#Where his smile is free to light up all the surroundings

[baeshijima]

okay so i have kind of but not really met anaxa in game but !!

anaxa x sunshine reader.

like... renown infamous genius scholar anaxagoras who doesn’t take anything from anyone is almost akin to a cat when with you, putting on an adamant front only to crumble and — begrudgingly, he tries to stress, though he really isn't fooling anyone, much less himself — ultimately give in to your whims; answering your mundane questions, listening and providing his own quips (sometimes sincere, often snappy) here and there to your endless rambles, trailing behind you hot on your heels only to eventually catch up to your side as you wander off to who knows where, yammering on about who knows what.

(you're planning to visit okhema, is what he gathered from your animated retelling of some bakery you'd heard from word-of-mouth which was supposed to be good. hah! why would you waste your time on such trivialities when you could be graced with the honour of his tutelage on the topic of free speech and— curses, how did you get so far ahead?)

in spite of his… less than successful attempts to thwart these pesky thoughts and feelings from festering within, anaxagoras long since knew the irreversible truth brought by your appearance in his life — from the very first moment you bumped into him amid your haste, stray papers sent flying as the large leather-bound books thudded against the library floor. the less-than-flattering slew of words initally locked and loaded, ready to be spewed, oddly dissipated on the tip of his tongue the second he saw your frantic expression, hasty movements in re-gathering the strewn papers, and clumsy set of apologies spilling from your lips. it was almost trance-like, the manner in which he kneeled as he began to collect the flyaway papers surrounding him.

after returning them to you with a kindly, “who runs in a narrow hallway? watch where you��re going next time, you may not be so fortunate with the next collision,” anaxa naively thought that would be the end of that. he did not foresee running into you more frequently from thereafter, feeling strangely moved as a foreign warmth settled within every time you never failed to greet him with a beaming grin, eventually accompanied by the, dare he speculate after months upon months of pouring over and overanalysing your interactions, affectionate tone when calling his name. having been subject to the numerous days— weeks, even — spent listening to your attempts at correctly pronouncing his name, anaxa really should be immune to the effects. unfortunately for him, he could not be any further from the truth.

(anaxa chooses to ignore how he purposely nitpicked your pronunciation, extending the time spent teaching you how to do so just to hear you say his name a little more. not his proudest moment, but he finds it worth all the extra effort when you greet him as such, his name seamlessly rolling off your tongue coupled with your starry eyes and rapturing cadence as you ramble om about whatever caught your interest that day.)

perhaps he should have expected this outcome. after all, for someone who enjoys his solitude, anaxa has caught himself seeking you out on more occasions than deemed appropriate for mere acquaintances. no, not even friends would be this forefront. it was a predetermined outcome, anaxa deduces, the way in which your presence endlesslh draws him in like a shadow to a light— a moth to a flame.

if only to see your blinding smile directed towards and caused by him, anaxa supposes he wouldn't mind your nonsensical chatter replacing the usual white noise droning on in the background. for how long? well, for as long as he continues to breathe seems sufficient enough.

(you ought to stop entertaining some of those foolish scholars, however. they really are not worth wasting a second more than necessary on when he himself has far more knowledge and wit they do combined.)

[viviwah]

CHO SANG-WOO (PLAYER 218) - ONE NIGHT

warnings: f!reader, age difference (20s x 40s), fingering, unprotected sex (creampie)

a/n: sang woo is dangerously attractive, breathe if you agree!

As soon as the voting was finished, the square guard said his goodbyes, speaking on behalf of the other guards as well, the ones who were not allowed to speak for some odd reason. As the guard continued to speak, you tuned it all out, only focusing on leaving this hell hole and going home. What for though? Your life was shit and that’s the whole reason you ended up in a place like this. You, along with majority of the other players, had only made it through one game before deciding that these “games” weren’t your cup of tea at all.

Thanks to the handsome player who was numbered 218, if you remembered correctly, the opportunity to vote was given and the X’s won the vote 101 - 100.

“Ouch!”

You winced in pain as you felt your skin scrape against the concrete. Those stupid guards really had no compassion for others. You weren’t alone though and you realized this after hearing the groans of a man, one who didn’t sound too far away. You could hear the man moving closer, soon feeling the warmth of his body up against yours as his fingers softly grazed against your face and lifted the thin blindfold away from your eyes. Once your eyes adjusted to the light, they dropped down to the man who was now next to you with his wrists and ankles tied together just as yours were. He wasn’t wearing anything but underwear which made you look down at your own body which was covered in nothing but underwear as well.

“They really threw us outside naked..assholes.”

You scoffed as you thought to yourself before suddenly remembering what needed to be done. Your teeth pulled at the rope that tied the mans wrists together and the knot unraveled, freeing his hands. Once his hands were free, he removed the blindfold that covered his own eyes and undid the knot that tied his feet together. He didn’t waste any time and quickly untied the ropes that were tied around your wrists and ankles. Your head lifted and you made eye contact with the man who stood in front you.

Player 218

After he untied you, he hurriedly made his way towards the pile of belongings and you followed him behind him, hurriedly putting your clothes on. You grabbed your phone and tried to turn it on but unfortunately, it was dead. You let out a groan of frustration before turning your attention to the man, player 218, who stood just a few feet away from you.

“Sir, do you know where we are?”, you questioned, hoping for a good answer.

He turned his gaze up from his phone which seemed to be dead as well and eyed the buildings that surrounded the both of you, pushing his glasses up his nose as he did so.

“We’re near Ssangmun-Dong.”, he responded confidently.

“You live far from here?”, you questioned again.

“Not at all actually. What about you?”, he adjusted his glasses once again as he spoke, turning his gaze towards you.

“I live in Ansan.”, you responded, earning a light nod from him.

“What’s your name?”, you questioned for the third time.

“Sang-Woo. Cho Sang-Woo.”, he gave a simple reply.

“I’m (yourname)”, you smiled in his direction.

“I wouldn’t mind if you spent tonight at my place. It seems to be pretty late and I know your cellphone is dead.”, he paused, “I live about a ten minute walk away.”, he gave a faint smile as he explained.

You admired his kindness because there’s no way in HELL you’d ever offer your place to a stranger, especially one who was coming from a place like the one the two of you had just left. You bent slightly, bowing to him.

Surprisingly, you accepted his offer.

Hours had passed since you entered Sang-Woo’s home and those hours were full of laughter and good conversations.

Who knew bonding with a stranger would be so easy?

As the conversations began to die down, an awkward silence took over the room and the sexual tension between the two of you began to rise, that tension quickly became thick enough to be cut with a knife. You cleared your throat awkwardly and Sang-Woo turned in your direction, locking eyes with you. The eye contact that you both shared didn’t last for long since your eyes quickly trailed away from his eyes and down to his lips.

Was it wrong that you wanted to kiss him?

Better Question.

Was it wrong that you wanted to kiss a man who was old enough to be your father?

“If you want to kiss me just do it.”, he spoke calmly as he removed his glasses from his face, setting them down on the glass table that sat in front of the both of you.

“How’d you know I want to kiss you?”, you questioned, dumbfounded.

He gave no reply. Instead, he moved closer to where you were sitting and lifted your head with two fingers. Your eyes softened immediately once they met his. He leaned into you, tracing his soft lips up against your neck and that was more than enough to make your knees weak and your pussy leak. A soft gasp left your mouth as his lips pressed up against your neck, leaving faint kisses. It didn’t take long for him to pull away and once he did, you pulled him into a kiss, one that was deep and passionate. His hands traced up and down your clothed body before gripping your waist softly as the two of you melted under each other’s touch. His grip quickly tightened and he pulled you onto his lap. You smirked against his lips as you felt his cock growing hard underneath your warmth. You pulled away from the kiss, drawing a needy whine from him.

“Someone’s excited.”

You teased, referring to the boner confined in his pants. You then began rocking your hips back and forth lightly which only made him grow harder than he was before. His grip on your waist tightened once again as he lowered you down onto his clothed cock. You wanted him so bad. You needed him and the feeling was mutual. He pulled you in for another kiss and this time, the kiss was turned into a rough, sweaty, make out session. He pulled away, smirking as he grabbed onto your waist once again and lifted you as he stood up. He carried you like a groom would cary his bride as he made his way towards the bedroom. Once you were there, he threw you into the bed roughly and removed his shirt as quick as he could, throwing it without a care in the world. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, watching him from your position on the bed.

“Take those off.”, he commanded, voice deep and full of lust.

You simply complied with his command and removed your pants.

“Such a good girl..”, he mumbled underneath his breath and began rubbing your clit through your panties, eyeing you sensually as he did so.

It didn’t take long for you to become a moaning mess underneath his touch. Your lip slid between your teeth and you bit down, attempting to hold back any moans that dared to fall out. His movements suddenly stopped and your face quickly dropped into a frown.

“Don’t hold back, baby. Let it all out.”, he leaned towards you as he whispered, continuing his movements on your clit and using his other hand to unclasp your bra. He stopped once again, this time to pull your panties down. He let out a soft groan as he eyed your bare pussy that was now dripping wet for him.

“Should I put them inside of you?”, he questioned in a low voice that made you quiver as his hands traced along your thighs.

You nodded rapidly, back arching slightly as you did so, growing needy by the second.

“Use your words.”, he muttered angrily and lifted his hand, sending a harsh slap onto your bare thigh.

“Yes, please.”, you cooed, leaning your head back.

He smirked and ran his fingers along the slit of your pussy, slowly sliding his fingers inside of you.

“You’re so wet for me.”, he kissed your inner thighs as he pushed his fingers deeper inside of you.

You gasped as his fingers grazed your cervix.

“Sang-Woo…”, you moaned as his palm came in contact with your aching clit due to his fingers being as deep as they possibly could be inside of you.

“Hm?”, he hummed quietly, watching as you squirmed underneath him.

“I’m going to..cum.”, you admitted, slightly embarrassed.

“Cum for me, princess.”, he smirked before fastening his pace.

Your pussy gushed and tightened around his fingers as a result of his fastened pace. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you covered his fingers with your sweet, slick, juices. His fingers slowly slid slowly slid out of your pussy, and once they did he licked them clean.

“You taste so fucking good.”, he groaned.

Sang-Woo joined you in the bed and you watched as he unbuckled his belt and slid his boxers and pants off in one movement. His cock sprang up, hitting his lower abdomen and you almost drooled at the sight, watching as precum leaked from his tip. You didn’t waste any time and immediately straddled his hips while holding his cock in your hand and aligning it with your pussy that was still dripping wet and leaking juices from your previous orgasm. His hands grabbed onto your waist and he pushed you down, forcing himself inside of you. A loud gasp left your mouth as his cock filled you up and thrusted into you without giving you time to adjust to the size. His hands tightened around your waist as he bucked his hips up into you, thrusting at an inhumane pace. His head leaned back onto headboard as he groaned in pleasure. You grabbed onto his shoulders for support as you began bouncing up and down on his cock without a care for anything else in the world.

“You..feel so good inside of me.”, you breathed out, looking into his eyes as you spoke.

“And you feel so good around me, baby.”

His hands made their onto your hips, guiding you back and forth at a pace that was way slower than the one before. He leaned his head back as he let out a loud groan, one that didn’t sound like the ones he’d let out before. His grip on your hips tightened as his cock twitched inside of you, soon coating your walls with his cum.

Who knew all of this would happen in one night?

[rockingtheorange]

Henry gasping for air, unable to accept how Alex was there fighting for them, for him.

Alex was there regardless of Henry leaving, of an ocean between them, regardless of their public roles and futures...

Alex knew Henry was his future, but Henry never imagined the possibility of even having one, in the first place.

I associate Henry's gaps with this quote:

"And you can't explain it, when it really happens, when you feel all the weight of the irremediable condition of human being. While feeling the body forcefully slamming against the walls of the soul. The exact moment you know you love."

(Come Anima mai - Eng translation)

Original quote from Come Anima Mai by Rossana Soldano:

E non puoi spiegarlo, quando davvero accade, quando senti addosso tutta l’irrimediabilità della condizione di essere umano. Mentre senti il corpo sbattere prepotentemente contro le pareti dell’anima. Il momento preciso in cui sai di amare.

[yanderenightmare]

Genderbend Himoko Toga

♡ TW: yandere, blood, wounds, kidnapping

♡ FEM reader

He's uncomfortably tall. Lurking and towering in the corner, blade tickling his lips and smile glinting as he runs his tongue over his teeth, eyes glowing bright yellow and dead-set on you.

Many in the league are bigger than you, but Toga really takes the cake when it comes to height. He doesn’t look like much standing next to Muscular, despite sharing the same eye level, but next to you? He can't even rest his chin on the top of your head without having to bend over.

You don't often see the muscle in him, but you’re smart enough to know what’s hidden within his large beige sweater. Long serpentine arms that sling around you like a boa much too quick for you to escape and fight, joined by slender fingers that seem to curl around your everything with ease.

You don't know why you're thinking of him at a time like this. Maybe the entrapment felt similar, where you were strapped to a chair, blindfolded, surrounded by gruff voices discussing whether they should kill you to send a message or bargain for something better.

It was clear they didn't realize you didn't mean shit to the League.

Your body hurts—aches from wounds and smaller cuts you’d sustained when they'd taken you. They hadn’t played nice. But you suppose you ought to see it as respect—however misplaced—that they regarded you with the same merciless ruthlessness as if you were a real League member and not just some toy they keep around for funsies.

Suppose Toga would just get a new one now.

Your kidnappers will realize it soon enough—how no one’s coming for you. All that effort wasted—must make them mad. They’ll probably kill you before long. But right as you’re accepting your end, there’s a sudden commotion...

Angry voices turn to panicked shouting. Then silence.

You wonder what’s going on.

You hear footsteps coming closer—light ones moving slowly across the floor until stopping before you.

Cold hands cup your face in a familiar hold, sliding your blindfold off, only to reveal a pair of yellow eyes staring back at you.

"You–” Your voice comes out thin and dry. “You came..."

Toga smiles at you—that same way he always does, bright and creepy with his fangs on display. "Of course we came, silly doll,” he gushes, nose-kissing you with a humming chuckle.

There’s a scoff, and another voice, one steeped in sarcasm, drawls, "Yeah, fuck forbid Toga's favorite toy wound up in the wrong hands."

"Tch–we’d never hear the end of it…"

Standing behind your unlikely savior’s crouched form is a familiar duo—one raven and another white-haired.

"Don't listen to them, dolly. They’re too blind to see you like I do."

Toga pouts, shaking his head at their words as he brings forth his knife—blood-drenched and still dripping from the assault. You spot the bodies on the floor and can’t help but cringe. Skin rippling with shivers as he uses the same blade to cut loose the ropes binding your feet to the chair. 

Dabi shrugs, "Don't get me wrong—she’s a pretty bitch, but pretty ain't worth all this mess." He kicks one of the limp bodies they’d dropped. Blood seeping out on his shoes.

Shigaraki grins, looking at you and your bloodied face, "She ain’t too pretty no more, though.”

Dabi, too, chuckles at the sight. "Yeah, they fucked her up a bit, didn’t they.”

They both snicker. "Sure you want damaged goods, Toga?”

Again, Himiko just shakes his head and ignores them, looking at you through those slim eyes full of something that scares you way worse than the men from earlier. "We should pity them, dolly. They don't have what we have. They don't love the way we do.”

He leans over your lap, bloody hands on your thighs as he looks up at you half-mast with pupils wide like the void—forgetting to cut free your bound wrists in favor of basking in the look on your pretty face.

“You're worth everything to me. Everything and more.”

With a blush dusting his cheeks deep pink, he graces your face with his knife. You swear you see his eyes nearly roll back—elated by the red staining your otherwise smooth skin.

"They really did a little number on you, didn't they~” he sighs with a flutter in his chest, biting his lip as he leans in closer for inspection. "Hmm, maybe I should've thanked them before cutting them up.”

He zeroes in on your popped lip and licks his own—voice coming out darker with what he says next, "They made you even cuter than before…”

The other two grimace before rolling their eyes and taking their cue, leaving you to fend for yourself. Not that you expected anything else. Though, you’re starting to believe you were better off with the previous kidnappers compared to the one in front of you.

"All bloodied and bruised…” 

Toga’s eyes get misty, overwhelmed by the tasty sight. 

"Don't worry, dolly—I'll nurse you back to health."

♡ BNHA masterlist

[rxmye]

" 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐎𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 "

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 — pristine and perfect, filled with grace and elegance, yet tainted with greed . . greed for you . .

gender neutral reader / yandere oc x reader / slight religious themes?, I suppose it's a fictional religion, I'm still world-building / pathetic and submissive yandere / suggestive content? / he paints the reader as a source of comfort / stalking, which is conveniently described as 'adorable' and 'innocent' behavior /

masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: ok so the person mentioned is supposed to be the God of this world, their introduction will also be out soon enough . . currently dropping hints here because world-building fun!!

Takamoto was an Arch-angel, one of the highest ranked angels in heaven—he was pure and truly the definition of elegance, he was never greedy, and he was almost always seen smiling or happy. For he, was truly contempt with his life, and position.

Takamoto was always someone who had truly been satisfied with all that he was given, he never craved more—he always thought and frankly believed, that he had received all that he deserved and that he should be contempt with what he has. He never really had any passion or desire for anything more—he was grateful with everything—he believed all his hardships had reasoning behind it, and that it will all eventually be solved. In fact a part of him believed he deserved any hardship he came by.

Many would believe he was naive for that sort of mindset, and many angels did truly believe him to be just that, yet against all odds he rose up the ranks fairly quickly for this sort of mindset, and of course his loyalty to his beliefs. Takamoto was sweet, he'd help everyone out, and would introduce new souls, and angels throughout the lands of heaven on his free time, he'd help guide souls and his fellow angels everywhere he could . . yet things slowly changed when he first met you . .

Takamoto was visiting, what could only be described as the countryside of heaven, with vast green fields, cozy homes, acres of farmland, etc . . He was checking in for this years harvest, as per high courts orders . . when he saw you, you were so graceful, your wings sparkled in the light, you were radiant, you're eyes glimmered as both of your eyes met for a brief moment . . he felt his heart skip a beat. . his face was heating up slightly, his face dusted with shades of bright pink.

His mouth hung slightly open, as his gaze lingered on you figure, taking in the sight—your wings were lovely, much smaller than his . . were you a new soul? Perhaps you were a lower ranked angel and hence why you both never quite met . . He wanted to know more about you—he need to know more about you—where were you going? . . . and before he knew it, he found himself following you, trailing behind you silently.

He found himself frequenting areas he last saw you, it was all so innocent at first, many of his fellow coworkers described him as a young schoolboy in love, teasing him for his oh so adorable behavior . .

Takamoto didn't notice how much you were invading his life, he hadn't even been able to hold a proper sentence with you yet . . . but even then his thoughts consumed of you, whenever he did paperwork, he'd doodle your face, his room was filled with various portraits of you . .

He found himself overtime growing desperate, impure thoughts flooding his mind, greed sinking its claws into his sensitive and naive hurt—he was the utter picture of perfection, just look at him, he was everything an angel . . a human, anyone should be!?!? Why aren't you looking his way!— . . he took deep breaths, his own fingers digging into his skin, as he tried calming himself.

Gold drips from his arm, the bruise left from his fingers still fresh—golden blood stained his pretty pale fingers—pupils dilating as he took deep breaths, a ruined portrait of your face on the aisle, paint splatters surrounded him, tainting his legs, as a mirror lay broken on the floor.

"Fuck", he cussed softly, tears threatening to spill, his usually well-kept hair was a mess . . "why can't I draw them . . ?", he asked, his voice hoarse, as he tried his best to contain the anger he felt at that moment, "why can't I fucking draw them??", his nails dig into the floor, as the door creaked open.

You need to love him, you need to see him. He had never craved someone's validation, he deserved this, he deserved you! He could offer you everything, he was perfect! Everyone he knows, envied that about him . . surely you'd notice, you have too . .

He turned to face the person at the door, tears now dripping down his cheek, he mumbled something under his breath, before he started begging, "Please, please, help me . . my lord"

want more, buy my limited time only advent calendar?

@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[lonely-cowboy]

HEY HEY CAN I REQUEST ANYTHING FLUFFY W CONNOR X FEM READER

YOU WORK IS SO GOODDD

MY DARLINGS FORGIVE ME

requests started coming in hot right as i started my midterms so pls forgive me for taking so long to get through my requests (which i'm loving btw i'm so excited to get to all of them)

with that being said i'll stop yapping and let you read in peace

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

framed

pairing: connor (rk800) x f!reader

summary: you're very confused when you find a photograph of yourself on connor's desk.

word count: 1k

warnings: none

author's note: i said i'm done yapping and i mean it i have nothing to say. (except i do wanna say this was inspired by the person that said my connor was very you are in love coded bc that made me happy and got me thinking)

masterlist ⟡ requests

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“What do androids do in their free time, anyway?”

“Plot against humanity? I dunno.”

Hank’s laugh came out in a quiet huff, one that indicated he didn’t think your answer was too far from the truth. 

You had come into the precinct hoping to interview Hank and Connor on their latest investigation surrounding a human cult determined to wipe out every single android. As head journalist for the Detroit Free Press, you were desperate to get word before everyone else. And as Connor’s friend, you were sure you could sweet-talk it out of him. 

But when you got to the precinct, Connor was, strangely, nowhere to be found. Usually, he trailed behind Hank like a lost puppy, but not even Hank knew of Connor’s whereabouts. His unusual absence only led to conversations about what the hell an android could be doing on his lonesome. Neither of you had any clue.

“Have a seat, kid,” Hank offered, nudging his chin over to Connor’s desk. “You know he’d feel bad if you were standin’ around waiting for him.” 

Rounding the table, you took a seat in Connor’s chair. You sat stiffly with your hands atop your thighs, the exact same way Connor would. The realization made you chuckle softly to yourself. Even when he wasn’t here, his presence always made itself known in the subtlest of ways.

Your eyes wandered across Connor’s desk, noticing that it was relatively barren. Hank’s desk was littered with mementos– old donut boxes, Detroit Gears merchandise, anti-android propaganda that he’d crumpled up and intended to trash. But Connor’s desk was plain and organized. A single blue pen sat exactly parallel to his recent case file that had been neatly folded. On top of his case file was a quarter like the one he always fidgeted with. You wondered idly how many quarters he had lying around, having never seen him without one. But the only belonging of actual interest was a picture frame right beside his terminal.

Your brows furrowed as your gaze latched onto the photograph. You were staring directly at a picture of yourself.

Believing it to be a trick of the light, you reached for the picture frame and brought it closer. Sure enough, it was you.  

You stared at a version of yourself who was mid-laugh. You could almost hear your own laughter ringing in your ears. It was that genuine kind of laughter, you knew. The kind that was an obnoxious cackle you always wanted to hide. Why on earth would Connor have a picture like that framed?

Come to think of it, where did Connor even get this picture? You didn’t recognize it at all. You couldn’t even place where it was taken. There were zero clues in the photograph as you were the only focus. Nothing else, just you.

You were about to ask Hank about it when a voice over your shoulder startled you, “I really like that picture.”

An inhuman yelp escaped your lips as you spun around in Connor’s chair. You found him looking down at you with a pleasant smile, not even remotely embarrassed to be caught having a photo of you.

“Why… what even… what?” you stammered.

Connor cocked his head curiously, waiting for you to get your words out. But you couldn’t. You were so utterly confused that your brain couldn’t remember a single word in existence. You just stared at Connor with a gaping mouth, holding the picture up for his viewing pleasure. 

When you didn’t say anything, Connor’s eyebrows furrowed for only a moment before easing. An endearing habit of his that made your heart flutter. He definitely was not helping you find the right words. 

“I’d like to clear your confusion as best I can, but… I’m afraid I don’t understand its cause,” Connor said gently.

From behind, you heard Hank’s quiet snort. He wasn’t helping either.

“Well… Connor,” you started slowly like you were gradually putting the puzzle pieces together. No matter how hard you tried, the pieces weren’t fitting. “Why do you have a picture of me?”

The corners of his lips raised into a small grin, his hands moving to clasp in front of him. You knew this stance to mean he was about to tell a story.

“I asked Lieutenant Anderson about the keepsakes on his desk. I was curious as to why these particular items were objects of significance and what classified them as such,” Connor explained cheerfully. “As I recall, he said ‘I don’t know, they’re just alright, I guess.’ Perhaps my interpretation was incorrect, but I took that to mean those items made him happy.”

Connor’s smile widened slightly. That meant he was finished. He didn’t clear any of your confusion.

“Okay…?” you prompted.

“I wanted to do something similar. I thought it could help me accommodate to deviancy, so I decided to surround myself with things that make me happy.”

Your mouth clamped shut as your confused look turned to one of shock. You were almost sure you hadn’t heard him right, but another laugh (hidden behind a cough) from Hank made you confident that you had.

“I… make you happy?” you clarified.

“Yes,” Connor answered curtly. There was another long pause as you waited for Connor to continue. He seemed to get the hint by now, elaborating further. “I always enjoy your company. I look forward to seeing you when we have scheduled plans. This wasn’t a scheduled visit, so I was pleased to see you were here. It made me smile. Seeing you makes me smile.”

With all his talk of smiling, you couldn’t help cracking one of your own. Seeing your smile made Connor brighten.

“Like that,” he said. “If I could photograph and frame you right now, I would.”

You were so giddy with affection that you couldn’t help but laugh. You had never known Connor to be so poetic with his words.

“You know, Connor,” you said with careless laughter. “I came here to sweet-talk you into an interview for the Press. But here you are sweet-talking me.”

Connor looked pleased with himself, standing a little straighter. “I hope that made you smile.”

“It certainly did.”

[crushmeeren]

イ JEALOUSY

⋆ note ; having rampant thoughts about alucard so….. yeah, here i am. still procrastinating my other fic, continuing to insert myself into this fandom lmao. don’t ask where this idea came from, cuz I’d say I pulled it from my ass.

⋆ suggestive-ish content, cursing.

master list

Studying Alucard, at the irritated scrunch of his nose, at the expression that displays his holier than thou attitude — well, you determine that jealousy looks good on him.

The menacing air that surrounds him, the sharp fang poking out over his bottom lip, you’re sure it’s scaring everyone within his vicinity. He’s sulking, but he’s still terrifying.

You’d thought bringing your husband to the bar tonight would be a good change of pace. Alucard spends so much time of his free time holed up inside, acting every bit like the centuries old half vampire he is, you wanted him to live a little.

Convincing him to ditch his black coat and put on a silky white button up was, surprisingly, the most difficult part.

Somehow you’d ended up on the dance floor. Alone. Putting on a show for Alucard, encouraging him to join the crowd and dance with you while he sat pretty in a torn up booth. You’d been so eager for him to let loose. To slide up behind you, grab your hips like a lifeline, and place hot kisses all over the side of your throat until he got so worked up he’d drag you home and shove your face in the sheets.

You’re on the verge of hooking him, the heavy beat of the music thumping in your chest, when strange fingers circle around your outstretched wrist. You jump, gasping as you whip towards the unknown source. A man with shaggy brown hair tugs you closer, a silly smile pointed at you.

The man raises his voice to be heard over the speakers. “Why’re you all alone doll? Need a partner to grind that sweet ass against?”

You twist your wrist free, brows shooting up at the blunt statement. What the fuck? “Uh no, I’m not alone. My husband is here. So please leave me the hell alone,” you reply, tone firm in your rejection. You take a step backwards, creating some distance.

He follows, crowding in way too close for comfort. “Ya sure about that? I don’t see him anywhere.”

That’s when you choose to shoot Alucard a look asking for help. That’s when you notice his furious features and your stomach lurches with heat, flipping upside down.

Your husband is positioning himself between you and the stranger before you can blink, pushing his chest roughly with a look of disdain, a nasty curl to his lip.

“Adrian,” you start. “He’s not worth your time.” You grab his elbow but Alucard holds up a hand, directing his attention to the other man, who’s now staring at him in disbelief.

“What the hell man? Who do you think you are Adri—,”

Alucard cuts him off with a hiss. “Do not utter my name, you filthy fucking animal. If you dare lay another hand on my wife, I’ll rip the limb from your body. Do you understand?” he threatens, destroying the distance between himself and the stranger.

You’re on the tips of your toes, eyes darting between both men. The unwanted stranger, who appears to retain some sense about him, snaps his jaw shut and raises his hands in surrender. He spins in the opposite direction and scurries out of sight.

Alucard remains frozen in place. You side step him, then shift until you’re face to face. He rolls the tension from his shoulders once your hands settle on his chest, meeting your burning gaze and flushed face. The intensity in his eyes lights you up inside, the tips of your fingers tingling.

No other thoughts come to mind besides “that was so hot, my husband is so fucking hot. i want him.” And you tell him so.

He chuckles, lifting one hand to cradle your cheek, thumb running across your bottom lip. “Did I make you ravenous for me, my love? I was unaware my possessive nature appealed to you so sweetly,” He teases, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

You nod, desperate to go home. “Adrian,” you plead. “C’mon, stop teasing.”

He places his lips against your ear and murmurs “If that’s your desire, then we shall leave this place. I’ll show you that you’re completely, utterly, mine.”

イ here’s the real question…does anyone want an nsfw part 2?

[trulyumai]

Festivities of Saturnalia

pairing: caracalla / wife! reader

description: The Roman’s didn’t have Christmas; however they did have Saturnalia. With plenty of food, wine and presents, the festivities had begun.

warnings: none. so much fluff you’ll be buried in a soft, comforting cloud.

a-n: i love writing for this man so im glad y’all love reading it! enjoooooooy~

you didn’t mind the return of the festivities. Saturnalia; the festival held for the God of Saturn. It usually lasted a week, but with how the twins acted, it went for about two.

tables upon tables were situated in the main temple, almost everyone throughout Rome would show up in custom with vintage wines, aged cheeses and gifts aplenty for their loved ones.

you were no different. with two goblets in your palms and a semi-wrapped present under the meat of your arm, you made your way through the bustling crowd.

cheers and sounds of merriment were all around, a light break in the hustling environment helped you guide seamlessly towards the private section.

Where the emperors section lay tucked into the corner. Candles were spread out by the area, lighting it up beautifully while green foliage surrounded the offered foods.

“Ah, look who it is.” Placing the glasses gently, your thumbs brushed against the wooden table, with lidded eyes you smiled at Geta. “Good merriement to you too, my lord.”

The taller man scoffed, veiny hands smoothed over his mouth, wiping the stain and aroma of a bittersweet wine. His robes were ornate, gold lay about the seams as a white and red scheme took over the vastness of silk.

“Looking for your lover?”

Rolling your eyes, you sat down just beside him. Slumping forward with one arm pressed against a cheek, a sigh escaped quickly. “How’d you know?”

“Like it isn’t obvious,” gesturing to his drink, a servant dipped a bottle forward, filling Geta’s chalice completely.

The woman looked at you expectedly, already inching the beverage towards the empty cup.

“That’s alright,” you smiled, “see if anyone else needs their fill.”

The lady bowed, already on her way to the tables beside your own.

Swirling the marooned stained liquid around, a bored look crossed the emperors face before he spoke again.“So, what did you get my adoring brother? A robe, new rings… perhaps another disgusting pet to lay upon his shoulders?”

A laugh, warm and light broke out of you and Geta joined in smoothly. “No, no Dondus Jr,” nervously you brushed your hair back, little baby hairs escaped the tight braids and already you wanted to fix it.

“I got him something he’s been wanting actually.”

“Oh?” Geta leaned forward, his array of jewelery shined bright against the light. “And what would that be, dear one?”

Glaring jokingly at the ginger, you couldn’t help but return a moody tone back, shoving against his snoopy nature. “Well, wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I would, actually—“

“Angel!” Even through such a loud setting, his voice could be distinguished. Cranking your head up, you noticed the wrinkled clothing, the mess of hair placed upon such a pale head.

Your adoring husband.

“Finally,” Geta called out, tone flat and certain.

“I thought you were skipping such celebrations, we almost gave up hope!”

Caracalla, ignoring his brothers pokes, went straight for you. Not having time to stand, you smiled brightly up at the man, already he was placing a kiss upon the crown of your head, and one more on your temple.

Although he looked messy— seemed unfit for such an occasion, the man came with gifts. Two were perched precariously in his hands as a grin overtook his features.

“Angel, you left without me! I told you I had to get ready.”

“We both couldn’t be seen late, my love. It is unbecoming.” A whine, pitched and high left the man’s pouting lips. “Who cares? Not like they’ll say something.”

Caracalla gestured for you to stand and with no fight at all you did just that. Now, with access to a free and warm chair (thanks to you), the emperor crashed down, it was then that Dondus inched their way out from the back of his head, crying out to their owner for such an unexpected action.

“Hello little one,” you cooed, your arm came out for the little creature, to which they took most excitedly.

“Wife,” Caracalla whined. “Come, sit!” Spreading his legs, the twinned emperor made room for your frame.

“Gods,” a look of disgust was thrown your way. “Do you two have to be so touchy all of the time?”

“Yes,”

“Of course!”

The both of you coherently called out as Caracalla brushed his nose upon the smooth skin of your neck, just where the dress dipped down.

“I got you something,” you sung teasingly, your nails climbed their way up his arm until it met with his soft jaw. “You did?!”

“Mhm, well, technically I got you two things but,” leaning in, you had to whisper gently with lips just grazing his ear.

“You’ll have to get the other one tonight,”

Caracalla grunted out, although it sounded more like a muffled moan, his hands dug into your hips and with reddened cheeks he looked anywhere but you.

“Do you want the other one now?” You questioned,brushing past his unruly bangs.

“Yes— please,” already the man knew what present was his and grabbed at with with callous hands.

“Calla— patience!” Interrupted by a laugh you tried to slow the man down, but already the present was unwrapped and the emperors hands stilled.

“You didn’t.”

“I did!”

Geta leaned over the table, the wine in his hand dribbled over the side but it couldn’t be more forgotten.

“Impressive.” His brother spoke, eyeing the gift suspiciously.

It was a small knife, no bigger than a dagger but the ornate design made up for it. With a golden handle, white and yellow jewels go vertically up the sides, to where the silver, shined blade lay on display.

“You— how did you..” His eyes noticed an inscription, on the butt of the blade lay his initials, purposefully dug in with the skill of a smith.

“Happy Saturnalia, my love.” A kiss was placed upon his cheek, smudging a light red upon the man’s skin.

Geta lost interest completely, instead his attention turned towards the citizens bickering in the middle of the hall— pushing and shoving each other while accusations were being thrown. A contented, deep grin entered his face when a punch was thrown, then two.

“Your turn, Angel!” Finally out of his stupor, Caracalla placed a poorly wrapped box in your hands. It was long and small in width, only a fool couldn’t tell what such an item was but you held a look of surprise none the less.

“Mmmmh, what could it be?” Long nails felt there way under the material of the gift, until the top was lifted and removed.

Gods, you really were surprised now.

Shakily, your fingers glided against the stones of the jewelry, you couldn’t believe just how many jeweles lay upon the golden chain.

You were afraid to even remove it.

“Do you like it?” Nervously, your husband chewed at his lips, his palms now itching with sweat placed themselves on either side of you.

Afraid to even touch your figure with such tainted skin.

“I love it! Are you joking? I— I don’t deserve such a gift, my love, I—“

“Angel! What nonsense,” he growled, offended of such an exchange of words. Hastily the man grabbed the necklace, you bit back a worried garble of noises as the cold chain found its way on your neck.

“You’re the most beautiful woman in Rome, you of all people deserve such an item. It was made just for you.” Finishing up, the necklace was placed just right, not too tight but sturdy enough to be placed above your collarbones.

“Thank you, darling,” you mumbled. Caracalla laughed at your embarrassed figure, his long fingers brushed back the hair hiding your face.

“Always so humble, angel. Look at you,” cooing, Caracalla caressed your reddened cheeks and you tried to scold the man, push him away with a gentle shove but it didn’t deter the man one bit.

“And where’s my little gift, brother? I gave you yours already.” Annoyed by the interruption, Caracalla pointed at the other gift beside his goblet.

“Have at it, Dundus picked this one out for you brother.”

“Very funny.” Geta squinted, picking up the box with hesitancy.

….

“It wasn’t a joke, brother.”

[pucksandpower]

Don’t Touch Her

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Lando will do whatever it takes to ensure your safety after the unthinkable almost happens during a night out

Warnings: spiked drink, attempted SA, descriptions of seizure, hospitalization, and the implied murder of a minor character

You sway your hips to the pulsing beat, the colorful lights of the club flashing across your skin. Lando’s hands rest lightly on your waist, guiding you to the music. You lean into him, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the tang of sweat in the humid air.

“I’m parched,” you say, turning to face him. “Want me to grab you a drink?”

He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I can get them, love. You keep dancing.”

You shake your head, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the lips. “I need to get off my feet for a bit anyway. Same as usual?”

“Please. I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

You make your way through the crowded dance floor, weaving around gyrating bodies and flailing limbs. The bar is packed, patrons jostling for the bartenders’ attention. You manage to wedge yourself into a tiny gap, shouting your order over the commotion.

While waiting for the drinks, you check your phone. A few missed texts from friends, asking where you are. You fire back quick responses before pocketing the device just as the bartender slides two glasses toward you.

Vodka cranberry for you, rum and coke for Lando. You pass over a few bills, waving away the change, and turn to head back to the dance floor.

You take a long sip of your drink as you walk, the bubbly sweetness refreshing after all that dancing.

Lando is easy to spot, standing out due to the size of the crowd surrounding him. He smiles when he sees you coming, his whole face lighting up. Your heart flutters at the way he looks at you, like you’re the only person in the room.

You’re halfway to him when the first wave of dizziness hits. You stumble, drinks sloshing over your hands. Sudden nausea swirls in your gut. The room starts to spin, lights blurring into a kaleidoscope.

“Hey ...” You blink hard, trying to clear the fog creeping over your thoughts. “I don’t … feel so good.”

The glasses slide from your grip, shattering on the floor. You try to take a step toward Lando and the ground rushes up to meet you. Strong hands grab your arms, keeping you from collapsing completely.

“Whoa there, looks like someone started the party a little early.” The voice is unfamiliar, masculine with a hint of mocking laughter. You try to pull away but your limbs feel like lead.

“No, I ...” You shake your head, which only makes the dizziness worse. Through your dimming vision you can see Lando pushing through the crowd, his eyes wide.

“C’mon, there’s a back door this way. Let’s get you some air.” The man starts to guide you away, arms wrapped around your shoulders. Panic shoots through you and you try again to wrench yourself free, but it’s useless.

The cold night air hits you as the door swings open. The alley swims before you, dingy bricks and overflowing dumpsters. The man keeps walking, bearing you along while your weak protests fall on deaf ears.

Fear claws at your insides. You catch a glimpse of streetlights at the other end of the alley before he steers you into the shadows halfway down.

“S-stop,” you mumble, tongue heavy in your mouth. He just chuckles, pressing you against the brick wall.

“Shh, just relax. I’ll take good care of you.” His hand squeezes your thigh, rucking up your dress. Somewhere in the recesses of your fading mind, terror shrieks at you to fight, to run, but your traitorous body refuses to respond.

As the man leans in, the alley floods with light. Heavy footsteps pound on the pavement.

“Get your hands off her!” Lando’s voice booms with more fury than you’ve ever heard from him. The man holding you whirls around just as Lando’s fist connects with his jaw. He reels back with a cry, grip loosening. Lando catches you before you can slide to the ground.

“Hey, hey, I’ve got you.” His touch is infinitely gentle compared to the bruising hold of the stranger. He strokes your hair back from your face, eyes searching yours. “Can you hear me, love?”

You try to respond but only manage a faint whimper. Lando swears under his breath. Scooping you into his arms, he carries you swiftly from the alley. You press your face to his chest, clinging to him like a lifeline as he strides toward the street. Each jostling step sends the world spinning again.

Something is wrong. Terribly wrong.

Lando lowers you onto a bench outside the club, brushing his knuckles over your cheek. “Talk to me, please. What’s happening?”

You lick your dry lips, forcing words out with monumental effort. “Dizzy … everything … blurry ...”

Lando’s face creases with worry. He pulls out his phone to dial for help, but pauses when you suddenly convulse, muscles seizing. Your back arches, head slamming against the hard bench.

“Shit! Hold on, I’ve got you.” Lando slides his hand under your head, cradling it gently as the seizure wracks your body. Tears stream down his face as he murmurs soothing words, helpless to do anything but wait it out.

After endless moments, the convulsions stop. You go limp, gasping raggedly. The world fades in and out of focus, Lando’s anguished face floating above you.

“Please, baby, stay with me,” he begs, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips. “The ambulance will be here any second.”

You try to respond but darkness crowds the edges of your vision. The last thing you see before slipping into unconsciousness is Lando bent over you, shoulders shaking with sobs as he clutches your motionless hand.

***

Beeping.

Hushed voices.

The astringent scent of disinfectant.

You drift somewhere between waking and oblivion, grasping at fractured memories.

Lando’s face, streaked with tears.

Dancing bodies.

Pulsing lights.

The weight of unwanted hands, dragging you into the shadows.

With a sharp inhale, your eyes fly open. You’re in a hospital room, IV line taped to the back of your hand. Pale morning light filters through the blinds. The beeping comes from a monitor tracking your heartbeat.

“Hey.” Lando sits in a chair beside the bed, leaning forward when he sees you’re awake. His eyes are rimmed with red, hair disheveled. “How are you feeling?”

You try to speak but your throat is painfully dry. Lando grabs a cup of water, angling the straw so you can sip. The cool liquid soothes like a balm, washing away the cottony feeling in your mouth.

“What … what happened?” You rasp out finally.

Lando’s expression turns grim. “Someone drugged you at the club. Probably targeting an easy robbery, but ...” His jaw clenches, hands balling into fists. “If I had been even a few seconds later, he would have ...”

Unable to finish the thought, Lando buries his face in his hands. His shoulders tremble. Your heart aches, and you reach out to comb gentle fingers through his hair.

“But you weren’t,” you say softly. “You saved me.”

He looks up, eyes shining wetly. “I never should have let you out of my sight. If I lost you ...” His breath hitches, raw anguish written across his face.

“Hey, no.” You catch his hand, squeezing firmly. “This wasn’t your fault. You found me in time. That’s all that matters.”

Fresh tears spill down Lando’s cheeks. He brings your entwined hands to his lips, pressing a trembling kiss to your knuckles.

“I was so scared,” he chokes out. “Seeing you like that, helpless, shaking ...” He clenches his jaw, looking away. “And not being able to do anything. Just having to watch ...”

He breaks off with a shuddering breath. You tug gently on his hand, urging him up from the chair. He perches on the edge of the bed, enveloping you in his tender arms. You cling to each other, tears mingling as the enormity of what almost happened sinks in.

After long moments, Lando pulls back to cup your face in both hands. He searches your eyes, still flooded with relief and lingering fear.

“I could have lost you,” he repeats in a shattered whisper.

You cover his hands with your own. “But you didn’t. I’m right here. With you.”

His breath leaves him a rush, the frightened tension easing from his frame. Leaning in, he rests his forehead against yours. The beeping monitor and distant hospital noises fade away, leaving just the two of you suspended in this quiet intimacy.

When Lando finally lifts his head, the fire in his eyes makes your heart stutter.

“I love you,” he says, low and fervent.

You meet Lando’s intense gaze, equally overcome by emotion.

“I love you too,” you breathe.

He cradles your face again, thumbs sweeping feather-light over your cheeks. Slowly, he leans in and presses his lips to yours in a kiss that steals your breath. It’s soft yet saturates you with his passion, fear, relief — every shade of the feelings coursing between you in this moment. You sink into it, hands coming up to twist in his rumpled shirt, keeping him close.

When he pulls back, you’re both a little breathless. Lando smooths your hair, regret pinching his features.

“I should let you rest. The doctor said you’ll probably feel weak and foggy for a few days.”

You give a small shrug. “I don’t feel that bad right now. Just … stay with me?”

He smiles softly. “Of course, love.”

Settling next to you on top of the sheets, he loops an arm around your shoulders. You nestle against him, comforted by his familiar warmth and scent. For a long moment, you simply savor being wrapped in this bubble of solace.

“Do they know who did it yet?” You finally ask, unable to quell your lingering unease about the attack.

Lando shakes his head. “The police looked at security footage but the guy’s face wasn’t visible. They’re still investigating.”

You nod, chewing your lip. Lando tilts your chin up to meet his eyes.

“I won’t let him get away with this,” he says, quiet but fierce. “I’ll do whatever it takes to find him and make sure he never hurts anyone again.”

There’s cold fury underlying his tone that you’ve never heard from him before. It reminds you viscerally of that brief glimpse in the alley — Lando transformed in the heat of protective rage.

But now the fire in his eyes is fanned and smoldering. A determination that won’t relent.

He tightens his arm around you, pressing his lips to your hair. You settle against his chest again, comforted by the steady thump of his heartbeat.

***

A few days later, you’re curled up on the couch with Lando, a movie playing quietly in the background. You’re mostly zoning out, still feeling residual exhaustion. Lando plays idly with your hair, a comforting sensation.

When your phone buzzes with an alert, you grab it lazily, expecting a text from a friend. Instead, a news headline makes you bolt upright.

Lando notices your change in demeanor.

“What is it, love?”

“That man, the one from the club … he was found dead. I would recognize his face anywhere.”

You continue to scan the article. “Doesn’t specify much, just that he was found in an abandoned building across town. Ruled a homicide but no suspects or motive yet.”

You wordlessly tilt the phone screen for him to see. He looks at it blankly, face impassive.

“Oh. Well, perhaps some justice has been served after all.”

You narrow your eyes at his mild tone. “Did you ...”

“Did I what?”

“Have something to do with this?”

Lando presses a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “Me? Now why would you think that?”

“Lando.” You level him with a knowing look. “Did you?”

He meets your gaze steadily for a moment before sighing. “I told you I’d make sure he never hurt anyone again. A man like that doesn’t deserve to keep stealing breaths.”

You absorb this, unsure how to feel. “So you ...”

“I didn’t personally do anything,” Lando hedges. “But I have … connections. People who know people who can handle things quietly.”

You bite your lip. “You had him killed.”

Lando takes your hands in his. “Hey. Look at me. That bastard drugged you, dragged you into an alley. He would have ...” His jaw flexes. “I did what needed to be done to keep you and others safe.”

“I just ...” You wrestle with your conflicted emotions. “I don’t know how I feel about you essentially ordering a hit.”

He drags a hand over his mouth. When he speaks, his voice is low and controlled. “All that matters is he can’t hurt you or anyone else now. Try to remember what he did to you — how you felt. Helpless. Frightened. I wasn’t about to let him continue terrorizing women.”

You take a shaky breath. “No, you’re right. It’s just a lot to wrap my head around.”

Lando caresses your cheek. “You have the biggest, kindest heart of anyone I know. But some people are simply too dangerous to be allowed to go on hurting people. I don’t take this lightly, but there are times when permanent solutions are necessary. Do you understand?”

Up close, you can see the storm of emotions he’s battling to contain. Anger, satisfaction, hints of doubt and guilt. You cup his face.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For protecting me, even if it meant ...”

Lando closes his eyes, leaning into your touch. “I would do anything for you. Anything to keep you safe.” His thumb strokes along your jaw. “You never have to worry. You’ll always be safe with me. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you, no matter what.”

His voice rings with quiet conviction. You cover his hand with your own, meeting his solemn gaze. In this moment, you truly comprehend the depths he’s willing to go for you.

“I know you will,” you whisper. “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me.”

Lando searches your face, shoulders losing their rigid tension when he finds only acceptance and gratitude shining back at him.

“I would be lost without you,” he murmurs.

You lean in, kissing him softly. “You’ll never have to find out.”

Drawing back, you offer a tiny smirk. “And clearly, I should never get on your bad side.”

Lando huffs a surprised laugh. The lingering shadows in his eyes fade as he pulls you close. You sink into his embrace, heartbeat steadying against his.

Whatever lengths Lando went to in order to protect you, to remove the threat hanging over your regained sense of safety, you know you’ll forever be thankful for this devoted, fierce, and tender-hearted man you love.

[xshadowdelta]

FORMER MANAGER

PART 5: PURITY.

Mashiro x Male Reader (4K length)

You observed your face in the reflection of the bathroom mirror, your messy hair, the marks of the sheets on your cheeks and some visible dark circles bordering your eyes, it definitely had not been your best night. You had barely slept, tossing and turning in bed all night while your head was spinning around the scene with Jang Wonyoung.

The image of her crying wouldn't disappear from your mind no matter how hard you tried, but how did this happen in the first place? The last memory you had of her was when you said goodbye years ago before returning home, back then she also cried, but this time it was totally different, her look of disappointment on you disturbed you even more than her tears.

You catched some water from the sink, throwing it over your face, trying to clear yourself up and wake up a little, because you had to continue with your life and your work, you would find a free time lapse to be able to fix this problem.

You showered, fixed your hair, and hid the traces of a terrible night on your face as well as you could before getting dressed and leaving your apartment heading to the company.

You arrived at the building where as soon as you entered, your boss was waiting for you, folder in hand, and while you both walked he explained the itinerary of the day and the schedule for the upcoming weeks. Kep1er’s members had returned from their last shows abroad, there had been a few changes at the management level, and a new comeback was already planned, so the work was going to be hard and intense.

Both of you stopped in front of one of the practice rooms, a light touch of your coworker knuckles on the door and you entered inside, a group of girls who were stretching stared at you.

“Good morning girls.” Your partner began to speak. “Before starting preparations for this new album I want to introduce you to your new full-time manager, starting on today he will take care of all of you and about everything you need.” He exclaimed, indicating for you to introduce yourself to them with a gesture of his hand.

You bowed them instantly. “Nice to meet you! I will be at your service from now on, I hope we get along well.” You said a little nervous, a feeling that disappeared when you saw the smiles and applause they offered you. “Nice to meet you, please treat us well!” They all said in unison bowing to you aswell.

"Good." Your boss interrupted. “The dance teacher will come right away to show you and start practicing the new choreographies, I hope the best from all of you. “Fighting!” He said with his fist, before handing you the information folder and leaving the room.

You watched him leave and when you looked back you jumped when you realized how the Kep1er girls had surrounded you, occupying any personal space you could have, their eyes analyzing you carefully.

"Hello!" One of them greeted with a huge smile on her face. “I'm the leader Yujin, nice to meet you, it's incredible, it's the first time I have such a young manager.” You smiled shyly, uncomfortable with the circle of people that had formed around you.

“Wow, can I call you oppa?” A girl with pink hair and rounded cheeks asked next to her, if you were not mistaken it was Kim Chaehyun, you nodded affirmatively at her question causing her to laugh.

You noticed that penetrating eyes were focused on you to the point that you realized that gaze was passing through you, you made eye contact with it, increasing your nervousness.

“Is something wrong, Xiaoting?” You asked softly making the mentioned girl blink a few times. “Do you know my name already?” She questioned surprised. “Our new manager has studied a lot!” Dayeon shouted, starting to laugh and causing the rest of the members to laugh.

“Look at his dark eyes, he sure hasn't been able to sleep all night!” Hikaru joked, releasing one of her particular laughs that resonated throughout the room, increasing the volume and joy of the rest of the members.

These girls were really loud and restless, they were going to give you a lot of headaches, yet a smile was drawn on your lips and for a while you forgot about the rest of your problems.

The dance teacher appeared and the morning passed with the girls memorizing and practicing the new choreographies, so you took the opportunity to go to your office to work on other aspects such as contacting the wardrobe team, making venue reservations where the filming would be done, hire the recording equipment.

The days went by and with the amount of work you had it was impossible to even think about Wonyoung. Your relationship with the members of Kep1er was improving and due to the characteristics of these girls, in just a week it seemed like you had been together since their debut, and that was something that relieved you and made everything much more enjoyable.

This day in question the girls would spend it in the recording studio, testing their vocals and recording the songs for the new album, so really your presence there was not very significant so your task for the day was to clean and organize everything in the house.

If you already hated doing housework, doing it in a home full of girls made you hate it excessively. A multitude of clothes scattered throughout the rooms, boxes and cardboard in every corner.

You were infinitely grateful to Bahiyyih for trying to keep the house in order, saving you some work, but the whirlwind that was Chaehyun Dayeon and Hikaru was simply unstoppable.

You finished off the apartment Yujin Bahiyyih Chaehyun and Xiaoting shared and headed upstairs to start cleaning the next one. You hadn't been there for long but there was a room that you had not yet accessed, it was a two-bed bedroom that did not belong to anyone in the group but that had serious signs of having been habited before, it was perfectly arranged and there were still clothes hanging in the closet.

You inspected said clothes, leaving them on one of the beds, you opened the drawers looking to know what, and this really had you confused.

“W-W-Who are you? What are you doing with my clothes?” A sudden voice surprised and scared you, almost making you fall on the bed when you turned to look at the door frame of the room, finding a small girl with brown hair and a rather cute appearance carrying a cardboard box in her hands, looking at you in a scared way.

“That's what I should ask, how did you get in here? The door has a password, and what's with your clothes?” You were trying to appear as calm as possible but you were really uneasy with that presence.

“Don't tell me…A SASAENG!” You both shouted at the same time, pointing your fingers at each other.  "WHAT? ME?" Now your fingers were pointing towards yourselves.

“It's over I'm going to call the police.” The girl said, dropping the box and taking her mobile phone out of her pants pocket.

“That's exactly what I'm going to do, look at this.” You said, taking out the company ID, surprising the girl.

"Huh?"

.

.

.

.

“I'm sorry again, I had no idea you were the new manager.” The girl said with her head down, looking at the ground, feeling guilty for the previous misunderstanding.

“The mistake was mine for not having recognized you before, Mashiro-shi.” Now you knew who this room belonged to.

Apparently, and after left the grou, both Mashiro and Yeseo had been terribly busy with their new group and their own activities that they had been coming and going to the house making small moves of their things. However some things of their property were still there.

“If you need help with your…”

“Oh no no, please, I'm sure you're very busy, I don't want to bother you.” She commented, making notable gestures with her hands. You smiled at how adorable that was.

“The rest of the members say that you and Yeseo will continue to be part of Kep1er forever…” You commented, bending down to pick up the cardboard box from the floor and put it on the bed, opening it. “So now I'm also your manager, okay Mashiro-chan?” You smiled warmly at her causing her cheeks to turn a deep pink color.

“O-O-Okay” She agreed shyly, approaching you and helping you pack more clothes from her closet.

Together you cleared out the closet and packed all the clothes, and you organized the rest of the room and cleaned it. You glanced at Mashiro from time to time, even with that strange first impression you had with her, you really thought she was a super adorable girl. Her small stature, her beautiful face and the dimples that were marked on her cheeks reaffirmed it.

“What do you think of the members?” She asked casually while doing her task, your gaze drifted towards the ceiling, sketching a slight smile after a few seconds of thought.

“Noisy.” You responded simply causing her to giggle, covering her mouth with one of her hands.

“I understand you perfectly.” She supported you.

“But they are really amazing.” You continued. “They spend the day laughing and making a fuss but they don't lower the effort they put into their practices one bit, sometimes I envy them. I would also like to enjoy my work like they do.” Out of the corner of my eye you could notice a small smile melancholy on her face, so you decided not to say anything else and continue with the cleaning.

You walked over to one of the nightstands next to one of the beds to open the drawers, see what they kept and see if there was anything else that needed to be packed.

“Don't open that!” Mashiro screamed hysterically, throwing herself on the bed trying to stop you but you had already opened the drawer. You looked at her confused, even more so when she threw her hands over her face trying to hide herself, while her ears turned red.

You looked down, looking at the vibrator that was inside the drawer, blushing too and quickly moving away, falling on your ass to the floor.

"I'm sorry."  You whispered embarrassed, unable to look up, noticing how your face was burning.

“Noooooo…how embarrassing.” Mashiro sobbed, rolling on the bed. You grabbed a lock of your hair, analyzing the situation, looking for the right words for a moment like this.

“There is nothing to be ashamed of Mashiro, it is something totally normal for someone your age and…Mashiro?” You were absorbed as you looked up to see directly at the girl who was still sobbing, covering her face with one hand, while the other was now rubbing her crotch over her pants. So those sounds weren't sobs, they were moans.

You saw how she relaxed her body and lie down on the bed. The hand that covered her face no longer did so, she was now looking at you clearly, intently, a look very different from what you had seen from her before.

“It has been such a hard, stressful and emotional weeks. Leaving one group to enter another, new members, comeback, and performances. Even now all the responsibility of being a leader falls on my shoulders.”

“Mashiro…” Your words were interrupted by a new moan.

“And I forgot my stress reliever during the move, I tried using my fingers but they didn't have the same effect…” You turned your gaze to the vibrator and took it in your hands, Mashiro's eyes did not take their eyes off the device. You turned it on, listening to the vibrations it produced, making Mashiro groan in despair.

“You said before that you were also my manager…” The Japanese girl began to say. “So, I need your help, manager oppa, please…” You swallowed after hearing that request of deep need in her tone of voice.

You stood up and approached the bed, sitting on the edge near Mashiro, who lowered the zipper of her sweatshirt a little, revealing a bit of the shirt she was wearing underneath and then, moving against the bed, she managed to lower her pants until her underwear was visible.

“You are very wet Mashiro-chan.” You commented looking at the huge stain that had appeared on her panties. “You really are so needy…”

She didn't respond but she brought her hand back to where the stain was now, caressing herself again with circular movements, closing her eyes enjoying her own touch.

When she stopped she opened her eyes to look deeply at you, eyes that were screaming for your help. You sighed and got even closer to her body, vibrator in hand, gently bringing it to her desired area, coming into contact causing Mashiro's back to arch due to excitement.

“Yes, please…” She continued asking needily.

You pushed aside the fabric of her panties, visualizing her wonderful pink pussy completely flooded that was crying out for pleasure.

The sex toy now caressed Mashiro's folds mercilessly, forcing her to moan loudly, her eyes closed again enjoying the waves of pleasure that ran through her body.

That scene was fucking erotic for you, so much so that a huge bulge peeked out from between your pants. With your free hand you managed to free that bulge from outside your clothes, however it was somewhat difficult to satisfy both of you at the same time.

A naughty idea crossed your mind. If you were busy offering pleasure to Mashiro she was free to give it to you, so you took her hand closest to you and placed it around your cock.

Upon feeling that she opened her eyes again, offering you a small smile when she knew your intentions, grabbing your penis tightly and beginning to move her hand up and down constantly.

“Oppa hentai…” She whispered, biting her lip, watching how she was masturbating you.

“It's your fault in the first place…” You responded, emitting the occasional small moan caused by her touch, and lowering the zipper of her sweatshirt completely with your free hand, allowing yourself to caressing her stomach and her hips.

You threw the vibrator to the side of the bed and began to caress her pussy with your own hand, separating her folds with your fingers and inserting a couple of them inside causing a squeal of surprise from her.

“Shit oppa…it feels so good…”

“A girl as adorable as you talking so dirty.” You said increasing the pace of your caresses on her pussy, feeling how your hand became wet with Mashiro's fluids.

“You love when I talk dirty, right oppa?” She asked continuing the caresses on your penis. “It hasn't stopped growing…”

You smiled, leaning over her body, placing a few kisses across her bare stomach. She released her grip on your cock to allow you to position yourself more comfortably on top of her, slipping your hands under her shirt touching everything within reach.

Mashiro slowly melted under your body, moaning louder and louder as your fingers caressed her tits. She was breathing heavily and her hair fell over her forehead giving it an even sexier touch, her entire face was flushed and hot.

Due to the constant movement of your bodies on each other there was a moment where your cock rubbed against Mashiro's pussy, tensing her body and placing her hands against your chest, pushing you away slightly.

You raised an eyebrow in confusion, realizing how hot this whole scene had become and how you had gotten carried away with it.

“I'm sorry if I…

“I have only used that vibrator… I have never had anything inside me beyond my fingers, I am completely a virgin.” She admitted, looking away embarrassed.

"It’s okay." You whispered softly, offering her a smile, caressing her right cheek with your hand. She took your hand and let herself be caressed by you.

“It's really strange and we just met...but I feel very comfortable with you, oppa. Although I don't think I'm ready to cross that line yet, I'm sorry.”

“You don't have to apologize for anything.”  You leaned your head over her, kissing her lips, being instantly reciprocated by her, lightly biting her lower lip, drawing a moan from her and allowing your tongue to explore every corner of Mashiro's mouth.

“Oppa.” A thread of saliva separated your mouth from Mashiro's. “I need an orgasm.”

You smiled, recovering the vibrator lost in some corner of the bed, activating it again, this time with more power making the girl's body tremble.

“OH FUCK!” Squeals and moans came non-stop from the idol's mouth as you rubbed the toy again and again over her weak area.

You alternated the vibrator with the caresses that you provided with your hands. You lay down on the bed next to Mashiro without stopping masturbating her, she quickly took your cock again with one of her hands and now you were both pleasuring each other.

You inserted two of your fingers inside her completely tight pussy, stretching it slightly feeling her walls contract against your fingers. The girl's hips moved unconsciously as the moans did not stop and her grip on your cock tightened.

You then stroked her clit with your thumb, which was like touching the self-destruct button on Mashiro's body. You touched and pressed her clit as much as you could until her back arched again and a huge scream escaped her mouth.

Her body hit the mattress again, her chest rising and falling excitedly. It took her a few seconds to catch her breath and recover from that orgasm, she turned to look at you and you quickly wiped away some tears that were now flowing from her eyes with your hand.

“God…you're better than any toy, oppa.” Despite continuing to pant, her smile was wide, she laughed at herself for the situation she found herself in.

You laughed, also flattered but somewhat embarrassed by her comment. You tried to get up to get out of bed but Mashiro immediately stopped you and forced you to lie down, surprising you with her sudden reaction.

“Wait, you're not done yet.” She said and then you looked down at your penis.

“Please let me help you, oppa.” Mashiro demanded in distress, because she had been able to free herself thanks to your touch and you, on the other hand, were still hard.

How were you going to refuse that, you thought, lowering the clothes that covered your lower area to your ankles, leaving your member in full view. Mashiro was stunned to see it like that.

“It's even bigger…” She whispered, wrapping her hand around it again, beginning to cover it completely and therefore starting the massage.

You let out a moan and bit your lip. Under normal conditions it would take you long enough to cum to get a long treatment, but the hard work of these last few days had taken its toll on you too. You hadn't downloaded for days, even weeks, and none of the Iz*One girls had crossed your path during this time, so you and your friend were especially sensitive at the moment.

That Mashiro was inexperienced was obvious, not only because she had confessed to being a virgin, it was obvious that it was the first time she had masturbated someone.

She did it delicately but nervously, her hand trembled on your cock, so you decided to help her, placing one of your hands on hers, guiding her on top of you. This helped her to calm down and gain confidence, copying the rhythm that you were setting.

You moved your hand away once you saw her more prepared and in response to that she wrapped her other hand around your penis as well.

Now both of the girl's hands were working on your erect dick, covering the entire length between them, with slow and delicate movements that made you shudder.

Your moans began to get uncontrolled due to her touch, giving her more and more encouragement and causing the pace of masturbation to increase.

Her two hands worked now at high speed on your penis, with enveloping movements, noticing how it swelled and began to tremble.

“Shit...Mashiro-chan I'm about to...” You couldn't finish the warning when the first shot was propelled upwards, surprising the girl by seeing that white liquid escape from the tip of your penis.

After the first, the rest of the shots followed, progressively decreasing the intensity with each one until finally there was not a single drop left inside you.

Mashiro's hands raised the skin of your penis one last time, observing the brilliance that the tip of your penis now offered. Finally she let you go and you were able to sit up on the bed, seeing the mess that had formed on your abdomen, now covered in your own sperm.

You diverted your gaze towards Mashiro whose eyes did not stop observing that increasingly sticky area.

You moved your hand towards it, taking some of the sperm with your fingers and looked back at the girl, who now looked back at you.

"Do you want to try it?" You asked, smiling sideways, sneaking into her thoughts. She did not utter a word due to shyness and embarrassment but nodded affirmatively.

You brought your fingers closer to her face and she closed her eyes, opening her mouth, allowing you to insert them inside, licking and tasting your seed. Her tongue moved between your fingers, wetting them but absorbing all the liquid they were impregnated with.

She opened her mouth again for you to remove your fingers and you looked at each other.

"It is...you are...you taste delicious..." She admitted self-consciously but happy and satisfied. “C-C-Can I take some more?”

A few seconds later you had Mashiro leaning over you licking all the remains of sperm that were on your abdomen and thighs. That was making you hard again but you knew you had a line that you must not to cross.

The idol's tongue cleaned you completely, savoring every last bit of liquid she could get, repeating to herself how delicious it tasted. Once she was over with you, you left the room for a moment to go to the bathroom, cleaning yourself and put your clothes back on properly, when you returned Mashiro was also dressed.

You inserted the vibrator into the cardboard box, camouflaged between several layers of clothing, and took it into your arms, despite the girl's insistence that she could carry the box.

You went down together to the street, parked there was one of Mashiro's new group's cars waiting to pick her up.

"Thanks for everything, manager oppa." Mashiro smiled sweetly at you.

"Keep this between us, okay?" She nodded briskly heading to the car, turning around before opening the door.

"I'll think about you the next time." Those words caught you off guard, making you blush.

You watched as the car disappeared into the distance of the street, blending into the traffic. You sighed and walked back up the stairs to the apartment, there was still a lot to clean.

Just when you were about to grab the broom again the phone in your pocket started ringing, you picked up after reading the name of the caller and brought it to your ear.

“Finally, I only had to call you 7 times to get a callback.” You heard a sleepy yawn from the other side.

“I've been non-stop for months, many performances, shootings, ceremony awards, and exhausting trips, you know. I deserved a good restful sleep…of 14 hours.”

“Of course, we must keep the star Ahn Yujin in good condition.” Your laughter dissipated as you took a more serious tone. “I need to talk to you.”

“Yeah, I know. See you in like 1 hour? I will send you the location.”

“Sure, see you.”

You hung up the call and heaved a long sigh, rushing to get all the work done. You had a date in an hour.

[purinfelix]

you're here, that's the thing ˚⟡˖ ࣪ - franco colapinto

summary: your boyfriend tries his best to make your schedules, as a racer and student, work - even when miles apart w/c: 900

a/n: it's finals season for me and i needed to write something self-indulgent as a break from cramming forgive me 🙏

Being a full-time student was one thing, but being a full-time student in a relationship with an extremely clingy boyfriend, who also happened to be travelling the world to race in Formula One, was a whole other challenge.

You and Franco had had some time to adjust to a long-distance relationship since you started dating, having such different lives, and managed to make it work for the most part. But now, with him having to wholly commit to his racing and finals season rolling around for you, it put a strain on your relationship that neither of you was ready for.

It was a strange paradox - the less free time you had outside of classes and studying, the less you were able to spend talking to him, and the more you wanted just to drop everything and fly to where he was. Your morning texts and voice message updates stopped being enough, and before you knew it you struggled to go longer than an hour studying without sending your boyfriend a message to whine and complain.

You were fully aware of how immature and irresponsible this was, but this awareness did little to stop you. And it didn't exactly help that Franco seemed to share the same sentiment, telling you again and again how hard it was for him as well, how racing seemed almost impossible without you there to cheer him on. It hurt, but the two of you just had to do everything you could to get through it - for you to focus on your studies and for him to try his best at racing.

All this came to a head one Sunday though, the afternoon before one of your final exams and - because of the time difference - the night before Franco's next race. Sitting in your dorm alone, surrounded by piles of textbooks, notes and scattered pens you felt a sudden jolt of vulnerability and before you knew it you were reaching for your phone.

"Can you call?" you typed quickly to your boyfriend, your eyes lighting up upon seeing the three dots begin moving almost instantly.

"My gosh, I was just going to ask you the same thing," he replied, and before you knew it your phone was springing to life with a call from him. Clicking accept, you couldn't help but smile widely at the sight of his face.

"Hi," you say, almost shyly.

"Hi baby, how are you?"

"Good," you pause, "stressed."

He nods understandingly, "You're holding up okay, hm? Taking care of yourself?"

"Of course, Franco," you laugh at his almost motherly concern, "and you?"

"Nervous, of course."

"Well, that makes two of us." You pause after speaking, for some reason this call is turning out less enjoyable and more awkward than you hoped.

"I'm sorry, I'm just really tired," you hear your boyfriend say and when you look up you can definitely see it, his eyelids half closing over deep, dark circles under them.

"Do you want to sleep? I have to study anyways."

You watch as he chews his bottom lip, thinking of what to say though once he finally talks his voice is small, almost like a confession. "But I wanted to talk to you."

"We are talking Franco, and we can talk tomorrow once you rest."

This doesn't seem to quell his worries though, his brows still knitted in thought. "I just feel so useless knowing that you're struggling and stressed and I can't even keep you company like I normally do."

You nod sympathetically until an idea pops into your head. "We can keep the call on, carry me over to your bed - you'll sleep and I'll study."

Even through the fatigue pulling him down, Franco nods enthusiastically, doing as you say. You watch him sink into the plush white bedsheets of whatever hotel he's in, and whilst you feel a little jealous at his ability to rest right now, you turn back to your desk and start pulling out your notes.

"You'll be okay," you hear him mumble.

"What do you mean?"

"With your exams," he smiles sleepily, eyes flitting as he watches you pick up your highlighters and pens, "you're the smartest person I know."

"I don't know how much that's saying, you didn't even finish high school baby."

"Hey! I was trying to be nice," he says, feigning offence though there's a soft smile across his face.

"You're right, I'm sorry," you laugh, "you'll be okay as well, with your race tomorrow."

"I hope so."

"I know so."

"I wish you were here," he sighs, looking at you earnestly and all you can do is give him a nod in agreement.

"But for now," you wave your pen to hint at the fact that you need to get back to cramming and he seems to get the hint.

"Right, right, you won't even know I'm here," he assures you.

And despite that, the entire night passes without you once forgetting it. Not that he's distracting or anything, in fact he falls asleep mere minutes after telling you that - leaving you to work peacefully for the rest of the night. Instead, his presence, even as he sleeps, even through a screen and halfway across the world, is enough. You find yourself smiling as you study because maybe having a long-distance boyfriend, even one as clingy as Franco, has been a blessing in disguise all this time.

[yazmarina]

dime, ¿esto es lo que tú quería'?

charles leclerc and oscar piastri x fem!reader

how about a reward for monaco's p1 and p2?

warnings/notes: smut, threesome, a blowjob, slight degradation, dirty talk, unprotected sex (wrap it up, people!!!), cumshot, creampie, gagging, light choking

a/n: very ambitious and would not set me free until i wrote it...so please enjoy <3

.

You really had no idea how you ended up here.

Arthur is a good friend of yours, having met him when you first came to work for Ferrari under the communication department, mostly being assigned to handle the Academy and development drivers' communication needs. You and Arthur got on well, and eventually, you were hanging out with him and his other friends on the weekends.

The two of you were strictly friendly, something you've had to clear out multiple times to work superiors, nosy colleagues, insistent reporters, you name it.

Arthur isn't your type, point blank, period.

His older brother was a different topic altogether.

Charles was sensitive, artistic, a prince charming in all aspects. Being in close proximity to Arthur meant you spent some time with Charles, too, but those were few and far between and every time you were within five feet of Charles, you were reduced to a tongue-tied mess.

Regardless, Arthur insisted you come along to the celebrations after Charles' most recent win in Monaco.

"Charles knows who you are and you're my friend. He won't mind," Arthur pleaded earlier that day as you were packing up after the podium celebrations.

"What if you go running off and I'm left alone?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I won't go running off," Arthur promised. "I'll be with you the whole night. I'll even help you look for a guy you can go home with!"

And yet you're here in the present, sitting on a couch in the VIP section, alone.

Well, not really. You're surrounded by people but none of them are talking to you. Arthur had gone to get more drinks half an hour ago and you know by now that he probably was sidetracked by other friends or something to that effect.

You have half a mind to call it a night, your hand already reaching for your purse, when you hear a voice call out.

"________! You're here!"

You look up and your heart seems to jump right into your throat.

Charles is beaming down at you, a flag of Monaco draped around his shoulders, his previously styled hair now sticking up in all directions.

You caught a glimpse of Charles earlier when you arrived with Arthur, but the race winner was too busy doing shots for you to have properly said hi.

But he's here now. And he's sliding into the space beside you.

"Where's Arthur?" Charles asks, reaching for an unopened Heineken on the table in front of you.

"I have no idea," you half-yell, leaning closer so Charles could hear. You feel goosebumps erupt on your skin when Charles lays a tentative hand on your back.

"You can spend time with me, then," Charles grins, moving his arm further so it fully wraps around your shoulders.

A nervous laugh escapes you but your instinct is to lean even further into Charles' touch. He's still smiling at you, though clearly inebriated with the way his eyes seem out of focus.

"Ah, Oscar!"

You turn your head to see the other third of the podium finishers, Osar Piastri himself.

"Hey!" he calls over the din of the music. "I can't find anyone! I think they just abandoned me," Oscar adds, laughing.

He takes the seat on your left, effectively sandwiching you between him and Charles. You smile politely at Oscar, reaching your hand out.

"Hi, I'm ______," you say, smiling wider as Oscar takes your hand in his and squeezes.

"I'm Oscar," he says then pauses, realizing that you probably already knew who he was if you were any friend of Charles'. He laughs, practically giggles, hiding his face in his hand.

"Sorry, I see you around the paddock sometimes, so I probably didn't need to do that," Oscar explains, cheeks turning pink, or at least you think they do, given that the lighting in this club is atrocious.

Oscar is still holding your hand and you can tell that he's tipsy too by the way he's smiling, eyes hooded and sleepy-looking.

"________ is part of communications in Ferrari," Charles explains, rubbing his thumb over the exposed skin of your shoulder. You turn to look at Charles, and the way he gazes back at you, a half smile on his lips, breath hot on your cheek, has your heart pounding incessantly against your chest.

"She's very efficient," Charles praises with a chuckle. "I like seeing her around when she works."

You make a move to swat at Charles' thigh as if to tell him off. "Stop it, I'm not at enough races for you to see me that often."

You're laughing, mostly in disbelief at the words that just came out of Charles' mouth. He likes seeing you around?

Charles shrugs. "But when you are, I notice."

You feel your neck heat up and even more so when Charles maneuvers you closer, seemingly protective. If you moved any more, you'd be on Charles' lap.

Oscar eyes the two of you and you'd give anything to read the thoughts in his head right now. The younger man locks eyes with you and smiles, sweetly at first, but then his pupils glance down briefly at your chest, barely covered by the tube top you decided to don for the evening.

The sweetness quickly melts away as Oscar bites his lip.

"You're close, then?" Oscar asks casually, scooting closer to you and Charles.

"Arthur and her are good friends," Charles points out.

"So I guess by default, _______ and I are good friends, too."

You laugh and Oscar is grinning once more at you, and god does he look handsome under these lights. You can tell that he wants to come even closer, his fingers tapping nervously on his knee. Some slow song is playing over the speakers, bass loaded and making the entire place vibrate.

You reach out, laying a hand on Oscar's thigh, squeezing just enough to get the point across.

Oscar looks over at Charles and you follow his line of sight, seeing some sort of unspoken agreement cross the two drivers.

Charles dips his head, moving even closer to you. He breathes out right next to your ear and you shiver.

"Ma chèrie," he begins. "I think we need to take this somewhere else."

You turn to look at Charles, blood roaring in your ears. "What?"

Charles looks straight into your eyes as if searching for something. He rubs a soothing hand down your back, letting it settle on your waist.

"You want to, no?" Charles asks, momentarily glancing up at Oscar. "With me and him?"

You feel a rush of excitement course through you. Surely, this isn't happening. The idea of Charles bringing you home crossed your mind briefly the moment he touched you earlier, but that's as far as you allowed yourself to imagine. But the remnants of alcohol in your system and the intoxicating atmosphere of the club must have gotten to you with the way you so brazenly made a move on Oscar.

And now you reap what you sow.

"We can hang out at my place," Oscar throws out nonchalantly as if he was simply inviting you and Charles to more drinks at his apartment.

"I just moved in and it could use a little...housewarming," Oscar adds with a pointed look.

Charles bursts out laughing, leaning down to press a kiss to your shoulder before nuzzling into the side of your neck. You glance around, hyperaware that all eyes have been on Charles the whole night, and for sure it isn't any different now.

"Andiamo," Charles whispers. "We'll make it good."

Let's go. Your months of Italian as a prerequisite to working in Ferrari barely register with you now.

Oscar slips his own hand over your thigh, his large palm covering an expanse of your skin.

"You'll love the view from my balcony," Oscar offers, tilting his head towards you. He smiles, innocent and sweet once more, simultaneously squeezing at the flesh of your thigh.

You bite your lip, suppressing whatever sounds that threatened to come out.

-

You thought you'd never make it out of the car ride to Oscar's place.

Oscar had brought his own ride and being much, much more sober than both you and Charles, he took the initiative to drive. You and Charles piled into the backseat, giggling.

"Not fair, you guys," Oscar teased from the front, eyeing you through the rearview mirror. Charles merely snickers, hands sneaking up over your chest as you settle on his lap.

"Eyes on the road, Oscar," Charles ordered, yanking your top down, exposing yourself fully to Oscar. You gasped, the cold air of the air-conditioning lending to the stiffening of your nipples. Charles began to toy with them, pinching and rolling them between his fingers, reducing you to a speechless mess. You noticed just how hard Oscar was gripping the steering wheel, tight enough that his knuckles were drained of color.

You barely had time to cover yourself back up once you got to Oscar's place, with Charles tugging you out of the car as soon as Oscar killed the ignition. The younger of the two comes around to your side of the car as you and Charles stumble out. Oscar takes your hand in his and leans down briefly to kiss you, tongue darting out to lick at the seam of your lips.

Oscar pulls away, sending Charles a look. "I was on the podium, too, mate."

"Ah, sorry Oscar," Charles says lightheartedly. "Sharing isn't really my strong suit. But for her, I will try."

Charles lands a smack on your ass, the sound loud enough to make you flinch. You involuntarily whine at the sting, tripping over your feet a bit. Oscar steadies you, laughing along with Charles.

"We're gonna have so much fun with you, chèrie," Charles teases, kissing your cheek.

The elevator ride is even worse. Or better. You can't decide.

It's just the three of you, and you're backed up into the corner, Charles being the handsier of the two, creeping both hands up your sides, his knee pushing between your legs.

"Ch-Charles, not here," you manage to warn. He increases the pressure against your core, grinning as he watches you shiver.

Oscar watches from the side, arms crossed, leaning casually against the elevator wall. You meet his gaze and he winks, smiling languidly just as Charles kisses down the side of your neck.

Soon enough, the elevator doors open and you push Charles away, startled to see a pair of middle-aged women waiting on the other side. You hurry past them out into the hallway, following Oscar who saunters down towards the end with an easy step.

"Right here," Oscar declares, unlocking a door at the very end. Charles guides you inside just as Oscar turns the light on.

The living room is spacious, with a single couch and coffee table occupying it. A deep blue rug breaks the cream flooring. Past the receiving area is the dining and kitchen, set against floor-to-ceiling windows, a staple of Monegasque apartments, as you've come to figure out. A hallway veers to the right.

"You weren't kidding about the view," you comment, taking in the night sky and the sprawling harbor.

Oscar turns back to you, and only now do you get a good look at him. The first three buttons of his shirt undone, his hair the right kind of messy, and his eyes, darker than what you're used to.

"The view in here is just as good," Oscar replies, eyes raking over your body. He reaches out, a hand resting on your waist.

"May I?" Charles whispers from behind you, tugging down the zip of your skirt. He gets it open and you let it fall to your feet, kicking it off to the side.

"So pretty," Charles adds, kissing along your upper back. Oscar hikes your top up and you let him pull it over your head, leaving you bare, save for your panties.

"I could see your tits through your shirt the whole night," Oscar comments, pointer fingers ghosting over your nipples. "Imagined what they might look like."

You gasp, leaning further back into Charles. You had no idea Oscar had that kind of mouth on him.

It turned you on to no end.

"Better than what you imagined?" You breathe out, Charles' fingers making their way over your mound, pressing over the wet spot on your underwear.

"Chèrie, you're so wet," Charles curses, rubbing you through the thin fabric. "Will you let me get a taste of you, hm?"

You nod frantically, already buckling under the lightest of touch from both men. You can only imagine how pathetic you look right now, stripped bare, with them still fully clothed.

"We should move this to the room," Oscar offers, delivering a final pinch to both of your nipples. You yelp as Oscar chuckles darkly, taking your hand in his.

It hasn't even fully started and you're already made to do the walk of shame.

Oscar's walls are still mostly bare but you feel exposed somehow, shivering despite the fairly warm temperature. He leads you and Charles to the door at the end of the hall, stepping inside while undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt.

You're met with large double doors on one side of the room, leading to, what you can only assume, is a large balcony.

"We can do it with a view, amour," Charles says, wrapping both arms around your waist.

Oscar shrugs his shirt off and you watch as his muscles flex beneath his skin, taut and defined.

"We sure can," Oscar agrees, flinging the doors to his balcony open. The cool night breeze blows past your face and you sigh, heart rate picking up even more.

Charles gently maneuvers you closer to the open doors and your hands start to clam up. Shit, are you really doing this?

"W-Wait," you mutter. "Won't anyone see?"

Oscar approaches you, pointer finger hooking into your underwear. He tugs at it harshly, yanking it halfway off.

"We don't have to do it outside if you don't want to," Oscar says, voice low. He looks at Charles. "Don't wanna get kicked out after I've just moved in."

Charles snickers. "The bed is right there. We'll leave the doors open and let them hear you, instead."

And it's true. The bed is directly in front of the balcony doors, moonlight spilling onto Oscar's navy blue sheets. Oscar grabs fully at your soiled panties now, ripping them clean off.

You gasp, but any shock is melted away when you see Oscar ball up the torn fabric in his hand, bringing it closer to your face. He raises his eyebrows as if questioning you.

"Yes? No?" He asks, tapping beneath your chin. It clicks a little late what Oscar is asking of you but you nod, parting your lips.

Oscar grins, pushing your panties into your mouth.

Fuck.

You hear the metal clang of a belt being unbuckled behind you, followed by the crinkle of fabric as Charles lets his pants and underwear pool around his ankles.

"You and I are going to have so much fun with her, no, Oscar?" Charles asks, a hint of mischief in his voice.

Oscar undoes the button of his pants as well. "Yes, we are."

"How do you want to do this, baby?" Charles addresses you, taking hold of your hips. "Tell us."

"And maybe if you're good, we'll give you what you want," Oscar adds, a hand sliding up your chest before resting around your neck. Your breath hitches as you feel Oscar test the waters, squeezing lightly.

"Oh, wait," Charles laughs condescendingly. "She can't talk."

There's a glint in Oscar's eyes as he adds pressure around your neck. "Guess we have to decide for her then."

You whimper, arms reaching out to wrap around Oscar's own neck. He smiles at you, almost warmly, but you can still see the bubbling desire in his irises.

"You can take the gag out any time you want," Oscar instructs softly, releasing your neck. You take in a big breath through your nose.

"And if you don't like anything we're doing, say 'Monte Carlo'," Oscar adds. He nods at Charles and you feel yourself being pulled backward.

"Get on the bed," Charles commands and you scramble to do so, crawling over the mattress before turning around and laying back on your elbows.

Charles and Oscar eye you intently and you're tempted to cover yourself, but with how they've been acting the whole night, you're not sure how that would be received.

"You wanna go first?" Oscar nudges Charles lightly. The Monegasque grins widely like a kid on Christmas.

"Oh, yes," Charles concedes, getting on the bed with you. He scoots down so his face is level with your cunt.

"Hold tight, my love," Charles says before licking a thick stripe up your core. Your whole body jerks and you cry around the gag in your mouth.

Charles continues to work on your dripping pussy, alternating between flicking against your clit and circling your hole. You moan and whine and whimper, eyes tearing up as you look pleadingly at Oscar.

"Look at you," Oscar laughs. "We've barely done anything."

Charles spreads your legs even wider, licking even deeper. You're fully crying now, the buildup proving too much as you feel your body shake at your approaching orgasm.

Oscar reaches over and toys with your boobs, brushing over your nipples just the way you like it. Without warning, Oscar dips his head down and takes one in his mouth, circling the nub with his own tongue.

The added sensation nearly drives you crazy. The pressure builds rapidly inside you and you're left incoherent as you beg without words.

Not yet, fuck, I can't cum that fast–

You twitch and involuntarily press your pussy harshly against Charles' mouth as you come undone, toes curling and body seizing up. Oscar pulls away and watches as you throw your head back, fingers twisting into the sheets.

"Already?" You hear Charles' voice through the ringing in your ears. "You must really want it."

You blink through your tears, momentarily confused as you see Oscar reach for your face. You cough as you feel the dry fabric being pulled out from your mouth. Oscar tosses your ruined underwear to the side.

"I think she deserves a reward for getting there so fast," Oscar suggests, turning to Charles.

"Which one do you want a taste of first? You get to pick, sweetheart," Oscar says, wiping a stray line of drool dripping down the side of your mouth.

"Ch-Charles," you croak, throat still dry.

Charles and Oscar share a curt nod and the former moves to the head of the bed.

"Hands and knees, my love," Charles orders and you follow, getting on all fours. He settles against the headboard, leaning back as you take his cock in your hand.

"Guess you want me here, then?" Oscar says from behind you. You turn to peek over your shoulder to see Oscar stroking languidly at his cock, one of his hands coming down to spread your ass apart.

"Fuck, this view," Oscar hisses, smacking your ass once.

"I reckon, you don't need me to prep you? I can just–"

You shriek as you feel Oscar push in without warning, and though it was a surprise, the obscene amount of arousal coming from your cunt aids in the stretch that Oscar's cock brings.

He fully sheathes himself inside and he groans, grabbing your hips with both hands.

"Chèrie." Charles' voice forces your attention back to him.

"Don't forget about me, hm?"

You try to compose yourself as best as you can as Oscar starts to fuck you at a relentless pace. You lower your mouth down to Charles' cock, wrapping your lips around the tip.

You take half of him in, coating him in your spit, going lower each time you come down. Charles is nearly as incoherent as you were earlier, curse words in three different languages falling from his lips.

You feel the tip of his cock reach the back of your throat and you stop, gagging around it. Charles threads his fingers through your hair, yanking you back up.

"Open your mouth," Charles says, tightening the grip on your hair.

You do as you're told and Charles angles himself better. He holds you in place as he fucks up into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat each time. You will your breathing to slow, but the constant assault on your pussy muddles your brain and destroys your focus.

"She's so fucking tight," Oscar says through gritted teeth. You can feel his nails dig into your sides.

"Here as well," Charles agrees. "So warm and so wet."

All you can do is sob as you let the two of them use you, filled up on both sides, reduced to nothing but two holes.

"Fuck, I wanna cum on her face," Oscar says hurriedly, hips slowing down, probably in an attempt to keep his orgasm at bay.

Charles pulls you back off of him and he surveys you for a second.

"And I'll do it inside," Charles says. "Will you let me cum inside, chèrie?"

You nod, unconsciously clenching around Oscar. He curses, speeding up his movements again.

"Mate, I can't take it anymore," Oscar rushes, pulling out. You whine at the loss but Charles is quick to get off the bed, replacing Oscar's place behind you.

You feel the Charles' tip press against your hole and you plead, rocking back, desperate to be filled up.

"Charles, please, n-need your cum in me," you stutter. "Wanna be filled up, I need it, need you, please–"

Charles slides in one swift motion and your eyes roll all the way back in your head. He's thicker than Oscar and the stretch is almost painful but in the best way possible.

The older of the two wastes no time and starts pounding into you, rendering you speechless at how brutal his pace is. You're dizzy with arousal, spit and tears mixing on your chin and cheeks.

"Look here, sweetheart," comes Oscar's voice, rough around the edges, his hand cupping your chin.

He's stroking his cock at an impossible pace, bottom lip caught between his teeth. You look straight into his eyes as you stick your tongue out, waiting for him to release all over you.

"Fuck, you really are desperate for it," Oscar sneers, gripping harder at your face. "Open wide."

A warm spurt of liquid shoots straight onto your tongue, landing on your cheeks as well. You squint as it hits nearer to your eyes but you obediently lick up everything you can from your lips, swallowing Oscar's thick cum down.

"Oh god, baby," Charles warns. "Je vais bientôt jouir–"

Charles presses you closer to him, caging your hips against his own. He groans and you feel him twitch within you. You clench down as hard as you can around him, earning your hair a harsh tug from behind. Charles yanks you back against him as he gives a few more thrusts to ride his orgasm out.

"We are not done with you yet, amour," Charles warns.

Oscar's face comes into view and he's eyeing you up and down, his thumb swiping at a stain of himself on your cheek. He brings it to your lips and you lick his digit clean.

"Good girl," Oscar praises. "But he's right. You can give us a few more, right?"

You swallow.

You nod.

[ptergwen]

hiii

so this might me dirty but hear me out

It has gotten to me that mans come can meddle w the woman’s dna

so with this as an inspiration, and I know it’s kinda cliche but

stark!reader suddenly having spider senses or smh (not pregnancy)

oh and it’s for Tom Holland spider man

have an amazing dayy

a parker thing

ask box  |  taglist  |  blurb masterlist  |  main masterlist

w/c: 2,364

warnings: smut (p in v unprotected, lowkey dom!peter and reader), swearing

a/n: jump scare if you didn't see my post lmao i'm back y'all! i missed u guys and missed writing lots so i’ll be here from time to time again :) i had so much fun with this req thank you for the idea! much love to u all <3

you catch yourself dozing off and jerk your head up instinctively. one short, loud snore passes your lips as you do so, eyes opening wide. you blink your tired eyes a few times as you readjust to the harsh lighting.

ugh, you fell asleep in the lab, something you always chastise peter and your dad for doing. they're notorious for their long hours spent messing around with stark tech. you've lost count of how many times you've woken up to an empty spot in bed where your boyfriend should be, instead finding him fast asleep surrounded by cups of coffee and a delirious tony still on the grind.

tonight, you're the stark who's in the lab past their bedtime. you had the day to yourself and decided to use your free time to upgrade your suit. it had had a few hiccups during the team's last mission, so you wanted to work on it before the next one. what was supposed to be a few minor tweaks turned into a whole day of tweaking.

you scoff at yourself and wipe some drool that crusted onto your chin. oddly enough, you almost instantly refocus on the screen in front of you. it's been like this for most of the day. you're way more concentrated than usual for some reason, more aware. you figure it's because peter has been out on patrol and couldn't distract you.

"are you finished for the night, boss? you aren't usually here this late."

"i know, but i’m gonna stay a little longer. i’ll be done soon...i think."

friday dims the lights directly overhead so they aren't as harsh. you smile.

"thanks, fri."

you sit up in your seat, scooting in closer to the screen displaying your suit. you carefully look over the prototype and pick up a pen to write yourself some notes. when you go to put down the pen, it sticks to your palm. you shake your hand to try to get it off. it stays stuck.

"huh."

you use your other hand to pry the pen off of you.

"weird."

first you have heightened senses, now you're sticky. if you didn't have ordinary stark dna, you'd think you were part arachnid like peter.

you're not sure why, but you suddenly stand up and turn towards the main doors to the lab. they slide open a few seconds later. peter walks inside, spider suit on and mask off. he pads over to you with a soft smile.

"there you are. friday said i could find you down here."

peter pecks your lips and envelopes you in a hug. you sign contentedly, face nuzzled into his neck and arms winding around him.

"yeah, she's probably sick of me. i've been down here all day."

"you're really locked in, huh? how's the suit coming along?"

peter's fingers rub up and down your back ever so lightly. just the small touch practically sends shivers down your spine.

"good. fixed everything and double checked, then triple checked. started adding some new stuff, too."

"new features? like what?"

"you know the one i was telling you about..."

you trail off as peter's hands slide down to your ass. he pulls you in closer to himself, letting his hands rest there. you peek up at him, heart speeding up.

"go on, i’m listening."

peter gives your ass a gentle squeeze. it's an innocent gesture, really, but your senses are going crazy right now and you can't help but to get turned on. you always tease peter about how easily he's turned on. if this is what it feels like for him, now you understand.

"hm, i'm bored of talking about the suit. tell me about patrol."

"it was good! got a lot of action today. i mean, i guess that's not good 'cause that means there's more crime and stuff, but y'know. anyway..."

you stare at peter's lips, but don't listen to a word he's saying. it's the first time today you can't focus. he's pressed right up against you in his damned tight spider suit, and his hands are still on your ass, and you're so hypersensitive and hyper aware. all you can think about is how bad you need him.

"y/n? you okay?"

peter must have noticed you spacing out.

your gaze flicks between his eyes and lips before your own lips wordlessly capture his in a searing kiss. peter lets out a breathy chuckle, caught a bit off guard by your abruptness. he deepens the kiss for a moment, then pulls back with a look of amusement. you bite back a cheeky smile.

"horny."

peter's features form a smirk.

"i got you, baby."

he kisses you again. his tongue tangles with yours, a sigh passing your lips. peter lifts you up, grip becoming firmer on your ass. you wrap your legs around his waist. he kisses down your neck until he finds a spot he wants to mark. you tilt your head to the side so he has more access. peter's lips suck roughly on your skin, teeth nipping at it playfully. you let out a shaky breath.

peter presses one last kiss to what's sure to become a hickey to soothe it. you tilt his chin up towards you again, lips smashing into his, holding him in place by the back of his head. he carries you to the nearest table while your intertwined lips move desperately against each other's. you sneak a hand down to the bulge in his suit, earning a groan.

"one sec, lemme get this off."

peter sets you down on the table and quickly strips off his spider suit. you take your own clothes off and toss them aside, left only in your bra and panties. peter comes to stand between your legs. he slips your panties to the side, middle finger collecting your wetness as he kisses you again. his finger slides into you with ease and begins to pump. you moan into the kiss, tugging at his hair.

"already so wet, baby. don't even have to get you warmed up."

peter's finger curls inside you, cockiness evident in his tone and on his features. you tug on some hair at the nape of his neck.

"stop teasing, parker."

"can't take it when the roles are reversed, stark?"

something takes over you in that moment, the same something that's been coursing through your veins all day. you grab both of peter's hands and hold them in place above his head. your grip is tight around his wrists, too tight for him to break free of it. a noise almost like a growl escapes you.

"shut up and fuck me, or i’ll fuck you."

peter meets your wild eyes, his pupils equally as dilated.

"do it."

you promptly pull peter up to the table with you. you push him back so he lies down, pinning his arms down at his sides. his chest rises and falls, breathless.

"woah, what's gotten into you today? not that i’m complaining, but, woah."

"i know, right? i thought you were supposed to have super strength."

peter grabs you by your hips and sits up, seating you in his lap. you wiggle your hips in his grasp, but he digs his fingers into your sides so you can't move. peter's voice drops low.

"what was that?"

you breathe out a low laugh.

"nothing."

you dip your head down to press your forehead to peter's. he smiles, satisfied with your answer. you wrap your hand around his hard cock and stroke him. peter's lips ghost over yours, his breathing heavy.

"wanna feel you, y/n/n."

peter slides his hands up to your waist so you can move again. you smile knowingly. you slip off your panties before you reposition yourself, your legs on either side of him. you line up peter's cock with your entrance.

"wanna feel you too, pete."

you lower yourself down onto peter. you both let out little sighs and moans as he fills you up.

he always feels so good inside you, but this time is even better, even more intense.

you arch your back to find the right angle, shifting backwards a bit. once you're both comfortable, you begin to roll your hips. peter exhales a breath he was holding, lifting his hips up to help you out. your movements are slow, fluid. peter supports you by the small of your back, eyes hooded and lips parted for air.

"fuck, i'm not gonna last long."

"me neither."

he kisses you, softly but with so much passion. you let your eyes flutter closed and kiss back. you place your feet flat on the table for more stability and straighten your back, starting to bounce on his cock.

"y/n..."

peter's voice comes out almost like a whine. you chuckle at that.

"i know."

you grab onto peter's shoulders for more support as you move, up and down, back and forth. peter leaves sloppy kisses along the side of your neck. the once quiet lab is now filled with both of your moans and the sounds of your wetness every time his cock thrusts into you. you're both so close, and you can hardly hold out any longer.

peter grabs your hips to stop your movements. he takes over, thrusting up into you at the same delicious pace, only he's the one in control. you let out a series of short, high pitched moans, head thrown back as peter's cock hits the right spot in you over and over again.

"that's it, y/n/n. sound so pretty, baby."

peter half speaks and half groans. you reply with your own noise of content, squeezing yourself around his cock as you reach your high. peter is close to his.

"god, fuck."

he's panting. his thrusts speed up a bit until his hips stop moving altogether. he pushes deeper into you with one final moan, his cum filling you up, making you feel warm inside. you both recently agreed he could finish in you; it's a new level of intimacy.

"fuck, baby. woah."

you bury your face in peter's neck in response. you try to catch your breath, falling forward into his arms.

"oh my god, pete. that was..."

"yeah."

peter hugs your waist. he slowly pulls out of you, making you wince at the new emptiness.

"sorry."

he peppers tender kisses to the side of your head. you remove your face from his neck.

"it's okay."

you ruffle peter's hair with a tired smile. he kisses your cheek, smiling back. you give him another peck on his lips. you yawn, today's and tonight's activities catching up with you once again.

"aw, you tired?"

"mhm. you must be, too, spidey."

"exhausted. let's get cleaned up, then we'll go to bed?"

"sounds perfect."

peter helps you down from the table. you quickly step into your panties in case any cum leaks out of you. he picks his suit up off the floor.

"okay, that was insanely good. i mean, it always is, but something was different. i wonder what it was."

peter shimmies into his suit so his lower half is covered. you're putting on the rest of your clothes.

"i don't know, i’ve just been super on my shit today. really focused and stuff."

"explains why you were so locked in on your suit."

"that might just be a stark thing. actually, it's a parker thing too."

you poke peter's chest playfully. you collect some of your things from your work area, some miscellaneous supplies sticking to your palms as you do.

"why does this keep happening?"

peter watches curiously as you huff and shake paper clips off your palms.

"funny, that reminds me of when i first got my powers. took me a while to figure out how to control it, being sticky."

"uh huh. did you spill web fluid last time you were down here or something?"

"i don't think so, but it would have dissolved by now if i did. i haven't been in the lab for a couple days."

"oh. maybe it was someone else."

peter quirks a brow.

"i don't see any web fluid over there, y/n/n."

you turn to face peter.

"so why am i sticky?"

between this, your strength, and your heightened senses, peter puts it together. you have powers.

his spider powers.

"that might also be a parker thing. more specifically, a spider-man thing."

"you don't mean... no."

if peter is saying what you think he's saying, that confirms what you had thought earlier.

"uh, yeah."

peter crosses over to you. your eyebrows knit together.

"we must share some dna."

"but how? that wouldn't be possible unless we were, like, related... ew! please don't tell me we're fucking related!"

"baby, baby." peter laughs softly, taking one of your hands in his. "stop freaking out."

"you should be freaking out too! you were just inside me, peter, fucking me raw! you came in me!"

"exactly."

peter's voice is way too calm for your liking.

"exactly? what do you mean 'exactly'?"

"think about it. sperm is made up of dna."

"so what?"

"well, i wasn't born with this dna. it got mutated by the spider bite. so no, we're definitely not related."

you tentatively soften your gaze, allowing peter to lace his fingers through yours.

"since i got my powers from the mutation, i guess you got them too when i started finishing in you."

you gasp, a playful smile pulling at your lips.

"you mean you mutated my dna? you have radioactive cum?"

"something like that. you're not mad?"

you toy with peter's fingers, looping an arm around his neck.

"nah, it's kind of cool now that i know what it is. you're gonna have to teach me how to use the powers, though."

"of course." peter returns your smile. "now that you've got new powers, you gotta rebrand. maybe you could call yourself spider-woman."

"you'd like that, wouldn't you? come up with something more original."

peter's arms wrap around your middle, smile growing into a toothy grin.

"you could also use mrs. parker. it's gonna be your name someday, anyways."

you put your other arm around peter's neck with a laugh.

"mrs. parker, i like that."

(too lazy to use tags lmao)

[rafedarling]

𝐬𝐮𝐧, 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬

pairing: dad!drew starkey x mom!reader

summary: in the midst of a beautiful hawaiian vacation, drew and you are savoring every moment with your brilliant 2-year-old son, rustyn. joined by drew’s family, the vacation is filled with laughter, love, and sweet moments by the beach. rustyn’s bright mind and affectionate heart make every interaction heartwarming, especially when he decides his parents need to share a kiss.

warning(s): english is not my native language. pure fluff, family bonding, cute toddler antics, mild pda (innocent kissing initiated by an adorable toddler).

au: wrote this because currently so obsessed with baby rustyn on tiktok, he’s so smart and sweet. like, reblog and comment are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. taglist | tagging: @mileyraes @xoxohoneymoongirl @enjoymyloves @tracymbcm @littlelamy @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @akobx @maybankslover @noobmazter69

A soft and gentle Hawaiian breeze filtered through the open windows of the Airbnb, carrying with it the salty scent of the ocean and the distant sound of waves crashing onto the shore. The golden sunlight filtered into the bathroom where you stood, brushing the last bit of blush on your cheeks as you prepared for the day. It was only the second morning of your vacation in Hawaii, but already you could feel a deep sense of peace and contentment.

Through the thin walls, you could hear the soft murmur of conversation from the living room, where Drew was keeping your son, Rustyn, entertained. At only two years old, Rustyn had a way of commanding attention wherever he went. His bright, inquisitive mind and sweet nature often left you in awe, as he continuously found ways to make everyone around him feel special. Whether it was a loving compliment or a random fun fact he had picked up from one of his many TV shows, Rustyn always knew how to leave an impression.

Just as you were finishing up your makeup, you heard a light knock on the bathroom door, and soon a small voice called out.

“Mommy, can I come in?”

The door creaked open, revealing Rustyn standing in the doorway, his big blue eyes peeking up at you with admiration. He walked inside, his little feet padding across the tiled floor, his excitement for the day evident in the way he carried himself.

“Mommy, you look beautiful today,” Rustyn said, his tiny voice full of awe, as if he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have such a pretty mom.

You felt your heart swell with love, as it always did when Rustyn offered these sweet compliments. Leaning down, you scooped him up into your arms and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” you said, smiling into his soft curls. “You’re so sweet.”

Just then, Drew appeared at the doorway with a grin on his face. He leaned against the doorframe casually, his eyes soft as he looked at the two of you. “Rustyn’s right, you know. Mommy always looks pretty.”

You smiled at Drew, warmth flooding your chest at the sight of him standing there, his playful charm radiating through his teasing words. Even after all this time, Drew still had a way of making you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

“Oh, stop it, you two,” you said with a laugh, setting Rustyn down as you finished gathering your things.

“You’re so special to me, Mommy,” Rustyn added sweetly, wrapping his arms around your neck with a big hug as if to emphasize just how much he loved you.

From the living room, you could hear Todd and Jodi’s soft “aww” as they watched Rustyn’s display of affection. His grandparents were always so proud of how kind-hearted and loving he was. Every little word Rustyn said seemed to have the power to melt hearts. You smiled to yourself, grateful for the love that surrounded your family.

“Okay, okay,” you said with a grin, ruffling Rustyn’s hair. “Let’s go get some breakfast. Are you ready for a fun day, baby?”

Rustyn nodded enthusiastically, his little face lighting up. “Yeah, Mommy! I wanna go see fishy!”

Drew chuckled as he grabbed the car keys. “Alright, let’s get going, then.”

As you walked out of the Airbnb, the sun kissed your skin, and the smell of the ocean surrounded you. You couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky to be spending this time with your little family and Drew’s parents, siblings. The connection between all of you felt so strong, and you knew Rustyn was growing up surrounded by so much love from everyone around him.

Once everyone had gathered their things, Drew packed up the rental car, making sure Rustyn was safely strapped into his car seat before helping you into the front passenger seat. Todd and Jodi settled into the back, chatting softly about the day ahead. The air was filled with the warmth of a family vacation—easy-going, full of laughter, and stress-free.

Drew started the car, glancing over at you with a soft smile before shifting his attention to the road. “So, what are we thinking for breakfast? Pancakes for Rustyn, or something more adventurous?”

You laughed. “Rustyn could eat pancakes every day if we let him.”

From the back seat, Todd chuckled, “The kid has good taste.”

As the car rolled down the scenic coastal road, the windows open to let the cool breeze in, Rustyn began his usual habit of filling the car with his boundless curiosity.

“Mommy, did you know that dolphins are really smart?” he asked from his car seat, his little legs kicking back and forth as he peered out the window.

You turned slightly in your seat, smiling at him. “Oh yeah? How smart are they?”

Rustyn’s face scrunched up in thought as if he was recalling one of the many nature shows he loved to watch. “They can talk to each other with squeaks!”

“That’s right, baby,” you said, nodding in encouragement. “Dolphins are very smart.”

Drew glanced in the rearview mirror, clearly amused. “What else do you know about dolphins, Rusty?”

Rustyn continued excitedly. “And turtles! Turtles can live for a really, really long time—like, a hundred years!”

Todd, sitting in the back, grinned and leaned forward slightly. “Is that so, Rusty? You’re a walking encyclopedia, aren’t you?”

Rustyn beamed at the praise, clearly proud of himself. “I know lots of things!”

Jodi chimed in with a warm smile. “You sure do, sweet boy. Maybe you’ll be a marine biologist one day.”

Rustyn seemed to like the sound of that. “What’s that?”

“It’s someone who studies ocean animals, like dolphins and turtles,” you explained, watching as his eyes lit up with interest.

“Yeah! I wanna be a marine… biologist!” Rustyn said, his face scrunching up as he tried to say the word correctly.

The entire car burst into laughter, everyone already so charmed by Rustyn’s enthusiasm for life. Drew reached and squeezed your hand, a gesture of shared pride in your little boy.

“He’s going to do great things,” Drew said softly, his voice filled with love as he looked back at Rustyn, who was now babbling happily about his future ocean adventures.

When you arrived at the breakfast spot—a quaint beachside cafe with a view of the ocean—you saw that Drew’s siblings, Logan, Brooke, and McKayla, were already there, waiting for you all at a large outdoor table. The sea breeze was refreshing, and the early morning sunlight cast a warm, golden glow over everything.

Brooke was the first to spot you, waving you all over with a grin. “Finally! We thought you guys were never going to show up.”

“Sorry, Rustyn had to give us a marine biology lesson on the way here,” Drew said with a chuckle as he approached the table.

Logan laughed, reaching down to high-five Rustyn, who was already eager to share more of his newfound knowledge. “Rusty, my man! What did you teach them this time?”

“Turtles can live for a hundred years!” Rustyn declared proudly, his chest puffing out with pride.

McKayla smiled fondly at her nephew, reaching over to ruffle his hair. “Well, look at you, little genius.”

The conversation flowed easily as everyone sat down, catching up with each other and enjoying the relaxed vibe of the island. Drew’s family was always warm and welcoming, and it felt so natural to be surrounded by them. Rustyn, ever the center of attention, charmed everyone with his sweet compliments and random facts, making sure to tell each person at the table how much he loved them.

At one point, as you waited for the food to arrive, a couple sitting nearby noticed Drew. They exchanged nervous glances before hesitantly approaching the table.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt,” the woman said, clearly excited but trying to be respectful. “We’re big fans of your work, Drew. Could we get a picture?”

Drew smiled kindly, ever gracious with his fans. “Of course. No problem.”

As he stood up to take the picture with the couple, Rustyn watched intently from his seat, his little face full of curiosity. As soon as Drew finished and the couple thanked him, Rustyn piped up loudly, his voice full of pride.

“I’m a big fan of my Dada too!”

Everyone, including the couple, burst out laughing at Rustyn’s unexpected but adorable declaration. Drew’s face flushed slightly as he reached down to ruffle Rustyn’s hair, clearly touched by his son’s words.

“You’re too much, bud,” Drew said with a smile, leaning down to kiss the top of Rustyn’s head.

The rest of breakfast was filled with more laughter, light teasing, and stories of the adventures everyone had planned for the day. Rustyn, always the star of the show, kept everyone entertained with his endless questions and sweet declarations of love for his family.

After breakfast, you all decided to spend the rest of the day at the beach. The sun was shining brightly, and the water looked impossibly inviting. Rustyn could hardly contain his excitement as you, Drew, and his siblings set up camp with a large umbrella and a pile of beach towels.

Rustyn tugged at your hand, his little face filled with anticipation. “Mommy, can we go swimming now?”

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “Of course, sweetie. Let’s go!”

Drew grinned as he helped Rustyn into his floaties before scooping him up and carrying him toward the water. “Let’s see what you’ve got, buddy.”

As soon as the cool ocean water lapped at your feet, Rustyn let out an excited squeal, splashing around with glee. Drew, ever the playful dad, lifted him high into the air before gently dunking him into the water, making Rustyn giggle uncontrollably.

After a while of swimming, you decided to take a break and build a sandcastle with Rustyn. The two of you sat side by side in the soft sand, gathering buckets of wet sand while Drew stayed in the water with Logan and McKayla. You helped Rustyn carefully pack the sand into a tower, guiding his small hands to shape the castle.

“Mommy, look! I found a shell!” Rustyn exclaimed, holding up a small white seashell he had discovered buried in the sand.

“That’s perfect, Rusty! We can put it right here,” you said, showing him where to place it on the sandcastle.

Drew, having spotted the two of you from the water, made his way back to the shore and dropped down beside you. “How’s the sandcastle coming along?”

Rustyn looked up at him with a big grin. “Good, Dada! We found a shell for it.”

Drew nodded appreciatively, leaning in to examine the shell. “Wow, you and Mommy are making quite the masterpiece.”

You chuckled, brushing some sand off your hands as you admired the nearly finished sandcastle. “He’s a natural builder.”

After a few more minutes of playing in the sand, you leaned in close to Rustyn and whispered, “Hey, baby, can Mommy have a kiss?”

Rustyn nodded, but instead of leaning in for a kiss himself, he had a different idea. With a mischievous grin, he grabbed both your face and Drew’s, pulling you two together with surprising force. He giggled, clearly wanting his parents to kiss each other.

Drew let out a soft laugh, his blue eyes twinkling with affection as he looked at you. “Looks like someone’s playing matchmaker,” he said with a teasing grin.

You smiled back, your heart swelling with love as you leaned in to kiss Drew. It was a soft, tender kiss, made even sweeter by the fact that Rustyn had initiated it. When you pulled away, Drew still had that fond, loving look in his eyes.

“You’ve got good ideas, Rusty,” Drew said, ruffling his son’s hair.

Rustyn giggled happily. “You’re supposed to kiss! It makes you happy!”

Drew chuckled, pulling you both in for a group hug. “Yeah, bud, it really does.”

As the day wound down, the entire family gathered under the umbrella, lounging on towels and sipping on cold drinks. Brooke and McKayla had picked up fresh coconuts from a nearby vendor, passing them around as everyone settled in to enjoy the sunset.

Logan and Todd were still determined to outdo each other in their impromptu sandcastle competition, while Jodi sat back, laughing at their antics.

Rustyn, now thoroughly exhausted from the day’s activities, snuggled into your lap, his little eyes drooping as he fought off sleep. You brushed a hand through his soft hair, smiling down at him as he yawned.

Drew, sitting beside you, wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as the two of you watched the sun slowly sink below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange.

“This was a perfect day,” you whispered, leaning your head on Drew’s shoulder.

Drew smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Yeah, it really was.”

Rustyn, half-asleep now he’s laying on your chest, murmured softly. “Love you, Mommy. Love you, Dada.”

Your heart melted at his words, and you looked down at him with a smile, your love for him overflowing. “We love you too, baby,” you whispered back, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

As the last rays of sunlight disappeared over the horizon, you felt a deep sense of contentment wash over you. The love you felt for Drew, for Rustyn, and for the family surrounding you, was all you needed. This was your perfect moment—a moment filled with love, laughter, and the warmth of your little family.

[cumironi]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

summary. december has come and that is only mean one thing; gojo’s birthday. for the last few years, you have been celebrating his birthday together with geto and this year wasn’t any different— and gojo getting more and more spoiled than the last

warning. established relationship, fluff, crack, geto give gojo a kiss, gojo fell asleep while sucking your nipple.

p.s please don’t come at me, ik this is all over the place and didn’t focus entirely on gojo’ s birthday and just basically a mess. but i hope it is still enjoyable and DON’T COME AT ME FOR MAKING GEGO GAY A BITTTT 😭

11:30 pm.

you return the smile, your heart skipping a beat as you slowly close the door behind you, careful not to make a sound. the room feels cozy, a perfect contrast to the late hour, and you make your way deeper into the room, your footsteps light and purposeful.

you quietly peek through the door of your boyfriends’ study room, the faint glow of the desk lamp casting a warm light across the room. geto is sitting at his desk, surrounded by papers and books, his brow slightly furrowed as he focuses on his work. but as soon as he feels your presence, he lifts his head, a soft smile curling on his lips when his eyes meet yours.

geto tilts his head slightly, still smiling, as he asks softly, “is satoru asleep?”

you shake your head, the hint of excitement buzzing through you like electricity. you move toward him, your hand reaching out to touch his shoulder lightly. the warmth of his body under your fingertips makes your heart race even faster, and geto chuckles, clearly noticing the way your energy shifts.

“i can feel that excitement radiating off of you,” he says with a teasing grin, his voice low and amused.

you laugh softly, not bothering to hide your enthusiasm. “it’s his birthday,” you reply, your gaze locking with his as you step even closer. geto’s smile widens, and for a moment, all the work and the world outside of this room disappear, leaving just the two of you.

you chuckle, your smile still wide, the excitement in your chest barely contained. at midnight, it would be gojo’s birthday, and you and geto had spent the past few days preparing a surprise that you knew would leave him grinning from ear to ear. you couldn’t wait to see his reaction when the clock struck twelve, when the world would shift from an ordinary moment into one filled with laughter, warmth, and a little bit of mischief. the thought of gojo’s face lighting up made your heart flutter with anticipation.

the soft hum of the clock ticking away in the background heightens the anticipation in the room, the silence between you and geto charged with unspoken excitement. you glance at geto, your gaze playful, leaning slightly against the desk where he’s still sitting while holding his hand. “so, did you get him any presents?” you ask, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of your lips. you had already planned your own surprise, of course, but you were curious to know if geto had something up his sleeve as well.

geto grins as he lifts your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, his knuckles brushing against your skin, leaving a trail of tingles. he brings your intertwined hands up to his mouth, the corners of his lips curled up in a playful smile. “maybe i did,” he answers, his voice barely a low rumble, “but if i tell you now, it’ll ruin the surprise.”

gently, he pulls you closer until you’re standing between his parted legs, the heat of his body reaching you like a wave, making your cheeks flush.

geto’s smile softens as he gazes up at you, his dark eyes warm and filled with quiet affection. his free hand moves up, gently brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, the touch soft and deliberate. “you’re already blushing,” he murmurs, his voice low and laced with amused affection, his thumb lazily tracing the curve of your cheek. the warmth of his touch sends a subtle shiver down your spine, and the teasing lilt in his tone makes it clear he’s enjoying the little game. the way his eyes flicker with a hint of mischief has your heart skipping a beat.

“care to share what you got for satoru?” he adds, his gaze holding yours, as though daring you to spill your secret.

you hum softly, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered. instead, you tilt your head, a small, knowing smile playing on your lips. “nothing expensive,” you say casually, your voice calm, though the glimmer in your eyes reveals your own teasing nature. “but it’s something i know he’ll love.” your free hand moves up to touch geto’s cheek, your fingertips grazing the soft line of his jaw. the intimacy of the moment makes the room feel even cozier, as if it’s just the two of you in the entire world.

geto’s smirk only widens at your response, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and interest. his lips press against your palm, his breath warm against your skin, before he lets go and leans back in his chair, his gaze holding yours with a playful intensity that makes your heart skip a beat.

“you’re being awfully vague,” he replies, his voice carrying a teasing note. “but color me intrigued.” you chuckle softly, shaking your head at his theatrics, the warmth of his lips lingering on your palm making your cheeks flush. “you’ll just have to wait and see,” you reply, your tone light and teasing, mirroring his playful energy.

“do you want to help me finish preparing the cake?” you ask, your tone light but expectant. your fingers linger on his skin for just a moment longer before you pull away, watching as his smirk deepens ever so slightly. he looks into your eyes, studying you for a moment, before he nods. “sure. lead the way.” reaching out, you grab his hand and give it a gentle tug, urging him to stand. “come on, no time to waste.”

geto’s smirk widens as he lets you pull him up, his movements fluid and unhurried as though he’s savoring every second of this moment. his fingers intertwine with yours, his touch firm yet gentle, and he follows you willingly as you lead him toward the door.

the two of you move in perfect sync, the soft shuffle of your footsteps barely audible as you open the door and slip out into the dimly lit hallway. you glance back at geto, your free hand pressing a finger to your lips in a silent signal, a mischievous glint in your eyes. he mirrors the gesture with an exaggerated nod, his smirk never faltering while he sling his arm over your shoulder.

you walk side by side, the quiet of the house amplifying the shared anticipation between you. every creak of the floorboards feels like a secret whispered into the night, but neither of you speaks, determined not to let gojo catch on while you walk outside the house to the other part of the house.

you and geto slip out quietly, the crisp night air brushing against your skin as you make your way to the storage house. the faint crunch of gravel beneath your feet is the only sound breaking the silence. geto walks beside you, his hand on yours still, glancing around with his usual calm demeanor.

outside, tucked neatly in the backyard, there’s a tiny house serving as your storage area. it’s nothing fancy, but it’s essential—especially when you’re living with two foodie boyfriends. with their insatiable appetites, stocking up on food feels less like grocery shopping and more like preparing for a natural disaster. shelves line the walls, stacked with snacks, ingredients, and an impressive variety of meats and frozen goods. it’s a foodie’s paradise, and you’re the mastermind behind keeping it organized.

once inside, the cool air from the storage hits you, and you let out a soft breath. the place smells faintly of frozen goods and freshly stocked produce. without hesitation, you head to the large freezer in the corner, flipping the lid open with practiced ease.

inside, nestled carefully on the top shelf, is a cake already decorated in blue and white—a color scheme you knew gojo would love. his name is written elegantly across the top in neat, swirling letters, the whole design simple yet striking. you reach in, pulling the cake out with care, your hands steady as you place it on the counter nearby.

“there it is,” you say softly, smiling as you look down at the cake, a swell of pride and anticipation building in your chest. “but we can’t eat this tho, we will get diabetes if we have this,” you jokingly said, hiding the truth beneath.

it was a chocolate cake, rich and decadent, the kind of cake that could practically give an entire family diabetes just by looking at it. but that’s exactly how gojo liked it. being the sweet tooth he was, anything less than over-the-top sweetness wouldn’t have cut it. you’d made sure every layer, from the soft, moist cake to the thick, sugary frosting, was as sweet as he could possibly want.

geto’s eyes flicker down to the cake, appreciating the intricate design you’ve gone through. he can almost taste the sweetness just by looking at it, knowing full well how indulgent gojo is when it comes to his sweet tooth. a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he glances back up at you, a glimmer of mischief in his gaze.

“yeah, that looks… intense,” he muses, his voice laced with a hint of dry humor. “you’re going to single-handedly give him sugar shock before he even blows out the candles.”

you chuckle softly, carefully holding the cake in your hands, its weight a reminder of the effort you’d put into making it perfect for gojo. “don’t worry,” you reply, glancing at geto with a playful smile. “i bought another cake—one that we can actually eat without feeling like we need to drink a gallon of water afterward. it’s not too sweet, just how you like it.”

geto raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening slightly. “thoughtful as always,” he murmurs, his tone carrying a mix of teasing and genuine appreciation. the two of you step out of the storage house and into the cool night air, you make your way back toward the main house. the quiet sounds of the night surround you—crickets chirping faintly in the distance, the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze.

you glance at geto from the corner of your eye, noticing the relaxed expression on his face. you know he’s not much of a sweet tooth, and the thought of him sitting through a cake this sugary just for gojo’s sake makes you smile to yourself. “i figured you’d appreciate not being forced to eat something that could make your teeth ache,” you say lightly, the warmth in your voice evident.

geto lets out a quiet huff of laughter, shaking his head slightly at your thoughtfulness. your consideration for both him and gojo is something he loves about you, the way you balance everyone’s needs and desires with such ease.

“yeah, not a fan of toothache,” he responds, his tone laced with sarcasm. “you really do think of everything.” the warm night air wraps around you like a gentle embrace, adding to the comforting atmosphere between you and geto. his eyes flicker to the cake in your hands, then back to your face, his gaze softening ever so slightly.

the two of you finally settle in the living room, which you’ve transformed into a cozy little birthday setup. streamers in shades of blue and white hang from the ceiling, balloons tied to chairs, and the coffee table is adorned with small snacks and drinks. it’s simple, intimate, but perfect for a midnight celebration.

geto is standing on a chair, fiddling with the decorations, trying to secure the “happy birthday” banner to the wall. meanwhile, you sit cross-legged on the floor, leaning over the coffee table as you carefully place tiny candles on the chocolate cake. with a steady hand, you fix the “27” number candles right in the center, stepping back slightly to admire your handiwork.

“perfect,” you mutter, mostly to yourself.

“not bad,” geto comments from above, glancing over his shoulder to check on your progress. the two of you are so engrossed in your tasks that neither notices the soft padding of footsteps approaching. suddenly, a groggy voice cuts through the quiet.

“what are you two doing?”

the sound startles you both, your head whipping around just in time to see gojo standing in the doorway. he’s in his striped blue pajamas, his hair messy from sleep, rubbing at his stomach as he stares at you both with a confused and sleepy expression.

“oh shit,” geto mutters, his hand slipping as he tries to finish hanging the banner. the next thing you know, he’s losing his balance, stumbling off the chair and landing on the floor with a thud.

“what…?” gojo’s voice trails off as he blinks at the scene, his half-asleep brain trying to process the chaos in front of him. you and geto exchange a panicked look, the kind of unspoken communication born from years of knowing each other. without missing a beat, you grab the confetti cannon sitting nearby.

“happy birthday!” you yell, firing the cannon into the air, a shower of colorful confetti raining down over the room. geto, now laying on the floor, throws his arms up weakly. “happy birthday, satoru,” he echoes, his tone exasperated but amused.

gojo’s expression transforms from sleepy confusion to surprised delight as he’s showered with confetti. the messy display of celebration seems to snap him fully awake, his eyes blinking rapidly, as if trying to process what’s happening.

he takes a few steps further into the room, a wide grin spreading across his face as he takes in the decorations, the cake, and the two of you. “you guys didn’t need to do all this,” he says, his voice still rough from sleep but filled with an endearing happiness.

you roll your eyes playfully at his words, the corners of your lips tugging into a fond smile. “shut up,” you say lightly, reaching out to grab his hand. before he can protest further, you tug him down to the floor beside you, his lanky frame folding awkwardly as he sits cross-legged. “it’s your birthday,” you add, your tone softer now, though there’s still a teasing edge to it. “of course, we had to. what kind of people would we be if we didn’t?”

gojo looks at you, his grin widening, his pale blue eyes glimmering with gratitude. “you’re really too good to me, you know that?” before you can respond, geto finally joins you, settling on the floor across from gojo with an exaggerated sigh. “don’t let it go to your head,” he quips, smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt before leaning back on his hands.

“oh, too late,” gojo shoots back, his grin turning smug as he glances between the two of you. “i already feel like a king.” you and geto exchange a knowing look, and you can’t help but laugh, the warmth of the moment washing over you. the three of you sitting together, surrounded by the simple yet thoughtful decorations, feels perfect—intimate and just right for celebrating someone as extra as gojo.

“well, your highness,” you say, nudging him with your shoulder. “better blow out those candles before the wax melts all over the cake and don’t forget to make a wish.”

geto, ever the calm and collected one, pulls out a highlighter from his pocket and he flicks the flame to life and leans over the cake, carefully lighting the tiny candles once more. the soft glow bathes the room in a warm, golden hue, casting gentle shadows on the walls.

as the last candle is lit, the room is bathed in a soft, warm glow, and for a moment, gojo just stares at the flicker of the flames, a look of contemplation on his face. finally, with a wide smile, he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and leans forward, blowing out the candles in one firm exhale. the three of you sit in the quiet that follows, a comfortable silence filled with anticipation. gojo’s eyes slowly open, and he turns to look at you and geto, his expression a mix of happiness and satisfaction.

“so, what did you wish for?” you ask, breaking the silence and leaning forward to study his face, your eyes sparkling with curiosity. gojo’s smile widens, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “now now,” he teases, his tone lighthearted. “if i tell you, it won’t come true.”

you roll your eyes affectionately at his cheeky response, a playful scoff escaping your lips. “ugh, you’re awful,” you mutter, but the smile on your face betrays your true feelings. you shift closer to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders in a tender embrace. “happy birthday, baby,” you murmur, your voice soft and filled with love, your lips brushing lightly against his temple.

gojo lets out a quiet hum, a content sound that is almost a purr, leaning into your touch. his eyes close briefly as your lips touch his temple, enjoying the comfort and warmth of your embrace. “thank you,” he responds, his voice softer now, filled with genuine gratitude. he turns slightly, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer until you’re practically sitting in his lap, your bodies pressed together. geto, watching the intimate exchange, grins to himself, his fingers fiddling with the cake wrapper idly.

gojo buries his face into the crook of your neck, his warm breath tickling your skin as he mutters a soft, “how’d i get so lucky?” you let out a quiet chuckle, your hand moving to card through his messy hair, smoothing it back affectionately.

geto’s eyes flicker from you both, to the cake, then back again. he breaks the silence this time, leaning forward slightly. “so, are we going to eat that cake or just stare at it all night?” he suggests, the hint of impatience evident in his tone. gojo lifts his head just enough to glare at geto, a mock pout on his face. “rude,” he mutters, the complaint lacking any real heat. “i’m enjoying the moment, okay? can’t you be romantic?”

“patience, baby,” you say, shooting a half-amused, half-exasperated look in his direction. your fingers continue to run through gojo’s hair while he resting his chin against your collarbone as he looks at geto. “yeah, ‘baby’, patience.” he echoes, his tone carrying a hint of amusement, then adds, “a whole two minutes has passed, isn’t that a new record for you?” gojo’s words are muffled against your shoulder, his lips moving in a half-formed smirk. he untangles himself from you reluctantly. geto just huff along with eyes-rolling but didn’t say anything.

even so, you stand to grab another cake, a chorus of crackles and pops sound from your body, the result of sitting in one position for too long. geto lets out a low whistle, amused by the sounds. “jeez, old much?” he teases.

“shut it,” you retorted with a chuckle, kicking his leg gently before waltz to the kitchen.

geto mock-winces at your kick, rubbing his leg dramatically. he groans, but there’s a smirk on his face, showing he’s not really hurt. gojo laughs at geto’s playacting, leaning back against the sofa, arms stretched lazily above his head. “you’re such a baby,” he says, rolling his eyes. while you’re in the kitchen, geto turns his attention back to gojo. “so,” he begins, the teasing lilt in his voice evident, “any deep thoughts on turning twenty-seven?”

gojo hums thoughtfully for a moment, considering the question. “well,” he starts, a sly smile pulling up the corners of his lips, “i guess i’m officially the oldest amongst the three of us now.” geto snorts, amused by the answer. “yeah, a real sage,” he says sarcastically. “and what wisdom have you gained as our senior?”

gojo pretends to give the question serious consideration before replying, “well, i can confidently say i’ve gained more years of knowing how to deal with you two brats.” geto lets out a laugh, throwing a nearby cushion at gojo in jest. “oh please, you’re only a year older than me and two than her,” he retorts, the playful eye roll only emphasizing his point. “don’t get cocky.”

gojo catches the cushion with ease, tossing it back at geto with an exaggerated shrug. “what can i say?” he says, his tone light and carefree. ��i’m just naturally wiser than all of you.” he looks towards the kitchen, the sound of you moving around carrying into the living room. “though,” he muses, his gaze returning to geto, “i’ll admit, having a couple of years on her does give me certain benefits.“

geto raises an eyebrow, curious despite himself. “oh, yeah? like what?”

gojo’s smirk widens, his voice suddenly taking on a suggestive edge. “let’s just say, a couple extra years gives me a bit more experience in certain areas.” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, a lewd implication hanging in the air. geto can’t help but make a face, part amusement, part disgust.

just as geto opens his mouth to retort, your voice cuts through their bickering. “can’t leave you two alone for five minutes without fighting,” you say, shaking your head in mock exasperation as you step back into the living room. in your hands is a simple strawberry cheesecake, balanced on top of a stack of plastic plates.

both of them pause, turning to look at you. gojo’s expression lights up instantly as his eyes land on the cheesecake. “two cakes this year? you’re really going all out, baby,” he says, practically beaming with happiness.

you chuckle softly, settling onto the floor beside him. placing the cake down next to his birthday cake, you start handing out the plates. “it’s for all of us,” you explain with a gentle smile. “you know how sugu’ isn’t really into overly sweet things, so i got another cake he could enjoy too.”

you turn to gojo, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “but don’t worry, love, it’s still sweet enough for you to enjoy,” gojo blinks, his grin softening into something quieter, his gaze lingering on you. beside him, geto doesn’t say a word but glances at the second cake and then back at you, a flicker of unspoken gratitude in his expression.

neither of them comments on your gesture, but the way they look at you—silent, warm, and full of appreciation—speaks volumes. while you busily placing the plastic plates in forks in front of them, oblivious to their fond gazes, they exchange a brief glance, a shared understanding passing between them.

you turn back to gojo after placing the last plate down, noticing his expression. his blue eyes are locked on you, a quiet softness lingering in his gaze that catches you off guard. raising your eyebrows, you tilt your head slightly, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “come on, baby, cut your cake,” you say with a soft chuckle, nudging him gently to break the moment.

gojo snaps out of his contemplative daze, the soft smile still lingering on his lips. “oh, right,” he mutters, almost sheepish, as if caught staring. he picks up the knife, carefully cutting into the cake. the first slice is perfectly shaped, and he picks it up, holding it out to you on the plate. “you have the first slice,” he offers, his tone affectionate.

geto, watching this interaction, simply shakes his head, a smirk on his face. “sap,” he mutters under his breath.

you send a playful glare in geto’s direction, narrowing your eyes just enough to feign annoyance despite the smile. turning back to gojo, who’s completely unfazed by geto’s comment, you find him grinning at you, his usual boyish charm on full display. his focus is entirely on you as he holds out the plate, his eyes soft and filled with affection.

“aww, thank you, baby,” you say warmly, accepting the plate from his hands. leaning closer, you press a gentle kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering just a second longer to show your appreciation.

gojo’s skin tingles under your touch, the gentle kiss sending a pleasant shiver down his spine. he leans into your touch slightly, enjoying the closeness of your body. he takes a slice of cake for himself, then turns to geto, offering him a plate with a look of exaggerated patience. “do you want a slice, suguru? or do you plan on just watching us eat all night?”

geto rolls his eyes, but a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “how magnanimous of you,” he teases, taking the plate. as you all begin eating, the atmosphere in the room is warm and comfortable. the sound of quiet chatter, the scraping of forks against plates, and occasional soft laughter fills the space.

gojo, happily devouring his cake, steals not-so-subtle glances at you between bites. he’s so entranced by these moments of simple joy—the soft sound of your voice, the way your eyes crinkle when you smile. geto, meanwhile, eats his slice at a more leisurely pace, occasionally making comments that earn him a scoff or a nudge of the foot from you.

after the cake, the three of you sat comfortably on the floor in a cozy circle, surrounded by colorful wrapping paper and boxes of presents, most of them clearly marked as being from you. gojo, sitting in the middle like a spoiled king, eagerly opened his gifts one by one, his expressions ranging from childlike glee to smug satisfaction with each unwrapped item.

each gift he opened seemed to spark a new round of commentary—designer clothes he immediately draped over himself like a model, a sleek pair of sunglasses he tried on indoors, and a book he had casually mentioned wanting months ago.

the room filled with his dramatic exclamations. “oh, this is perfect! just what i needed!” he said, holding up an expensive watch that sparkled under the dim lighting. he turned to you with a playful smirk. “you really know how to spoil me, don’t you?”

you leaned on your elbow, resting your chin in your hand, watching him with an amused grin. “it’s not from me,” you replied, your tone was laced with confusion before looking at geto who’s lounge comfortably on his side eating a frozen frosting from the cake.

gojo paused mid-action, his smile faltering for a moment. he turned to look at geto in disbelief, watching as the man casually licked frosting off his finger, the picture of innocence. “wait,” gojo said, his voice laced with mock indignation. “this one’s from you?”

geto simply chuckled, unbothered by gojo’s reaction. “what, did you think just because she remembered everything you wanted but i wouldn’t?” he replied lightly.

gojo huffed dramatically, still struggling to get over the audacity of geto’s statement. he glanced at you, as if silently asking for confirmation, but you only smirked, enjoying the situation too much to chime in. “alright,” he finally said, turning back to geto. “i guess i underestimated you. didn’t think you’d be such a romantic,” he teased. “and since when do you buy me really expensive watches?”

geto raises an eyebrow at gojo’s remark, a playful smirk creeping onto his face. shifting slightly, he moves to sit up straighter, his posture exuding a calm confidence. “since ever,” he replies smoothly, his tone carrying a teasing edge. “what do you mean by that question, huh? questioning my generosity now?”

before gojo can respond, geto leans in without warning, his movements fluid and deliberate. he places a quick peck on gojo’s lips, the lingering sweetness of frosting making the moment both tender and mischievous.

gojo blinks, his indignant expression faltering as he processes the gesture, his cheeks tinging pink. but before he can fully recover, geto reaches out and gives the back of his head a light smack, a satisfied grin on his face. “happy birthday, dumbass,” geto says casually, leaning back with an air of smug victory.

you just chuckle softly, shaking your head with a fond smile, not saying a word. it’s a scene you’ve come to expect from them—their playful banter, the way they poke fun at each other while still showing the warmth and affection they share.

you watch as gojo, still a little flustered from the unexpected kiss and playful smack, rubs the back of his head with a mock pout. he glances at geto, clearly trying to muster up a response, but his expression softens, unable to hold onto the annoyance for too long.

geto’s smug smile widened as he saw how flustered gojo was, his cheeks still tinged with a blush that contrasted with his usual cool demeanor. “aww, what’s the matter, satoru? can’t find words?” geto teased, his tone light but amused. “is the great satoru gojo being rendered speechless by one little kiss?”

gojo, still recovering, shoots a glare at geto. “shut up,” he snaps, although there’s no real heat in his voice. “it just took me off guard, that’s all.” gojo lets out a huff of mock indignation, still rubbing the back of his head from the playful slap. but despite his fake annoyance, there’s a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“don’t think this makes you any less of a jerk,” he grumbles, shooting a half-hearted glare in geto’s direction. “but thanks.”

he glances over at you, and his expression softens even more, his competitive spirit momentarily forgotten in your presence. he reaches out, tugging you closer, and pulls you into his lap once more. he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, his chin resting on your shoulder. the competitive tension between him and geto seems to ease slightly, his focus now shifting towards you and the comfort of having you in his embrace.

“you know,” he says, his voice muffled against your shoulder, “you should consider getting me a present too sometime.”

you glance over your shoulder, meeting gojo’s gaze with a raised eyebrow. the playful tone in your voice contrasts the serious look on his face as you ask, “what do you mean? i’ve given you more gifts than sugu’ has.” you chuckle, shaking your head in amusement. “isn’t this enough?” you ask, motioning to the cake, the presents, and the warmth of the moment.

gojo hums, his arms wrapping around your waist a little tighter. he rests his chin on your shoulder, enjoying the comfort of your presence. “i know, i know,” he grumbles, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “but yours are always so thoughtful. they’re nice, really, i’m not complaining.” he lets out a small sigh, the playful tension from before now completely faded. he leans into you, seeking comfort in the warmth of your body. “i’m just saying… it’s nice to be spoilt sometimes, you know?

you roll your eyes playfully, muttering under your breath, “of course you do, baby. always need the grand gestures.” deep down, you know he’s just saying it for the sake of it. he’s more than grateful for the gifts you and geto have put together for him, even if his words don’t always match his actions. but you also know he enjoys the attention, the drama of the moment, and that’s part of the charm.

as you glance around at the scattered gifts, your gaze lands on the large box tucked away in the corner. a mischievous smile plays at the corner of your lips as you shift in gojo’s lap to grab it, your fingers brushing against the glossy paper. “you’re going to love this one,” you tease, lifting the box so he can see it clearly. “i’ve been waiting a long time to get everything together for this.”

gojo perks up as you move to grab the large box, his curiosity piqued by the hint of mischief in your eyes. he watches you move with anticipation, his arm still wrapped around your waist, keeping you close. “oh?” he says, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “you’re really teasing me now.”

he eyes the large box, sizing it up, his mind racing with possibilities. “alright, color me intrigued. what could it be? i’m almost scared,” he jokes, although it’s clear that he’s more excited than anything. “come on, give me a hint,” he prompts, leaning closer to the box. “just a small hint. come on, baby,” he whines, giving you a light tug, trying to get you to reveal what’s in the box.

geto, watching the interaction, lets out a snort. “chill, sstoru,” he teases. “you’re like a child waiting for christmas.” you chuckle softly, enjoying the moment of suspense as both gojo and geto eye the box with varying degrees of curiosity. you shift slightly in gojo's lap, holding the box with both hands and teasing them further.

“open it,” you say with a grin, “it might be something you’ll love the most, and sugu’ will probably hate it the most.” gojo’s interest is officially piqued, his eyes widening at your words. “oh, really now?” he says, his smirk growing wider. “if it’s something that’ll annoy suguru more than anything, i’m really invested now.”

geto, hearing this, lets out an exaggerated sigh. “great, just my luck,” he mutters, feigning annoyance but there’s a hint of anticipation in his eyes. you chuckle along with gojo, sharing a quiet moment of excitement, but neither of you says anything. gojo is clearly more excited than ever. he reaches out to grab the box from you, eager to see what’s inside as he tears through the wrapping paper. when the box is finally revealed, his eyes immediately widen, and a gasp of excitement escapes his lips. inside is a collection of limited edition digimon figures—exactly the ones he’s been searching for to complete his collection.

“NO WAY!” gojo exclaims, his voice practically vibrating with joy as he pulls each figure from the box, inspecting it like it’s a rare treasure. his usual confident demeanor fades into pure, childlike excitement. “i've been looking for these for so long! you actually got them!”

you smile at his reaction, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction knowing you got him something he’d truly love. but before you can say anything, geto groans from beside you. his expression is a mix of amusement and frustration, clearly not as thrilled as gojo.

inside the box is a collection of rare digimon figures, each meticulously designed and sought after by collectors. gojo’s obsession with digimon is no secret. he’s been a fan since childhood, hooked on the series’ themes of friendship, bravery, and adventure. over the years, his love for it has evolved into an all-out passion, bordering on obsession.

he owns an entire wall in the house dedicated to digimon memorabilia—action figures, collectible cards, posters, and even a custom light-up display for his prized items. it’s his pride and joy, though much to geto’s dismay, it comes with endless commentary about the lore, characters, and rare finds he’s stumbled upon.

meanwhile, geto groans loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose as though preparing for the inevitable. “fantastic,” he mutters, voice dripping with sarcasm. “just what we needed—more digimon figures. because clearly, we didn’t have enough already.”

you glance over at geto with a smirk. “come on, baby, he’s just happy,” you tease, watching gojo continue to examine his new figures, practically glowing. “it’s his birthday, let him be.” geto lets out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head as if the weight of the world is on his shoulders. “trust me, i know how happy he is," he mutters, side-eyeing gojo, who’s still gushing over the figures. “i’ve seen him in this state before.”

“look at this detail!” gojo gushes, holding up one of the figures as if it were the crown jewel of his collection, completely ignored the comments coming from his boyfriend’s mouth. “this one is from the limited anniversary set! do you know how long i’ve been trying to track this down? baby, you’re amazing!” he squeals, don’t even bother to throw neither you nor geto a glance.

geto leans back on his hands, watching as gojo meticulously admire each figure with a mixture of amusement and a hint of annoyance. “i just don’t get what’s so special about these silly little creatures,” he gripes. “they’re just fictional monsters, for god’s sake.”

“and don’t even get me started on the amount of space they take up in our living room,” geto continues, rolling his eyes. “not to mention the constant rambling about the lore and the different evolutions of each one. it's like a never-ending lecture.”

gojo, however, still is too engrossed in his figures to pay any attention to geto’s grumbling. he’s completely captivated by the intricate details of each figure, his eyes sparkling like a child at christmas. gojo holds up another figure, his eyes lighting up with a mixture of wonder and excitement. “and this one! this one’s been out of production for years! i’ve heard rumors about a secret stash of them, but i never thought i’d actually get my hands on one!”

geto rolls his eyes, groaning again. “oh, joy. more limited edition figures. just what his collection needs—more clutter.” but gojo is too distracted by his new acquisition to notice geto’s sarcasm. he gingerly places the figure next to the others, his gaze switching between them.

“these are going to look amazing on the wall,” he exclaims, his voice filled with a childlike glee that’s both adorable and slightly amusing. he finally looks up at you, his eyes gleaming with gratitude. “thank you so much, baby. this is the best present anyone has ever got me.”

he gives you a tight hug, holding you close against his chest. geto, on the other hand, just shakes his head, seemingly resigned to the fact that the house is now going to become a digimon museum.

you smile warmly, wrapping your arms around gojo as he hugs you tightly. his enthusiasm is infectious, and seeing him this happy makes all the effort worth it. “no problem, baby,” you say softly, leaning into his embrace. “i’m glad you love the gifts. i knew you’d appreciate them.”

gojo’s hold on you tightens, his excitement practically radiating off him. he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his voice muffled as he mutters his thanks again.

meanwhile, geto watches the scene with a mixture of affection and mock annoyance. he tries to maintain his grumpy facade, but there’s a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he witnesses the happy moment between you and gojo. “yeah, yeah,” he finally mutters, unable to hold back his own smile. “just make sure you still have enough room for our pictures on the wall.”

gojo enthusiastically rushes off to his collection, already placing the new figures in their proper spots. his excitement is palpable, and you can’t help but smile at how much he appreciates the gift. you turn to geto, noticing his playful pout as he watches the scene unfold. “come on, don’t get pouty,” you tease, pulling your knees to your chest, little, soft smile on your face. “he’s happy. you can handle a few days of digimon rambling. it’s worth it to see him this excited.”

geto lets out an exaggerated sigh, feigning annoyance, but the corner of his mouth twitches into a small smile.

“i guess you’re right,” he admits grudgingly. “it’s just... so many figures. and they take up so much room. but seeing him this happy...” he pauses, his expression softening slightly. “it does make it a little less annoying, i suppose.” he leans back, propping himself up on one elbow. “but i’m holding you accountable for this, you know. i’m going to pin all the digi-rants on you.”

you hum thoughtfully, a soft smile curving your lips as you reach over and gently touch geto’s cheek. his skin is warm beneath your fingers, and you give him a tender look, the corners of your eyes crinkling with affection.

“you know,” you say softly, your voice laced with a teasing warmth, “we can always take turns if you get too tired to listen. i’m more than happy to listen to him talk my ear off about his collection for hours if it means keeping that grin on his face.”

geto holds your gaze, his expression softening even further under your touch. he leans into your palm, his eyes never straying from yours. “you really know how to charm a guy, don’t you?” he mutters, a hint of mirth in his voice. “offering to take up the mantle of the digimon expert just to spare me the endless talks about evolutions and rare finds.”

he grins, a quiet chuckle slipping from his lips. “i think i’m starting to see why that idiot adores you so much. you’re a saint, you know that?” your eyebrows shoot up in mock surprise, a teasing smile curling at your lips. “oh? all these years living together and dating, and you’re only just now thinking he adores me? i thought that was already a given, sugu’,” you say, your voice laced with playful sarcasm.

geto laughs softly, rolling his eyes in feigned annoyance. “oh, shut up,” he teases back, his tone light and full of affection. “i know he adores you, alright. he’s not exactly subtle about it, considering he’s never had eyes for anyone but you.”

he shifts, propping himself up a little more as he continues, his voice quieter, more intimate. “but there’s a difference between knowing and really seeing it firsthand. watching you two interact, it just... hits a different way, y’know?” you shift closer to him, your movements fluid and unhurried as you place a hand on the floor beside his thigh for balance. geto watches you quietly, his sharp features softening as you settle near him.

without a word, he curls up, resting his head on your thigh like it’s the most natural thing in the world. his long, jet-black hair spills over your lap, and your free hand instinctively moves to comb through it, your fingers threading gently through the silky strands. “what about you?” you ask softly, your voice laced with playful curiosity. “do you not adore me yet?”

geto lets out a low hum, almost a purr, as your fingers run through his hair. his eyes flutter closed, and his lips curve into a soft smile that mirrors the tenderness in your touch. he turns his face towards you, nuzzling into the warmth of your thigh, his voice muffled slightly. “oh, no, of course not,” he mutters, tone dripping with affectionate sarcasm. “i only mildly tolerate you. nothing to worry about.”

you let out an exaggerated gasp, your lips curving into a playful pout as you glance down at him. “rudeee,” you whine, drawing out the word dramatically. to emphasize your mock displeasure, you give his hair a gentle tug—not enough to hurt, but just enough to earn his attention.

geto lets out a low chuckle as you tug his hair, his eyes shooting open to meet your faux-offended gaze. he looks up at you with a lazy grin, a flicker of boyish playfulness in his eyes. “what can i say, baby,” he teases, his voice dripping with mock innocence. “that’s just how i am. i’m a harsh, cold-hearted bastard.”

you let out an affectionate scoff, your fingers resuming their gentle combing through his hair. “yeah, a real hardass,” you mutter under your breath, a fond smile on your lips as you let your touch wander lower, tracing the line of his jaw.

geto lets out another soft hum, arching into your touch like a cat seeking affection. his gaze remains fixed on you as your hand drifts down, tracing the line of his jaw. his eyes darken slightly under your touch, and the hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

he reaches up, catching your hand in his as you trail along his jaw, his fingers intertwining with yours. he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “that’s right” he confirms, his voice a little huskier than before. “i’m the hardest of asses. definitely hard all over.”

you roll your eyes playfully as you pinch geto’s cheek, a mischievous grin curling on your lips. geto lets out a faux-offended grumble as you pinch his cheek, but the corners of his lips twitch, betraying his amusement. “pervert,” you tease with a soft laugh, watching his reaction. his words definitely aren’t helping his case, but you can’t help but enjoy how he responds to your touch.

you turn your attention toward gojo, your smile softens. he’s completely absorbed in his task, rearranging his figures with such care and enthusiasm that you can’t help but find it endearing. his mutterings under his breath about which figure goes where, as if each decision is a matter of great importance, makes you chuckle softly to yourself. you don’t say anything, just watching him as he moves figures around the shelf, humming in satisfaction when one looks just right.

geto watches you watch gojo, his expression shifting to a look of amused tenderness. he lets out a small huff, a mixture of feigned impatience and affectionate fondness. “look at how obsessed he is,” he comments, his voice soft but tinged with a hint of teasing as he nods towards gojo. he leans back against your leg, his head resting comfortably on your thigh. “you sure you know what you got yourself into with him?”

gojo groans in mock exhaustion as he turns away from the shelf, leaving his figurine arrangements for later. he strides back into the living room, shaking his head in feigned frustration. “ugh, i can’t keep doing this right now,” he says, stretching his arms dramatically. “too tired to rearrange a whole thing. we’ll continue later, alright?”

before you even have time to respond, gojo’s already making his way toward you, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. with a swift movement, he collapses beside you on the floor, wrapping his arms around your body without warning, pulling you into his chest. the sudden shift in weight catches you off guard, and you both tumble backward onto the soft carpet, landing in a heap of limbs and laughter.

you let out a small, surprised gasp as gojo’s full weight presses you down, but you can’t help but laugh too. “really, baby?” you tease, trying to push him off, but his arms are locked around you, not giving you any space to move. “you’re impossible.”

“shh,” he murmurs, grinning like a child who just got away with something. “you’re just too comfy, i couldn’t resist.” his voice is low, playful, and warm, a complete contrast to his usual cocky tone. his leg shifts, draping over your thigh, effectively trapping you in place. but it’s not just any placement—his leg happens to nudge against geto’s head, the accidental collision causing geto to lift his gaze from where he’s sitting nearby.

geto lets out a soft grunt as gojo’s leg bumps against his head, his expression one of exaggerated annoyance. “watch where you’re putting your limbs, idiot,” he mutters, swatting gojo's leg away.

he glances up at the two of you, the sight of you trapped beneath gojo’s arms evoking a range of emotions from him. on the one hand, he’s mildly entertained by the sight of you struggling to push gojo off. but on the other, his eyes narrow as he sees how quickly gojo has taken possession of your body.

he lets out a short cough, drawing your and gojo’s attention. he lifts his head from your lap, the earlier softness in his eyes replaced by a hint of possessiveness as he looks at you both. “alright, you oversized monkey, get off her,” he mutters, his tone laced with mock irritation. “you’re crushing her.”

gojo laughs, his arms still wrapped firmly around you. “i’m not crushing her,” he retorts defensively, snuggling even closer to you. “she’s fine, see? she’s not complaining.” he looks down at you, mischief sparkling in his eyes. “right, baby? you’re not complaining.”

you let out a long, exaggerated sigh, your eyes fluttering half-lidded as you glance up at gojo. the lazy, fed-up expression on your face is clear, gojo, seeing your expression can’t help the small, amused chuckle that follows. “yeah, not complaining,” you murmur dryly, your voice thick with playful sarcasm. “really comfortable, totally.”

you shift slightly, your hands resting on his arms, but you make no real attempt to push him off. there’s a part of you that secretly enjoys these moments of closeness, even if gojo’s over-the-top antics are a bit much sometimes.

gojo grins down at you, his arms tightening around you. he knows you’re only pretending to be annoyed, and his smile only widens at your dry remark. “see? i knew you were enjoying yourself,” he teases with a wink. he nuzzles your cheek affectionately, his breath warm on your skin. “you know you can’t resist being wrapped up in my arms.”

meanwhile, geto watches from the side, observing the interaction between you and gojo. his expression is a mixture of affectionate annoyance and a hint of possessiveness before he shifts to lay on your other side.

he props himself up on his side, resting his head on his elbow. his free hand finds its way to your hair, his fingers gently running through the strands. he watches the two of you with a hint of annoyance, before leaning in and planting a gentle kiss on your shoulder. it’s a subtle move, not intended to get either of your attention, but a simple act of affection nonetheless.

he then turns his gaze towards gojo, his tone still carrying a hint of his earlier possessiveness. “i swear, you’re like a damn octopus. always has to be clinging onto something.” gojo chuckles, not even bothering to hide his grin at geto’s comment. “what can i say? i just can’t resist snuggling up to my favorite people,” he replies, his voice carefree.

he tightens his arms around you again, nuzzling his face into your neck. “besides, she’s just too comfortable not to cling to.” geto lets out another scoff, his expression somewhere between annoyance and amusement. “you’re just obsessed,” he retorts, rolling his eyes slightly.

you roll your eyes, already feeling the familiar tension between the two of them building up. with a soft sigh, you lift your hands to give both of them a gentle tap on their arms, urging them to stop. “stop fighting, you two,” you murmur with a playful edge to your voice, though there’s a hint of genuine weariness beneath it. you shift just slightly to make yourself more comfortable between them, trying to ease the situation as you rest your head back against gojo’s chest.

both geto and gojo instantly quiet when you speak up, their expressions shifting from their playful bickering to a softer look as they turn their attention towards you. gojo then chuckles lightly, his arms loosening their grip around you slightly. “sorry, baby,” he murmurs, rubbing his cheek against the top of your head affectionately.

geto lets out a quiet sigh, his expression softening as well. he reaches out and gently brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his touch light and tender. you hum softly, feeling the warmth of their attention settle around you like a cozy blanket. you shift slightly, carefully maneuvering so you’re facing gojo now, your eyes meeting his with a gentle smile. the playful tone from before has faded, replaced with something more genuine.

“so, what do you think?” you ask, your voice soft but curious, “did you like how we did your birthday this year?” you watch his face closely, noticing the way his expression softens when you address him directly. his eyes glimmer with affection, a subtle smile tugging at his lips as he considers your question.

gojo lets out a soft hum, his eyes never leaving yours as he processes your question. he can tell immediately what your question really means—it’s not just about the party itself, but about the time and effort you’ve put into making his day special.

he reaches out and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch tender and affectionate. “of course i did, baby,” he murmurs, his voice full of warmth. “you always make sure my birthday is amazing… and it’s not just the presents or the party, y’know?”

he continues, his tone growing quieter but more sincere. “it’s the way you make me feel… like the luckiest guy in the world. it’s the little things you do—the little details—that show me how much you care.” he presses a light kiss to your forehead before wrapping his arms around you again, drawing you closer. he buries his face into the crook of your neck, taking a slow, deep breath.

geto watches the exchange between you and gojo, his gaze softening as he hears gojo’s heartfelt words. he can see the genuine affection in gojo’s eyes, the way his voice carries so much sincerity. a small, tender smile crosses his lips as he quietly leans down, his hand gently resting on gojo’s head.

he places a soft kiss on the top of gojo’s head, his voice low and warm. “glad you liked it,” geto murmurs, his words laced with a quiet fondness despite their earlier bickering. the feeling of geto’s lips on his head makes gojo shiver slightly, a pleasant warmth spreading through him at the affectionate gesture. he lets out a low hum, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips.

geto pauses for a moment, just taking in the atmosphere around them, the closeness that feels so natural and comforting. “it’s nice to see you so happy,” he adds, his voice soft but unmistakably filled with a warmth that only the two of you could draw out of him.

gojo lifts his head, turning slightly so he can see geto over your shoulder. he meets geto’s gaze, his own expression softening further. “i’m happy because i have you both,” he murmurs, a hint of vulnerability slipping into his voice. he reaches out, gently taking ahold of geto’s hand with his free hand.

gojo gently intertwines his fingers with geto’s, a subtle but significant gesture—an affirmation that despite their playful banter and competition, their connection runs deep. he looks between you and geto, his expression turning a tender shade of fond. “i mean it, you know,” he adds, his voice still quiet and sincere. “i wouldn’t trade this for anything. not even a million dollars.”

you chuckle softly, the sound warm and full of affection as you watch your two boyfriends holding hands, the image almost comical after the playful bickering that just took place. “look at you two,” you tease lightly, a fond smile spreading across your face. “acting like actual boyfriends for once, huh? thought you’d be at each other's throats forever.”

you glance between them, your expression softening as you add, “it’s nice to finally see you both acting how you’re supposed to—like how a boyfriend does.” your voice carries a touch of playfulness, but the warmth behind it is unmistakable.

hearing your comment, they both let out exaggerated groans, pulling away from you in perfect unison as though they’d rehearsed it. gojo dramatically flops backward, flinging his arms over his head, while geto sits up straighter, muttering under his breath. “ugh, disgusting,” geto grumbles, wiping his hand on his pants like he’s trying to rid himself of the lingering touch. “satoru’s germs,” he adds, shooting the white-haired sorcerer a mock glare.

gojo laughs heartily, completely unfazed by geto’s exaggerated reaction. “hey, don’t act like you don’t secretly enjoy touching me,” he retorts with a cocky smirk, sitting back up. geto rolls his eyes, wrinkling his nose in exaggerated disgust. “please. as if i would ever actually enjoy touching your insufferable ass.” he shoots a playful glare at gojo before turning his gaze back towards you. “besides, i have better taste.”

you let out a dramatic sigh, still sprawled on the floor as you lift a hand to wipe your face, muttering under your breath, “i should’ve just kept my mouth shut...”

the three of you linger on the floor for what feels like hours, laughter and quiet conversation filling the living room as the clock ticks closer to four in the morning. the warmth of the night slowly gives way to the first hints of exhaustion, and you finally decide it’s time to call it a day.

“alright,” you announce, sitting up and stretching your arms over your head with a groan. “let’s wrap this up before we all pass out on the floor.” geto nods, standing and gathering the empty plates and glasses. “i’ll clean up in the kitchen,” he offers, already heading towards the sink. “don’t forget to move his gifts before he ends up leaving them on the couch for a week.”

you smirk at his remark, nudging gojo with your foot. “come on, birthday boy. let’s get your mountain of presents into the bedroom.” gojo grins, dramatically flopping onto his back. “ugh, but i’m so tired,” he whines, reaching a hand out to you like he’s expecting you to drag him. “carry me?” rolling your eyes, you grab his wrist and tug, forcing him to sit up. “i’m not your personal chauffeur. now, get up and help me.”

he chuckles, finally relenting as he gets to his feet. together, the two of you start gathering the assortment of wrapped boxes and bags from the living room. gojo occasionally pauses to make overly dramatic guesses about what’s inside each gift, earning a scoff or an eyeroll from you every time. “i’m telling you,” he says, holding up a box and shaking it lightly, “this one’s definitely another figure. i can feel it in my soul.”

“if you break it before even opening it, it’s on you,” you warn, taking the box from his hands and adding it to the pile you’re carrying. he pouts slightly as you snatch the box away from him, jokingly protesting your strict rule. “come on, you’re no fun,” he teases, putting on an exaggerated display of disappointment. “what’s the point of guessing if i can’t even shake them a little?”

you roll your eyes, a hint of amusement in your expression as you continue gathering the gifts. he chuckles at your reaction, grabbing another heavy box and hoisting it up with a dramatic groan. “this one’s heavy,” he notes, holding it up for you to see.

“what do you think it is?” he asks, feigning ignorance as he shakes the box again, this time more carefully. “hopefully not a boulder or something.” as you both make your way towards the bedroom, gojo continues his running commentary on each gift, making outlandish guesses as he goes. his enthusiasm is contagious, and you find it hard to stay mad at his dramatics, even as you struggle to carry the growing pile of presents.

“i’m calling it now,” he declares, holding a particularly large and oddly shaped gift in his hand with a knowing smirk. “this one’s definitely something... kinky.” he gives the box another shake, grinning at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “am i right?”

you raise an eyebrow, a smile tugging at your lips as you watch him with mild amusement. “really?” you ask, your tone dripping with mock disbelief as you snatch the box from his hands. “neither me nor sugu’ give you any sex toys or anything like that.”

his expression shifts to faux disbelief as you take the box away, a playful pout forming on his lips. “rude,” he teases, pretending to be deeply offended. he scratches his chin, clearly not ready to give up his theory just yet. “well, you might not have, but sugu’ definitely would,” he says confidently, his tone only half joking.

you roll your eyes at his antics, your hands busy arranging the pile of gifts. “if he does, there’s no way i’m letting you two use it on me,” you reply smoothly, your tone dry but laced with amusement.

gojo pouts again, mock disappointment clearly on his face. “aww, but it would be so much fun,” he whines, putting on a show of desperation. “don’t you trust me?” he gives you a puppy-dog look, widening his eyes and sticking out his bottom lip. “it’s my birthday, after all... and what better way to celebrate than with a little... experimentation?” he adds, his voice low and suggestive, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

he steps closer, his body now within inches of yours. he reaches out and gently tugs at the fabric of your shirt, his touch almost taunting. “c’mon..” he murmurs, his voice soft and persuasive, “wouldn’t it be fun to try something new for once?”

you can’t help but chuckle at his over-the-top display, half-tempted to give in to his charms despite your earlier protests. “nice try,” you reply, smirking slightly. “you’re not getting anything kinky from me, birthday boy, no matter how cute you act.”

gojo’s pouting increases, his expression now taking on a slightly more determined edge. “oh, come on,” he pleads, his grip on your shirt tightening just slightly. he leans in even closer, his voice dropping to a low whisper as he speaks right into your ear. “don’t you want to surprise me with something special?” he teases, his breath warm on your skin. “after all, it’s my birthday, and i’ve been such a good boy...”

he presses a light kiss just below your earlobe, his lips trailing down your neck in a way that’s both affectionate and slightly suggestive. “we could try something fun… something we’ve never done before…” he murmurs in between kisses, his tone both persuasive and almost pleading. “just this once…? pretty please?”

you wrap your arms around his shoulder, pulling him closer as you rest your cheek against the top of his head. his breath hitches for a moment, and you can feel the faintest smile against your neck. “i thought you said you were tired,” you murmur softly, your tone teasing but warm.

he lifts his head slightly, his gaze meeting yours with a sheepish look. “well, i was,” he responds, his voice slightly sheepish. “but then you mentioned the idea of kinky toys, and suddenly i’m feeling much more energized.” he grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “besides, what better way to end my perfect birthday than with some late-night fun?”

you roll your eyes, a faint smirk tugging at your lips. “for the record,” you say, your tone dripping with mock exasperation, “you’re the one who brought up the kinky toys first. don’t try to pin that on me.” your finger starts tracing lazy circles on his shoulder, your touch light and teasing as you tilt your head slightly. “and let me get this straight,” you continue, your voice softening but still laced with playful sarcasm. “all the gifts you got tonight weren’t enough? you really need another treat?”

he pouts again, letting out an exaggerated whine as you call him out on his attempt to pin the idea of toys on you. “hey, it’s not my fault that my dirty mind went there first, okay?” he defends, his tone a little defensive but still playful.

he leans into your touch, a low hum escaping his lips as your fingers trace circles on his shoulder. his expression takes on a hint of a cheeky smile as he responds to your question. “well… i never said no to more treats.”

geto strolls into the bedroom, a smirk on his lips as he takes in the scene before him. gojo pouting while wrapped in your arms, the pile of gifts littering the floor.

he leans casually against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches his boyfriend and girlfriend with a mixture of amusement and affection— watches the two of you flirt idly in the middle of the bedroom. his expression is mildly amused, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he interrupts the exchange. “you’re both aware it’s already close to four in the morning, right?” he points out, his voice both fond and slightly teasing.

you let out a dramatic sigh of relief, leaning slightly toward geto as if he’s your savior. “thank god you’re here,” you say, your tone a mix of exasperation and amusement. “please, please tell satoru that he’s being completely unreasonable for wanting to do… kinky stuff at four in the morning, just because it’s his birthday.”

gojo lets out another overdramatic whine, making it very clear that he finds your plea to geto to take your side very offensive. “hey, i’m not being unreasonable!” he protests, his expression taking on a mix of mock offense and exaggerated hurt. “it’s my birthday, after all. i should be able to get my way for tonight, right?”

geto just raises an eyebrow, his smirk growing wider as he watches the two of you banter back and forth. he’s obviously enjoying watching you team up against gojo, his gaze shifting between you both with mild amusement. “and don’t try to deny it,” gojo adds, turning his pleading puppy eyes from you to geto. “you would be agreeing with me right now if you weren’t so tired.”

geto lets out a low chuckle, his smirk shifting to a subtle smile—one that holds a hint of affectionate indulgence. “i will admit, the thought is a little tempting,” he murmurs, his tone surprisingly contemplative. “but you’re both clearly exhausted, you especially,” he points at you.

you let out a soft sigh, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. thank god for geto, the voice of reason amidst gojo’s endless antics. you don’t say anything, but your subtle glance of gratitude toward geto says enough—he always knows how to balance things out.

geto steps closer, placing a hand on his shoulder with a mix of firmness and affection. “come on,” he says, his tone soft yet persuasive. “she’s been running around all day, planning and pulling off the entire birthday surprise for you.” he gestures toward the pile of gifts and the remnants of the celebration. “she deserves some rest. and you’ve still got hours of your day left. you can demand whatever you want later—when she’s had enough sleep.”

gojo’s pout deepens at geto’s words, his expression shifting to a mix of slight frustration and affectionate pleading. he starts to protest, opens his mouth to respond, but the stern edge to geto’s tone stops him in his tracks.

he looks sheepish for a moment, his gaze darting between you and geto before he lets out a sigh of defeat. “ugh, fine,” he relents, his voice laced with resignation. “i guess i’ll save my demanding for when we’re both more awake.”

he leans against you a little more, his arm wrapping around your waist in a loose but affectionate hold. “i’m holding you two to that, though,” he declares, his voice soft but with a hint of playfulness. “my birthday might be almost over, but that doesn’t mean i’m giving up on my request.”

geto just chuckles, a mixture of fondness and indulgence in his expression. he leans in to give gojo a quick kiss on the forehead before ruffling his hair affectionately. “we’ll see what we can do, birthday boy.”

geto notices the way your eyelids are drooping, your head slightly bobbing as you fight to stay awake. he lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as he turns his attention back to gojo.

“she’s too tired to argue with you right now,” geto says softly, his tone laced with amusement as he gestures toward your sleep-heavy form. “but i’ll answer for her: we’ll think about it later. maybe.” he presses a quick kiss to gojo’s forehead before giving his hair a playful ruffle. “for now, let’s get you both to bed before one of you collapses.”

with that, geto moves to support you, carefully helping you towards the bed while still keeping an eye on gojo, who pouts but reluctantly starts to follow as well. “come on, birthday boy,” geto murmurs with a smirk, his tone a mix of affection and exasperation. “time to call it a night.”

gojo lets out a dramatic sigh, exaggerating the effort of walking in a bid for sympathy. “i’m not even tired,” he protests, his words undermined by another exaggerated yawn. he begrudgingly allows geto to guide him towards the bed, his expression still faintly sulky. “i’m not the one who’s about to pass out from exhaustion,” he mumbles, glancing over at you with a hint of concern in his eyes.

you climb into bed with a relieved sigh, the comfort of the soft sheets instantly lulling you further into sleepiness. without opening your eyes, you weakly extend your arms toward gojo, your voice soft and muffled as you murmur, “come here, satoru.”

gojo’s pout melts into a soft, affectionate smile at your sleepy request. he quickly complies, his slight frustration instantly replaced by tenderness. he crawls into bed beside you, his movements gentle and careful as he scoots close to you.

he wraps his arms around your form, holding you close against his chest in a warm embrace. “i’m still mad at you,” he whispers into your ear, his voice soft and warm despite his faux grumbles.

as gojo’s soft grumbles reach your ears, you let out a sleepy mumble, your voice barely above a whisper. “i know,” you say with a tiny sigh, the exhaustion evident in your tone as you snuggle a little deeper into his embrace.

gojo hums in response, clearly pleased despite his earlier protests. without warning, he takes off your shirt, tugging your bra down, nuzzling his face against your breast and taking your nipple into his mouth with a content sigh. “you’re lucky i love you,” he mumbles, his voice slightly muffled but filled with affection.

geto chuckles softly from behind, shaking his head at gojo’s antics. “you’re like a clingy puppy, satoru,” he teases lightly as he climbs into bed behind you. he gently pulls the blanket over all three of you, his arm slipping around your waist from behind as he settles in.

gojo just hums in response to geto’s teasing, his actions already making it clear that he’s not paying attention to his boyfriend’s words. he continues to nuzzle against your breast, his lips and tongue working gently against your skin as he lets out a soft, satisfied sound. “soft,” he murmurs, his words barely audible but the fondness and warmth in his tone obvious.

geto just shakes his head fondly, shifting behind you to wrap his arm around your waist and press a kiss to the back of your shoulder. “don’t bite,” geto warns gojo, his voice a mix of fond admonishment and mild warning. “she’s already exhausted. don’t go making things even more difficult for her to get to sleep.”

despite the warning, there’s a hint of amusement in his tone as he watches gojo’s antics. he shifts behind you, his arm tightening around your waist while his chin rests on your shoulder. “i swear, you’re worse than a needy puppy today.” gojo lets out a quiet huff, his voice slightly muffled by your chest. “it’s my birthday, i’m allowed to act a little needy,” he protests, his words a blend of stubbornness and endearing petulance.

he lets out another satisfied sigh, his breath warm against your skin as he nuzzles his face against your breast once more. “besides, she’s so soft and warm,” he mumbles, his voice laced with affection. “can you blame me for wanting to snuggle?”

their voices filter through your drowsy haze, you let out a low, sleepy grumble. “shut up, both of you,” you mutter, your words slurred and muffled by exhaustion. without opening your eyes, your arm tightens around gojo, pulling him closer against your breast.

both gojo and geto chuckle at your sleepy protest, their voices soft and affectionate. “see? she doesn’t mind,” gojo responds, his voice muffled by your chest as he lets out another contented sigh. “she’s just as clingy as i am right now.”

geto’s arm tightens around your waist as he nuzzles his face into the back of your neck. “you both cling like puppies when you’re tired,” he teases, his tone light and fond.

it wasn’t long before your breathing evens out and you drift into a deep sleep, the two of them fall quiet, their playful banter replaced with a shared sense of calm. gojo shifts slightly, careful not to disturb you, his head still resting against your chest. his eyes close as he lets himself relax, his earlier energy finally giving way to exhaustion.

geto look at gojo over your shoulder, and see the man having his lips around your nipple in contentment, acting like a toddler being breastfeed. he lets out a quiet huff, his expression both amused and slightly fond as he watches gojo clinging to you like an over-affectionate pup. he slowly reaches out, taking a gentle hold of gojo’s hair and giving it a light, affectionate tug. “you’re such a spoiled brat.” he mutters softly, his tone filled with a mix of admonishment and affection.

gojo gives one last soft, contented suckle before finally lifting his head from your breast, his gaze a little hazy from tiredness. he glances up at geto, his expression both sheepish and defiant all at once. “it’s my birthday,” he repeats, playing the birthday card once again, his voice groggy with sleep but still adamant. “i’m allowed to be spoiled today.”

“you’re spoiled every day, not just your birthday,” geto responds with a roll of his eyes, his voice dripping with affectionate sarcasm. he leans in and gently presses a kiss to the top of gojo’s head, his hand still lightly holding a handful of his fluffy hair. “go to sleep, you brat.”

gojo lets out a small huff, his expression still a mix of stubborn insistence and exhaustion. “i’m not tired,” he complains in a tone that suggests he’s lying. “i could stay awake all night.” he glances over at you, his gaze shifting to the peaceful expression on your face as you sleep. “i wanna keep watching her,” he mutters, his voice quieter now but still stubbornly resistant. “and suck her,” and then his lips find its way to your nipple once again.

geto lets out another sigh, a mix of fond amusement and mock annoyance in his tone. “you’re not watching her,” he murmurs with a soft chuckle, his hand gently tugging gojo’s hair again. “you’re just using her as an excuse to satisfy your clinginess.”

he glances at your sleeping form, his gaze shifting between your face and gojo’s lips latched onto your breast. “let her rest, for god’s sake. she’s been up all day, and you know she’s spent.”

gojo pouts slightly, his expression still stubbornly insistent but visibly affected by exhaustion. “i’ll be gentle,” he protests, his voice slightly quieter now. “i just wanna…” he trails off, his words lost as he nuzzles his face against your breast, his lips gently sucking once more. he lets out a soft, drowsy hum, his eyes starting to droop with tiredness. “can’t i just…?” he murmurs against your skin, the last word trailing off into a quiet sigh.

geto lets out another sigh, his expression softening as he watches gojo cuddle up against you. he shakes his head with a touch of affectionate resignation. “fine,” he relents, his voice quieter now but still affectionate. “be gentle, and let her rest. but if you keep her up all night, i swear i’ll tie you up and make you sleep on the sofa.”

gojo looks up at geto with a hint of victory in his gaze, his expression a mix of sleepiness and determination. “i’ll be gentle, i promise.” he responds, his voice still a little groggy but with a hint of stubbornness.

he wraps his arms around you, holding you closer against his body while he nuzzles his face against your breast once more. “i just wanna take a little more,” he whispers, his words slurring slightly with tiredness. “just a little more before i sleep.”

geto rolls his eyes once more, though his expression holds a hint of resigned fondness. “just a little more,” he repeats in a soft murmur, his words tinged with affectionate sarcasm. he leans in and kisses the top of gojo’s head again before settling back into his comfortable embrace.

he glances at your sleeping form once more, his gaze lingering on your face for a moment before returning to watch gojo sucking your nipple while the man continues to nuzzle against your breast, his lips softly suckling as he holds you closely against him. his movements are slow and drowsy, his tiredness now beginning to overpower his stubborn determination to stay awake.

his eyes start to droop, his breathing growing heavier and slower as he slowly succumbs to exhaustion. he lets out a low hum against your skin, his voice a soft murmur as he finally lets slumber claim him.

“so soft,” he mumbles, his words barely intelligible as he finally drifts off to sleep. geto watches gojo’s movements grow slower and more sleepy, a small, affectionate smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

he waits quietly, observing as gojo’s eyes slowly close and his breathing deepens with sleep. it takes a few moments, but eventually, gojo’s gentle sucking comes to a gradual stop, his body settling into a relaxed position against yours. geto gently runs his fingers through gojo’s hair, his touch gentle and affectionate. “finally,” he murmurs softly, his voice a mix of exhausted relief and fondness.

he lets out a quiet sigh, his gaze lingering on gojo’s sleeping form for a few moments longer before glancing at your face, observing your peaceful expression as you sleep. after a moment, he shifts his position, carefully moving so that he’s curled around behind you, his arm wrapping around your waist in a loose yet protective hold. he presses a soft, affectionate kiss to the back of your shoulder before letting his eyes close, his own exhaustion finally catching up to him.

[frostimochi]

resolutions

(logan howlett x reader)

summary: You and Logan attend a New Years party hosted by Wade. With the countdown to midnight, you both get caught up in the moment and share an intimate moment with each other.

word count: 2.4k

author's note: i unironically had a dream about this the other night, so of course i had to share with the class, days earlier than planned. this takes place a year after deadpool & wolverine. enjoy! :>

find it on ao3 here

. . .

New Years was awfully unpredictable for you. Every year seemed to bring a different mix of highs and lows, leaving you wondering whether the holiday was even worth celebrating. This year, you didn’t even plan to—until Wade showed up with an invitation to his apartment against your will, promising the "social event of the decade." Against your better judgment, you agreed, dragging Logan along as your buffer for whatever insanity awaited. After all, how bad could it be?

It turned out, predictably, to be very bad.

The party was chaotic, as expected when Wade was involved. Streamers hung haphazardly from the ceiling, balloons were scattered across the floor, and someone had already popped open a bottle of champagne—two hours early. The stereo blasted a mix of '80s rock and whatever Wade had decided was "party music," which helped to create an unforgettable experience. And not in a good way.

Surrounding the room, couples were unable to keep their hands to themselves, unflatteringly in your direction. One group of friends were drunkenly laughing as they took selfies under a sagging strand of broken lights, while others swayed together to the mismatched beat of Wade’s horrendous playlist. You watched everything unfold, while Dogpool sat on your lap, constantly begging you for more cuddles.

Logan sat on the couch beside you, opening a bottle of beer, his expression a mix of irritation and mild amusement. He never wanted to come, but you’d convinced him. And of course, how could he say no? The promise of decent company and free booze was enough to get him to tag along. And though he wouldn't say it out loud, he also secretly loved spending time with you.

As Wade danced dramatically in the corner among the rest, Logan shot you a look that said, "This is your fault."

You laughed at his expression, your hands still on Dogpool as you nudged his arm. 

"Come on, admit it. You’re having a little fun."

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Watching Wade do... whatever the hell that is? Sure, a riot."

"It’s interpretive dance," Wade called out, spinning in a circle before collapsing dramatically onto the floor. "I’m expressing the tragedy of running out of nachos."

Logan rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched in a barely there smile. You caught it and grinned.

“Come here, Mary Puppins! Daddy has a surprise for you!” Wade shouted, diving toward you and grabbing Dogpool out of your lap before you could protest.

You blinked, hands still frozen in mid-air. "What the hell, Wade? She’s comfortable!"

Wade cradled Dogpool dramatically, making kissy faces at her. "Oh, but I have something better," he said in a sing-song voice. "A little treat she’ll never forget."

Logan raised an eyebrow from where he sat, grasping onto his beer bottle while watching the scene unfold. "Oh boy.”

You sighed, already knowing this wouldn’t end well. "I swear, if you try to feed her something weird—"

"Don’t worry," Wade interrupted with a grin. “I made her something special, to dedicate my first year with Puppins here, of course.”

"Let me guess," you said, crossing your arms. "You’re feeding her leftover pizza crusts and ranch dressing?"

Wade’s face lit up. "Are you shitting me? I’ve got something way better than that!" With that, he dug into the pocket of his absurdly tight pants and pulled out a tiny, half-melted sandwich. You swore that you could see a tiny bit of mold in it.

 "Behold, a hot dog sandwich! You know, for dogs, because they deserve the best."

Logan stared at the sad creation in disbelief. "That’s just a hot dog in a bun. For you."

"Fuck no!" Wade grinned, holding the sandwich up like it was the Holy Grail. "This is an exclusive Dogpool meal—made with delicate care!"

Logan let out a low chuckle as Dogpool tried to squirm free from Wade’s arms, clearly more interested in anything but what her own owner had in store for her. 

You grinned at Logan. "It’s a shame. This could have been a bonding moment for the two of them.”

Wade, completely unfazed by Dogpool's lack of enthusiasm, tried to coax her into taking a bite, which ended up with him chasing her around the apartment.

 "Come on, sweetie! You can’t say no to this!”

"Guess Dogpool's smarter than all of us," Logan muttered, taking a swig of his beer as Wade continued his one-dog food fight.

You chuckled to yourself as you watched Wade flailing around the place, bumping into others without a care in the world. Logan’s lips curled into a small, satisfied smile, something that only appeared when he knew you were genuinely amused.

"Well, looks like I haven’t completely ruined your night," Logan remarked dryly, leaning back into the couch and taking another sip of his beer. His eyes stayed on you, still holding the faint smile on his face.

You nudged him gently with your elbow. "You’re enjoying this more than you thought you would."

His gaze flickered away for a moment before he gave a small nod, the corner of his mouth twitching again. "Maybe a little," he muttered, clearly not wanting to give you the satisfaction of admitting it outright.

. . . 

As the night rolled on, a few more guests trickled in, and the energy of the room continued ebbing and flowing. Wade was missing for a bit, which kept things steady for a while. Logan stayed close to you, content to observe rather than participate. You didn’t mind; his dry commentary on the festivities kept you entertained.

You checked your watch for a moment. It was 11:48 pm. Leaning back in your seat, your eyes drifted back to Logan, wanting to start a conversation amidst the awkward silence.

"So, what’s your resolution?" you asked him as the clock neared midnight.

Logan’s gaze flicked to you. "Don’t do resolutions."

"Why not?"

"What’s the point? People make ‘em and break ‘em in the same week."

"Not everyone," you said. "Some people actually stick to them."

"You?" he asked, tilting his head. "What’s yours?"

You went into thought for a moment. You? A new year's resolution? Every time you’ve attempted to stick with one, it always ended up blowing up in your face. If there was anything you wanted more than anything to succeed in, it would probably be to get with Logan. Of course, the concept of it was foreign, but you fell for him the minute you met him. You knew that under the circumstances of what the two of you have been through, there was no chance you could tell him how you felt, or know if he reciprocated the same way.

But maybe it was time to put that all behind. A new year was approaching after all.

There was a long pause before you responded.

 "To... take more risks, I guess."

Logan’s lips quirked. "Risks, huh? Like coming to a party with this crowd?"

"Sure," you said with a laugh. "Your turn."

He shook his head jokingly. “Same as you.”

Before you could press him further, Wade appeared, clapping his hands loudly. "Alright, people! Ten minutes to midnight! Time to get your New Year’s smooch plans in order. No shame in making deals, folks."

Everyone around the room had somebody close to them for the big countdown. It made you glance back at Logan. "You got a lucky someone?"

He gave you a look that made your stomach flip, but he said nothing. Instead, he took another sip of his beer, shaking his head.

A heavy sigh escaped you as you stood up, glancing around one last time. It seemed like nothing was going to change tonight. You made your way towards the kitchen, grabbing a drink to settle the quiet disappointment that had settled in your chest.

. . .

As the countdown began, the room filled with excitement. People paired off, others grabbed sparklers from a box Wade had inexplicably found, and you felt a small pang of awkwardness as you realized you didn’t have a plan for the midnight kiss. You hadn’t thought much of it; you’d figured it wasn’t a big deal.

"Ten!" Wade’s voice boomed over the music, causing the entire room to erupt into excitement. 

People cheered and clinked glasses as the countdown began in full force. You could hear the muffled echo of it coming from every direction, but your focus remained on the drink in your hand, the sudden unease gnawing at you.

"Nine!" Wade continued, getting even louder. You shifted uncomfortably, your eyes darting to the couples already pairing up, lips ready for the tradition. It was just a kiss, right? A simple tradition, nothing more. But why did it pang your heart this much?

"Eight!" 

The countdown sped on, the crowd growing louder, more energized. Your heart rate picked up in a way you couldn’t explain.

"Seven!"

 You turned your head, glancing over your shoulder to the bar, then to the group by the windows, still holding your drink. But your mind was far from the surroundings. You hadn’t planned for this, hadn’t thought much about it until now. The idea of a midnight kiss had always felt trivial before, but tonight it seemed to matter for some reason you couldn’t grasp.

"Six!" 

You looked around for something to distract you, anything to break the tension building in your chest. But as your gaze shifted around the room, you realized that Logan had somehow made his way closer to you, inching his way through the crowd, his quiet presence unnoticed by you as you remained lost in your own swirling thoughts.

"Five!" 

The countdown ticked on, but your awareness narrowed to just the space between you and Logan. You felt a presence beside you, and for a moment, you didn’t even realize it was him until you looked up—his steady, unreadable eyes meeting yours. The air felt different, and you couldn’t tell if it was just the alcohol or something else entirely.

"Four!" 

Logan’s gaze didn’t waver. You felt a flutter of nerves in your stomach, but there was a softness in his eyes that made everything else fade. The crowd continued to cheer, to count down, but all you could hear was the steady beat of your own heart, drowning out the noise.

"Three!" 

Logan's hand brushed against yours. Deliberate, yet gentle, and the contact sent a small spark racing up your arm. You couldn’t help but look at him, a question in your eyes. Was this... real? 

"Two!" 

Logan’s face was in front of you, his hand reaching up to your face, his touch warm and steady against your skin. You couldn’t breathe for a moment, your heart racing at a pace you hadn’t expected. His thumb gently brushed over your cheekbone, a tender gesture that only made everything feel more overwhelming.

The countdown faded into the background as his face inched closer. Your thoughts scrambled, but there was only one certainty you understood. The way Logan was looking at you, the way everything seemed to quiet around you. 

You didn’t pull away. You didn’t need to. For the first time that night, you felt grounded.

“One!”

The room erupted in cheers, but all you felt was Logan’s lips on yours. Warm, firm, and completely unexpected. The kiss was brief, but it lingered, a moment suspended in time.

 When you pulled back, his eyes searched yours, an expression of quiet uncertainty mingled with something more. His lips were slightly parted, as if he was trying to process the same rush of emotions you were. Neither of you spoke. You simply stood there, close enough to feel each other’s breath, the world around you seeming to slow down even further. His gaze softened, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips. But he didn’t say anything—not yet.

The noise of the room swirled back into focus, but it felt distant, like a muffled backdrop to what you both were experiencing in that exact moment. Logan’s hand was still resting against your cheek. Warm, like it had always belonged there.

"Didn’t think I’d be here, doing this," Logan muttered under his breath, his eyes still locked onto yours. There was something vulnerable in his voice, and it made your heart beat faster.

Before you could respond, he let out a soft laugh, shaking his head as though trying to dismiss the weight of the moment. "Wade’s probably gonna never let us live this down," he added, the ghost of a grin curling his lips.

You couldn’t help but smile at his attempt to lighten the mood. "You don’t have to worry about him. I’ll take the blame," you said, the tension between you easing slightly.

Logan looked at you, his gaze more serious now, though there was still a glimmer of playfulness in his eyes. "I’m not so sure I mind…”

There was a pause of silence, but neither of you moved.

“Guess this is what happens when I let you talk me into things,” he said, his voice teasing but warm.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “I’m not complaining.”

He gave you a half-shrug, a small, hesitant smile pulling at the corner of his lips. " I’ve been thinking about this. Longer than I should’ve."

A mixture of surprise and warmth flooded through you. You could feel your cheeks flush, but the sudden honesty in his words was enough to settle the fluttering nerves in your chest.

"I’ve been thinking about it too," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, the truth coming out more easily than you'd expected. "Longer than I realized.”

His thumb gently traced the edge of your jaw, a gesture both comforting and intimate, as he let out a smirk.

"Guess we’ve been a little slow on the uptake, huh?"

“Let’s leave that for last year.”

You smiled, a soft, genuine thing, and his gaze softened in return. Neither of you needed to say more. You were here now, standing close, hearts open in a way they hadn’t been before. And maybe that was enough.

As the noise from the crowd picked up again, people shouting and celebrating the turn of the new year, Logan leaned in a little closer, his voice just for you.

 “Happy New Year,” he murmured.

"Happy New Year," you replied softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. The rest of the world seemed to fade away again, the cheers and music just background noise.

 And you were right where you needed to be.