#a n y w a y ~
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toadallytickles · 2 years ago
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Wait how do you attach the feathers to the wand? What does it look like?
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I just attached fluffy craft feathers with an elastic band! 😋
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hinamie · 3 months ago
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long way home
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lilacgaby · 2 months ago
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prohero!katsuki, who on his day off just wants to run some errands with his wife and daughter.
the only problem? your daughter hates the hoodie he has to wear to cover his hair and keep the paparazzi off of you three.
she'll always get upset in his arms, pouty and whiny as she tries to pull off the hood and expose his glorious hair to the world.
he'll do everything he can to soothe her in other ways, boop her nose the way he does before she goes to bed, bounce her around in his arms, give her a kiss on the cheek. it was really funny for you to watch your buff, tall husband panic more over making your daughter happy than beat literal villains.
but none of it works. you've just grabbed the orange juice when you notice katsuki scouting the area for others, when he pulls off his hood, immediately making your daughter giggle with glee.
he plays peek-a-boo with his hair, it keeps her entertained as you finally finish up the shopping, grabbing katsuki's protein powder and the baby treats that he'd snack on with her.
you pay, with katsuki's black card of course, and walk out the store, him holding her in one arm as he holds your hand, caressing it with his thumb.
mission success, until his daughter is finally within reach to pull off his hoodie, almost summoning the media as you're suddenly swarmed with journalists and cameras in your faces.
baby- 1 katsuki- 0
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similar read!
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nanaslutt · 11 months ago
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The nastiest man alive
ft.Geto Suguru
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contains: fem reader, spitting, finger sucking, spanking, begging, dirty talk, rough sex, dacraphillia, cum eating, unprotected sex, cumming inside, multiple rounds, established relationship
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
Geto had you on top of him riding his cock, his thick fingers digging into the fat of your ass as he helped move you up and down on his cock, his feet planted firmly on the bed so he could meet your thrusts halfway, fucking into you from underneath. "Fuck mama your pussy is so fucking loud~" Geto groaned, his eyes glued to where the two of you were connected.
You squealed in embarrassment, your moan turning into a yelp when Geto landed a heavy hand down on the fat of your ass, gripping the skin there. He watched with a slacked jaw as your cunt leaked all over his pelvis, a white ring of your cum sitting at the base of his cock from how wet you were.
Your legs suddenly tensed up when Geto thrust his cock straight into a particularly sensitive spot inside you, making your nails dig into the skin over his abs. He watched your head tip back, your mouth falling open as he quickly caught on, smiling as he fucked his cock into that same spot over and over, leaving you weak on top of him, your body bouncing weakly atop his thighs.
"What's wrong baby? 'S it feel good right here? Hmm? Right here?" Geto teased, watching your face closely as he bullied his cock inside of you, a hand sliding in front of you to rub at your clit. "Sugu- Fuck!" You whined, gritting your teeth together as both of your hands shot to his wrist, gripping his hand to try and get him to slow down--or you were going to cum.
"Nuh uh, just take it, baby, take my cock 'n my fingers~" He groaned, planting his feet closer to his body against the sheets so he could get better leverage while he fucked you. You could do nothing but whine and moan helplessly on top of Geto as he fucked the life out of you, feeling yourself quickly spiral toward your first orgasm of the night from his relentless pleasuring.
His fingers splayed themselves out against your pelvis, his thumb rubbing quickly circles against your clit, the wetness from your leaking pussy making the slide feel so fucking good. Your chin tipped down to look at the man underneath you when you felt yourself approach your high--only seconds away from tipping off the edge.
Geto knew this, of course, he knew your body better than he knew his own. Your pussy was squeezing and pulsing rhythmically around his cock, acting as if it was trying to milk him for all he was worth--of course, he knew you were about to cum. "Sugu- Sugu I'm gonna cum-" You warned him, rocking your hips against his hand, making his thumb rub your swollen clit harder.
"I know baby I know, I got you." He giggled, his eyes flitting between your own teary and your sopping wet cunt, greedily swallowing up his thick cock. You felt the first hot tear roll down your cheeks, the droplet sliding down your rosy face and finding its way to your neck, mixing with your sweat and making it unrecognizable.
"You cryin' from my cock? It feels that good?" Geto asked, cockiness laced in his tone. You would've tried to respond with something just as smart if you could, but unfortunately for you, your orgasm decided to hit you just as his words did.
"Oh fuck- Good girl, I got you mama-" Geto groaned, fucking you through your high. "I won't stop till you're done." He added, biting his lip between his teeth as he watched your body shake and jolt on top of him. Your cunt clenched around his cock like a vice, he had to take deep breaths in order to keep humping his cock into your warm walls and not spill his seed inside you.
Tears streamed down your face from both of your eyes as you came all over his cock, one of your hands falling from his wrist to catch yourself on his sturdy abs, your nails digging into his pale skin. Geto's heart sped up in his chest--of course, he didnt like seeing you sad or crying, but when it was from his dick? That was a different story.
"Ohmygod-" You whined as you started coming down, Geto noticing the way your cunt's spasms calmed down around you, his thrusts stopping in tandem. You gripped his wrist hard, signaling for him to stop rubbing your sensitive clit or you were going to pass out from the overstimulation.
Geto felt like he had come just from watching you, your expressions were so cute when you came, and the way your body was completely at his mercy while you were in such a vulnerable state made him feel high.
While you were busy catching your breath and waiting for your brain to start functioning properly again, Geto took the opportunity to sit up and wrap a strong arm around your body. His other hand came up to cradle your face. You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes as you gasped and whined from the new angle, Geto's still hard cock was pushing against your most sensitive spots inside you like this.
"Did so good baby, how did that feel?" He asked, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead. You kept your eyes shut while you spoke, letting Geto pamper your face with kisses. "'S good Sugu, thought I died for a second there." You said, resulting in a giggle from the dark-haired man.
"Yeah? Guess I did something right then huh?" He asked. It was your turn to laugh at his words, his arm wrapping tighter around your body as he kissed your face, making your bodies press flush together.
You were about to let Geto know you were ready to go again when you felt something wet and hot press against your face, the soft feeling rubbing along the length of your cheek, sliding up to your eye before it was gone, a trail of cold, wet, saliva left in its wake--Geto had just licked your tears away.
You cracked your eyes open, the undersides of your eyes a slight pinkish-red color from your crying. You stared at him with raised eyebrows, your mouth open in a small o. Geto smiled at you before pressing a kiss to your lips, "Salty." He mumbled, his hands sliding down the sides of your body and landing on your thighs as he flopped back down onto the bed, his hair sprawling out around him perfectly. How was it possible for someone to be so handsome?
"You'll swallow anything won't you?" You asked him, faux disgust plastering itself on your face as you leaned forward over him, placing your hands by his shoulders on the bed. Geto's hands came to grip the fat of your ass, massaging the fat there soothingly. "If it comes from you I'll drink up anything.~," Geto said cheesily, making you scoff.
"So dirty." You said, referring to his mouth as you gripped his chin in your hand, shaking it back and forth to emphasize your words before you placed it back down on the sheets next to his head. His hands gripped the skin of your ass before he landed another smack, making your body jolt at the unexpected feeling, a gasp slipping from your lips.
"Only for you," Geto said, smiling as he slowly began thrusting his cock inside your hole. The two of you quickly got back into a rhythm, you shut your eyes and moaned into the room as you fucked your hips back onto his cock slowly, meeting his shallow thrusts. "How are you even softer inside? Huh?" Geto asked, tipping his head to the side, trying to get a view of your pussy that was being obstructed by your body so close to his.
"Was it from how hard I made you cum? Or maybe it's so soft from how good my dick is at loosening you up." Geto babbled, making you clench around him. You felt yourself drip at his words, his slow teasing thrusts working you over so well. "S-stop talking." you chastized, squeezing your eyes together tighter as you focused on how deep he was inside you.
Geto giggled, his fingers sliding down to where the two of you met to tease around the entrance of your cunt, rubbing the opening of your cunt and the base of his cock with V-shaped fingers as he collected some of your wetness there. "Why? My words make you too horny?" He teased, keeping his eyes on your face as he watched your expression screw together as he rubbed the outside of your pussy.
His fingers were gone as soon as they came. One of his hands stayed on your ass, helping you fuck yourself on his cock while the other; covered in your cum; pressed itself to your pouted lips, the unexpected feeling making you peel your eyes open to look at him. "Open," Geto spoke, the teasing tone that was just in his voice long gone as he instructed you to suck his fingers coated in your wetness.
You obeyed his words, your mouth splitting and your tongue falling out as you let Geto slide his fingers inside your mouth. "That's it.. taste yourself for me." He whispered, fucking his hips into you harder, feeling himself throb at the sight and feeling of your lips wrapping around his thick fingers.
You moaned around them, your tongue sliding around the digits and simultaneously licking off the liquid around them as Geto watched you with an open mouth, groaning at the sight. "Don't swallow." He instructed, pressing his fingers deeper inside of your mouth, watching with furrowed eyebrows as you gagged around them.
Geto's body jerked when he felt your body react, your throat squeezing around the tips of his fingers as he continued thrusting them inside your mouth. Drool had started to leak from the sides of your lips, sliding down his fingers and creating quite a mess on his hand. One that made his balls clench with the need to fill you this instant.
"God I love how fucking messy you are with it." Geto praised, keeping his eyes glued to your mouth, his hips fucking into you harder, making you release frequent moans and whines around his fingers, vibrating them. "Suckin' them like you suck my cock, they taste that good? Huh? You like the taste of your sweet pussy?" Geto teased, biting his lip harshly between his teeth, his own words riling him up.
He groaned when you nodded, his fingers popping out from between your lips as he pulled them back unexpectedly, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his thick fingers. You watched as Geto brought the messy fingers down to his lips, licking off your remnants.
You cringed slightly at his shameless display of the need to drink up everything that came from your body. He really was a nasty nasty man. A deep blush spread across your face as he pulled his fingers from his mouth after cleaning them off, the hand going back to join his other in helping you fuck yourself on his dick.
"Let me taste you pretty. Cmon, give me a tatse." Geto begged. Tipping his head back, he stuck out his tongue, his hips thrusting into you harder as he waited for you to understand what he meant. The dull taste of your pussy on his tongue from his fingers wasn't enough, he needed more, he needed to taste exactly what you did--and instead of scooping some more up directly from the source, Geto thought of a better way to taste you, a filthier way, one more fitting for him.
"Spit in my mouth mama, dont keep me waiting." He begged, his cheeks dusting pink as he felt himself get closer and closer to his high--waiting for the final thing you needed to give him to push him over the edge. "You can't be s-serious-" You moaned, getting cut off by a groan when he made you roll your ass down against him harder, his cock drilling into your sweet spot from the new angle.
"So fucking serious, I need it, spit in my mouth pretty cmon, cmon, just once, please. He begged, sticking his tongue out once more as he waited patiently to feel it. You felt your entire body heat up at his request. Sure, he had spit in your mouth before, but never the other way around. You were shocked he wanted you to do something like this, you knew Geto was dirty but this felt.. extra dirty for some reason, especially with the way he was begging.
"Y-you're so disgusting Suguru." You whispered, and with that, you grabbed his chin and leaned forward. Geto stuck his tongue out further, moaning shamelessly as he waited for you to spit in his mouth. You wadded up a glob of saliva in your mouth, hyping yourself up you took a deep breath before you just--did it.
Geto moaned a drawn-out moan when he felt your spit hit his tongue, the saliva immediately being swallowed by the man under you before he stuck his tongue back out to show you he had swallowed it, a fucked out smile on his face.
You whined, your lip pouted out in embarrassment before you leaned forward to crash your lips with his, tasting exactly what he just had on your tongue. The two of you moaned and whined into the other's mouth, the kiss being so full of teeth and tongue as he humped his cock into you at an inhuman pace, his balls ready to fill you full of his cum.
"Thank you- thank you fuck- cuming baby- cum- nghhh-" Geto's groan was cut off when you pressed your lips back on his, his mouth opening slightly into the kiss as his cock shot hot ropes of cum deep inside you, his hips thrusting his dick to the hilt inside you, pulling back he fucked the entirety of his cock into you over and over again as he came, his cock hitting your cervix making you whine and cry in painful pleasure as you milked him of everything he was worth.
You broke the kiss, hiding your head in the crook of his neck to whine and gasp into the skin there, the puffs of your rapid breaths tickling his skin. Geto's eyes were squeezed shut as he rode out the aftershocks of his orgasm, holding your body tightly against his, your hearts syncing up to bead rapidly with one another, sounding like you had just run a marathon.
Once Geto's cock started softening inside of you, he started rubbing his hands over your back soothingly, scratching his nails over your skin as he listened to you hum in appreciation into his neck. "You did so well for me baby, you feelin' okay? Anything hurt?" Geto whispered, tilting his head agaisnt the side of your face.
You shook your head, wrapping your hands over his shoulders, keeping your face buried in his neck. "I'm a little embarrassed though." You mumbled, feeling your face heat up with the realization of what he had made you do.
Geto burst out in a laugh, his body shaking yours on top of him. He pressed a kiss to the side of your face between giggles, a heavy hand coming to pet your hair. "I'm so glad you put up with my requests, I love you." He whispered, pressing another kiss to the side of your temple. You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut as you wrapped your body tighter around his, still not ready to come back to reality just yet.
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mostly-imagines · 6 months ago
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There’s A String Tied to My Lower Left Rib, Third From The Bottom
dick grayson x afab!reader
aka the professional boyfriend
warnings: she/her pronouns used, reader wears dresses, sexual content at the end (18+)
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Dick Grayson is a vigilante. He’s a master martial artist and gymnast. He’s something of a playboy and a heavy flirt. But the claim he really takes pride in is that he’s basically a professional boyfriend. That he’s your professional boyfriend.
And pride really is the right word. He’s so proud that he gets to have this pretty girl on his arm and buy her pretty things even when you insist you have enough. He loves getting to help you take your makeup off when you’re too tired and make you laugh like it’s his job. He’s absolutely gratified that he gets to be your prodigal, sweet boyfriend that, despite your protests, insisted on carrying all five of your shopping bags for you.
You step over an uneven stretch in the sidewalk and lean slightly against Dick’s shoulder. “I’m worried the navy one is too…much.” You say, thinking back to how the blue cocktail dress fit on you, how it stopped barely below your ass.
He furrows his eyebrows with a pout, “Too much?”
You look over at him, matching his expression. “It’s really short. I mean it’s cute and I like it, but…I don’t know, this is kind of a fancy event isn’t it?” 
He puckers his lips, shaking his head. “Short’s good. I like short.” Yeah, you’d noticed with the way his eyes had been glued to the hem of your dress, willing it to slip up just a little more.
You laugh, “And I’m sure you and all the old businessmen will appreciate it greatly.”
His face drops at that, not thrilled at the prospect of those, usually very sleazy, old men getting to see so much of you. “The black one’s good too.”
You peer over into one of the bags, “Or there’s the red one with the—”
Dick shakes his head quickly, “Not red.”
You snicker at that, knowing full well what his problem is with it. “Then why did I get it?”
“Just for me.” He pauses, “Or for something my brother won’t be at.” He mumbles, scanning both sides of the street. He shuffles the bags in his right hand onto his forearm so he can take your hand in his as you step into the road. “No, the black one looked great on you. And we won’t have to go searching for a matching tie.” 
Once you reach the other side he lets go of your hand and he circles behind you, nudging you over to the inside of the sidewalk.
You glance down at the row of bags littering his arms and the red indents beginning to mark his skin. “Will you please let me hold some?” You frown.
“Will you please hold my hand?” He echoes, matching your serious tone with faux urgency of his own. You deadpan him but take his hand anyway. You don’t notice it, but he’s got a dedicated gaze focused on your fingers intertwined in his.
You continue on down the street, hand in hand, the warm sun shining on your necks. You pick up the pace a bit as you approach your apartment building, aiming to get the door for your boyfriend. You reach for the handle only for Dick to call out, “Don’t touch that!” followed by him clamoring like you’re about to touch a hot coal, rushing over to beat you to the punch.
“Oh my god..” you mumble to yourself, biting back a smile. The bags haphazardly fall further down his arms, no doubt uncomfortably as he pulls the door open for you, pretending to be far more eloquent than he actually was. He gestures you in and smiles sweetly at you when you give him a flat look. 
“What is wrong with you?” You ask, glancing over your shoulder at him with amusement glittering across your face as you dig for your keys.
“Not a thing.” He grins, watching with adoration as you open the apartment door. Frankly, you’re surprised he didn’t attempt to juggle the bags and unlock the door himself.
He kicks the door shut behind him as you help slide the bags off of his wrists, piling them on the counter. “When do we need to leave?”
“Uh…” he glances at the wall clock, “Not till seven.” He places his hands nicely on your waist, looking down at your lips. “You wanna get something to eat before we go?”
You muse, “This is the one with those mini stakes, isn’t it?” He nods. “No, I wanna get my fill on those. Oh, and the bruschettas! I love these caterers.”
His eyes flicker back up to meet yours, a sly smile playing on his lips. 
You break away from his gaze and turn to the counter, preparing to scoop the shopping bags up when you’re interrupted by his relentless fervor.
“Ah, ah.” He hooks a finger into the loop of your jeans, tugging you back to him. “Give me a kiss.” 
“Dick.”
“Just one.” Yeah, right. You oblige him though, pushing up on your toes to meet his lips. His thumb strokes your cheek as he kisses you deeply. You break the kiss after a moment only for him to chase your lips to follow it up with another. And then another. And another. He hums against your lips, smiling wide. “Thank you, baby.”
You pull back again and smile as you stop his chest with your hand when he follows. “Ah, I’m not new around here. I know where this’ll go if I let you.”
He nods complaisantly, “Then let me.” His eyes are focused on the small space between you, where his touch lingers along your ring finger. You lean up again and place a kiss on his forehead that has him getting hopeful, only to be met with disappointment when you back away from him, bags in hand. He throws his head back with a groan just to really hammer home the severity of his dismay.  
It doesn’t last too long though because the second you’re back in the room he’s trailing after you like a puppy, following you down to the couch. You roll your eyes at him when he opts to sit ridiculously close to you, though there’s a ghost of a smile on your lips that makes your act lose all credibility.   
He nestles his face into the crook of your neck and is clearly very pleased when you wrap your arms around his shoulders. You exhale contentedly, resting your cheek against his head. You lie idle like that for a few minutes, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck and casting a daydreaming gaze out the window. And apparently, he was daydreaming too. 
“I wanna marry you.” He murmurs into your neck after a while. 
You laugh incredulously, “Have you been drinking when I have my back turned?”
“‘M serious.” He nudges you off him so he can look at you.
You hum, sweeping his hair back from his forehead. “You’re being very…” you scrunch up your mouth to the side, “…Ostentatious today.” 
He barks out a laugh, “Wow. Word-A-Day teach you that one?”
You shove at his forehead back with no real force, biting back a giggle. His eyes flicker back and forth between your mouth and the crinkle in your eyes as he grins. “I’m going to let that one go because you got me some really nice clothes today. As your repayment.” you say, running your finger over his lips. 
He takes your hand, pressing a firm kiss to it. “Let me marry you?” 
You sigh bashfully, “Dick—”
“Please?” He sticks his bottom lip out and gives you his puppy eyes, causing you to avert your gaze quickly. You’re not convinced he doesn’t have a superpower in that area.
You know he’s not really proposing right now, he’s too much of a romantic to do it like this. He’s just getting the idea in your head, getting you excited about it. It’s working.
“I’d be such a good husband to you.” He kisses your collarbone, “So good.” He murmurs against your skin, lips never departing. You struggle to keep your face neutral, making a point of closing your eyes in an attempt to increase your odds of success. He’s being nice though, you know. To let you play pretend right now when you know he could break your facade in a second if he really wanted to.  
“Mrs. Grayson…” he squeezes your hips, lips traveling further down. “Doesn’t that sound pretty?”
It really does. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about marrying him before. He’s nothing if not husband material and honestly you really really want to hear him call you his wife. Call him your husband.
Your hand moves to his hair, petting it softly as he goes on. “Buy you a nice ring. Pretty white dress ‘n a big party just for you.” He brushes your shirt up and trails open mouthed kisses down your stomach. Your chest feels warm and you can feel your pulse thrumming all throughout your body.
He slowly guides your underwear down your thighs, his lips following the hem close behind. “Come home to you every night, kiss these pretty thighs,” He scoops both of your hands up in one of his, pinning them to your stomach. “Kiss this pretty pussy.” He places a chaste kiss on your clit and looks up at you expectantly.
You’re not nearly as hesitant on this as you’re pretending to be, and you both know it. But he’s perfectly fine with begging a little while you pretend you’re not lightheaded at the idea of marrying him. “I’ll think about it…” 
He grins at you before going in on your core without mercy.
He’s trying real hard to land that promotion.
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🩵 reblogging = supporting; likes don’t do the job 🩵
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sleepymarimo · 3 months ago
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imagining 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 taking your daughter tsumiki for a day out after you grilled him for spending too much ‘guy time’ with little megumi.
he says he’s not good with dolls and princess stories, but after you tell him about how sad tsumiki was the day prior, he makes it a point to take her out.
everyone’s heads turn when he walks into the hello kitty cafe, dressed in black from head to toe and holding the hand of a little girl with your hair and his eyes. moms blush and talk among themselves, workers wonder if they need to call someone, little kids stare and the occasional one points.
he doesn’t care though. all he sees is tsumiki’s big smile, and that’s enough.
toji is almost a whole head taller than the worker, whose hands clutch the ordering tablet while they stiffen in their pink striped uniform. “uh, what can I get for you, sir?”
his green eyes flicker down to his daughter, who clutches his arm with one hand while the other points at the menu. “the cinnamoroll, papa! the one in the blue! with the sparkles!”
a grunt leaves him, then he’s unintentionally staring down the employee. “uh, the cinnamon roll one”-
“cinnamoroll, papa!” tsumiki corrects, tugging his arm a bit.
“cinnamoroll, the cinnamoroll drink,” toji repeats, a little nauseated by the scent of the sweets, but bent on making his girl happy. “and, uh…”
he searches for a drink he can tolerate, brow raising as he finds one. “the baddo batsu black coffee.”
a few taps on the ordering tablet and the employee looks up. “anything else, sir?”
it’s almost comical how he looks to tsumiki, waiting for her approval. she squeezes his hand and reaches over the counter to grab at a pack of tiaras sporting the cute little characters she loves so much.
toji pays, the pair waits for their drinks, then they sit at a table together. tsumiki places one tiara on her head, quickly giving the other to her papa. he lets her babble on about about who these characters are, asking her questions and spoiling her rotten.
and when tomorrow comes, he feels more than satisfied when you tell him about how tsumiki called yesterday the best day of her life.
maybe he’ll take her every week, actually.
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creek-ink · 6 months ago
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which one??
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ref^
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 3 months ago
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♡ ring pops, chocolates, proposals ! ♡
katsuki loves you throughout the years.
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BOOM !! surprise extra on your foreheads !!! this is basically a lil extra to rpp from katsu n readers pov ! i thought it was cute n i hope yall enjoy it too <33 !! much luv xx
fem reader, slight anime n manga spoilers ! food (candy and chocolate), jealous katsuki, mentions of dicks bc katsuki calls someone one, katsuki n reader are in their 20s, reader loves rain, katsuki does not, proposal, kissinggg, reader likes romance (implied sligthly), katsuki does not (kinda), soft n emotional katsuki bc I LOVE HIM FIGHT MEEE!!! RAAHHH!!!, short n sweet, proposal, lmk if i missed sum else !! <33
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"for you."
katsuki, age 6 stands in front of you. no more words are said from him as he looks off to the side, beet red face turned away from you with outstretched hands. and clutched tightly in his hands, a ring pop in your favourite color.
you beam, immediately taking it from him. "thank you, katsu !" you chirp, quickly popping the candy into your mouth. katsuki's shoulders relax when he sees you've taken the offering from him although he doesn't meet your eye fully just yet.
"do you wanna share ?" you ask sweetly, already reaching out your candy towards him seeing that he didn't have one of his one in hand. he furiously shakes his head, pushing your hand back towards you.
"no ! and this one's for you ! i already got one.." he insists, shoveling around in his backpack before the crinkle of a wrapper grabs both of your attention. he pulls out the bag of sweet ring pops and picks out an orange one for himself. showing it to you while his eyes drift away from yours. you smile, seeing that you can both eat candy together now.
"i-it's a ring. so..you're my wife," he states. your big eyes widen at him and his glowing red cheeks. you look back down at the candy you've been eating pressed around your finger. it's bigger than the rings you see on tv.
you like katsuki. he was a little rough sometimes, and he could be a little mean. but he always played with you and shared his coloured pencils. he'd sit in the reading corner with you and hold your hand when you'd go on field trips.
"oh, really ?" your face heats, he nods. "want you to be my wife, cus haruto's always lookin' at you..a-an' you're my friend. not his." he mumbles bitterly. you like haruto, he's nice to you, but not as much as katsuki. katsuki was your best friend.
"does that make you my husband then ?" katsuki gets red to the tips of his ears and his nose is practically pressed into the collar of his shirt but he nods anyways. you beam again, the taste of the flavoured candy still on your lips. " i like that !"
katsuki blinks at you, chubby little cheeks pulling into a smirk and he drops to sit down next to you roughly on the grass. finally popping his own ring in his mouth.
"then you're my wife, yeah ?" you nod and he grins, you hear the candy clack around his mouth. "means you're only ever gonna be with me." and you nod again happily because you like that, you like the thought of only being with katsuki, because he's your best friend ever.
"mhm !"
"..forever." he adds tentatively and when you nod again he snickers to himself.
wait till stupid deku hears about this.
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valentine's day was fucking stupid. and white day was even stupider.
besides them being the corniest holidays ever, katsuki finds the whole concept stupid. why do you need an entire day just to grow the balls to tell someone you like them ? and the worst part is that some fuckers have the audacity to try that shit with you.
katsuki remembers when he'd started despising the stupid holidays. it was in his first year of middle school and you opened up your locker to see some chocolates and a hand written note.
it was cheesy. and fucking stupid. but you smiled about it.
you fucking liked it.
the bastard even had the nerve to walk up to you at the end of the day, when you're supposed to go home with katsuki and end up coming over to his house to do your homework together (so he could stare at you) then stay over for dinner and play some video games (so he could touch you, poke your sides to make you trip up and pinch your nose when you end up losing to him) or watch a movie (so he could hear you laugh)
you were supposed to be all his. but instead you reassure him that you'll be back in a second.
and katsuki's antsy and so annoyed his skin prickles, but he swallows it down and drags his feet towards the gates as he waits, like hell he'll leave you alone with some limp dick bastard.
he did feel better when you said you rejected the loser, and he felt much better when you still ended up spending the afternoon with him. but he couldn't stop thinking about it.
valentine's day and such was so fucking stupid in katsuki's eyes. but maybe you liked it ? you never cared much for romance outside of those stupid rom-coms you like, but maybe there was more to it.
katsuki couldn't admit it to himself then, but he hates the holidays because there's a whole day for him to grow some balls and ask you out. and yet he couldn't fucking do it.
until his first year at u.a. and you hand him a box of chocolates.
dark chocolate, you specified. "since i know you don't really like sweets all that much." you said. the slight tremble in your voice made him swallow harshly. it felt different than the chocolates you'd handed out to your classmates earlier (which he was absolutely not jealous about. at all.) and the sheer size of the box compared to the little baggies you'd handed spoke too.
these were different. these were just for him.
his bag feels extra heavy when he walks home that day, and he's never loved chocolate more than the day you'd made some just for him.
"the chocolates weren't bad." was all he'd texted you (he wasn't sure he'd be able to talk to you properly on the phone that day lest you heard the shakiness in his voice.) but he knew what he needed to do.
and a few months later, white day rolls around and katsuki still thinks it sucks. it's a stupid holiday. but he spent the entire day making these stupid holiday chocolates for you. and his ears burn when he tells you that he only made these for you, because you're the only one he cares about enough to make some stupid chocolates for on a holiday he hates.
and you smile, so bright and pretty and so you. and katsuki feels like he's on top of the world when you shyly kiss his cheek, your hand in his grip on your way home.
he guessed he'll have to tell his mom about this..and maybe think about thanking her.
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the day katsuki plans to propose to you, it rains.
and not even regular rain, a fucking downpour.
and due to prior experiences and feelings he’s had since childhood, he fucking hates rain.
but you love it. when you were kids you loved jumping in puddles and during morning time, you were drowsier and more prone to falling asleep when it was raining. when you got older, you'd always gasp happily when it started to rain, even though katsuki scoffed every time you did, mean mugging the window. he'd asked you what you liked about rain every year you were together, because it was cold, it made the ground sloshy and slippery and it made his quirk basically obsolete when he was younger and harder to use the older he got. there was absolutely nothing fun about that. and you'd always tell him the same exact thing.
"i like it 'cus i just do." you'd respond simply. he always raised a brow at you, but let it be. he couldn't change your mind about it and that was it.
with his proposal plans down the gutter, you're cuddling bed. you yawn in his arms, the tapping against the window putting you at ease. katsuki can admit it's not ear grating, but he'd much rather it just—not rain at all. and he wishes that so much more now, stupid fucking rain..ruining his fucking plans to fucking marry you..
"why do you like this shit so much ?" he asks you the question he's been asking you for years now as you lay against his warm chest. he doesn't mean to do it, only realising he's been asking you this practically all his life after the fact. and it makes him realise how long you've been together when you calmly respond the way you always have, cheekily smiling up at him.
you stick your tongue out at him "i like it 'cus i just do."
oh. fuck.
katsuki doesn't know exactly why that sets him off. maybe because the fact you've been together for two decades makes him emotional. maybe it's because throughout all these years your answer hasn't changed and you haven't changed and your feelings haven't changed for him. you still smile up at him, you did when you were kids when he'd asked you to be his wife with those cheap ring pops he'd begged his mom to buy. you did in middle school even when he thought you had a crush on izuku for a while and it made him act in such an embarrassing way he doesn't want to remember it, but he does anyway. you smiled up at him when he'd asked you out with the chocolates he'd spend hours working on, making them perfect for you. and when he'd told you to just move in with him because "you're basically here all the time anyway."
you've always been there, and he's always loved you. since the day you'd mesmerised him so much at six years old he had to talk to his mom about you.
katsuki absolutely fucking hates rain, and he doubts that'll change anytime soon, and it ruined his perfect proposal. but he can't hear the rain in his ears anymore when he abruptly flips you onto your back to kiss you. all he hears in the tiny giggles you let out when he smacks three wet kisses onto your lips before diving in for a longer one. i love you, they say. he can only hear your fingers sneaking into his hair and scratching at his scalp and the happy sigh you let out when he runs his tongue across your lips.
"m'breath stinks," you mumble drowsily, katsuki grumbles, pulling away just far enough to tell you "i don't give a fuck." and diving in again. you squeal in surprise. it's all he hears.
"fuckin' love you." he grunts against your lips, you hum, briefly able to pull away to catch your breath to tell him you love him too, and pulling him closer to you, the rustling of your sheets, yours and his, is all he hears.
"yeah ? you love me ?" he whispers, going to nibble at your ear. he's all over you, pressing sloppy kisses along your neck and you giggle, "mhm, love you." you sigh.
"fuck.." he breathes again, bringing his face back up to yours he presses his forehead to yours "fuck—so," he places another kiss to your lips, he gulps "so marry me."
and then you blink at him "what ?" you breathe heavily, softly chuckling. and the rapid beating of his heart is all he hears, but then your eyes go glossy and you whisper, voice broken and wobbly "..what ?"
he huffs to himself, his hands search for yours and intertwine when he finds them. like the day he'd pulled you over to his mom so he could ask her to let you come over to play at his house. like when you'd offered it to him when he took you to prom and you looked more beautiful than he could ever utter. he wonders how you'd look during your wedding. he's thought about it more times than he can count.
he takes a deep breath, not pulling away "i wasn't supposed to tell you like this, fuckin rain.." he scoffs. "but—fuck, i just—you've always been there, always been with me. since i was a snot nosed fuckin' brat and at times were you shoulda left my ass." he's forgotten the shit he wanted to say, simply blurting out what's on his mind. he feels a little bad, because kirishima had helped him with his speech, but his heart beats too hard to care.
"but m'glad you didn't. m'glad you didn't before and i'm glad you haven't now 'cus i love you so fuckin' much." you let out a giggle mixed with a little sob at his constant nervous cursing and it makes him smile lightly too.
"i know there are times where i've been a pretty shit boyfriend but..but i mean it, y'know ?" he sniffs a bit, and you shake your head "you've never been a shit boyfriend, suki. just a bit of a pain in my ass sometimes," you giggle but your eyes are overflowing with tears. he chuckles and fights back tears of his own with a sniffle again.
"yeah, major pain..but even still i—when i told you i wanted you to be my wife back when we were kids, i meant it. an' when that fuckin loser tried to ask you out on valentines day in middle school, i wanted to knock his fuckin' teeth in." he smirks, and you try to hide your laugh with a gasp "wanted to tell him you were mine."
"you're such a baby. i remember how pouty you were about it."
" i wasn't pouty," he rolls his eyes, his smile doesn't disappear. he wipes away a tear about to roll down your cheek before you can get his your shirt sleeve wetter then it already is "you could've just told me back then," you whisper, holding onto the hand on your cheek and pressing a kiss to his palm. katsuki feels his heart swell.
"i should've told you a lot of shit back then," he laments. he remembers when shigaraki put holes in him and the constant flashes of you on his mind. when he woke up in the hospital and you'd been there and he just couldn't tell you those three words. he'd figured that since you were both alive, he could tell you later when shit was less..messy.
except shit kept getting messier, and then when katsuki blew a hole into his heart he'd wished he could've told you how much he loved you.
but then he had gotten another chance, another chance to be with you. to be the best damn boyfriend in the world like he'd promised you he'd be, to make you happy, and he didn't care if shit got even messier, he didn't care to be scared. when he woke up with his mom and dad, a doctor and you. everything else blurred in his mind and despite your runny nose and your mix of how much you'd missed him and how worried you were but also scolding him on how much of a dummy he was, katsuki couldn't help but smile.
his mom still teases him about how the first words that he'd blurted out after waking up from his operation getting chastised by doctors were "fuck, i love you."
"but, i won't regret not telling you shit anymore. i won't wait any longer either," he kicks out of the sheets, reaching for the lowest drawer of his nightstand to pull out a little red box, grabbing you with him and placing you down right in front of him. he kneels down on one knee, like when he used to tie your shoelaces for you because you didn't know how to, and how he does to this day because 'you want to crack your head against the side walk so bad, but i don't wanna see that shit.'
he grabs your hand, and with a wobbly voice asks you "will you marry me ?"
and finally, katsuki stops hearing his own heart beat and hears the gentle tapping of the rain, still pouring, but it puts him slightly at ease when you nod and squeal out a 'yes !'
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<33
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grimmweepers · 2 months ago
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— ☆ contents: sfw, dad!sukuna handling the morning routine with your girls while you're away, fem!reader, vague hair descriptors for your babies (mention of messy hair and braids), maybe a little ooc, 0.8k wc | masterlist
"Please do our hair, Papa!"
And just like that, their adorable cheeks and flashy grins worked their magic, turning the rare morning without you into a delightful little circus.
It was honestly a travesty, a cosmic joke of the highest order that Sukuna—a man of men, built like he was meant to father sons upon sons—had been blessed with two daughters. And not just any daughters but two miniature versions of you.
You used to get so stressed leaving him alone with them but as they grew into their little personalities, you realised it wasn’t the girls you needed to worry about—it was him.
Sukuna stood in front of the mirror, holding a comb in his hand like it was a foreign weapon, and your youngest, who was perched on a stool in front of him, frowned when she saw that after all his awkward attempts, her hair was still a wild mess.
"Mama doesn't do it like this," she said matter-of-factly. All of four years old but already an expert in hair etiquette, apparently.
He sighed, glancing at her in the mirror with a look of defeat. “Well, guess what? Mama’s not here,” he gruffed, although his mouth twitched upward in amusement, "So you’ve gotta deal with me.”
She pouted as she crossed her little arms, scrunching her nose while giving him the tiniest glare. Sukuna chuckled at the sight. She looked just like you.
“But Mama doesn’t hurt me,” accusatory eyes pierced into her father as if the tugs at her scalp were intentional.
He stopped, deadpan, like he was facing the toughest opponent of his life. “You think I’m trying to hurt you on purpose?” He pointed at the comb, “This thing’s got a mind of its own.”
Your eldest daughter, who had been lounging on the futon and flipping through a picture book, piped up with a smirk, “Mama says you need to be gentle, Papa.”
“Gentle?” he muttered under his breath. She heard him regardless and nodded back at him.
Another dramatic exhale left his lips. He started again, much slower this time, painstakingly working the brush through his daughter’s hair. “Alright, princess, by the time I’m done, you’ll look so pretty, Mama's gonna be jealous. She might even eat you.”
The youngest giggled at that, wiggling in her stool as Sukuna brushed through the last tangle without any major casualties. As he tied off the braid with a ribbon, he stepped back, standing tall with his hands on his hips, impressed with his own work. “There,” he said with more confidence than he probably should, “Nailed it.”
She gave him a sidelong glance, still skeptical but he could see the admiration she was trying to hide, “It’s… okay,” she declared her final verdict. She was acting like it wasn’t the best job though her tone said otherwise.
Meanwhile, your eldest, still on the futon, didn’t miss a beat. “Mama would’ve done it faster.”
Of course, they adore you. Everyone did. But when you weren't around, Sukuna—who could wipe out an entire army with a single swipe and set whole villages aflame—found himself outmatched by a hair comb and two pint-sized versions of the love of his life. It’s no wonder you were able to tame the girls.
But he caught your eldest sliding a thumbs up from behind her book, her way of saying—It looks good, Papa.
And he thinks maybe he’s doing alright. Although, if you were here you would’ve probably swooped in and rescued him long ago whilst being heavily amused by his struggle. Of the two of you, it wasn't difficult to figure out who was more gentle and patient. He swore you could do motherhood in your sleep and he already knew you would tease him later about this.
“You’re thinking about Mama, aren’t you?” Your eldest asked with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, catching him off guard.
“What makes you say that?” He blinked at her. That slyness? Maybe she took after him more than he'd realised.
She shrugged with all the wisdom of a seven year old who’s already figured out her father. “You always get that look on your face when you’re missing her.”
Sukuna shook his head, “Well, your Mama makes this look easy.” He went back to inspecting his youngest’s head knowing deep down it was far from the flawless work you would’ve done, “Okay, princess. You’re good to go.” She beamed at him and hopped off the stool, happily oblivious to the way the ribbon had already started slipping.
As soon as she scampered off to grab her stuffed bear, he turned his attention to his eldest again, who was quirking her eyebrow and looking every bit like you.
“Listen, kid. Don’t think you’re getting out of this,” he pointed at the stool while giving her a playful glare, “Your turn.”
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a/n: holding all of your hands during these trying times. this has been sitting in my draft since august so im glad it's finally out huehue
© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform
dividers by @/adornedwithlight
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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 11 months ago
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COME REST YOUR BONES NEXT TO ME ; SATORU GOJO, SUGURU GETO
synopsis; satoru shares the first snowfall of the year with the two people he loves most. 
word count; 4.6k
contents; satoru gojo/reader/suguru geto (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, you're all whipped, reader referred to as spouse, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly domestic, just comfy vibes all around, mostly from satoru’s pov, suguru has a favorite (its you) (but also not really he just likes bullying toru <3), satoru gojo may or may not have unresolved mommy issues
a/n; happy satosugu holidays to those who celebrate <33 geto died today isnt that crazy. dont u think its fucked up how love figuratively and literally killed him. anyway! help urself to two very whipped husbands <33
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”holy shit!”
the raspy tilt of satoru’s voice echoes throughout the bedroom, stirring you from your comfortable slumber. a soft groan spills from suguru’s lips, deep and husky, as he pulls you closer into his embrace — smoothing a warm palm down the back of your head. trying to soothe you back to sleep, muttering under his breath.
”satoru, it’s too early for this...”
”it’s snowing!” said man continues, unperturbed. unmistakably giddy. he’s standing by the window, hands pressed flush against the cold glass; entirely entranced by the sight in front of his cerulean eyes. 
your eyelids begin to flutter. a tiny tug of your subconscious, a pang of something excited flowing through your veins, an alert to your sleepy brain.
(snowing.)
with groggy movements, you wriggle out of suguru’s grasp — a displeased grumble leaves his throat, almost a whine — allowing you to scramble out of bed. ”really?” you chirp, rubbing the sleep from beneath your eyes. a raspy, meek little voice spilling into the air.
satoru grins, watching you move closer, watching as a tiny gasp pushes past your lips. watching as your droopy eyes widen — brightening, glittering, starlight and snowflakes painted on the interior of your iris. a breathtaking sight, he thinks. 
maybe even more breathtaking than the winter wonderland reflected in it; beyond the pure opaque frosting of the window’s glass, out into your backyard, buried beneath a thick layer of snow. soft and fluffy, covering the city, suguru’s long-frozen tulip garden, the bare branches of your apricot tree. every roof in sight. all of it dyed a pure white, glittering in the light of a morning sun yet to fully rise, tiny snowflakes descending down to earth. 
it’s beautiful. 
satoru loves winter. he always has, he thinks. it comes to him as a memory — blurred at the edges, gleaming even still, the first time he saw those snowflakes up close. someone held him in their arms, he recalls. a warmth long faded. 
all he can properly remember is that sight. one that knocked the breath from out his tiny lungs, all glitter and something almost other-worldly, something frightening in its majesty. like it broke through a rift in the stratosphere. 
the first snow of the year.
and he’s loved it ever since; the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet, an air heavy with the scent of cinnamon and candied apples, bouts of laughter to be heard from faraway apartments. red and green glimmers of artificial light, sweet frosting on the christmas cake he would always gobble up alone in his room. the cold wind, nipping at his bare fingers — a reminder of his capacity for ache.
there are lots of things to love. lots of memories to cherish. and every single year, he gets the chance to make more.
like this; the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the excitement in how hurriedly you turn to meet his giddy gaze. a nostalgic kind of joy simmering in the space between you.
and before either of you know it, satoru’s pulling you towards the hallway, intent on dragging you outside to see it all up close. almost tripping over his agumon plush, lying unassumingly on the floor, kicked off the bed once again. 
(probably by satoru himself, though he’ll always insist it was suguru’s doing. overcome by his jealousy, surely, unable to stand the sight of his cute husband cuddling up to a plushie instead of him. satoru understands, he does — he feels the same when he sees you hug that 3’0 cat plushie of yours.
and, sure, maybe once or twice he’s been lucid enough to register the subconscious kick of his leg and agumon’s subsequent fall to the floor — but he’ll still blame suguru in the morning. if only to see the way said man rolls his eyes, clicks his tongue, maybe flicks his forehead if he’s really lucky.)
high on the spirit of christmas, spurred on by childlike elation and sleep-deprivation, you stumble towards the door. satoru pulls one of his jackets over your shoulders, delighting in the way your hands don’t fully reach through the sleeves. wrapping you up in a cozy scarf when suguru shouts at you both to dress warmly, barely awake and already tired of your antics.
and the moment you step through the door, satoru is engulfed by it. that mystical, mystical feeling. 
a little lonely, a little too satisfying to pass up. a cold breeze that nips at his fingertips, snowflakes that brush against his cheeks and stick to his white lashes. a warm hand in his, as you cling to his side, shuddering — but smiling, as you look up at the sky, putting a hand out just to feel the snowflakes melt against the skin of your palm.
he feels you let go of him, but doesn’t mention it. a little too mesmerized to tug you back. dipping his toes into the bittersweet nostalgia of it all, staring at the flurry of white all around you, the skeletal branches of your apricot tree. suguru’s poor tulips. humming a jolly tune, subconsciously. a little delighted.
— until something cold and wet hits the exposed skin of his neck.
satoru twitches, a chilling shudder trickling down his spine. the snowball just thrown at him begins to melt, droplets sticking to his nape, and he turns to you with a raise of his brow. a devilish grin on his lips, when he hears your muffled laughter, sees the crinkle of your eyes.
(you’re cute, he thinks. but you need to be humbled.)
”oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” he drawls, eyes gleaming with amusement. taking a step forward, reaching down to gather some snow in his palm. a wide grin on his glossy lips. ”fine by me.” 
he's fast, but you act quickly, running towards the apricot tree with laughter in your throat. feeling the pitter patter of your heartbeat resound in your ears, as the snowball misses its mark by just a hair — and you waste no time in making your own.
it’s a hard-fought duel. snowfall blocking your vision, nerves beginning to numb, red cheeks and runny noses as you chase each other with giddy breaths. unfortunately for you, satoru’s arms are unfairly long, fingers unfairly nimble, and his stamina never even seems to falter.
so before long, your energy begins to dwindle. chest heaving, hands too cold to form a proper snowball, while your husband seems like he hasn’t even broken a sweat. they just keep on coming, snowball after snowball colliding with the fabric of your jacket, and when one of them hits your collarbone you squeal — falling backwards, right into a fresh pile of snow.
satoru moves forward, a triumphant smirk on his handsome face. you’re out of breath, and your hands are red, and he’s fairly certain you’re gonna catch a cold. suguru’s going to scold him, but right now all he can think of is you. the frown you’re wearing, the little huff that slips from your lips.
”ready to admit defeat, sweetheart?” he practically purrs, standing above you with his hands on his hips. smug. and you grin right back.
”never.”
a hum. something glimmers in his eyes, a devious little glint, and you come to regret your decision when satoru gathers a heap of snow with his overgrown arms; only to drop it all on top of you. too tired to fight back, all you can do is shield your face, silently accepting your fate.
a shiver wracks through your body, and satoru almost feels bad. just a tiny bit. but then you finally relent, murmuring bitterly under your breath. ”fine, fine…” a soft pout forms on your lips. ”you win.”
and satoru smiles. crouching down to meet you at eye level, on his knees in front of you. there’s a teasing mirth in his eyes, when he reaches out to cup the fat of your cheek. ”that’s all i wanted to hear, sweet pea,” he drawls, trying not to giggle when you exaggeratedly roll your eyes.
his voice curls down an octave when he continues, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. hot breath against your chilled skin. ”now, for my prize…”
his lips meet yours, sweet and chaste — a little cheeky. you scoff into the kiss, but satoru’s smile only grows. honeyed, a little bit adoring. his tongue flits out to lick at your cold bottom lip.
he lingers, for a bit. like he’s trying to savour the way you taste, faded strawberry chapstick sticking to his lips, smudged against your own. and you sigh, softly, melting a little, comforted by the fleeting warmth that blossoms on your face. 
when he's finally satisfied, having dragged his prize out to its completion, satoru helps you up. brushing snowflakes off your jacket, cradling your ice-cold hands in his. they’re not faring much better, but a worried tug of his heartstrings compels him to warm you up. bringing them to his lips, hot breath fanning over your skin, tender little kisses against the knots of your knuckles.
you can’t help but blush, and a raspy chuckle flows from out his lips. 
hazy morning sunshine licks at the branches of the apricot tree behind you, illuminating the contours of your face, the shine of his eyes. a blue smudge on a canvas painted white and gray. the air smells of pine cones and something smokey, crisp. it courses through his burning lungs when he inhales, exhales, a breath of vapour that scatters up into the sky.
satoru loves winter. always has. but now, he’s certain he loves it even more.
because now, he has two people to share it with. two people to drag out into the snow, two people whose hands he can tenderly warm up, two people who’ll laugh and sigh at his antics and still indulge him. two people to pelt with snowballs. 
what more could a man want?
”hey, idiots!” 
the voice that echoes throughout the air is exasperated, a little teasing. yet fond. suguru’s got his hair tied into a messy half done bun, black turtleneck sweater enunciating his broad chest and the curve of his waist. there’s a fatigue in his eyes, the creases of his face, but a lazy smile is playing at his lips.
”i’m making breakfast,” he shouts, voice deep and smokey and soft even still. ”come in and warm up before you catch a cold.”
”is that any way to speak to your husband and spouse?” satoru chimes back, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. something satisfied. pleased.
suguru shoots him an unimpressed look, but his eyes soften. melting a little, at the words that spill from satoru’s lips, as if they were always meant to be there. 
(husband. spouse. suguru wills himself not to smile.)
with matching grins on your faces, the two of you stumble back towards the door. snow crunching beneath your feet, a happy noise pushing past your lips when you collide with the warmth of your husband’s chest.
”look, suguru. isn’t it pretty?” you chirp, smiling brightly. an expression he mirrors — brushing some snow from the top of your head, warm palms caressing your cold skin, setting a mental reminder to scold satoru later. sparing a brief glance at the snowy veil over reality.
then he exhales. a fond hum. ”it is.”
satoru joins you both by the door, stretching out his lanky limbs. tousled hair, wet strands sticking to his skin, reddened cheeks and a signature pout. ”suguru, my hands are cold,” he whines. ”warm ’em up for me?”
a click of his tongue. ”should’ve put some gloves on, satoru.”
a hum buzzes in your throat, and you put your hands out. itchy, a little dry. a sad frown tugs at your lips when you speak. ”my hands are also cold.”
and, like clockwork, suguru’s eyes soften. a coo tiptoeing on his tongue, engulfing your hands in his larger ones. ”aw, c’mere, my love…” his breath fans over your frozen fingertips. ”let’s get you warmed up, hm?”
satoru gasps, a hand on his chest, and you stifle a giggle. he’s acting, you both know, being a little drama queen. he knows you’re just exaggerating suguru’s double standard as a bit, that your husband would probably set himself on fire to warm either of you up.
despite that, his voice comes out thoroughly offended. ”oh, i see how it is,” he huffs, walking past the both of you. pouting deeply. ”you hate me. you hate me, and you want me to die. i understand.”
”satoru,” you coo. he hmphs, but stills, waiting for you to wrap your arms around him. and you do — a little too eager to appease your giant baby of a husband.
”we’re just joking around,” you assure him, holding back a humorous chuckle. squeezing his waist with palpable fondness. ”love you sooo much. you know that.”
satoru stays silent. but he cranes his neck, to meet suguru’s gaze, standing just behind him. narrowing his cobalt eyes — a meaningful look.
suguru sighs.
”yes, yes. we love you oh so much.” he takes a step forward, ruffling the white head of hair by the door. a lazy smile on his lips. ”now behave and go change out of your pyjamas. they’re soaked.”
his voice is teasing. exasperated, more than a little condescending. but it’s suguru, so satoru accepts it — following you both into the warmth of your home. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla hangs heavy in the air, a hint of espresso and firewood, lulling him into a sweet state of tranquility. rich with comfort, safety.
he changes out of his wet clothes, pulling a black hoodie over his head before waltzing into the kitchen. and you do the same, emerging from your bedroom in one of suguru’s cozy sweaters, knitted and smelling of bergamot. 
when suguru notices, his gaze shifts into something fond. palpable. a look satoru always finds in the scope of those warm eyes, amber and cedar bleeding into something sweet, only ever directed at the two of you. a look said man assumes goes unnoticed. he’s not as slick as he thinks.
the kitchen simmers with hazy sunlight and gentle movements, something sleepy and kind. satoru is a little bit enamored with it; from bowls of cat food by the corner, to camellias by the windowsill, cookie jars and dried lemon slices, the fading scent of baked goods and wishlists stuck to the fridge.
(yours and satoru’s are filled with scribbles, new ideas popping up daily, while suguru’s is almost entirely blank; mostly necessities, one or two things he’d like for himself.
and then, of course, the same thing he writes at the top of his wishlist every year; some peace and quiet.)
suguru shuffles around the kitchen, long strands of black hair cascading down his back, swaying with his movements. he sends you both an affectionate glance when you step in, already in the process of making satoru his cup of hot chocolate — topped with marshmallows and whipped cream, colorful sprinkles in the shape of tiny stars, a touch of cinnamon. satoru licks his lips.
when it's finished, the cup is promptly handed to him, paired with a tender kiss to his forehead. and suguru starts the meticulous brewing of your coffee, steady hands, finely chosen coffee beans, the low purring of the espresso machine. soothing.
that’s when you attach yourself to his back. wrapping your arms around his waist, a sleepy yawn muffled into the fabric of his turtleneck. he places a big palm on your hand, thumb smoothing over your knuckle, and you nuzzle into him silently. suguru smiles.
”still sleepy, baby?” he questions, a coo on the tip of his tongue. his voice is soft, palpably so, buzzing with warmth and safety and something that makes you want to stay cuddled up to him forever.
satoru senses an opportunity to insert himself into the conversation, and forces out a yawn of his own. stretching his limbs like a big cat, blinking drowsily, eyelashes fluttering. hoping it’ll come off as endearing. ”mhm.” 
but suguru shoots him an unimpressed look. ”not you,” he tuts, patting your arm, ”this baby. i wasn’t asking you.”
a pout. ”why are you so mean to me?” he whines, shooting you a doe-eyed look. bottom lip jutting out slightly, a feigned glassiness to his eyes. ”sweetie, tell your husband to stop being so mean to me.”
you smile. indulgent, as always. ”don't be so mean to him, suguru. you know he’s sensitive.”
a sigh. deep, tinged with exhaustion. satoru shares an amused look with you — stifling a shared chuckle at suguru’s exasperation.
and suddenly, he feels something warm flutter in his ribcage. a sunkissed butterfly, wings brushing against his ribs, coaxing his lips into curling up. unmistakable fondness, almost too much to bear. the need to reach out and touch you creeps up on him, a hunger he can’t deny, but he holds back; you look comfy like that, curled up against suguru’s spine. so he only inches closer, without a word. 
his husband casts him a glance, but satoru stays silent. lips pursed, waiting for something. patient.
and suguru relents. he reaches a hand out, to tuck a stray strand of white hair behind his ear — an excuse to touch him. a silent apology. 
(i'm sorry, you big baby.)
satoru grins.
you shift from foot to foot, leaning over to see what suguru is doing, pressing buttons and taking two ceramic cups out from a wall cabinet. your eyes zero in on a particular shelf, narrowing in suspicion, before flitting over to meet your husband’s gaze.
”satoru, did you use up all my peppermint sweeteners again?”
he stiffens. just a tad, before swallowing a gulp — followed by a silly chuckle, sheepish and performative, eager to wiggle his way out of your cold gaze. ”… which sweeteners do you mean, honey?”
”don’t pull the ’honey’ card.”
”and don’t play dumb, either.”
a pout crosses his lips. betrayed. ”suguru, who’s side are you even on?”
said man gives him a look. that one look, characteristically suguru, the same one he always sends satoru’s way. one so thoroughly unimpressed it makes him feel like the world’s biggest clown. 
and satoru plays along. your dutiful, beloved clown, his posture wilting like a sad flower. suguru exhales through his nose.
”don’t steal their sweeteners.” he smooths a thumb over your knuckle, absentminded, meeting the cold metal of the ring on your finger. smiling a little at the sensation. ”buy your own.”
satoru huffs, drawn out and childish. crossing his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. ”ah, i see how it is. leaving your sweet husband to buy his own sweeteners?” he clicks his tongue. ”chivalry is dead.”
you bite back a little chuckle — satoru recognizes the cute noise you make when you do — and suguru rolls his eyes. fondly, always. ”remind me next time i go to the store and i’ll consider it.”
”hmph.”
suguru is smiling. it’s small, but genuine, worth a thousand words. and you are, too, the vague crinkle of your eyes giving you away. even as you bury your face in the curve of suguru’s back.
and ah, satoru thinks. there it is again. 
that sickeningly sweet sense of deja vu; the sensation of a certain something flourishing deep inside his chest. warming him up, trickling through his frost-bitten veins. that one little itch he never manages to satisfy, that never goes away, something that took root inside his heart years ago — watered by the sweet looks on your faces.
this everyday slice of heaven, right in front of him, that he’s been greedily partaking in ever since he moved in with you. since he married you.
(married.)
sometimes he still can’t believe it. 
”it’ll be done in a minute,” suguru hums, and satoru blinks. broken out of his syrupy stupor. ”you two go wait by the kotatsu, okay? must be cold, poor babies.” 
and, as always, his voice is a little teasing. a tiny bit condescending, if you really strain your ears, in typical suguru fashion. but it’s laced with a touch of sweetness; one that would be too much for either of you to stomach, if it were to drip out of his lips with nothing to water it down. so satoru accepts it. welcomes it, even.
and you follow his suggestion. making your way towards the living room, satoru trailing behind you, continuously enamored by every little thing he sees. every little piece of the home you’ve built for yourselves.
your living room is cozy. several potted plants seated here and there, a thick quilt to cover the kotatsu, a bowl of satsumas on top of it. a sleepy cat on your couch, golden sunshine ruffling her fur. a santa hat lies beside her, and satoru snags it without much thought. pulling it over his head.
his gaze shifts to the christmas tree over in the corner, eyes filling with a childlike kind of wonder. it’s decorated to completion, weighed down by colourful ornaments and lights, a star at the very top. suguru cut it himself, bringing the biggest and prettiest one he could find back home.
(satoru had gone with him. partially to help carry it back, mostly to get a glimpse of suguru's biceps flexing with the swing of the axe. he’s a simple man.)
and beneath it, presents are already beginning to pile up. carefully wrapped, in bows and silken paper, growing more each day. shattering suguru’s hopes of maybe having a more lowkey christmas this year — but satoru couldn’t be more relieved. this is the only time of year you let him get away with pampering you both to his heart’s content.
a smile blooms on his lips. he plops down on the floor, crossing his legs, right as suguru walks in with a coffee pot in hand. their gazes overlapping.
and something mischievous begins to brew within the blue of his eyes, something that makes suguru narrow his own. satoru pats his thigh, twice, a coo on the tip of his tongue. santa hat sitting pointedly on top of his head, fluffing up his hair.
”c’mere, suguru! sit on santa’s lap.”
”— you’re disgusting.”
the words are playful, but a pout still slips into the curve of satoru’s lips, and he huffs out a displeased little breath. his husband pretends not to hear it, so satoru turns to you — sitting so prettily to his right, already anticipating his next move. puppy dog eyes on full display, he gives you a soft tilt of his head, snowy tufts of hair falling over his eyes.
and you sigh, in what he knows is resignation. his faux pout turning into a satisfied grin.
you curl up in satoru’s lap without much of a fuss, letting him circle his arms around you. an indulgent smile rests on your lips, but he knows you love this; his broad chest against your back, the heat of the kotatsu warming your feet. breathing in the fading scent of your shampoo, he leaves a peck on the sensitive spot right behind your ear, and you try not to shudder.
then satoru smiles. squeezing you, lightly, sweetly, eyes rich with honeyed affection. voice dripping with playful endearment. ”there we go,” he coos. ”what does my angel want for christmas, hm?” 
”i want you to stop stealing my peppermint sweeteners,” comes your answer. instantaneous.
silence fills the room. a moment passes. outside your frosted windows, a bird takes flight from the branches of your apricot tree. and satoru clicks his tongue.
”… santa can only do so much, baby.”
two deep scoffs fill the air, heavy and bemused. one from you, one from suguru. satoru only giggles.
”just kidding!” he chirps, planting a kiss on the top of your head. ”don’t you worry. santa’ll give you all the peppermint sweeteners you could ever want.” 
you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. craning your head to meet his gaze. ”and he won’t end up using them all himself?”
”of course not! blasphemy.” 
a moment passes.
”… maybe one or two. as a treat.”
a string of protests slips from your lips, and satoru tries not to burst into a fit of giggles. suguru just watches, silently, smiling lightly as he pours hot coffee into two ceramic cups. steam wafting up to the ceiling, a cat jumping down from the couch to curl up in his lap. he places one in front of you, not taking a single sip of his own until he hears you hum blissfully at the taste — pink lips against white ceramic. a bitter taste on his tongue, sweetened by your approval.
then he starts peeling three satsumas, absentmindedly, and satoru swallows down the love-ridden honey choking up the back of his throat. pretending the domesticity of such a simple action doesn’t melt his heart down to the marrow. 
he turns his attention towards the window. frost sticking to the glass like spider-woven webs, soon to be melted by the glow of the mellow winter sunrays. flitting in through the curtains, cascading over the room, splattering across the floorboards. framing the hue of your hair, the smile on suguru’s lips.
and a memory comes to him. sudden, hazy, faded at the edges. ghosting his subconscious.
he remembers the frost, the biting wind, the frightening majesty of the snow that fell that day. breaking into his world through a rift in the stratosphere. he remembers the contrasting warmth of the person who held him, who cradled him close; the soft lull of a woman’s voice. 
for a moment, satoru thinks he can almost, almost see it before him. hear those gentle words, see her tired smile. why was she always so tired?
(look, satoru. isn’t it pretty?)
— he can’t recall how it sounded. if it was melodic and soft, or raspy and broken, happy or sad. but he does recall that it made him feel safe. safe enough to find comfort in a sight so other-worldly, so very foreign.
it should’ve been frightening, but it wasn’t. the first snowfall satoru ever saw knocked the breath from out his lungs, stole his heart with cold hands, left him with a suffocating nostalgia. but the memory is precious.
and now, he feels that sense of other-worldliness in this; a kotatsu for three, a warm house, peeled satsumas and promises of a christmas cake soon to be baked. one lovely spouse in his lap, the other gazing at him with that fond look he always assumes goes unnoticed. a cocoon of safety — a ghost he doesn’t need to chase anymore.
warmth. enough warmth to make up for the snow and frost outside your home, all the experiences he missed out on as a child. warmth, warmth, warmth. funny, how that happens to be satoru’s favorite thing about winter. 
he looks at the two of you, hoping you won’t pay any mind to his silence. for once, he hopes you’ll stay wrapped up in your awful, awful coffee, so bitter that just looking at it makes his throat feel dry. just so he can get away with admiring you for a little longer. from the contours of suguru’s face, to the skin of your collarbone, to the rings on your fingers. ones he put there himself. 
and ah, satoru thinks, there it is again. again and again, as always, forever. that warm, warm feeling flourishing in the depths of his chest. 
he hopes it never goes away.
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sketchquill · 18 days ago
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Greetings travelers! Perhaps I may interest you in my Corpse Puppet wares? (  ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧
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sugarverse · 3 months ago
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𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙, 𝙠𝙖𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙞 <3
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word count: 5.4k
mentions of: cheating/being cheated on by now ex bf, smut [18 or older], poc!reader, "I'll make you feel better." non quirk au, aged up to 20(reader) and 22(bkg)!
author note: kinda corny because i haven't written for direct characters in awhile but what can you do, thank you @fizziedoodle for the moodboard to go with this!
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Bakugou and you have always been best friends. Your parents would babysit for the bakugo’s and vice versa. Even things like playdates and going out to eat. Since about 5th grade, you had been like family.
Or so he had thought. For a long time he just thought of you as someone who needed to be watched over– someone he needed to take care of. He would stay up late at night during your sleepovers to ‘protect’ you from anything that could be hidden in your closet.. He'd snatch your hand whenever crossing the street, he'd just always been someone he wanted to keep safe. He knew that much after witnessing your first few heartbreaks. But even so, his perspective started to change as you both grew older. He's had girlfriends before, duh. But he could never think of you that way.
Could he?
katsuki lets out a drawn out sigh at his own thoughts, running a hand throughout his hair and tossing the remote onto the small coffee table. he stretched his legs, feeling the blood run back into them as they had began to fall asleep from his lounging.
“tch..” he groaned, scratching at his stomach and headed towards the kitchen. he hit his foot on the ground a few times as the pins and needles went away, letting out an annoyed groan. he got even more frustrated at the sound of an unfamiliar knock, stopping his journey to the kitchen to look over at the door. he let very few people know where he live, and even his most frequent visitor– you, hardly showed up unannounced. he looked over at the kitchen, rolling his eyes and reluctantly walking towards the door. shit like this is what made him a pissy person.
the knock came again, more frantic than the last time. he balled his fits. Who the hell could that be? he thought before opening his mouth to yell, swinging open the door before being forced back by nobody other than.. you?
you.
he quickly looked down at you, rubbing your back instinctively. were you crying??. "Y/n?" he knew that hair from anywhere, the sweet smell of your perfume flooding his nose.  he searched for any wounds, confused on why you were at his house so late in the evening. especially crying. you must have been hurt.. was it your face? rough hands go to tilt your head back, holding your cheeks in his palms to check over you.
your face wasn't damaged, but it didn't matter. you were too busy sobbing and pulling away from his hands to hide your face in his chest. you couldn't help it! you were crying so hard in the car you were sure you'd wreck on the way there! this was the third time in about a week or so you had talked to him about your boyfriend, which wasn't often because you didn't want to shove it into your best friend's face that you were taken. you hated when he'd have a girlfriend and boast about her to you. it made your chest ache and anger seethe through your body. you knew it had been some form of jealousy, all of his attention would be off of you for the few weeks that she'd stick around and it was torture. you'd never want him to feel like that.. however, this week was different! it seemed like you were just continuously arguing with your now ex boyfriend and it made your body ache. so much so, that you had to bring it up more than once to katsuki. like the theory that he was cheating, you could feel that.. distance. you just knew it in your gut. the constant change of behavior, always seemingly hiding his phone.. but even in the end, he tried to paint it out like you were the bad guy. for not knocking on his apartment door while some bitch was laying on your side of the bed. what a fucking. asshole. this was not how you wanted to spend your Friday evening after work. 
bakugo extended an arm to shut the door, keeping the crisp autumn air from entering his warm apartment any more than it already had. "Breathe through y’r damn mouth before ya stop breathing all together. Why the hell are ya cryin? You almost gave me a damn heart attack!" 
he can't remember the last time you'd cried in front of him, let alone cried to him. you always just kept it together and knew what you were doing. you were so independent, so incredibly smart.. you didn't have time to cry about anything. not that he had known about anyway.
he waddled the few steps to the kitchen as planned, letting you lazily drag your feet between his legs and cling to his torso. he slid his arms under yours to set you atop of the counter, attempting to pull away slowly but you obviously weren't having that. "n/n, drink some water." 
you had been crying so much you felt like you'd throw up soon, it was like you needed a big stuffed animal to hug or someone to just tell you it'll all be okay. katsuki was your big stuffed animal. anytime you did come into any kind of mishap, he would always be the best at comforting you. making sure you've eaten a genuine meal when sick, letting you sleep on his very comfortable bed just to get a little bit of rest and alone time from the outside world, helping you study... you sniffled, knowing he'd give you as long as you needed but deciding to still let him go. you screamed at yourself to stop crying, rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands slowly.
 "Hey. ..drink." you moved a hand away, seeing katsuki hold a bottle a few inches from your face. you took the water from him with a shaky hand and gave it a small sip. you grumble, moving it away from your lips and setting it on the counter to you before his harsh voice spoke up once more.
"I know you aren't dumb, i mean a genuine drink. Not that baby shit." he semi-snatched the bottle up, holding it to your lips once more. he paid you no mind, reaching into the cabinets above you for the hot cheetos he initially wanted. he set the water bottle back down after he knew you had drank a pretty good portion of it, unclipping the chips and leaning against the stove next to you. he watched you shake from your messy breathing, obviously trying to calm down by taking another small drink, holding the bottle to your lips. "What happened. Is it that ugly rat you're with makin you come in here crying??” Here he was, running his mouth again.  you hated that he was right.
you shook your head, wiping your tears once more as they still fell from your eyes. "he didn't even care t..that," you hiccuped, trying to keep your voice steady after another sigh. "he didn't care that I found out.!" you knew you were being a little loud, the voice crack that came afterwards didn’t help. you were so embarrassed, upset, frustrated.. more frustrated than anything other feeling in the world. you continue to explain what happened, “i got off work early, so i stopped by his house so we could get something to eat,” you ramble, looking over to your best friend as you explained walking in on him through angry sobs.
bakugo on the other hand? looked like he had stopped breathing. ruby eyes staring down at your lap before looking you in the eye to remind you he's listening. they had a small twitch to them, a blank expression in the back of his eyes as if in some sort of thought instead.
but you knew that look.. which makes you remember who exactly you're venting to. someone who would kill for you. you knew that, and you'd kill for him. anytime some little boy would mess with you, he was there to fight them off until you were old enough to do it yourself. you knew that guy was an asshole. another reason you didn't want katsuki to see him or hear about him. he always chews you out for dating "lesser than". partially because hes always felt so.. aggravated. that your boyfriends would get so much more time with you than what he did when you were in a relationship, funnily enough. he never placed it to be jealousy, just wanting his friend back. but he was craving it.  he never wanted to seem weird and controlling, his snarky comments were enough to bring you back to your senses.. but all in all, you weren’t his. so what did it matter? you go on and on about needing to ”grow through what you go through”. it's not like you'd listen when he warns anyway.
you shook your head, quieting down to just sniffles and broken whimpers. there was no point in being upset now, It wouldn't change the way your new ex boyfriend thought. or the way that you thought. maybe you just needed to come to terms with it.. that’s what you kept trying to make yourself think anyway. you take a deep breath, kicking your feet out and looking up at the ceiling. "would you mind if I stayed for a few hours? I.. I don't really wanna go home you know..?"  you laugh nervously at your own question, letting your hands smack onto the counter to feel the sting in your palm before looking over at the blond.
he rolled his eyes, letting out a small grumble and wiping a few crumbs off of his shirt. Now wasn’t the time to be pissed. he was trying to mature from semi-blinded rage. It was a time to be there for you. "i guess that means stay the night. I know how you are..” although his tone didn't show it, his sly grin let you know he wouldn't be saying ‘i told you so’ anytime in the near future. good riddance to the bastard anyway. you smiled, watching him calm himself down before helping you off the counter and into the living room. you slide your shoes off at the door, turning to the couch. he had laid the bag of chips on the table to flick through tv channels. after a very short amount of time, he sighed. "Here," he handed you the remote, kicking his feet up onto his coffee table and snatching his chips back up with his clean hand.
you took the remote, sitting slowly and sliding your legs over his lap. you go straight to MAX, your eyes still sore from all the crying. you sniffled, rubbing your eyes some more as you went to your account. you feel him let his hand rest on your knee, rubbing up and down your leg soothingly.
“You want me to order dinner? I haven’t eaten yet..” he watched you switch the television to some common baking show, looking a little annoyed at the host screaming at them through the tv. asifhedoesn’tscreamonthegame
“i don't care, i don't think i can eat anything without getting sick..” you spoke weakly, placing a hand over your stomach. “my whole body is aching right now.." maybe you were hungry? it's hard to tell after feeling so deflated. 
but he knew you needed to eat something. he pulled out his phone, going to doordash and shutting his bag of chips. "We can get Wendy's, McDonald's.. Wherever you want. pizza?" he wasn't one for pizza at the moment, he was kinda sick of it considering that's what kirishima always wanted to eat when they were studying. he was more of a burger and french fries kind of guy at the moment.. but whatever you wanted, he would get it for you. even if it was something small like an ice cream sandwich from the gas station up the street. maybe it'd help you feel better.
"mm.. maybe we can eat wendy's? I like their lemonade and their nuggets." you were trying to get out of the mood you were in, thinking about something small to eat. you shouldn't be giving that guy the time of day, let alone any more tears. "we can drive there, we don't have to doordash. it'll be less expensive that way.." you yawned, sliding your legs off of him slowly.
"All right… ya sure you want to go out? I wouldn't want you to think everybody's staring at ya.. Especially with all this snot-" he teased, pointing to the bleach stains on your shirt that have been there forever. you had originally been in one of your sleep shirts because you were trying to spend the night at your boyfriend's after dinner… ex, boyfriend.
“then i'll just go get one of your shirts.!" you laughed, getting up and walking to his room. You could hear him laughing as you took off your shirt, throwing it into the hamper. You grabbed one of his old t-shirts, putting it on slowly. you sat on the edge of his bed in front of his mirror, staring at yourself. you couldn't believe how red your eyes were.. how disheveled your hair was/felt like it was. It made you feel like you needed to try to look more.. presentable? maybe it'd help you feel better. You tried to fix your hair as much as you could but it slowly started to irritate you, causing you to rub your eyes and grab a black bonnet from “your side” of his apartment. his house had small reminders of you all throughout it from being around so long. you walk back out, sliding on your shoes on. "come on, let's just go."
he rolled his eyes, getting up and turning off the  "If you wanted something to eat you could have just said so when you got here, We didn't have to turn on the TV and all that if we were just going to leave." he put on his shoes, giving you a hard time before resting a hand on your waist. he slid you away from the table, hand lingering a little longer than it needed to but you didn't comment on it. he grabbed his keys, moving to hold the door open for you. 
“I didn't know you were hungry! Shut up!” you laugh, walking out to his cherry red corvette. He spent a lot of time working on and a lot of money to own in general. The feeling of the fall breeze goes right up your spine and to your hair, relieving some tension that rested in the back of your head. a small beep came from the car, unlocking to let you in. it smelled like familiar cologne.. it was comforting. you spoke up once again once he got in, vermillion eyes already staring back at you.
"May as well put your seatbelt onto 'suki, you drive like a mad man..” you roll the window down, letting the air tingle all over your skin as he pulls out of the parking lot.  
“You can’t drive any better, thats why your car is parked and we're in mine.” he responds, pulling into the lot of Wendy's since it had been just up the street. he tried to drive more carefully with you in the car once you said that, noticing how lazy his u-turns were and his carelessness for the yellow light. he grumbled, feeling himself zoning out, fighting with his moral sense of being. You had just gotten out of a breakup, what kind of man would he be to try to hit on someone who's obviously hurting? especially you. It was just too risky to even mention the new feeling. no matter how much better he could make you feel.
The car stopped at the speaker, the faint noise of SZA on the radio being turned down to nothing. still in thought, it takes a gentle hand from you to shake him out of it. “did you hear me ‘suki.? i want a chocolate frosty..” your hand stays on his arm, nails lightly scratching at his soft skin to gain his attention. 
.. you weren't helping. the way you smelled..the lotion you wore causing the car to smell like cocoa butter instead of his Versace. your voice was just something to die for.. the sweetness to your tone, the way you clung onto him whenever you needed something.. it was poison.
he chuckled to himself quietly, staring down at you for a moment before ordering. you look up at him confused, letting it be before being handed all the food. he turned the radio back up before you could even ask, driving back home. 
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It felt unusually quiet between you two. normally you could hear the neighbors blasting music or maybe even their TV whenever katsuki’s wasn't on. but this felt different. It was genuinely quiet in Katsuki Bakugou's home.
“..you want to watch TV or something? ‘m tired of hearing you chew.” you said jokingly, breaking the silence. your eyes look over at him, seeing he had already been looking at you. his lips parted like he was about to ask a question. but instead, he grabbed the remote and turned the TV on.
“You chew louder than I do. You probably listenin’ to yourself." he joked, putting on Netflix to have something in the background. he kicks his shoes off, letting them fall at the end of the couch and near the front door before putting his legs back on his coffee table. he ate in his lap, not caring if he made a mess considering he always cleaned up after himself. he looked over at you, seeing you twirl your spoon around instead of actual eating. “Not to be an asshole, but you look exhausted. Dont let that thing get to you so bad.. if you need to lean on me, you can you know.” 
you looked over at him, laughing breathlessly and looking back at your nuggets. “i think my eyes are just puffy from crying so much.. I don't think its really botherin’ me anymore..” you say softly, leaning onto him slowly anyhow. you pop your last nugget into your mouth as you continue to watch TV. he let his left arm wrap around you tightly, rubbing your shoulder to remind you that you were safe. he didn't want you to think that he thought you couldn't take care of yourself. or that you're vulnerable, or that you're a big baby. he wanted you to know that he was here for you. even though he told you so.
he glanced down at you, seeing you enjoy the show just fine. he knew he was just worried about you at this point. he finished his own food, scarfing it down like a teenager before looking at the TV again. it's not like you two haven't cuddled before, you guys were horny teenagers once and used to think about each other very obviously all the time. he shared his first kiss with you one summer at the movies.. its just that the stars just weren't aligned for anything else to happen. It always seemed like one of you had a boyfriend or a girlfriend in the way to get to who you both really wanted.
“Thanks for letting me spend the night suki, I just don't want to be by myself tonight. I think my apartment is just a little too quiet for me right now.. do you think I should confront him? or should I just act like you never existed. I think I left some of my clothes over there, but other than that- should I do anything..?” you asked as he looks down at you. staring at those beautiful brown eyes and the long lashes. your skin was so smooth, he couldn’t help but admire you.
he definitely had a crush on you again, and he couldn't fix it. he knew it was a crush. he just didn't want to believe it. he never wanted to ruin anything between you two. you guys have only gotten into a handful fights the whole time that you've known each other, never been apart for more than a few weeks. nobody knows him like you do, besides maybe his mom. “Are you stupid? Why the hell would you give him the time of day? I'll go over there and grab your stuff with Kirishima. I don't care to walk into the bastard's house. Just stop thinking about him.” he stated the end matter-of-factly.
you look back at him, looking for malice behind what he had said. was he planning on fighting him or was he serious?  “Are you sure, I don't want to make you do anything you don't want to?” there was a pause shared between you both. the air felt still, almost like no one was breathing. Kirishi
“No, I don't mind." he tried very hard not to lean into you, wanting to be patient with you.. making a move on you would make him low, wouldn’t it? but he could make you feel so much better. especially after everything you've been through. but then he saw you moving up towards him. did you feel what he felt for you?
you knew better than to kiss katsuki, using him as a rebound would be low. you loved him with your entire soul, and yes you've had crushes on him before but that didn't mean he still felt the same way. It had been years since you had ever confessed any kind of romantic feelings to each other. It was a bad idea, but you threw caution to the wind and leaned in for a small kiss as a thank you. 
or you tried, anyway.
everything had moved so quick. he was already getting a grip on your neck, kissing back greedily. But at the same time, he wanted to be gentle with you. he didn't want to break you more than you had already been broken. he knows how bad days can be. you didn't attempt to pull away whatsoever, enjoying his lips against yours. after a minute or so when you two had lost all oxygen, he pulled away from you. “I'm… sorry.? I don't know why I did that?” you look up at him, breathing a bit ragged. 
“Don't be sorry, dumbass. I wanted to kiss you. I’ve wanted to kiss you.” he says with a smirk, leaning closer to you. He smiled as you two looked at each other for a little bit, attempting to catch your breath before going for round two. He pulls you onto his waist with hardly any effort, resting you closer to his belly button than the real deal. He didn't want you to feel how hard he was from your lips alone. 
katsuki always been so pretty to you. of course many people probably thought the same. Clear face, soft blonde hair, those eyes. you knew it was definitely too soon to be rushing anything, but somewhere in your body was almost missing a touch you had never truly had. your hips grind against his abdomen slightly, almost as if trying to hide it. you couldn't tell if it was working because you were too busy feeling him shove his tongue down your throat. 
he gently rubbed your waist, holding it in place after a minute. he pulled away from you slowly, looking down into your pretty brown eyes. “Are you sure that you want to keep going? I don't want you to think I'm some piece of shit trying to take advantage of you.. I really do think you're gorgeous y/n." Which was the truth, he would never want you to think he was some dirtbag. but he's always longed for your touch.. he couldn't help but feel on you. 
you nodded your head yes, kissing down his neck eagerly just to be pulled away again. “I need you to say it for me, that it's okay. Genuinely, y/n.”
you look down at him, sitting up higher so he knew you were serious. “I promise I'm okay, That this is okay.” You kiss his forehead, feeling him pick you up and heading towards his room. He left the living room the way it was, knowing he'd come back to it.. in an hour or two. He turned the corner of his apartment,  opening his door and laying you on his bed gently before beginning to undress himself. You sat up on your elbows, shocked at how quick he was to kiss you. It made you squeal. 
He let his hands rest at your waist, kissing down your neck and down the middle of your shirt. Or, rather, his shirt. He slid it up and off of your body, looking at your eyes just to make sure you didn't have any visible anxiety.  It didn't seem like you did, but he felt his hands start to sweat. He moved his hands to the bed, mumbling something about you looking soft before kissing your chest lightly. Almost as if he couldn't be more gentler with anything else in his life. 
You let out soft moans, hands tangling into his hair as he kissed you all over. As he worshiped you. You could practically feel how much he loved you, and it was weird. It didn't feel like you'd felt this before? Maybe when you were younger? But not anytime recently. It just always felt like he was obligated to be your friend. You'd known each other so long it would be weird to stop being friends.. But this was definitely more than friends. You grin, causing him to scowl up at you.
“I don't wanna hear it.” He mumbled into your skin before kissing near your navel. Could you tell he was nervous? There's no way you could. Could you? He slid his hands behind your back and undo your bra, feeling you sit up in his arms to help him out. 
Letting the bra fall off of your shoulders, you threw it to the side of the bed. Katsuki had no shame in staring, looking like a kid in front of a candy store. He stared up at you, drinking in your soft moans before starting back up near your neck. This time, giving you small hickeys on your collarbone and down your stomach. Anytime you'd squirm or giggle out that it was too much, he'd hold your hips down and make you take it. He wanted you to know how much he loves your body. How much you loved you.
You tried to move your hips once more, fidgeting a bit underneath him. You looked down at his perfecttoyou body, scars from soccer and hockey as a teen and so forth. They were all pretty minor but it's still nonetheless pretty hot. He tugged off your pajamas shorts, hand gripping under your thigh to push your leg to your stomach. He rested your thigh on his muscled shoulder, pushing your legs wider as he grabbed the hem of your underwear.
“Is this okay?” You look up at him and nod quickly, feeling starstruck from all the hickeys he left on you. He slowly takes them off, kissing in between your thighs and slowly opening his eyes just a little bit wider at the sight of all of you. He never imagined what it would look like, He always imagined just being inside of you already. But this? Was beautiful. He kissed on the top of your clit, swirling his tongue against it as he pulled your other leg up. his eyes fluttered at your whines, watching you squirm from his teasing but he just wanted to soak in the way that you looked before doing anything else.
“Are you positive you want this?” He asked, face still soaked from before. It made you giggle, seeing how careful he was with you. Not that you hadn't already noticed, but this was sweet. “I don't have to..” He cleared his throat, nerves obviously still there. “I can just keep eating you out.. Doesn't bother me.” He croaked out, trying to sound like the confident man that he was. But you were really fuckin' him up.
“I'm positive I want you to fuck me, ‘suki..” You breathe out, sitting up as he set your legs off of his shoulders. He stood up slow, trying to hide a smirk as he slid his pajama pants off. He was very obviously turned on, looking a bit uncomfortable a he removed his boxers.
You smile, kissing his happy trail and down to what you really wanted. His cock twitched at your touched, causing him to cover his face and lean into your hand. You slid his length down your throat almost tauntingly, it made his head spin and the only thing he wanted to hold was a fist full of your hair. it made you gag, tugging on his arm as he quickly let go. You pull away, coughing as drool spilled from your lips. 
He snickered at the sight, moving you to lay on your back as he climbed over you. “You're lucky I want this pretty pussy instead..” He moved your legs back to his shoulders, this time to press you in half. He smiled lazily at you, watching how you cried out when he pushed his tip inside of you. He let out a gruttled sigh in relief, bottoming out inside of you.
Your back arched as much as it could into his touch, panting into his ear with jumbled words of ‘more’ and ‘thank you’s. He was a lot bigger than you had assumed, causing your thighs to twitch from how much it was. 
He held your hips, moving your legs closer up his shoulders so he didn't have to hold them for you. He moved back slowly, giving you a few thrusts to get used to the length before moving. “I'll always make you feel better. Not like you need anyone el.. else anyway.” He grumbled out, leaving peppery kisses on your jaw line. You laugh in your head at his words, trying to muffle your moans into his shoulder.
He notices, aimlessly slamming into you. “Nu uh, brat. I wanna hear you, I wanna hear how you take it so good for me,” He leans away from your body, watching your legs shake near his chest as you locked your ankles behind his head. you couldn't stop moaning, whining about him being so far away from you. 
“Just like that. Good girl.. Tell me what you want, baby..” He coaxed, watching your eyes prickle with tears as you ask to cum. “Already?” He chuckles, moving deeper into you. He stared at you in complete awe, rubbing over your clit messily to help you along faster.
“Come on, Make a mess on my damn hand. Tell me how good I'm doing..” He was getting close himself, voice cracking and movements getting sloppier. You whine, body pulling him as close as possible before creaming against his cock. Everything was so sensitive and he was still going. He moved from your clit, bringing the mess on his fingers to your lips.  “Suck.”
you were having a hard time but you did it anyway, managing to bring him to the edge just as quick as you. you could feel heat fill in your stomach, nails scratching at him to grab at what you could as you rode out your highs together. You felt like the room was spinning, feeling him pull out sloppily. He rested your legs back onto the bed, snickering and grabbing the tissue on his bedstand. He left the room a moment, coming back with a rag to wipe you off with.
“S..Sorry, You okay?” He asks, head tilted to the side as he asked with genuine concern. You nod, feeling your body burn as you took the rag and cleaned up.  “You can shower first, I don’t care to wait..” He spoke up again, looking away from you to give you some privacy after previously knocking the mario coins out of you.
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a/n: THIS IS SO OLDDDDAHHHH I'm so glad I'm finally done the idea has been sitting for too long. hopefully I executed it right ik the end probably looks rushed 😔
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NPMD best line deliveries
oh shit! oh fuck!! i didnt think thered be a skele'uhn here ?!? im so fucking scared of skele'uhnz!!!
dont frighten him pokey you nasssssty boy
were going to jail...and with my luck no one will even B O T H E R making me their bitch...
🐦 heyus the thing about a bãrbĕqüe...it brings folks together...from awl wawlks of laife...theyres a storhé behand everyh burrghurr...everyh kehbahhb...
but I...called God a sonofa B word...who am iaieEUGHAHuhuuuh...
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sytoran · 5 months ago
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⁺‧ ₊ ཐི⋆ ♱ ❝GUILTY AS SIN?❞ ♱ w. maximoff !
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pairing ★ older!nun!wanda x masc!fem!reverend!reader
synopsis ★ (based on this ask) a 1950s church au, set somewhere loosely in europe, in which a reverend and a nun serving at a cathedral harbour forbidden feelings for each other, where love intertwines with religion in a sacred romance.
warnings ★ explicit content (minors dni), pwp, reader has a cock, virgin!reader but not for long ;), you have a thing for older women, wanda is a tease, no daddy/mommy kink (sorry, it didn't really fit for wanda), but something else fit inside wanda (wink wink)
word count ★ 3.6k (serving) | main m.list
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“The Lord be with you.”
“And with your spirit.”
Wanda stands for the final blessing, eyes shut in devout faithfulness. As the choral voices utter the hauntingly beautiful concluding hymn, she exhales softly, letting the singing resound around each panel of glass in the tall cathedral.
Harmonic minor chords echo from the organ, as the acolytes walk down the aisle. Voices rise in harmony. Little altar boys trip over their feet. The older wardens are grim with wrinkles set into aged skin.
And then there is you.
Illuminated by the tinted light is your set face, cloaked in your black vestments and as regal as ever. Wanda watches under her white veil, poised hands and craned neck. 
Wanda was not oblivious that her want for you was forbidden. A deep sin, for the two of you were devout servers of the church. It went against everything she had been taught since she was a first year at Westview Catholic High, but then again, you were the fount of her desires, and it was as simple as that.
As you walk past her solemnly, Wanda catches your eye. She can see you stiffen under her stare ablaze, swallowing a lump in the back of your throat, and victory glints in Wanda’s lowered gaze.
She had to be patient.
Once the mass proceedings were over, you stood outside the cathedral, all gentle smiles and warm hands. It was no secret that you were a crowd favourite amongst the pent-up housewives of Westview and repressed nuns of the church.
How could they not, after all, with the way your dark garments hugged your stately figure, broad and wide and lined with unspoken strength. You were polite, and respectful, and far too innocent for your own good. 
Wanda stands by the entrance of the church, watching you get swarmed by the ladies like a high school heartthrob. 
It was okay, she was content with waiting.
“Reverend L/N,” A middle-aged lady calls, clutching onto your forearm. You smile kindly at her, recognising Pepper, the suburban mom down at 5th and Street. “Yes, Miss Potts, how was today’s service?”
“Absolutely splendid,” She gushes shamelessly, clasping your hands and stepping in far too close. “Your gospel was so moving.”
The overt affection is cloying to Wanda’s senses, only heightened by her distaste for Pepper’s dress. There was simply no reason why her Beatnik dress had to be so low-cut.
Your other arm is not safe from the clutches of Sister Agatha. She was the most experienced of the nuns and had basically claimed her stake on you since you were assigned to the church. Suddenly, hands caress the dip of your tricep to your bicep.
“Excuse me, Miss Potts,” Agatha says snidely. “Reverend L/N has to get back to her duties, if you’ll allow us.” You swallow at the way her perfume scent overtakes your senses, only magnifying the heat under your robes. 
The mom is evidently put off by this, along with the other ladies of the church, some with babies on their hips and without their husbands.
You, on the other hand, stand awkwardly amongst the crowd of ladies, their eyes feasting upon you like a predator eagle.
Even then, Wanda could see the effect that it had on you, ever the innocent and inexperienced. With a pair of ample assets pressed up against your muscled forearm, and a feminine hand wrapped around your bicep, there was no hiding the flush in your face and the telltale tent in your robes.
“I- I have to go,” you say suddenly. You retract your arms, as if scorned, worry clouding your expression. You make your way through the crowd of women, embarrassed and ashamed, leaving many disappointed women in your wake.
A smile crawls up Wanda’s face as she watches you attempt to retreat back into your office. 
She ducks behind the wall of the corridor. As your hurried footsteps approach, Wanda steps out, as if walking in the opposite direction from you. 
“Oof!” The two of you collide comically (intentionally), as Wanda’s hands fly to your arms for support. She dramatically falls forward into your wide embrace, unnecessarily clumsy — but you don’t know any better, profusely apologising to Wanda.
“Sister Wanda!” You say breathlessly, gripping onto her hips unconsciously, unbeknownst to the effect it had on the older woman. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea you were just around the corner. Why, I seem to be out of sorts as of late.”
Wanda is more than content to run her gloved hands up your arms, shaking her head dutifully.
“I was looking for you, actually,” she says with a kind smile, noting the way your throat bobs as you hold her by her slim waist, entirely transfixed.
Sister Wanda was beautiful like the night, pale moonlight and soft silk. Dainty fingertips clutch the rosary beads, and you yearned to lift up her white veil to see the ethereality that lay beneath. 
It seemed like an eternity before you snapped out of your trance, stepping back and coughing into your hand. 
Wanda would think you were a fool if you believed she couldn’t see the issue in your pants, filling up quite a lot more space than it normally did. It excited Wanda to no end, as the fabric covering your body shifted across your planes of muscles as you moved back.
“Yes, I- uhm,” you clear your throat distractedly. “What queries did you have, again?”
“Ah,” Wanda says easily, tilting her head in amusement at your innocence. “Regarding mass, of course.”
Your brows furrow, terribly hiding your visible disappointment. Wanda could almost giggle at your dejectedness. It was no matter, that issue of yours would be remedied soon.
“I was wondering if I could visit your office tonight?” Wanda asks innocently.  “I’ve been having these… thoughts, and I would like to share them with someone I trust.”
“Someone you trust,” you echo, folding your arms and feeling your heart rate pick up exponentially at the sentiment that Sister Wanda trusted you. “Of course, Sister. As a preacher and a friend, I would gladly aid you in any troubles.”
“Any?” Wanda asks, and you swear you see a twinkling sparkle of mischief behind that white veil. “I guess only time will tell. Until then, Reverend, goodbye.”
Sister Wanda disappears down the lane of grey concrete, losing you in the corner wall of red brick, leaving you with a lot more to comprehend than just your hummingbird-esque thrumming heart.
⁺‧₊˚ ཐི ⋆ ♱ ⋆ ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺
Ten o’clock strikes the clock tower at the Town Square, a dull and permeating sound that resurfaces you from your listless floating.
You hadn’t been able to focus on anything all day after your interaction with Wanda. Anticipation ate you up from the inside out, affecting the quality of your sermons, although your crowd of admirers never weaned.
There was only one woman you cared for, though.
“Reverend L/N?” A sweet voice asks from beyond the shut door, and you shoot up with vigour that could rival Elvis performing Hound Dog. (You’d seen a clip of it on the television the other day — that young man was a star in the making.)
When you finally manage to fumble open the door handle, all the breath gets stolen from your weeping heart, and you may as well be laying in your casket because it looks like it’s your funeral.
To your utter demise and beseeching joy, Wanda Maximoff stands before you looking like a Renaissance painting handcrafted by Michaelangelo himself. What with her white veil removed to expose the delicacy of her beautiful face you long to caress, and her hair let down to fall in soft curls, and a smile playing on her glossy lips — you’re gone, already, before she even steps inside.
Wanda lets herself in, brushes past you and leaves you dazed in her wake. 
“So, shall we begin with an opening prayer?”
Regretfully, you’re unable to devote your entire concentration upon the given task. You’d say you weren’t totally at fault, though — Wanda looked different today, a good kind of different, one that made you feel lighter than you ever had.
“Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil,” Wanda recites, hands clasped as she looks down. “Amen,” you close off, placing your beaded rosary back into your drawer. 
You look up to see the older woman regarding you with an unreadable expression, the reflection from your dim ceiling light flickering in her viridescent eyes. It lights a fire within you, a desire for something you can’t quite place.
The ticking of your Peter table-clock seems too loud, all of a sudden, and Wanda’s gaze overwhelms your very sentience. You get a premonition, somewhere in the back of your mind, that this scene is going to unfold in a way you wouldn’t be prepared for.
“It’s rather warm in here, isn’t it?” Wanda voices abruptly, breaking the tense silence that had settled above the two of you.
You shoot up too quickly, banging your knee on your desk, then clearing your throat. “Well, it is nearing summer, Sister,” you answer with a strained voice. You can feel Wanda’s eyes on you as you pace the room to switch on the ceiling fan.
When you turn back around after fumbling with the power switch, your jaw slackens at the sight of Wanda. Oh. 
She’s undressing before your very eyes, mumbling something about the irritatingly warm weather your brain doesn’t even begin to process, because you could swear up and down you’d never seen such beauty before.
“Well, I should get into it before the night drags on,” Wanda speaks, her voice a thousand miles away. Hopeless devotion swirls in your wandering gaze, focusing upon the silk black negligee that is revealed from under her robes — you don’t stop to think about the practicality of such clothing, foolish as you are — and the matching black high-rise stockings of hers do you in.
“Reverend L/N?” Sister Wanda asks, snapping you out of your fantastical trance, sending a sharp jolt to your growing member. A toying smile plays on her lips, one you don’t notice out of sheer embarrassment, her tone husking with a velvet lilt.
“Y-yes, Sister,” you say, sitting back down firmly in your seat and wishing you could scare your growing shaft into mellowing down, because you were certain you were already staining your undergarments. “Excuse my, uh, carelessness. Please, continue.”
“I’ve been having these…… thoughts, as of late,” Wanda begins, sitting forward, unhelpfully pronouncing her cleavage. “Sleepless nights, dreams in the morning. Fantasy, but not quite. Yearning would be a more apt description, wouldn’t it, for something that you crave so dearly when you know it’s impossible to attain.”
You’re lost, a little hazy between the lines, caught somewhere between comprehending Wanda’s speech and staring wide-eyed at her chest. 
“What do you mean?” you ask, suddenly breathless, choking under your stifling garments and feeling unbearably warm in the heat of your enclosed office.
Your big hands flex and release, toying with something, anything, to distract you, and the older nun is prone to gazing hungrily. 
“Sex,” Wanda finally states unabashedly, and you choke on stilled air and the scent of old books. 
Sex.
“S-sex?” You ask, heat rushing to your ears, praying that you’d misheard or something of the sort, but at the same time more alive than you’d ever been.
“Yes, Reverend L/N, sex. It’s dirty, and raw, and everything we’ve been taught not to pay heed to,” Wanda begins in a breathless rush of eagerness, and you’re swept along in her unstoppable hurricane, on the brink of something inexplicable.
“But oh, it feels so good, and I crave it more than anything. More than life itself, if that’s even possible, because this desire is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. And, mark my language and bless the Lord above, but Christ — I’ve never yearned for this object of my desires so deeply and intrinsically. Someone, to be specific.”
You listen with a distant look in your eyes, your brainwaves fusing somewhere between “dirty” and “raw”. Still, your heart lurches at the prospect of another competitor for your forbidden love.
“Someone?” you ask, leaning back into your armchair and folding your arms. Your faux composure juxtaposes your thundering heart, as you die in anticipation and perhaps something dirtier.
“Yes,” Wanda simply states. She tilts her head, furrows her brows as if contemplating something. Then she nods, self-assuredly, and before you can get another word out, the older nun seals your fate.
“That someone is you.”
You’d always been a believer, but in that moment your heart transcends the physical boundaries of life before death, and you ascend to heaven and see the pearly gates, before Lucifer strikes you down to an undeniable reality.
“You think of me…… indecently?” You ask, almost a whisper, as if fearful of waiting ears on this cathedral’s dead night.
“Once again, yes. Call me presumptuous, but I believe your rock-solid erection is telling of the mutual lust we share, Reverend.”
You splutter, just now realising your uncooperative dick is nearly at full-mast. 
“But,” you try, licking your lips in an anxious motion that has the older nun intently more aroused. “I’m— I’m not too experienced in that prospect, Sister. Not that I’m declining your request, definitely not, I— I simply fear I’m no good at satiating your needs.”
“You could never disappoint me,” Wanda responds in a sweet tone, and your heart explodes in some unexplored liking for older women’s approval. 
Wanda stands up, and your gaze follows your esteemed temptress. “Besides,” she adds, her voice carrying a lightness you’d never heard before. “Experimenting is half the fun, isn’t it?”
It feels as though no time passes before Wanda is standing before you, a light hand tilting your head up as you become still in your seat, her right thumb tracing the curve of your jaw.
“Well, Sister, I suppose you’re right as always,” you answer breathlessly, a hand going to cup the smooth curve of her waist. 
Each breath feels like rarest air as your eyes flutter shut, waiting patiently for the slow dip of Wanda’s head, as she brings you into a fated, ceremonial sealing of warm lips.
Wanda moves in a controlled manner at first, clearly more experienced than you, methodically moving her lips in a rocking motion as you find your pace.
Gradually, as a simple kiss grows lacking in the face of your burning passion and Wanda’s tentativeness fades away, you deepen the kiss, slanting your mouth against the nun’s, almost like you’d done it a thousand times, like it was meant to be.
Two pairs of lips move in haunting remembrance, cascading like the ebb and flow of a wave, the tide that washes over you in saintly baptism, cloaking you with the gentleness of an angel’s wings.
“Oh,” Wanda murmurs against your lips, a tiny gasp slipping from her mouth as your hands eagerly slide over the curve of her ass, devotional, wanting.
She straddles your waist, comfortably sat in your lap. It takes Herculean self-restraint for you to not to moan at the expanse of soft skin pressed against your robes. 
“You’re certainly eager, aren’t you,” Wanda quips with a satisfied sigh, hands running up and over your arms and torso, certainly soaking in the new closeness that propriety once prevented.
“I am,” you utter dazedly, hands desperately palming at every inch of Wanda you can find, trying to memorise every curve and blemish. This moment, right here, was a sacred happening you’d only fantasised on the dirtiest nights, in some hopeless damnation of your unrequited love.
Requited indeed it was, and you’d never been more receptive to being proved wrong, as Wanda leisurely grinds on the bulge in your robes, controlling your pleasure like the puppeteer of a marionette. 
“Too many clothes,” she groans, as you helplessly begin bucking your hips into the rocking motions of her hips. Your acquiescence comes in the form of the frantic removal of your robes, Wanda nearly ripping off your pants underneath. It leaves you feeling awfully exposed in a tight-fitting white tee and grey boyshorts.
Uneven exhales resound in the space between the two of you, 
“Don’t look at me like that,” you whisper, embarrassment tainting the tips of your ears and a flush that races down your neck. 
“How could I not, my sweet,” Wanda answers in a sweet murmur, delicate lips trailing down the column of your neck as she shifts on your lap. “You’re perfect.”
Your eyes flutter shut as Wanda’s hand slips down the band of your boyshorts, pulling out your cock as it springs out of its confinement. It’s big, you know it is, and you watch in anticipation as Wanda’s eyes darken several shades.
“It’s alright?” You ask, albeit tentatively, gripping the base of your cock to stop yourself from climaxing right then and there. “I’ve never— you know.”
“More than alright, darling,” Wanda murmurs with crescented eyelids, tracing the winding vein on the left side, fingertips rubbing at your tip in some sort of wonderment.
The sheer size difference of her pale hand and your thick cock changes your brain on a chemical level, and you think that this is going to be embarrassingly quick.
“Wanda,” you pant into the open air, your voice hoarse and your gaze hungry. Her hand furiously jackhammers up and down the length of your thick shaft, from base to tip, spraying droplets of pre-cum all over the both of you.
You let out an almost-whine as you throw your head back, chasing that warm heat that’d only ever been a part of your most sinful dreams. Wanda must be an expert at this, you think, as her thumb rubs your sensitive tip with each hard thrust of her hand.
“I’m gonna— fuck, oh God,” you gasp, and Wanda quietens you by pulling you into a messy kiss. Tongues envelop one another, and it’s sloppy, and wet, but pleasure is coursing through your bloodstream, ferocious devotion in an excruciatingly fast hurdle to a preordained climax.
“Wanda, you have to stop, or I’m gonna—”
“Isn’t that the whole point, darling? Do it inside.”
Wanda lifts her hips, revealing her wet heat to your starry gaze. It looks like some delicate flower you’d find in a faraway field, except it was something you craved to feel, and suddenly the desire in your stomach is unbearable and you move with frantic urgency.
You groan as your tip brushes against her velvet wetness, finally, collecting trails of slick to make it even more damp than it was prior. Wanda sinks downward with a shaky exhale, and the soft heat that envelops your shaft is the holiest shrine you’d ever chanced upon.
“Wanda,” you say, swallowing, big hands moving to grip at her hips, slowly opening her up with each inch. 
Eventually, the slow pace drives you to the edge of insanity, and you begin your freefall with an abrupt change of heart. All too soon, the atmosphere surrounding the two of you becomes hot, rough, dirty — just like how Wanda explained it, fulfilling the filthiest fantasies of two wandering minds.
“Y/N!” Wanda calls out, panting, locks of hair falling out of place as you roughly manhandle her hips up and down your thick length.
Her delightful moans are heaven to your ears, as your fingers dig into plush skin, a sweetness naught would remove from your reach.
"I'm close," she whines into your ear, the fabric of her negligee clinging to flushed skin, your boyshorts all damp with your bodily fluids.
She slides down and up at a lightning-fast pace, both of you desperately chasing down each other's pleasure. Her pussy constricts your thick shaft in a tight hold, and your hands are none the better, palming at her ass.
"Oh, God," the older nun whines, when you increase the pace in a last-ditch attempt, the sound of bare skin meeting enveloping the room in a heady, aroused mess.
Your eyes find the crucifix across the room just before you tip over that edge one would view in reverence, hurtling downwards like Lucifer with his tainted lips, calling out Wanda's name in a breathless cry—
And there is devotion in your shared sin, breathless cries spilling from tainted lips, where grace is found in a mismatched harmony, and two sinners turn away from repentance.
"Oh!" Wanda cries out, thighs wrapping around your torso, head thrown back in a picture of evangelical reverence.
You think Wanda is the only altar you’d ever need, prayerless faithfulness in devout worship, a lowly pilgrim knelt before a holy shrine. “Fuck,” you breathe, as Wanda collapses above you, soft pants gradually becoming steady again.
“I knew you’d be perfect,” Sister Wanda — no, just Wanda — whispers, still straddling your lap with her palms pressed to the sides of your face in a gentle cradle. “Thank the heavens I found you.”
“What happens next?” You ask. There is a tremble in your voice, a fear of the unknown. There were prying eyes of religious watchers, where critical judgement of the queer community was prevalent in this time, where bravery did not always triumph over prejudice.
“What happens to us?”
Wanda’s lips brush against your forehead, her gentleness lulling you into utopia. “Only God knows, my love,” she whispers back.
It is then that you realise it didn’t matter, anyways, wherever you’d end up, as long as it was with your sacred, sanctimonial love.
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so... how was that in all of its religious and horny imagery?? haven't written for wanda in forever omg. can yall spot the ttpd lyrics lol (side note: ttpd has some of the most profound lyrics i’ve ever heard, i can only aspire to achieve that level of literary greatness.) reblog please literally getting down on my knees atp main m.list
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nanaslutt · 1 year ago
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so i just read like… ALL your gojo stuff.
now imagine… gojo not being able to hold back and wanting to breed you after you both try those aphrodisiac chocolates… ahem…
i am absolutely terrified of getting pregnant yet have the words most insufferable breeding kink, we exist
Contains: fem reader, aphrodisiacs, masturbation, no prep, spanking, rough sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, multiple orgasms, SOOO much dirty talk, praise, so much cum.., whiped!gojo, established relationship
MDNI
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Gojo was talking soooo much shit when you sent him a link to some aphrodisiac chocolates you saw online. He would not stop dismissing that they didn’t actually work; saying none of that shit that advertised any kind of enhancement in sexual arousal ever did.
So of course you had to order the chocolates and really test it for yourselves, making a challenge out of it.
If the chocolates truly had an effect, gojo would do whatever you wanted, and if they didn’t? vice versa. Gojo was game, of course; because he didn’t think anything would happen.
“Bleh- they taste like shit too,” Satoru grimaced, chasing the horrible flavor with a strawberry soda.
“That’s probably because there’s something in them satoru…like the aphrodisiac…,” you shook you head, swallowing the bitter chocolate.
“Orrrr; crazy thought; it’s just some cheap chocolate marketed as aphrodisiacs to make a ton of money off of people like us.” he drawled, throwing his hands up in the air and waving them around when he spoke.
“I really thought you out of all people would find this kind of thing fun satoru.” you said, trying to push his buttons a bit.
“We’ll of course, chocolate and sex? I’m all over that,” he said making you laugh, “but me and suguru tried something like this for fun back in our student days, it was some kind of pill though,” his face twisted in discomfort as he spoke, “just ended up making us super sick tho, yaga got pissed, heh” he laughed, remembering the memory.
“Knowing you two it was probably some cheap boner pill you got in a sketchy bag at the convenience store.. so that might explain it.” you snorted,
He rubbed his big hand over the back of his neck, “yeah, there was like 5 other pills in the bag with it now that I think about it..” he said quietly, making you hunch over in a laugh.
The two of you went about your evening like normal, watching some comedy movie that was on and cuddling together on the sofa. When it ended you went off to change into something more comfortable as you started off to finished the laundry.
You haven’t felt anything extremely out of the ordinary yet; remembering that the package said it might take long for women to feel the affects; but gojo on the other hand was feeling mildly uncomfortable.
His face and neck were feeling warm, throughout the entire movie his big hand was placed on your upper thigh, like always. What was unusual though, was how his skin tingled when he placed it on yours, palms sweating more than usual; he just chalked it up to all the junk he had been eating throughout the day, probably upsetting his body.
When you moved back into the kitchen and started on the dishes the two of you had created in the sink, Gojo couldn’t help but hyper focus on the fat off your ass peeking out of your night shorts.
The way you moved your hips as some r&b music played quietly from the tv. He watched your muscles and tendons move together when you twisted your body around, watching your ankles cross; one behind the other; getting comfortable from where you stood.
Satoru was feeling hot all over now, a large hand coming down to grope himself over his pants when you bent over to put the dishes into the washer, poking out your clothed mound towards him, the fabric of your shorts squeezing your curves just right.
His jaw dropped slightly, breathing heavier as he got off on watching you do such a mundane task like the dishes.
You inserted the pod into the dishwasher, completely oblivious to satoru’s shenanigans as you stood up straight. You noticed when washing your hands that you were starting to feel a warmth washing over your body, and a sort of warm coil tightening in your tummy.
The lightbulb went off in your head when you realized it was probably the work of the chocolates. You quickly shut off the water, towel is hand as you whipped your head behind you to tell gojo what was happening to you; and to inform him that you were going to win this challenge.
Your motions were stopped short as you bumped straight into gojos chest, “Oh! Didn’t realize you were-“ Your words getting cut off when gojo grabbed the bottom of your face, bringing your lips to his, and kissing you hungrily.
Gojo used his other had to slide his arm around your body, pressing you hard into him, letting you feel his erection against your tummy.
He pushed his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your words that tried to excape, “Sa-mm- Satoru-“ you got out between kisses. Gojo shoved his knee between your legs, putting delicious pressure on your cunt as he kissed you like it was his last day on earth.
You had to grip his hair and pull his face off of you to speak, this didn’t really phase him as he targeted your neck instead, biting and sucking on the skin there, “Fuck- s-satoru slow down-“ you moaned when he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot.
“Cant, need you-“ he spoke in between his rushed love bites on your neck, moving his big hands to hold your hips as he made you rock your cunt back and forth along this thigh.
Your head was spinning a mild a minute, still trying to wrap your head around the current situation. You expected this to happen; being on the side of ‘pro aphrodisiacs and all; you just didn’t expect it to happen so soon, and for it to have such a strong effect on someone like Satoru.
“S-shit- those chocolates have you m-more worked up than me,” you tried to laugh, voice cut short by a moan when his knee nudged your clit at a particularly mouthwatering angle.
“Need to be inside you,” he ignored you, groaning against your pulse point, hot breath tickling your neck when he spoke.
Gojo was breathing so heavily, his cock feeling like it was about to rip a hole in his pants at how hard he was. “Take em off, now-“ he whimpered, referring to your bottoms as he started pulling them down your legs, panties following suit.
You helped him, gripping his hair and keeping his lips pressed against your neck while you kicked off your shorts off from around your ankles . His hands dropped down to remove his own sweats, too impatient to fully take them off as he pulled them down just enough for his cock to spring out, jerking himself off with one hand rapidly between you; hand holding your hip with his other.
“Let me put it in, please, need to be inside you now-“ he groaned, finally pulling back from your neck; and he looked absolutely wrecked.
This whole situation was giving you whiplash, but you felt bad for him. Satoru’s hands were shaking, face flushed completely crimson, and he was sweating and panting like he just ran a marathon.
He continued stroking his cock, eyes flirting between your pussy and your pretty lips while he waited for them to move, voicing your consent.
His cock was dripping so much pre it looked like he already came. Hard cock still dripping steadily onto his hand and fingers, making his strokes emit loud ‘plp’ sounds into the air.
“Yes, please, give it to me toru,” you spoke, making him let out a moan of satisfaction. You wrapped your arms around his neck when he lifted you suddenly, burring your hands in his hair and face in his neck as he slid his dick into you with zero prep, all at once.
You were greatful the aphrodisiac was in affect, making you so much wetter than normal, and in turn, making the stretch a whole less painful then it would’ve been without it.
You whined at how his massive clock split you in half effortlessly, “Sorry baby- m’ sorry-“ he apologized with a groan against your bruised neck; whatever consciousness he still had left being aware that that might’ve hurt you.
“Shit it’s o-okay toru, just give it to me- fuck-“ You tipped your head back, jaw dropping and releasing a loud whine, giving him more access to mark up your neck while he fucked into you like a mad man; legs dangling over his arms as he held you in his strong grasp, hoisting you up and down on his cock like you weighed nothing to him.
“Holy fuckkk” he whined, vibrations going through your skin, “Need to fill you up, need to fuck you full of my cum s-shit-“ Gojo was working himself up with his words, already on the brink of his orgasm only a couple thrusts in.
He was truly using you like a cocksleve as he fucked into you at an inhumane pace, heavy balls slapping against your ass, strings of your combined wetness connecting to your ass each time he thrusted inside.
He sucked harder against your skin as he felt his first high rapidly approach him. His eyes repeatedly rolling back in his skull at the rhythmic pulsing of your pussy around him.
“Shitshitshit- gonna c-cum, need you to take it all f’me” his deep voice reverberated through you, all you could do is cry and moan our strings of his name and “yesyesyes” while he fucked his first load of the night into you.
“T-take it f-fucking take it yessss” Gojo felt like he was on cloud nine, he had never felt anything like this before. Of course he loved cumming inside you when you had sex but this was different. Every neuron in his brain was telling him to fuck load after load into you; to get you pregnant.
Gojo didn’t actually want kids right now, and you were on the pill so the possibility of him actually knocking you up was low- but not if his aphrodisiac brain had anything to say about it; he would make sure to fucking try.
Ignoring the overstimulation he felt as he humped his cum into you with heavy thrusts, quickly picking up his speed again when he finished spurting the warm ropes of cum into you, making you squeal at his quick recovery.
“Pussy feels so fucking good, so fucking wet sh-itttt” he groaned, dick twitching and abs clenching as he fucked himself through the aftershocks of his orgasm, sending him straight twords another one.
“T-toru o-oh my god-“ you wimpered, body flopping around limply at the intense pleasure. His cock was drilling straight into your sweet spot and making you dizzy. You tried not to pass out as he manhandled your body, gripping you roughly and marking up your skin everywhere his insatiable lips could reach.
“Gonna knock you up baby- g-gunna give you my babies- get you fucking pregnant, yeah? you want that?” you cut off his filthy mouth by using the grip you had on his head to press his mouth against yours.
“Yesyesyes, give me your babies toru- gonna make you a daddy-“ he groaned into your mouth at your mutual need for him to fill you up.
Gojo felt drunk hearing the nickname bounce around inside his head. Gojo never thought he had a daddy kink, but in this scenario? The nickname had him feeling like he was about to come again already.
By this point, the aphrodisiac was affecting you just as much as it was him, everywhere his body touched yours felt like your skin was on fire. You tried not to lose your sanity as he was pushing your towards your first orgasm without so much as even grazing your clit.
He set you down on the ground and in one swift movement spun you around so you were facing the counter. Satoru used his massive had to grab hold of his cock, slipping it back into your drenched walls.
You both groaned in unison at the sensation. Gojo gave you both a couple seconds to relish in the feeling, pressing his balls hard against your ass before he picked up his same ruthless pace as before.
“Good fucking girl- gonna look so fucking pretty with ur belly all round with my baby shiiit” he groaned when he felt your cunt clench around him at the idea.
He brought his massive palm down feeling your cunt squeeze him, leaving a heavy spank against your ass and gripping the fat between his fingers.
“Pussy tryna fuckin’ milk me down here” he laughed, biting his lip when he watched your hand come down to rub your clit in quick circles, “Yeaahhh fucking touch your pussy for me baby, make urself cum all over my dick while i fill you up.” he instructed, clenching his jaw.
“Shit- g-give it to me daddy- cum inside me-” you mindlessly babbled, there you go again with that fucking nickname that had his balls tightening.
You feet the coil wind itself up quicker than normal at your enhanced sexual arousal from the chocolate and the now added stimulation of touching your neglected clit.
“Come with me baby, gotta feel you cum around me- please” he begged, leaving another loud slap against your ass before pulling you back on his dick roughly by your hips.
“S -shit it’s coming it’s coming i’m- fuckfuck- ngghhh” your warned, voice cutting out as you started to come around his girth while he fucked you through it.
“yeeeeeess baby- fuuuuck- milk my fucking cock fuck-“ he watched intently as your little hole clenched around him, his first load spurting out around his cock with the pressure of your orgasm, making the white ring around the base of his dick get even messier.
“I’m coming again baby- take it for me- need you to take it all, gotta make sure it t-takes” he whined, getting you pregnant still on the forfront of his brain.
Your legs would’ve collapsed on the floor if he wasn’t holding up a majority of your weight by your hips. Your nails slid against the marble as his cock rammed against your cervix, making you dizzy, broken moans getting forced out of your mouth at the feeling of getting repeatedly impaled on his cock.
You tried to gain a little bit of brainpower back to help gojo through his orgasm just like he did for you, “y-e-sss toru’ cum inside me please- i’ll take it all- be a good girl for you-“ your voice squeaked out, words getting louder at the end with how rough his thrusts were,
He leaned over your back, pressing his sweaty chest onto you while he wrapped you in a tight bear hug, not ceasing his ruthless hips, “Need you t-to kiss me baby- go-nna be instense” he whimpered against your shoulder, waiting for you to turn your head twords him to give him access to your mouth.
When you did he wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours. The two of you swallowed each others moans as his pitch got higher and higher; his tight grip was sure to leave dark bruises on your body as he held onto you for dear life at his impending orgasm.
When the coil finally snapped, he shook violently against you, hips stilling against your ass, pressing his hips as deep as he could into you while hot ropes of cum filled you up even more than his last load, making more cum spill out around him at how full you already were.
His breath was hitching into your mouth, lips doing their best to kiss you back as his jaw kept falling open as the waves of his high washed over him.
He whined and dropped his head against your shoulder when he started to come down. Gojo panted heavily against your skin, twitching in the aftershocks of his high.
“D-don’t move please” he requested, fucking his softening cock into you a couple more times to make sure his cum was as deep inside you as it could go.
“Fuck toru- feel so full right now..” you wined into the marble, wincing in overstimulation at his final few weak thrusts.
After a couple seconds he finally pulled out his cock, gulping hard as he watched his cum start to dribble out of you; making you whine at the slightly uncomfortable feeling.
He used a couple fingers to spread your pussy lips; admiring his work for a second before he used to fingers to scoop his cum back up, stuffing his thick digits back inside of you, “Gotta get that plug of yours to keep it all in,” he said, biting his lip at how soft you felt around his fingers.
“Or you could let me cockwarm you,” you giggled, turning your head back to look at him while he looked enthralled with your cunt.
“God I love you, smartest fucking girl I know.” he praised.
You fell into a fit of giggles when he scooped you up in his arms, peppering kisses onto your face while he headed twords your shared bedroom.
You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist while he walked, keeping them snug even when he dropped the two of you on the mattress together. Gojo’s large frame laying on top of you as he reached his hand down between you to slide his semi-hard cock back into your oversensitive walls, making you hiss at the feeling, “Sorry baby- almost in,” he promised, kissing your cheeks while he fully bottomed out.
He rolled his eyes at how warm and soft you felt around his dick, sucking soft hickeys into the crook of your neck while you pet his damp hair.
“I’ll clean you up in a second my love, promise, you just feel too good right now.” he let out a short laugh against you.
“‘S okay toru, makes me feel good too.” you tipped your head forward and pressed kisses onto the top of his scalp.
“We gotta be careful with those chocolates,” he laughed, “Might acctually knock you up one day if we keep eatin those,”
“That doesn’t sound half bad,” you confessed, squeezing your legs harder around his hips.
“Dangerous words to say right now pretty girl,” he warned, smirking into your skin,
“Oh right, guess you won the bet,” he remembered, “Whacha want ur big strong boyfriend to do for you?” he asked teasingly,
“Cum inside me again, right now,” you requested after a beat, emphasizing your need by squeezing your pussy walls around him, making him inhale a sharp breath between his teeth.
“Fuck… you serious?” he smirked, lifting his head to look at you.
“Don’t keep me waiting, give me my prize toru,” you pouted your bottom lip at him, making his brain short circuit as he felt his cock twitch back to life.
You ended up taking a plan B the next morning… just in case…
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chinchilla-clown · 7 months ago
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hi dca fandom i make an offering after lurking for years what if one-sided crush but its not dca thats crushing hard
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