” he finally demands through gritted teeth — a tough, domineering side of him that you don’t often see but quite enjoy as a treat from time to time. Tone dropping to sound so much deeper than before, your walls pressing down around his cock as his hips meet your own with constant succession. “Whose is it? Tell me whose it is.”

 “F-fuck, Minho—”

 “Tell me. Say it.”

 “Yours, it’s yours!”

 “That’s right, that’s such a good girl. Pussy made especially for my cock, so I’ll fuck it when and how I want, right?”

 The dirty talk doing all of the work of bringing you to the edge of an orgasm that you otherwise weren’t sure of your ability to find, you pull your eyes briefly to Chan as he gazes upon you with nothing but love and respect gracing his features.

 You couldn’t be luckier with the two men you ended up with.

 “You better answer him, darling. You know he won’t let you come if you don’t.”

 Squeezing your eyes shut as your release looms — thighs shaking at the relentless pace in which Minho slams into you to chase his own high — nodding quick against the mattress, you devolve into babbling and begging all over again with the threat of orgasm teetering on the edge.

 “Yes, yes! Minho, please—”

 Grinning, the mans grip into your hair tightens only briefly with the oncoming full, hard snaps of his hips against you to pull the release from you. “That’s right baby, come on my cock too and I’ll give you what you want.”

 Coil snapping in your gut, it’s a near silent shriek that the man elicits from you after all of the events of the evening — mouth hung open and feeling the loving comfort of your boyfriend already spent and to the side as he softly squeezes your hand — shortly after you begin yours, Minho follows right after. Two, three more drives into you and burying deep into your guts as he paints your insides with his cum now, the man pulls from you only seconds later with only the tip of himself still nestled inside of you as he strokes the wet, exposed, length of his cock — milking himself of the majority of his load before fucking it back into you hard with a few more rough, full drives into your soiled, messy hole.

 With a sudden, floppy drop, Minho finds himself laid out on the other side of you now, chest heaving just as Chan’s had been not too long before and plenty spent from the full itinerary of the evenings activities. Glancing over at him through a barely cracked open eye, you’re happy to find a wide, fucked-stupid smile sprawled across his lips.

 A job well done, and evening gone off without a hitch.

 “Should I run the shower?” Chan asks, having had the time to recuperate while the two of you tired yourselves out entirely in the meantime. With Minho entirely unable to respond, you turn to cast your eyes upon your thoughtful, caring, partner.

 “Put the kettle on first? I want to have an evening coffee.”

 “Of course.”

 Turning to face you, Minho finally attempts to speak through a dry throat. “Coffee this late? What are you, some kind of heathen?”

 Playfully slapping his thigh, you lean in to press a kiss onto his mouth, but with his hand reaching up and to the back of your head — the intimacy of it deepens unexpectedly, but pleasantly all of the same as you melt into it and the love that he offers you.

 “I love you so much,” he finally whispers against your dry, bitten lips. The sparkle in his eye all the more telling of his adoration for you than any words could ever hope to match. “You’re amazing. Perfect.”

 “I love you, too.” You respond back to him, just as Chan reenters the room — the sound of the shower running only just down the hall.

 The both of you looking up and towards the still naked man in the doorway opening, he begins to tell you that the kettle is on and the water running, only to be cut off abruptly by a simultaneous offering from the partnership still sprawled out on the bed in front of him.

 “We love you.”

 It takes him a moment to process the words despite it not being the first time he’s heard them, and as a big smile takes his face with signature dimples present, he presses hands into his hips and cocks his head to the side playfully, as if completely taken by the thoughtful offering.

 “Well damn, I love y'all too.”

 Stepping towards the bed and offering each of you a hand, Chan helps hoist the both of you to your feet, keeping said hands held firmly inside of his own for just a tad bit longer than really necessary.

 “Let’s get washed up, and get you that coffee, eh?”

 “Yeah, lets.”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ hope you enjoyed! please check out my navigation for more (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)

—this is a oneshot, there will be no part 2.

[rbbrbikerthorp]

From Work Stressed to Smoking Skinhead

[Initially, I’d intended this to be a one-off story, but the set-up has taken so long that there’s going to have to be a second part. Enjoy!]

I’m Gaz, I’m 31. I’m a skinhead. In the picture you can see what I look like, now that my new m8s have transformed me, and have made me unrecognisable from the person I once was.

But, I’m getting ahead of myself. Before I forget who I was, let me tell you about how I came to be here. I had a job that some would describe as being a stressful way to earn a living. I was one of those office drones who chased figures every month. As part of my job, I was required to travel, often several times a week; this could be to London, Birmingham, Edinburgh, or where-ever our customers were based. In preference to sitting in traffic on the motorway, taking the train was the stress-free way to travel. It meant I could use the time to check reports or presentations and, on the way, home I’d catch up on any emails that needed dealing with.

So, this one day when my life changed forever, I had a table seat booked on the 6:40am to London, but when I looked at the departure board and saw the word every traveller dreads, ‘cancelled’ was posted against my train. So like dozens of other passengers heading for the capital on that day I was told to catch the next train. When I climbed on board, I realised the train was already very crowded. I’d struggle to get any seat, let alone find a table seat. I walked through three carriages, but there was no empty seats. Just as I was about to accept that I’d be standing in the vestibule, I heard, “Oi, fella...” a voice. Was that aimed at me?

I turned around. “Here fella, the window seat is free”. So, he was talking to me. I was so grateful for the offer of the seat that, other than his shaved head, (which is normal for many guys these days), At this point I hadn’t taken much notice of him. I thanked the shaved headed guy then I got my laptop out of my bag, which I put up on the luggage rack. Then I took off my jacket hung it on the peg next to the window and plonked myself down in the seat. Very quickly I was lost catching up on a report I needed to finish.

As soon as the train departed, I heard the familiar sound of cans being opened and the familiar smell of beer, which wasn’t that appealing at this time of day. “You look really stressed mate. You should have one of these.” 

I looked up watch, it was just after seven in the morning, “er, what?” I asked. It was then that I realised I was looking at a guy with a completely shaved head, wearing what I thought was a black polo shirt and green kind of bomber jacket.

“You heard. Do yer want a can, a beer?” it was a different voice. I looked up from my screen to see another guy with a shaved head. He was holding out a can of beer, one I didn’t recognise. “I’m Sam by the way.” That’s Billy already ‘on the pop’, and this”, pointing at a slightly older looking guy in the other aisle seat, “is Jimmy.”

“Oh, no thanks. I should have been on the earlier train, but it got cancelled. I didn’t think I’d get a seat on this train because it’s so busy. I’ve got a meeting that starts at 9:30 and I’ve got a report to prepare for it.”

Jimmy quickly chirped in, “Come on”, pulling the ring-pull, “that’s over two hours from now, here.” He grabbed my hand and gave me the can.

“No, honestly, it’s very kind of you, but I’ve...”

Sam interrupted, and I looked over at him. “Listen, I can see how stressed you are right now. I can see the sweat on yer top lip. You need to relax or yer gonna blow a fuse. I bet you’ll be talking bollocks all day in the hope of closin’ a sale or summit’. Chill m8, you can surely spare a few minutes to have a beer. And it would show us how much you appreciate us giving you the seat. Now, you know our names, tell us yours.”

Reluctantly, but out of politeness, I accepted the can. and said “Cheers. I’m Gareth  by the way, Gareth Fairburn” Not really sure why I included my surname. They all looked at me as I took my first swig of the beer, and coughed “Wow, that’s got a kick.”

“Yeah, but you’ll get used to it after a few swigs”, said Billy. “I fact I’m pretty sure it’ll be your drink of choice when we’re done with you.”

“You know this is very nice of you...” I said, about to get back to working my report. But before I could look down, I saw Jimmy’s hand reach across and shut the lid on my laptop. I could see letters on the knuckles and there was a bird tattoo on the back of his hand. “C’mon fella, put your work stress aside for a bit and have a natter with us while you sup your beer.” 

Jimmy read me like a book, I was stressed. I was on my way to see a key customer; one that knew how important they were to the business I worked for and would make me jump through hoops to get the contract renewed. I knew I had to finish the report because I’d promised to email it ahead of my meeting. I was thinking about looking for another seat, when Jimmy coughed to get my attention. I looked up at him; He had that rough but good-looking appearance. Until then, I hadn’t noticed the ink on his neck, it looked like some ancient design but I couldn’t really see it properly. It was the first time I noticed the rings in his ears too. He grinned at me. I watched him swig his beer from the can. At that point I knew wasn’t heading off to a stressful meeting. He wouldn’t be selling his soul to get a contract renewed.

Jimmy leaned forward and I could smell his smokey breath. “Right, let me tell you how it’s going to be Gaz, my boi. We’ll take your stress away, but before we can help you need to tell us about who you are and what you do. Got it?” 

Billy belched several times, The belches were so loud and the other people looked up from their laptops and tablets to see where the sound was . He slammed his empty can of beer down on the table in front of me. “So m8 what do you do?”

My heart was pounding; yet suddenly, I felt that a weight lifted from my shoulders. These guys had shown an interest in me. No one normally did that, not my boss, not my customers, not my family. They wanted to help with my stress. So, I took another swig from the can - I wondered whether people really like this taste? Anyway, I began telling them was a commercial development manager.  

“You in sales then Gaz?” Billy interrupted. 

“I guess you could put it that way,” I replied 

“Keep drinking mate, it’ll help yer stress go away for now.” I did as I was told and took another swig from the can Jimmy pulled another one out of the bag and pushed it towards me. “See, we’ve got plenty. And we want to help de-stress our new m8.”

I was about to take another swig of beer when I remember, “...ah, I’ve got to do this report, or I’ll be.”

Sam jumped in. “You’ve got plenty of time.” Like the other two, he had a shaved head, but he also had a gold ring in his nose, when he talked, I could see a stud in his tongue and there were tattoos in multiple places.

“Yeah, Gaz plenty of time to do work boring shit...I bet you work all hours of the day and night. That’s why you get stressed.” 

I was about to say I did, but they spoke first. “Here you are Gaz, you can have another can with us. If you want, we can give you a stress-free life” 

“If only.” I sighed.

“Listen m8, we can make all those worries go away,” Sam was leaning up close to me now. 

I realised I was slurring my speech at this stage, “Please, my name is Gareth. Look, I’ve a lease on my flat, I’ve got car payments to make and I’m running an overdraft right now. I don’t think you can make that go away” I replied, feeling slightly sick at the amount of debt I was funding. 

“Don’t you fret about all of that,” The other two joined in, “let us take charge and your problems will be gone.” 

What could I say to that? So I smiled a knowing smile and thought I’d humour my skinhead m8s. Hemmed in the way I was, I couldn’t escape even if I wanted to. I don’t really remember too much more of the conversation as my three new m8s plied me with beer; but it was me talking and they were listening. At the time I didn’t realise they were that whilst I was taking relatively big gulps of beer, they were only taking small sips from their own cans.

An announcement came on the tannoy to say the next stop would be Doncaster. Jimmy piped up, “Right lads, we’re here. Gaz, get up and we’ll show you how to live stress-free.” Through my haze, I didn’t really know what was going on. Then all of a sudden, I felt someone grab my arm, pulling me out of the seat. I was about to get my stuff when Billy came really close to me and said, “Come on Gaz, we gotta go. Now!” 

“Why do they insist on calling me Gaz?” I wondered

“[Burp] Hang on guys my name’s Gareth, and I’m going to a mee...” I was cut short by Billy again. “You’re meeting has just been cancelled, so you’re gonna be spending the day taking it easy with us. And we’re calling you Gaz, so get used to it. Let’s go.”

“What about my stuff?” I was trying to pull back so that I could grab my bag, coat and laptop. But Billy and Sam pulled me along the carriage. I tried to pull in the opposite direction, the direction of my belongings, but they were too strong for me. I had allowed myself to be marched off the train by two of my three new skinhead m8s who were going to ‘help me’ get rid of all my anxieties. 

Once off the train, I turned around to hear the audible warning that the doors were about to close started, I was watching the train doors slide into the closed position when Jimmy came up to me holding a lit cigarette. 

Blowing the smoke in my face, he spoke with reassured confidence. “The train’s departing and as you watch it leave, think this: with it goes your old life. With it goes all of your stresses and problems.” I watched the train pull out of the station, and he was right, on board were all my possessions, including my wallet and phone. I was about to panic, but Billy and Sam were beside me, holding me. Jimmy offered me a cigarette to which I declined. He came into my face and said, “take it,” he ordered. “It’s the first step to getting rid of all that stress. We’re m8s. If yer m8s smoke, then you smoke!”

I was still under the influence of whatever beer I’d been drinking, so gingerly I took the cigarette, but I didn't know how to hold it. Billy got his lighter out and lit it. “Put it between your lips and start sucking Gaz.” So, I sucked in as the flame touched the end of the cigarette. My fingers, clamped on the little cigarette, which, as you would expect for a novice was poorly positioned in my mouth. The smoke, ashy and light, filled my mouth, made my eyes water. I coughed on every drag, even though I barely inhaled. My three skinhead m8s were beside themselves with laughter. I noticed passengers gathering for the next train, and I heard them comment about smoking being banned in stations, but new m8s didn't care. Once I’d finished the first cigarette, Jimmy handed me another. “Right, here’s what you do. Put the cigarette between your lips. When I light it, gently suck the smoke - nice ‘n’ steady into your lungs.”

I gave it a go and found this time I wasn’t spluttering everywhere. 

Jimmy continued, “now hold the smoke in yer lungs, and breathe in through your mouth.” I did as I was instructed. Jimmy reached into the pocket of his green jacked, as he was pulling out the contents, he said, “these are yours now. If we are going help alleviate you of your work stress you need to get through these. When you’ve finished that one, light up another.”

It wasn’t a request; it was an instruction.

Sam, who’d been talking on his phone during this time chipped in, smiling at me, “nice one m8, you’ll be smoking twenty a day before you know it.” 

I just nodded, not taking much notice of what was going on as I tried to master smoking a cigarette.

Sam turned to the other two skinhead, “Tony said he’s got no appointments this morning and he can be at the studio in ten minutes. It will take us about that long to walk there with Gaz, even in the state he’s in.” 

Hearing my name, piqued my interest in their conversation, “wh... wh. where ere are we going?”

Billy jumped in, “we’re taking you to another m8′s gaff. His work is transformative. In no time at all your work worries will be a faded memory.”

Sam has started sniggering, so had Jimmy, but then he managed to say, “Before we can go to Tony’s studio, we need to stop off with Gaz at the house. Let’s get a move on, we’ve a lot to do.”

[strawberryspence]

i am in a very emo mood right now so here’s a disclaimer: i cried writing this and its very long.

Steve and Eddie have been together for seventeen years now. Both are very happy with their relationship, they’ve been engaged since they were twenty three and they haven’t looked back since. Gay marriage is legal by then in some parts of the country but not in Illinois (They’ve been living in Chicago since ‘87 when Robin started college and Steve packed up all of their stuff to follow her.) It’s not something they actively seek out, because would marriage really change anything in their relationship? They already refer to each other as husbands and they already wear wedding bands.

But kids. God, Eddie never really thought he would want kids. He grew up in an abusive environment that made him hate the prospect of procreating. At the age of thirteen, he realized he was gay and yeah, that was it, he won’t have kids, ever. But when he met Steve, Steve already had seven kids under his arms. Everyone knew about the six nuggets dreams and it’s always been a source of insecurity from Eddie, but Steve has been adamant that he didn’t need those things, he only needed Eddie. He jokes around about it, “I already have seven kids, okay? Eight if you add Robin.”

‘99 brings the first member of the Party 2.0. It’s Max and Lucas, of course, and though it was a long road to it, they made it. Max and Lucas are the two that moved out to California for college, but then moved back to Chicago to stay close to them. Eddie thinks it’s an unspoken agreement between Steve and Max, siblings bonded by trauma and love. They got married around ‘95, just a few months after Max and Lucas graduated college. Four years later, Eddie won’t ever forget Steve’s shaking hands when Max hands him Eleanor May Sinclair for the first time, her little tiny hands holding onto his finger as Lucas tells him that he was going to be the godfather. Steve smiles down at the tiny little red head, with her father’s eyes and her mother’s freckles and promises, “I am going to spoil you rotten, you’re going to hate it.”

‘01 brings the second member of the Party 2.0. It’s Jonathan and Nancy, who didn’t get married until around ‘98 because they were both too focused in their blooming careers. By then everyone had bets on how much longer before the two finally give in and get married, Argyle wins the biggest money and they still think there has been some kind of cheating. It’s a cold winter night when Nancy goes into labor. Steve and Eddie (with Robin, Max, Lucas and Ellie) takes the next flight to New York from the moment Jonathan called them that Nancy’s going into labor. Robin’s hailed as the godmother, because the skittle six all stayed close friends but there has always been some kind of women solidarity between Nancy and Robin. Eddie has to hold Steve’s hand when he starts crying when Nancy tells them her name, Barbara Arya Wheeler-Hopper. Nancy smiles at him, eyes glassy from exhaustion and emotions, as Steve holds her for the first time, voice shaking as he finally meets her, “Hi Barb.”

In the same year, the third member of the Party 2.0 is born. It’s Dustin and Suzie. That one was a looong story. After the Vecna fiasco of Spring and Fall of ‘86 (where they finally killed Vecna and closed the Upside Down for good), Suzie and Dustin broke up due to some miscommunications and because her father has been much more stricter after the Cali gang's visit. By chance, they meet again in MIT in ‘89 and remained friends for another two years (In Steve and Eddie’s dismay this led to long hours of telephone calls from Dustin pining over his ex-girlfriend-now-turned-bestfriend) before they finally got their act together when Dustin drunkenly proposes to Suzie (they don’t get married until ‘96). Steve and Eddie has come down to California about a week before Suzie’s expected labor day for moral support and just to help. Suzie goes into labor in a grocery store with Steve, while they were out buying peppers to induce labor. Steve has to drive them frantically to the hospital while a chill Suzie drinks her strawberry milkshake in the passenger seat. After 36 hours of labor, Edward Stephen Henderson was born. Eddie’s the one who cries more when Dustin announces the name, he’s also the first one in the party to hold the newborn. Eddie smiles down at Edward, laughing as he looks up at Steve, “I will do everything in my power so that you won’t end up with your father’s ego.” Cue Dustin’s protests in the back and Suzie laughing so hard she pops a stitch. Steve’s hand on his waist doesn’t leave even for a moment the whole night.

By ‘02 Max is pregnant again, Robin and Vickie’s adoption papers were processing and El’s been looking into Artificial Insemination. Will and Mike are the only two who doesn’t seem interested in having kids and are happy to just be the gay uncles that shower the kids with expensive ass gifts.

Steve’s hiding it well, Eddie will give that to him. Steve’s always been good with kids, always had that glow whenever he's around them and there is no doubt in Eddie's mind that his husband will be a wonderful, amazing father. It also helps mask the baby fever he’s had for about four years now since Ellie was born. Eddie doesn’t miss the melancholic looks he gets when it's time for Max to take Ellie home or the look he gets when they visit Barb and they have to say goodbye to her big brown eyes. Eddie knows his husband has wanted kids for as long as the’ve been together, but doesn’t say anything for his sake. So he takes a long look at his life. Does he want kids? Does he want to come home with kids in the house? Could he ever be even a sliver of the father that Steve was born to be? Would he be anything like his biological father?

He calls Wayne, talks to him for hours about every fear and doubt he has. He loves Steve so much and it hurts him to not be able to give this to him just because he’s being a coward again. Wayne soothes every shaking nerve in his body, and Eddie thinks, he’ll be fine. He’ll be fine because he wasn’t raised by John Munson, he was raised by Wayne Munson.

He’s done so much research about gay adoption that he has to hide the thick folder under a loose floor in their shared office, just so Steve can’t find it. He wants to be ready for this before he talks to Steve about it and by Christmas ‘02, he’s ready.

Its the quiet lull just before Christmas. The tree is decked out with numerous gifts, the house full of fairy lights (fairy lights they made sure would never blink), outside it just started snowing. In 24 hours, the house would be full with their family coming from different states to celebrate the holiday with them. Steve's wrapping the last few gifts, hot choco on his side when Eddie sits across him on the floor, handing him the thick folder.

Steve opens the folder with a bewildered look, his face shifting to shock in seconds. Steve looks up at Eddie with teary eyes, "Before you say that you don't need kids because I don't want kids, hear me out, okay?" Eddie reaches out for his hand, "I do want kids. I want kids with you. I've had kids with you since '86 when Dustin and Max decided to look for me. I've always wanted kids with you. I was... I was just scared that I'd end up like my dad, you know?" Steve sighs, hand tightening in his grasp, "Eds."

Eddie shakes his head, "Wait, I am not done. I talked to Wayne, you know? And I thought about it and I want kids with you, Steve Harrington. In any shape or form. If you don't want it right now, we can put a pin on it and if you tell me you never want it, then we forget this conversation ever happened. We could adopt, we could get a surrogate, hell, if I can get pregnant I will do it, sweetheart. I want a kid that's half you and half me and that might not ever be possible but we can raise and love a kid together and that'll be just as good." Steve's smiling now, tears still flowing from his face as Eddie cups his face, using his thumbs to swipe away the tears.

"So what do you want, baby?" Eddie smiles as Steve starts laughs, nodding. "Yeah, yeah, I want a kid with you. Fucking hell, Eds." Steve hops up, tackling Eddie into a hug and showering him with kisses. They stay like that for an hour, just soaking in the pure adoration and love they feel for each other.

It's not until October '05 that their kid comes home. Elijah Syl Harrington-Munson was a 6 month old boy. Steve cries the first time he holds him as Eddie embraces him, Elijah holding his index finger in his tiny palm.

"Stevie, he has your hair." Eddie comments and there's no hint of joke or trick in his voice, just full of awe and Steve just cries even more.

When Elijah finally opens his eyes, Steve can't help the tenderness that bursts through him, "Eddie, Eds, he has your eyes."

Elijah's not a Harrington-Munson in blood, but he's Steve and Eddie's son through and through. And yeah, Elijah grows to have the same brunette wavy hair, styled just like his Dad's and the same brown doe eyes just like his Pa's. Sometimes, he sits in the living room as he reads a thick book with a basketball game playing on the background, Steve and Eddie thinks he's always meant to be theirs.

They adopt more kids. Not six because fuck no. But they do have their three nuggets, half Steve Harrington and half Eddie Munson and he won't ever have it any other way.

[topguncortez]

Brosectomy - J. Seresin

pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x shy!wife characters: Javy "Coyote" Machado x OC!Wife (Valerie), Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Robert "Bob" Floyd, Alex Seresin, Ella Seresin, Eli Seresin, Natasha "Phoenix" Trace warnings: vasectomy, crude language (?), Jake and Javy are dramatic, Jake post-surgery word count: A/N: I saw these tiktoks about Link and Rhett's brosectomy, and now here we are:) And here's a little break from all the whump

|| masterlist || Opposites Attract World || library page ||

When Jake and Y/N found out they were expecting not one, but two children, Jake knew that it was time to get a vasectomy. Y/N had mentioned getting her tubes tied after Eli, but Jake didn't want her to make a decision that would be so permanent when they weren't sure if they were totally done having kids. He also didn't want her to have an extra surgery that would take her longer to recover from, when he could get a local anesthetic and be done within an hour and be able to run after the kids that same day.

Jake wanted to wait until at least after the twins were born to get the surgery, wanting to make sure that he would be able to help. But then he changed his mind when Coyote explained he was also looking into the surgical option.

Coyote and his wife Valerie had three kids under the age of three, and were done for the time being. And Jake couldn't blame them. He was happy that him and Y/N had spaced their kids out by three years.

Y/N and Valerie were sitting in the kitchen as their kids played together. Y/N was the closest with Valerie out of all the wives/partners of the group. She had known her the longest and was Alex's godmother. Y/N felt like she was ready to pop being nearly seven months pregnant with the twins. Valerie was in the middle of telling some story about her oldest girl, Jenna face planting down the stairs when Jake walked in.

“We’re getting a brosectomy,” Jake announced and opened the fridge to get a water out, handing one to Coyote who trailed in behind him.

“A what?” Y/N asks, turning to face the boys.

“A brosectomy,” Coyote repeats.

“Got that, Javy… what exactly is that?” Valerie asks.

“A vasectomy with the bros,” Jake smiles, “Val, Javy here tells me that you two have talked about him getting the ol snip, and well if i even mention having another baby, this missus right there looks ready to commit murder.” Y/N and Valerie shared another look at Jake’s explanation, “So why not go through this stage of life with your bro. Javy and I have done damn near everything together.”

“What brings two guys closer than cutting your swimmers off,” Javy shrugs.

“The two of you literally fly death machines together,” Y/N pointed out, “But I mean… it’s your bodies, your choices.”

“I agree with Y/N. At least a vasectomy is reversible if we want more kids,” Valerie said. Jake gave Y/N a look and wiggled his eyebrows up and down.

“Don’t even think about it Seresin, five is enough,” Y/N said pointing a finger at him, and if as right on que, three blonde haired Seresin children came running in, followed by three dark haired Machado children.

"How fast can you get this appointment?"

Jake got the appointment very quickly. Having already researched an arsenal of surgeons in the area, him and Coyote chose one that they both liked, and made appointments for as soon as possible. They schedule time off work, the doctor recommended at least 10 days totally off work and another week or so of no flying. Jake thought he was going to die not being able to fly for three weeks, but he told himself it was a small price to pay compared to the intensive labors Y/N had gone through.

Phoenix was watching the Seresin kids as Y/N sat in the small room with Jake. He was cursing up a storm about having to wear the hospital gown, but Y/N found it hilarious. She had become a near expert about hospital gowns and always came prepared. Jake climbed up on the small exam table with a sigh, and Y/N giggled.

"You think this is funny?" He said looking over at her, "Some doctor is about to come in here and cut my balls off."

"Okay, you are not a dog," Y/N said rolling her eyes, "And it's just a clip on the-"

"I know, I remember the video," Jake shuddered. He waited a moment before looking over at his pregnant wife, "Is it weird to be sad?"

"No, I don't think it's weird," Y/N said, and leaned over the best she could to run her fingers through his hair, "It's a big thing. It's a life changing thing, really. Means no more babies," She looked down to her very round stomach.

"It's really the end," Jake sighed, "But it doesn't mean we still can't practice." He gave her that classic Hangman smirk and wink.

"Once you start shooting blanks, we can," Y/N sat back in her chair as there was a knock on the door. She smiled as Jake's doctor and Coyote came trailing into the room, "Doctor Miller."

"Y/N, Jake, you ready for this?" Doctor Miller asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Jake sighed and shifted on the exam table, "Give me the ol' snip, doc!"

"I think that's my cue to leave," Y/N giggled. Coyote helped her stand up from the chair and gave her a kiss on the cheek, "Val already out there?"

"Yep, so is Bob, Rooster, Payback and Fanboy," Coyote said and Y/N gave him a questioning, "Moral support."

"Oh good god, you would think you two are about to have brain surgery with the dramatics," Y/N rolled her eyes, "I'll see you in an hour," Y/N said to Jake and he nodded, "I love you."

"I love you too," Jake said and kissed his wife.

Y/N said a goodbye to Coyote and Doctor Miller before going out to the waiting room with Valerie. She sighed as she sat down next to the woman.

"We are married to two of the most dramatic men I have ever met," Valerie joked.

"Their mothers deserve an award," Y/N smiled.

It was nearly an hour later when Doctor Miller came out to tell the two wives that their husbands surgeries were complete and they were in recovery. Y/N waddled her way down to the recovery room that Jake was in. She giggled at the look on his face and the ice pack pressed to his groin area.

"I'm glad you find my pain funny," Jake slurred.

"I'm sorry, baby," Y/N said and walked over to her husband. Jake sat up a bit and put his hands on either side of growing belly.

"I did this cause I am a true man and true men do this for their wives," Jake said to her bump. Y/N had to bite back her laughter, "Even if one of you are, or both of you, are girls, you make your man get the cut. Or if you are boys, you get the cut for your wives."

"Okay Mister True Man," Y/N said and Jake looked up at her eyes. His pupils were slightly dilated, probably from the pain meds he was given. He had a lazy smile on his face as he leaned up to kiss his wife, "How are you feeling?"

"Amazing," He sighed and laid back on the bed, "Javy saw my dick, said you're a lucky woman."

"Oh my god," Y/N blushed.

"You are! The luckiest, ever. And now we can fuck all the time and not have to worry about kids. Even though they are a blessing and I love them so very much. We can raw dog it all the time now," Jake gave his wife a lazy smirk and she shook her head, "What!? You like it when I hit it raw." He reached down and grabbed his wife's ass making her squeal.

"Jacob Thomas Seresin!"

[ficsforeren]

rockstar eren always treats reader so sweetly in bed but what if one day he's so drunk he starts to degrade her in bed?

answering all these asks with a filthy smut (I'm so sorry)

WC: 4K

Warnings: Somnophilia, unprotected sex, having sex while being recorded, degradation, blow job, basically just eren fucking his FWB while he's drunk (and half-asleep) so he gets very rough and demanding in bed

AN: This takes place after Chapter 11 of The Last Song (so they haven't confessed yet) but you don't have to read the series cause this is just porn.

Poster art by the most talented @rainbuniart (follow her on Twitter)

Eren doesn’t realize this, but he’s much more animalistic in bed when he’s half asleep and drunk out of his mind.

You just discovered that this morning—seven months after your friends-with-benefits relationship with him started. You’ve had sex with him more than you could count, and yet, somehow, he still managed to surprise you.

Let’s take you back to the beginning.

It was your typical Sunday morning, nothing odd about it. Your legs were tangled with his underneath the sheets, your body still nude from the three rounds you did with him last night—one on the kitchen counter, one on the coffee table, and the last one right here in the bedroom.

You had your cheek and your chest pressed against the wall behind your bed frame, your stomach plastered against the headboard, and your knees shaking above the silky sheets as they tried to hold your entire weight, matching his every thrust. He was rough and fast and merciless, driving you further against the wall with your hands bound behind your back with his tie. It was his payback from the time you'd tied him up after the gala. Eren was holding back at first, afraid that he'd hurt you but when you gasped out, "Harder. Fuck me harder, Ren, please," with a sense of urgency that set his heart ablaze, he snapped, growing more ferocious with his thrust and you loved every fucking second of it.

The ticking clock on your wall showed that it was seven past eight in the morning. You and Eren had only been getting two hours of sleep, your bodies still exhausted after your late-night—actually, early-morning—activities. Eren was still sleeping on his stomach with his arms folded underneath your pillow, his face half-buried in it with his lips slightly parted to release his breath. He barely makes any sound or movement when he sleeps, and that morning was no exception. Similar to you, there wasn’t a single layer of cloth covering his body, except for the blanket that draped low over his hips. His backside, shoulders, and upper arms were exposed, wonderfully so, and you took as much time as you wanted to marvel at them. Even when his muscles were relaxed, his body was still a sight to behold.

You were still tired but you forced yourself to wake up. This was the opportunity you had been waiting for and you weren't planning to miss it. It was a rare thing for you to be able to climb down the bed without him realizing it. Usually, even if he was in a deep sleep, he would still notice when you tried to disentangle yourself from him. He would wrap his limbs tighter around your body, groaning in his sleep as a sign of protest when he felt you moving, croaking out, “Stay.”

Cuddling was nice, especially when your, uh… fuck-buddy was this warm. But the thing was, you’d been wanting to take pictures of him sleeping for, well, your personal collection, so to speak. It was endearing, you thought, the way he looked when he was sinking deep in his slumber. The way he seemed so unguarded, his frown disappearing, his face looking youthful, embodying the innocence of a child. His beauty intensified. You wanted to, at least, have a photo of him like this.

So, once you’d dressed in nothing but his sweater, your teeth still tasted like your minty toothpaste from two hours ago, you grabbed your phone and turned on your camera. You took pictures of his face, silently giggling to yourself. “So cute,” you mumbled, satisfied with your close-up shots. Feeling a bit naughty, you decided to step it up a notch. “God, I’m such a pervert for doing this.” But you couldn’t help it. With a slide of your thumb on the screen, you changed it to video mode. “Please, don’t wake up,” you whispered before you pressed the button. It started recording.

You tried to make excuses in your head so you wouldn’t feel too guilty about it. When he goes on tours, this will help me remember him, you told yourself numerous times, no matter how stupid it sounded. God, he’s definitely going to delete this if he finds out.

But you didn’t stop, not now, when you were already this far. Carefully, you sat on your heels right beside his sleeping form. You aimed the camera to his face, reaching out your fingers to carefully brush his long hair to the side. He seemed a bit feminine when his hair wasn’t tied in a bun, but only because he was so beautiful to begin with.

Eren moved lightly in his sleep and you held your breath, praying that he wouldn’t wake up. When he didn’t, you continued further south, recording the way his strands brushed against his neck, the dip between his shoulder blades and—

A set of long fingers curled themselves around your wrist and you lost grip of your phone. As it fell to the bed, Eren flipped himself to his back and yanked you forward until you were sitting on his stomach. “Eren—” Your eyes widened in shock—and horror—when you caught a pair of jade green eyes—still hazy from sleep—staring into yours. “I—I can explain.”

But you didn’t need to as he wouldn’t be able to comprehend your words anyway. He was still half-asleep, terribly so, though his grip around your wrist would speak otherwise. “What are you… doing..?” He husked, sounding almost incoherent from how much he slurred his words.

“Nothing,” you softly replied, casting him a sweet smile. “Go back to sleep, baby.”

And he did. As easy as that, which was both a relief and a surprise. His grip around you loosened until his hand landed back on the bed. He waned back into his dreamland, body relaxing once more.

Heaving a sigh, you thanked the Lord for letting yourself get away with this. You were about to crawl away from him when you noticed one thing.

Eren was hard.

His cock was springing back to life like it did every morning but not once had you ever gained enough interest to do something about it. Usually because a) you tend to wake up late so you rushed yourself to the bathroom to get ready for work, or b) Eren already took advantage of you in your sleep by pressing your legs tightly together and sliding his dick between your supple thighs until he came all over your stomach (this would usually end up with you kicking him out of bed in anger and him making you breakfast featuring his signature fluffy scrambled eggs to make up for his indecency).

Right now, though… Right now you wanted to do something about it.

It was a bit frightening, the way you felt so naughty that day. It was like you were possessed because normally, you wouldn’t do such a thing. You wouldn’t place your phone on the nightstand, aiming the camera toward the bed, and press record so you can videotape everything that was going to happen. And knowing the filthy thoughts that swirl inside your head, something bad was definitely going to happen.

It would just be for my collection, you tried to reason with yourself. I’ll let him know about this, and if he hates it, we’ll delete it. No one else has to find out.

Okay, I’m doing this.

You settled yourself between his legs, taking a hold of his length with one hand. You stroked him lightly and he didn’t lift a muscle. You tentatively gave him a lick, waiting for a reaction but it never came. I hope I’m not going to hell for this, you thought as you swirled your tongue around his tip. You had your eyes closed, taking a deep breath through your nose before you went further down on him. You tried to cover everything to his base, almost gagging when you felt him hitting the back of your throat. Eren was big but he felt bigger inside your mouth. Heavy. Giving up, you released his cock with a pop. Right at that moment, a hand landed on your head.

“Don’t stop,” Eren’s voice echoed deeply, and without waiting for you to react, he pushed you down by the back of your skull, lifting his hips at the same time to shove himself up to the hilt.

“Mmph!” Tears were prickling at the corners of your eyes by his third thrust. You choked around him, gasping when he finally released you, coughing a few times with thick ropes of saliva dribbling down your chin.

Eren didn’t waste time. He threw you down to the bed, your face sinking on the softness of your pillow. He tossed the blanket to the side, pushing the hem of your sweater—his sweater—to the middle of your back to expose your behind. “Eren—” Grabbing you by the legs, he yanked you toward him until he had his cock rubbing against the crease of your ass. He curled his fingers around his cock which was still moist from your saliva. “Wanna fuck you,” he slurred, slapping the side of his length against your cheek. You were tensed but he didn’t notice. He barely noticed anything. Right now, he just felt like he was dreaming.

Eren pushed it in, making your breath hitch in your throat, your fingers fisting against the sheets. He was stretching you out in a way that would've been painful if you hadn't been with him a few hours ago.

He didn’t make any sound during the first few thrusts, and you tried to muffle yours by sinking your teeth hard against your lower lip. His moves were out of rhythm, sometimes fast sometimes slow, sometimes deep, sometimes shallow, but that was exactly what drove you insane. He was unpredictable and never gentle. Not like how he usually held you, as he was still too drowsy to care. You wondered if he had always wanted to fuck you like this, to lose control and focus on what made him feel good instead of devoting himself to grant you your pleasure. Because even though he had been rough with you several times before, he was never like this. The thought of it didn't scare you. It only sent more thrill coursing through your veins.

“Tight,” he grunted, his nails sinking into the supple skin of your ass, spreading your cheeks apart. "So fucking tight." He spread his palm and smacked you hard, causing your body to jolt in surprise. The stinging pain felt like a zap of electricity and you loved it. He slapped your ass again, rolling his hips as he did, half-lidded eyes observing the way his cock slid in and out of you as your body shuddered with each spank. When your skin was bruised like a canvas being painted angrily by a deranged artist, he shifted his hands to the curves of your hips, holding you firmly with both hands and leaving no room for you to escape as he plunged himself into you with more force. You were gritting your teeth to contain your moans before, but now your mouth was separated in a silent scream, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix dangerously.

Fuck, he's so deep, you whimpered, your arms shaking as they support your body.

“Your cunt’s so fucking tight, goddamn.” You once thought that he sounded the sexiest when he was buried deep inside you, his mouth shaping filthy words against your ear. That was still true, of course, but now that you got to hear him like this, with this voice sounding ten times hoarser than ever and heavy from sleep, you needed to re-evaluate your statement.

Your thoughts were so occupied with the feelings of his cock rubbing against your walls, that you started to forget you were recording the whole thing. The shyness in you had melted off. Right now, they were only desperation, body aching to find your release.

Eren’s hand found your head and he pushed it down until you have your cheek pressed flat against the sheets. After doing this with him so many times, you already knew what to do. Keeping your upper half glued to the bed, you lifted your hips higher in the air, wanting to meet his every thrust. He thanked you by slapping his palm against your ass cheek again, loving the way your skin turned red in the shape of his hand. “Bounce back,” he said breathily, almost in a whisper as if he was talking to himself, “Bounce back on my fucking dick, baby, come on.”

You complied and he moaned, squeezing your behind with both hands as tightly as he could until you mewled from the sensation. “Harder,” he commanded, spanking you again. “Fucking take that cock like you own it.”

He was never like this. Even in your dirtiest imagination, he wasn’t like this, which was why you didn’t know what to expect. All you knew was that everything he was doing right now turned you on.

When you moaned, his hips snapped harder and you knew, that you had the same power over him. Maybe, just like him, it was time for you to let loose as well. “Let me hear you,” you said between obscene moans, landing your palms on the sheets before you raise your upper half in the air, positioning yourself on all fours. “Tell me—ah—Tell me what you want to do to me.”

The sounds you were making… They were driving him insane. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, gathered it in a messy ponytail before he yanked your head back until your eyes were forced to stay glued to the ceiling. “Wanna fuck you until you're screaming my name,” he growled lowly right against your ear, his other hand squeezing your breast so tightly it was almost painful. "I want to feel your body break open around me." He was still ramming his hips against yours, your spine glued to his chest as he leaned forward. “Wanna fill you up with my cum until I see it dripping all over your thighs.”

He released your breast, moving his left hand to the front of your throat instead while keeping his right one around your hair. “W-what else?” You were getting choked, lightly at first, harder by the second. “Wanna make you my bitch,” he rasped, his nails digging into your skin. “Wanna make you my cumslut.”

You trembled. There was no way he would talk to you like that if he was fully awake. No. He respected you too much. But now that he was still half-dreaming, his mouth ran without a filter. It didn’t help that you both had too much alcohol before bed either, with Eren almost consuming half a bottle of gin himself.

“Yes, please…” You encouraged him, bucking your hips harder as you both moved back and forth. Everything felt so good that you could barely tell the difference whether you were on the verge of cumming or not. It just felt like you were already on the brink from the start. “Ren…”

“Jesus, fuck,” he moaned, shoving your face down to the pillow and holding you firmly by the nape. His hands found your hips again, fucking you deep and raw until your jaw grew slack on your face. “I fucking love it when you call me like that. Again, baby. Do it again.”

“Ren!” His powerful thrust made you cry out his name in a way you had never done before. It was embarrassing how fast you felt the knots in your stomach tautening in response. “Rennie—I’m close—”

“You wanna cum?”

“Yes—“ you sobbed out. “Yes, please—”

“Harder,” he emphasized with a drive of his hips. “Want you to fucking scream it out. Want everyone to hear how desperate you are for my cock.”

“I want to cum!” You’ve lost all sense of control. You were seeing stars behind your eyelids, the knots inside your stomach tightened and unfastened at once. “Please make me cum, Ren, I want it!”

And with his permission, you did, orgasm washing over you at once, your body convulsing in pleasure. “Ah, you’re cumming—” he shuddered, his hips turning erratic at the feeling of your walls fluttering around him. “Fuck, baby, I can feel it—“

Usually, Eren would slow down, letting you ride your orgasm until the tremors left your body but not right now. Not waiting for you to catch your breath, he whirled you around to your back. Eren grabbed you by your legs and spread them as wide as he could, holding your ankles high in the air. He positioned himself on his knees right before you, his thrusts turning shallow and fast—more desperate.

He then pressed your legs together, no gap between your thighs, making you feel even tighter than before. "Shit, you're so—" He tossed his head back as he finished his sentence with a grunt, drowning in rapture. The second he brought his gaze to your face again, you were almost burned by the intensity of it. With one arm hugging your thighs to his chest, he let your heels dangle on one shoulder. “No one could fuck you like this but me, you got that?”

You swallowed, your lungs starting to catch on fire from how breathless you were. “Y-yes.”

“Say it.”

“No one—” you flinched. With the angle he was going, he was grazing the right spot that made your toes curl. “N-no one could fuck me like this but you.”

“You’re mine.” His hand settled on your chest, kneading the soft mound.

“I’m yours—ah!” You yelped when he smacked your breast, but it wasn't from the pain. It was from the thrill of it all. You took a sharp breath when he held it firmly under his hand once more.

“Say it again.”

“I’m yours.”

Another smack and this time, you whimpered. His hand moved to take a hold of your jaw, forcing your mouth open. “Louder.”

“I’m yours!”

He switched position again, now placing your feet on his chest, creating space for harder, deeper penetration. “God, your fucking pussy feels so good.” Eren used you like a sex doll, treated you like a slave and you let him. “So fucking wet for me.” He curved his hips, making sure he hit that spot that made pretty tears fall from your eyes. “Touch yourself.”

Flustered, you did as he said, fondling your breasts with both hands.

“Keep your eyes on me.”

You gulped, squeezing your chest harder as you maintained eye contact. Eren’s gaze traversed your body, the usual adoration in his eyes was gone, replaced by bottomless desire. He supported himself with the heel of his palm resting against your collarbones, picking up his already rapid pace as he tightened his fingers around your throat.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he groaned, his voice obscene. “Tell me where you want it.”

“Inside—cum inside me—ah, Ren—”

Your moan of his name encouraged him and he went feral. He pushed your legs apart, your chests glued together as he smashed his lips hard against yours, tongue slipping in to taste the inside of your mouth. “Fuck, so good,” he panted, “You’re so good, baby girl—” Every pound of his hips knocked the air out of your lungs and you whimpered, fingers twisting against the sheets.

Eren cummed with his teeth sinking deep in the juncture between your neck and shoulder, growling like a fucking beast that he was as he muffled his groan. Bruises were forming on your hips, as well as the nasty bites on your neck and breasts. You were both breathing hard, your body cemented completely to the sheets underneath you with his chest resting on top of yours.

“God, baby…” he moaned, still rubbing his cock lazily against your insides. He pulled all the way back, enjoying the way his cum was seeping out of your hole and trickling down to the crease of your ass before it stained the sheets underneath. He then pushed it back in, making you keen as you both were still sensitive from the aftershock of your orgasm. For a moment, you both stayed still in that position, catching your breath.

Eren nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. “I’m sleepy...”

“Oh, are you now?” You snort, voice laced with amusement as you noted the differences in his behavior.

He nodded. “And hungry.”

“Once you've cummed, you’re always like this.” You tried to push him away by the shoulder. “Can you move?”

“No.”

“You're heavy.”

“I know.”

“Eren, I can’t breathe.” Only then did he shift to lay on his side, cuddling close to you until there wasn’t even an inch separating your spine and his chest. “Good. Now get your dick away from me.”

“No,” he mumbled, pressing his hips against yours and keeping his cock buried deep inside. "Let's stay like this."

“Are you kidding me?” There was no answer. Eren’s breathing turned slow, his cock still faintly throbbing inside you. “Don't go to sleep!”

“Sshh…” He painted a lazy kiss on your nape. “Give me a few minutes. I’ll fuck you the second it gets hard again.”

As tempting as that sounded, you kept trying your best to push him away but he didn’t budge. After a while, you gave up and stayed put.

Now that the room had returned to silence, you noticed your phone was still sitting on your nightstand. You reached out a hand, stretching it as far as possible to grab it. The phone, as expected, was still recording and you felt blood pooling on your face. You tapped your thumb on the screen and the video was saved in your gallery.

Swallowing thickly, you clicked play.

“Wanna make you my cumslut.”

“Oh, Lord,” you covered your face with one hand, still peeking at the video through your fingers.

“Please make me cum, Ren, I want it!”

“Okay, I’m deleting this.” You couldn’t handle it. Watching your body being bent in such an indecent way, hearing your mouth spouting out the words that normally you wouldn’t have the bravery to say��everything was too much. You hesitated, however, as it would probably be the only time he would fuck you like that.

Then a thought appeared.

And you smirked.

***

Eren sleeps till noon, and he only wakes up because he falls off the bed. He doesn’t bother to put on some clothes, simply steals the blanket away and drapes it down his body, all the way from his head down to his feet. The blanket is dragged across the carpeted floor as he makes his way toward the kitchen, hugging the thick fabric around him.

“Morning,” he mumbles, finding you sitting on the kitchen counter with a magazine in one hand and a cup of coffee in another. He still has his eyes squinted, trying to adjust from the sunlight that seeps through the window.

You almost laugh at the way he looks. “Are you still naked?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Can’t find my clothes.”

“You didn’t even bother to look, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, my head hurts. Do you have some aspirin?”

Shaking your head as you chuckle to yourself, you jump down to your feet and reach up to rummage through your top drawers. Eren steals your coffee from the counter, taking a sip as he moves toward the couch. He sticks out his tongue once the taste explodes in his mouth, “Bleh, too sweet.” Placing down the mug on the table, he lies down on his side on the sofa, curling up inside his blanket like a cocoon.

“What are you, a three-year-old?” You mutter as you approach him. "You look like a burrito."

"A sexy burrito?"

"Sure."

“Well, like I said,” he mumbles in a low groan, snuggling against the cushion. “My head hurts. Remind me not to drink too much next time.”

“I’ve got something to cheer you up,” you smirk, settling yourself down on the floor with your back leaning against the foot of your couch. You gather your phone in your hands, skimming through your gallery. Showing your sex tape to him is utterly mortifying, but you know he’s gonna feel much, much worse about it, knowing the nasty things he said in the video.

“Please don’t tell me it’s a dick pic of your ex,” he mutters, looking past your shoulder to catch a glimpse of your phone screen. “The last dick pic I found on your phone still traumatized me to this day.”

“Eren, that was your dick pic.” You roll your eyes.

“Lies. I know what my dick looks like. It's not that hideous. Also, I’ve never sent you any.”

You give him a look. “You really do the stupidest shit when you’re drunk, huh?” Not letting him say another comment, you play the video.

“Wanna make you my bitch,” his voice can be heard through the speakers. Eren’s eyes shoot wide open, sitting up on the couch so fast, he almost tumbles over. “Wanna make you my cumslut.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,” he’s panicking, his mouth spitting bullets as he attempts to snatch your phone away from your hands. Suppressing your laughter, you stand up on your feet, moving away from him. “Babe, hold on, what the fuck was that?!”

“That was you this morning,” you grin, turning up the volume.

“Want you to fucking scream it out. Want everyone to hear how desperate you are for my cock.”

“Oh my God.” He places both hands on his head, looking absolutely horrified. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God—”

“Chill, Ren.”

“How in the—why did I—" He almost dislocates his jaw. "I said that?! To you?!”

You’re chortling, having the time of your life. “Yes, you did. You said you wanted to make me your cumslut.”

“Oh my God.” He turns pale, looking like he’s seconds away from throwing up. “Jesus Christ, baby, I can't believe I said that to you. I'm so sorry.”

“Hey, don’t be.” You kneel before him, taking his hands away from his head and acting as serious as you can when you say, “I want to be your cumslut.”

Colors drain out of his face, except crimson that stays permanent on his cheeks. “Please don’t say that ever again.”

You feign disappointment, pouting at him as you bat your eyelashes like a child. “You don’t want me to be your cumslut, Rennie?”

"I—" He lets out a sharp breath, fixing his gaze on the ceiling as he can feel his face catching fire. “I literally can’t look at you right now.”

“Daddy."

"Stop."

"I want to be your cumslut.”

“Shut up.”

“I want to be your little bitch.”

“All right, that’s it.” You’re guffawing when he lifts and tosses your body over his shoulder. “We need to clean that filthy mouth of yours,” he grumbles, making his way to the bathroom.

"I've already showered."

"Don't care." He yanks on your shirt the second you’re placed back on your feet, your protest bouncing against the bathroom tiles before you sigh in defeat. “Do you want to erase the video?” You ask him as he works on your shorts. “I’m sorry I took it without permission. I would be completely okay if you want to erase it.”

“No,” he mumbles, pouting as he turns a shade redder. “Send it to me.”

***

[the-star-scribe]

For kinktober perhaps can we get a Sova x reader (she/her or they/them doesn't matter whichever you prefer) something in public a little risky and very messy? Maybe almost getting caught? I'll let you have your fun I'm excited to see what you come up with :)

oh yes i like this one 

Desperation | Sova

Summary: After being apart for some months, the where and when just didn't matter

Warnings: public sex, unprotected sex (use protection irl pls), use of a tie as a gag

With the situation between the Alpha Earth and Omega Earth heating up, it left very little free time between missions. Which meant no time to spend with Sova as a couple. Sure you and him would occasionally end up on the same mission together, but it's not you and him can go on a date in the middle of a gunfight. At best there was a kiss after the mission.

The first and second month were no problem. You're both mature adults and honestly have been too busy to really care about the lack of sex. The third month, it started to seep into your mind. You missed his touch, he missed yours. But again, too busy for anything. Fourth month, you started thinking about him while on missions. The way he always took his time to to thoroughly enjoy your body and make you feel good? You'd do almost anything for just a night with him.

It's seven months before you and him manage to be in the same city for longer than a few hours. By now, you've become antsy. And so has he. He may be incredibly disciplined and have a lot of self control, but he's still a man with needs. Needs he aims to meet in this very rare free day you both have.

Sova made reservations at a nice restaurant and booked a room at a hotel away from the other agents for you both. He underestimated exactly how much he missed seeing outside of a mission when he saw you in that dress.

"You look amazing, my love," He says, his keen eyes not leaving you for a second.

You smile, reaching up to kiss his cheek. "Not too bad yourself."

It's not very often you get to see Sova all dressed up in a suit, but when you do it's a sight you take in gladly.

Dinner went great. Conversation always flowed easily between you and him, laughter and smiles a common sight. The three glasses of wine were no detriment to that, only loosening up inhibitions. As in you admitting to wanting a short dinner to rush over to the hotel. Given that he spent dinner undressing you in his mind, imagining the different things he'd like to do to you, he shares in that want.

Before leaving, you go to the bathroom to fix your make-up, having accidently smudged your eyeliner a bit from laughing so much you teared up. Though apparently the task is taking too long, Sova knocking on the door.

You open the door, your smile knocked down seeing the look on his face. “We have another mission, don’t we?”

“Brimstone just called. We have an hour to get ready.” He slips past the door, closing it behind him.

“Damn it... Guess we won’t get that night in the hotel, huh?” 

He removes his suit jacket, putting it on the coat hook behind the door. “Not quite.”

“Oh? Here?” You ask, sounding surprised but your hands are already working on his belt.

It’s unlike him even considering the idea of fucking in some restaurant’s bathroom, but then again, sexual frustration can make a man desperate. And considering the seven months of nothing more than quick kisses and the hour you and him have before another mission, he’s very desperate.

He sits you on the edge of the sink, pushing your dress up to allow him access. His fingers find nothing as they go up your thighs. “No panties?”

“Couldn’t be bothered with them.”

His lips are on your neck as he pushes two fingers inside you, reveling in every sound you make. Normally, he’d take his time, make you cum once or twice before putting his cock inside you. But there’s no time for all that, just enough to make sure you’re wet enough for him.

You let his belt drop to the floor, unzipping his pants next. While you’re usually not very rushed in sex with him, tonight is a different story. You slip your hand behind the waistband of his underwear, taking his hard cock into your palm and stroking.

“I need you inside me.” 

“And I need to be inside you.” Sova grins, positioning himself between your spread legs.

There’s a moment of silence and stillness as he pushes himself inside you. The relief of finally being able to melt away the desperation making any other sensation that isn’t this fade away. His hands move to grip your ass, keeping you as close as possible to him. You both almost forget the setting, that is until muffled sounds of cheering seep through the door. Not that it makes either one of you care for the publicness of it all.

Sova is a cunning and calculated hunter. Doesn’t misstep. Doesn’t miss his target. Doesn’t rush through his aim. It’s an attitude he takes into the bedroom. His thrusts are usually slow, but deep and with strength behind them. But here in this restaurant’s bathroom, he’s less hunter and more animal. 

His hips slam against yours in a fevered pace, the sound muffled by the clothes you’re both still wearing. You know you’ll be sore later but with the way it feels like his cock is hitting into your ribs, you don’t mind. Nor do you mind the finger marks he’s going to be leaving on your ass from his tight grip.

“Fuck, Sova-” Your eyes roll back as a knot forms and tightens in your lower abdomen. 

He cuts you off with his lips for a messy kiss, partly because he simply wants to and partly because he can’t have you too loud. Can’t have you and him getting caught in act. 

However, you’re getting lost in the pleasure, making maintaining a kiss near impossible. His solution? Stuffing his tie into your mouth. It works, keeping your volume low enough to avoid detection.

“You look so pretty.” He says into your ear before he drags his lips down to your neck. Your suit covers you neck, no harm in leaving a mark or two, right?

As you start getting closer to the edge, a knock on the door makes you both freeze, your hearts pounding in your chests.

“Hello? Someone in here?” The voice on the other side asks, trying the doorknob with no avail.

“Yes, someone’s in here.” Sova responds, waiting a moment or two after the doorknob stills before returning to fucking you.

Checking his watch, the hour deadline he was given much closer than he would have liked. He shifts your position, pressing your legs towards you, changing the angle he’s fucking you in. The way your eyes grow wide and then roll back tells him he’s hit the spot he aimed for. He never misses, of course.

Tears start to well in your eyes from the amped intensity, the knot in the pit of your abdomen becoming almost impossibly tight. You’re not the only one close to coming, the way he’s begun to dig his face into your neck. The nips he gives on your skin tells you he’s not far behind you.

Your orgasm ripples through you, his name muffled by the tie. A shame considering how he does love hearing you say his name. His unrelenting pace falters as your body clench around his cock, dragging him over the same edge you fell from. His teeth sinks into your skin, though not enough to break skin, keeping himself moaning too loud as he pumps his seed into you.

You pull the tie from mouth, panting. “Fuck... We needed that.”

“We did.” He slides out of you, allowing himself a moment of indulgence to watch his cum drip from from inside you. “We really did.”

Sova helps you off the sink edge, keeping an arm around you for balance purposes. It’s not uncommon for one to lose balance after getting railed and he’s too sweet a boyfriend to allow you to struggle even a second. 

After quickly cleaning up and fixing your appearances, you both dash out the bathroom with stupid grins on your faces and the hope no one puts two and two together.

And no one in the restaurant does. At least, no one who was physically present. Unbeknownst to you and Sova, Cypher hacked into the place’s camera system after Brimstone asked him to find you two as the hour mark neared. It took maybe two minutes before his facial recognition program picked up a sighting. He’s not oblivious and put together what probably occurred in the bathroom. As one of the best keeper of secrets around, he elected to omit his realization from Brimstone. No reason to publicly announce such a private thing, even if it was done in public.

“They were held up in the restaurant but I assure you they are on the way.”

It’s a secret Cypher later uses to tease you and Sova, much to the latter’s embarrassment and chagrin. Though you think it’s funny seeing your love’s face flush red at the memory.

[meowdarame]

“𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭?”

pairings: tooru oikawa x f!reader (afab!reader, she/her pronouns)

synopsis: hectic is an understatement for oikawa’s schedule— it’s not easy being a pro-athlete. and because of the chaos of his daily life, he foolishly forgets to buy you a birthday present. all is doomed until he realizes that he has the perfect present tucked away in his gym shorts. (inspired by a line in the song “birthday sex” by jeremih)

warnings: NSFW, 18+ MINORS DNI; oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, lmk if there’s anything that i missed!

word count: 2.8k

notes: part of my birth month event, for she’s a jolly good fellow! also this was my first work that was NOT beta-read, so i apologize if it’s a little rough! as always, hope you enjoy and likes and reblogs are super appreciated!

special tag: @bxnten BECAUSE I’M DUMB AND DIDN’T UNDERSTAND WHAT CAT MEANT TO TAG HER IN MY STUFF 😭

Only two thoughts cross Oikawa’s mind after a Friday afternoon practice: 1) What fucking day is it again? and 2) Shit, I’m totally screwed.

To say that his schedule is “hectic” would be a drastic understatement. Between grueling early morning and late afternoon volleyball practices and exhausting photoshoots for his sponsorships and brand deals, the pretty setter barely even has time to think to himself. He wakes up just as tired as he was when he went to bed, and this pattern continues through all seven days of the week, all fifty-two weeks of the year. Soon, his days begin to blend together, nearly indistinguishable from one another. If his life were a painter’s palette, the only color that would be visible on it would be a drab shade of brown.

Even then, when the common man would most likely crumble and fold under this intense pressure, the “Great King” Tooru Oikawa overcomes and conquers. It comes as no surprise to anyone that he’s able to keep up with his daily activities, entrusting his day-to-day routine in the hands of the beloved calendar app on his phone. But it’s this same app that stupidly forgot to remind him a week prior to today that this Friday was your birthday— or perhaps it did alert him, but the notification was just buried under a sea of work emails and Instagram comments from his adoring fans. Honestly, who knows?

All he knows is that right now, as he flies down the Argentinian highways and races home, Oikawa feels more like a court jester than he does an honorable member of royalty.

The heavy wooden door of your home slams shut with a loud thud. After tossing his keys onto the kitchen counter, he checks the time on his watch and exhales a sigh of relief. Thankfully, you should still be at work for another hour, which buys him just enough time to figure out a gift. He plops down onto the couch and begins brainstorming potential presents for you, his wife of three years.

But then, he comes to a horrible realization— he has absolutely no idea what you could possibly even want.

He scours every crevice in his mind, replaying conversations with you in high-definition. What about that upscale winery she mentioned to me in passing that one time? That would be a nice dinner date!  He thinks to himself. No, it’s too late to make a reservation for tonight. The earliest I’ll probably be able to book a visit will be next month. Ruffling his wavy brown locks in frustration, he continues his mental search.

Lingerie? No, he bought you that for your anniversary last month. New shoes? Your front door already looks like a department store with how many heels and sneakers you have. Jewelry? There’s no way he would be able to go to the jewelers right now and make it back in time before you arrive at home.

Oikawa thinks he’s ran out of options until he remembers how warm your body felt pressed up against his earlier this morning, with the flesh of your ass indiscreetly rubbing against his morning wood. You had begged for him to stay home and skip practice to spend the day with you, insisting that you could call in a sick day at work. When he asked for the reasoning behind your forthright demeanor, you cryptically explained that it was “just a special day” that you wanted to enjoy with him. At the time, your words flew right over his head, but now Oikawa realizes that he’s no better than the other daft men who are terrible at reading women.

But this memory sparks an idea in Oikawa’s stressed out mind, and he shoots up out of his seat and turns over the entire apartment in search of silky red ribbon and sewing scissors.

…

The first thing that you notice when you come home from work is that all of the contents in your storage closet are splayed out on your dinner table. Figuring that it’s the work of your charming (yet sometimes idiotic) husband Tooru, you huff out a sigh and call out for him.

“Tooru?” After a few seconds of prolonged silence, you hear his saccharine voice echo from the hallway.

“In here, sweetheart!”

You follow the sound of rustling and shuffling, assuming that Oikawa is the culprit behind the rowdy noise. Turning the corner to the entrance of your bedroom, you expect to see your husband either moving furniture or folding laundry.

But what you didn’t expect to see is Oikawa’s naked body posed on top of a bed of rose petals, a beautiful bright red ribbon wrapped in a bow around his fully-erect dick.

Your eyes widen and your jaw goes slack. “Tooru, what the fuck is all this?” You half giggle, half scoff, your hands gesturing to the scene before you.

“It’s your gift, baby! Happy birthday!” He cheers, enthusiastically throwing his arms up into the air in triumph. “Do you like it?”

“I mean, yes, I-I guess,” you sputter out as a whirlwind of thoughts flies through your bewildered mind. “It’s very thoughtful, honey, but who’s gonna clean this mess up?”

“I will! Don’t you worry your pretty little head about a single thing.” Oikawa races to you in the doorway, grabbing your wrist and quickly dragging you to the edge of the bed. You both sit down, the mattress dipping with the added weight, and your fingers delicately run over his palm, tracing the outline of what feels like a Band-Aid.

“I accidentally scraped my hand on a thorn when I was picking petals from our rose bush outside,” he sheepishly admits, a cute rosy tint adorning his cheekbones in slight embarrassment. It’s adorable that despite being in his late-20s, he’s still as accident prone as he was when you first met him at 18. Lifting his hand to your lips, you press a soft kiss against his skin, and his shoulder muscles relax at the tenderness.

“Thank you, Tooru. This was very sweet of you,” you murmur with his balled-up fist pressed against your cheek. 

“Of course. Anything for you, darling,” he whispers, a small smile creeping up on his pink lips.

“Hmm,” you hum to yourself and smile back at him. Your eyes interlock for a brief moment, but then yours begin to wander down his slender neck to his chiseled abs. They come to a full stop at his crotch, drinking in his pretty cock that stands tall and proud against his stomach, resting only a centimeter below his belly button. The silky ribbon is tied in a perfectly-even bow around the base of his shaft, and the red color accentuates the reddish-purplish shade of his tip. Precum already leaks out of his sensitive slit— you assume that he had been pleasuring himself for quite some time before you returned home. And given that he’s still hard as a brick after not touching himself for a few minutes, you can only imagine how turned on he must be right now.

“So,” you murmur in a low, seductive voice. “Is this my gift?” You accentuate your words by swiping your thumb over his slit, spreading a dribble of his precum over his head and eliciting a shudder from your husband. You run your fingertips up and down his shaft, ghosting over his tan skin; you tug on one of the loose ends of the bow and undo it. The ribbon slides down his legs, landing crumpled into a ball on the floor. 

“Yes,” he breathes out after regaining some composure. “It is. You can do whatever you want with it.” He shoots his signature devilish smirk at you, but to his surprise, you’re unphased.

“I can do whatever I want with it?” You ask incredulously. “Nuh-uh, I don’t think so, baby.” Standing up from your seat, you begin removing your work clothes one-by-one, teasing Oikawa and making him lick his lips in anticipation. After a minute of slowly stripping, you stand before him completely nude, and your husband looks like he has stars in his eyes.

“You must be out of your mind if you think that I’m going to work for my birthday gift.”

He tilts his head at you in confusion, but you quickly explain what you mean by lying down on the center of the bed.

“If anything, I think that my gift should be pleasing me on my special day. Don’t you agree, Tooru?”

His smirk is plastered on his face once again, and he crawls his way over to you. “What?” He growls. “You want me to fuck you ‘til you can’t even think, princess?” His arms cage both sides of your legs, slowly creeping his way up your torso to be face to face with you. “Want me to make you cum and cream all over my cock, hm?” His muscular body is about halfway on top of yours when you place your foot firmly on his shoulder, effectively stopping him in his tracks.

“Mmm, yes, but maybe later,” you cheekily reply, pushing his face down to your bare cunt. “But first, why don’t you use that talented tongue of yours for something instead of running your mouth, huh?”

He chuckles. “You’re lucky it’s your birthday, brat,” is all he says before diving his head in between the plush of your thighs, the flat muscle licking a solid stripe up your wet folds. 

Oikawa wastes no time— his lips immediately latch onto your clit, suckling on the swollen bud while his tongue swipes the nub back and forth. A string of expletives gets caught in your throat when his movements pick up in pace, causing your needy hole to clench around nothing. Weaving your fingers into his brown locks, you pant and beg for more.

“Tooru,” you airily breathe out. “Want your fingers, please.”

He smirks against your pussy, and it’s clear that your desperation went into his ears and shot straight to his ego. On any other day, he’d want you to be a sobbing, drooling mess before he caved in to your pleas, but since today is your special day, he obliges your request. His fingertips collect some of your slick before three digits plunge into the fluttering walls of your cunt.

A shrill cry resounds off the walls of your bedroom. Your legs kick out, your body actively trying to run away from Oikawa’s hand, but his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs and hold you in place. “You can take it,” he asserts, mumbling into your pussy. His deep brown eyes stare into yours hungrily. The pads of his digits massage the gummy spot on the topside of your walls, and the stimulation makes your vision go white. “Cum on my tongue, princess. Make me proud.”

His encouragement pushes you over the edge. Your walls clench around his fingers, nearly pushing them out entirely. Oikawa laps up the juices that ooze out of your cunt, letting the sweet taste of your orgasm dance on his taste buds. He lets you ride out your high until he feels your tense muscles begin to relax, and his lips detach from your oversensitive clit; quickly popping his digits into his mouth, he licks and cleans the appendages off.

“Well that was fast. I think we just set a new record, babe,” he teases, stroking his cock with saliva-coated fingers. “Why don’t we celebrate by painting your beautiful body with my cum, hm?”

Your fingers fervidly wrap around the back of his neck and pull him in for a kiss, shutting him up. Your tongues clash, and your teeth nibble at his bottom lip, eliciting the prettiest and most pathetic whines from him. You pull away, chest heaving and out of breath.

“Just fucking do it already,” you pant.

Oikawa plants one more quick kiss on your lips before readjusting your bodies. His arms cage both sides of your head, and you wrap your legs around his slim waist; hand snaking in between your warm bodies, you run his tip up and down your folds to collect your slick and line his head up with your fluttering hole. He’s about to thrust into you, but before he can, you squeeze your legs and pull his body flush against yours, bottoming him out in one solid, swift motion.

“Fuck!” You both moan at the same time. Oikawa nestles his head into your neck, and his hot, shaky breath tickles the baby hairs on your skin. You feel his drool pooling on your collarbone, and you realize that his mouth is agape— he’s barely started but he’s already too pussydrunk to even keep his mouth closed.

“Already close, baby? I thought you wanted to fuck me ‘til I can’t even think,” you taunt him, but your mockery is soon cut off when he reels his hips back and sends them crashing forward into the back of your thighs.

Lewd squelching noises fill the room. Moans rumble from both of your chests, but none of what you’re saying is coherent— both of you already reduced down to babbling messes, too engrossed in pleasure to even form a single sentence. With every roll of his hips, Oikawa hits your sweet spot, sending waves of euphoric pleasure up and down your spine. His movements pick up in pace, becoming more frantic and sloppier, now deliciously kissing your cervix with each thrust; it causes your eyes to roll to the back of your head and your toes to curl.

Grabbing a fistful of his hair, you tug his head back and pull his face out of the nook in your neck. His lips crash against yours, muffling the sounds of his needy whimpers against your mouth. 

“Tooru, you feel so good, baby. I fucking love you,” you moan when one particular thrust sends your body jolting upwards on the bed.

“I love you more,” he whines. Sweat beads around his temples, and his fluffy brown hair sticks to his forehead. His body is hot to the touch, and his strokes become messier.  “Fuck, I’m close. Where do you want your gift, princess?”

“Inside,” you practically cry out. “Fill me up, please!”

“A-Are you sure?” He stutters, unsure if he heard you correctly.

Your next movements don’t give him any choice— your ankles interlock behind Oikawa’s back, trapping him in place as he spills his seed inside of your velvety walls. Feeling the immense warmth inside of you, your back arches off of the bed, your perked nipples brushing gently against his glistening, sweaty skin. He lets your pussy milk him dry before he pulls out, your legs still tightly tangled behind his back.

His softening cock plops onto your belly. “Babe, you know you could let go of me now, right?” He jokes, littering your face with fluttering kisses all over your face.

“I know,” you whisper dreamily. “Just wanna keep you close, that’s all.”

He chuckles, planting one last kiss on your forehead before rolling over and lying down beside you. You scooch your body so that your head lies on his chest, tracing heart shapes on his broad chest and tickling his skin.

“So, did your gift live up to your expectations?” He asks, cocking an eyebrow and lifting his head up to look down at you.

You giggle and look up at him. With a bright smile spread across your face, you respond, “It exceeded my expectations, Tooru.”

“Good, good,” he hums, throwing his head back onto the pillow. He shuts his eyes and, to his stupidity, he foolishly thinks out loud. “Can’t believe it worked! And to think that I planned this whole thing today!”

“What?”

His eyes shoot wide open and he looks down at you once again. Your brows are furrowed and you scrunch your nose at him. You consider hailing an onslaught of insults at him, but ultimately you decide against it.

“Even though you may have forgotten my birthday, I’ll let it slide. For a gift that you planned and executed in 12 hours, you really outdid yourself.” 

You laugh in your head. Twelve hours is a gracious estimation. The truth is that from the moment you stepped into the foyer of your home, you knew that he had forgotten about your birthday and was scrambling to find a present for you. And from the way that your house had looked like it was literally ransacked when you arrived, you could tell that he had only remembered an hour before you returned home.

You know his dirty little secret, but you figure that you’ll let it slide. His gift was pretty good, after all.

taglist: @sabyss @petalsrdead @miya-dynasty @ohtobiors @frenchtoastmafia @devilgirlcrybabiey @chaotic-fangirl-blog @semisgroupie @dessceased @sunat2508 @rueren @rinsie @portfolio-of-dreams @crystal-lilac @21-06-1996 @sweeneyblue1 +++ @lunaevangeline my resident oikawa simp hehe <3