#also that? the fact you can look at almost everything in the room and get dialogue/lore/a whole 20 level spanning mini game out of it? Great
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mattsnight · 3 days ago
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Hide it - Matt Sturniolo
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Summary: in which Matt hides his feelings for you, but eventually can’t take it anymore.
Warnings: fluff, cursing,
A/N:
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Matt couldn’t hide it any longer. He couldn’t hide his love for you. His feelings were hard to control when you were around. It was sickening. He didn’t say anything about it, because he didn’t want to hurt you or ruin the friendship you guys have. It was too important for, but he also couldn’t stuff his feelings away any longer. He was in love with you and that was a problem.
Every time you hang out with Nick Matt’s in the room. He’s always staring at you, but when you turn to look at him he quickly turns away. You didn’t think much of it, until things changed. Matt started acting weird. He was always stuttering around you and didn’t have proper conversations with you.
You had come to the triplets’ house to make some pictures with Nick. The house was mostly quiet, only soft sounds were heard from Matt’s room. He was most likely playing fortnight. You sat down on the couch, waiting for Nick to return from his room.
“Oh hey y/n..” you suddenly hear a voice say. You look at the figure, it’s Matt. A small smile forms on your face as you wave at him. He freezes at your smile, regretting his decision of coming out of his room. He was already getting nervous at the fact of his crush being infront of him. Suddenly a wave of confidence washes over him. It was now or never. “Y/N i can’t do this anymore.” He says, swallowing.
“Can’t do what?” You ask, looking at him in confusion.
“I-“ he runs his hand through his hair. There’s a moment of silence. He doesn’t know what to say. He can’t just say ‘hey im in love with you! Can we make out?’ can he? Another deep breath leaves his mouth as he tries to get himself together. “Fucking hell..” He holds his breath as he looks into your eyes to see any kind of reaction. “Can’t you see how obsessed i am with you?” A surprised sound leaves your mouth. You don’t say anything for a while, surprised by his confession.
“Jesus Y/N, say something please.” He begs. His nervousness gets worse within seconds. Did you hate him now? “I- you like me?” You ask. Realization hits you hard. He actually likes you. Your mind goes blank at the thought, all your thoughts vanishing. He slides both his hands into his pockets, hiding how badly he’s sweating.
“Yes Y/N and im tired of you not noticing! I tried everything to make you look at me, yet it’s not working.” He groans mentally, blaming himself for raising his voice at you. “Sorry… i-“ he starts, but gets cut off when you slam your lips against his. This kiss was everything he needed. Everything he needed to know you had the same feeling about him and it was amazing. It wasn’t passionate, just full of love and desperation.
Your hands slide into his hair, gently pulling at it to get closer. His hands go down your sides, gripping you tightly. You slowly start backing up into a wall, which he does too. Then he pulls back to get some air. You look up into his blue eyes, smiling. He smiles back almost immediately, wiping your hair out of your face. “That was..” he chuckles, still a hit breathless. “So fuckin’ amazing.”
Suddenly you hear a laugh behind you. You turn around to see Nick standing there. He had watched the whole scene and was laughing by it. Matt rolls his eyes, before looking away. “Took you long enough, kid. Will you stop bothering me now you’ve kissed the girl?” Nick smiles, before looking at you. “He wouldn’t stop talking about you. Seriously. It was so tiring.”
A small smile forms on your face. You look at Matt who’s now filled up with embarrassment. “I’ll leave you guys alone. Let’s do the pictures another time, alright?” Nick suggests. You nod, knowing you need time to let this sink in and spend some time with Matt.
This was gonna be great.
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no nut november fic 3! I hope yall like this💞 (also i wont be posting as much since i need to learn for assignments and stuff</3)
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stark-ironman · 3 hours ago
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What happens in Vegas... Part 2
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18+ No Minors
A/N: guess who finally wrote a long fic!! Well long for me. This was going to be 3 parts but I got carried away. I still could though 😈 also, the Hugh drama with his Broadway costar came back up during this sooooo i wrote it in. Enjoy 😁
Warnings: Accidental marriage, angst, jealously, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it)
Part 1
The next few weeks have flown by quickly as you and Hugh learn more about each other and this new life you both chose to live. The four of you had to leave Vegas early due to the fact someone leaked some pictures from inside the wedding chapel and your hotel was swarmed by paparazzi.
Ryan and Blake reassured you that everything was okay and they was fine going home early because they was ready to see their kids. Even Hugh tried his best to cheer you up but it didn't last long due to the fact your publicists and both of your families were blowing your phones up with questions on your relationship.
As of right now, everybody thinks that the relationship has been under wraps for a while now and you both decided to just elope so until you're ready to discuss it, only Ryan and Blake know the actual details of what happened. Since leaving Vegas, you and Hugh decided it would be a better and safer decision to stay at your house in Colorado instead of his penthouse in New York.
Your place is secluded on a big plot of land and it's been the perfect opportunity for the two of you to get to learn about each other in a more intimate way, minus the kissing and the sex. Don't get it wrong, you want to do those things with him but you both agreed to move slow with this relationship so you're waiting on Hugh to feel comfortable enough to make the first move.
"Y/N, did you hear me?" Hugh asks taping his fork on your plate, snapping you out of your thoughts. "Sorry, I guess I zoned out. What did you say?" You look at him and see a small smile on his face. "I asked what are we going to do when it's time for me to head back to New York since you live here and I live there." He says cutting another piece of steak.
"I've been thinking about that actually and I wanted to talk it over with you. You know how I feel about living in big cities, especially New York.." Hugh nods and you continue, "Would you want to move here and we just keep your place in New York so we could visit? Or we find a house on the outskirts of New York?"
Hugh takes a deep breath and thinks it over for a moment before saying, "You're my home, darling. I will go wherever you go." You feel your heart skip a beat at his words and tears well up in your eyes. "Are you sure? I know how much you love New York." He grabs your hand and nods. "We can visit whenever we want. Since staying here with you, I've become a little spoiled by this secluded farm life you live. I love being here and I love being with you." His voice is sincere and you can't help but feel yourself falling in love with him even more.
"Hugh, I need to tell you something.." You start to say but you're interrupted by his phone going off. Hugh apologizes and answers, standing up and walking away, leaving you with your thoughts.
You almost admitted to this man that you love him and while you're sure he feels the same, you don't know if he's ready to take that step yet. One thing about Hugh Jackman, the man is a flirt with everyone. He's a very smooth talker and he is really easy on the eyes. Would he be willing to give all that up? Would he ever cheat on you when he tires of you?
While you know him as a loyal friend, you don't know him as a partner or a lover. Yes, right now he's saying he's happy with you but what happens once you both go back to work and he has to kiss a girl for a movie? Or do a sex scene with one? You know you're not the best looking woman in Hollywood but you try to at least hold the self confidence of one.
Your eyes search across the room until they land on Hugh and you can't help but admire the way his back muscles look and how his pants fit in just the right places. You need to snap out of this little crush before you wind up hurting yourself and the friendship you two have had for many years.
You're pulled out of your thoughts by Hugh walking back in the dining room, sitting back across from you with a sigh. "That was my agent. They want me to come back to New York and do a Broadway show called The Music Man." He says, looking in your eyes as if trying to see your reaction. "When do they want you to leave?" You ask, trying to be a little nonchalant but you know he can tell you're not happy. "They want me to fly out of here tomorrow and be in rehearsals the next day."
"You should go. It's a great opportunity for you." You say. "Are you sure?" Hugh's eyes widen, shocked at you giving him the opportunity to leave. "I'm not going to stand in the way of this. You love singing and I love seeing you happy. Plus, I can come stay with you once I get things settled here."
Hugh breaks out in a smile, kissing your hand softly before standing up. "Let me go pack and we will spend the rest of the night watching movies and cuddling." He runs off to pack, leaving you sitting at the table by yourself with a heavy heart.
You don't want him to go but you're not the type of person to ruin a great opportunity for anybody, especially Hugh. You just hope he doesn't find somebody else while you're both away from each other.
------
It's been about a month since you've seen Hugh. He had his first show and you was there in the front row happily supporting him but shortly after the show ended, rumors circulated that Hugh was already cheating on you with his co-star, especially after she came out saying they spend a lot of time together in her dressing room. You seen the chemistry on stage between them but you was hoping it was nothing.
Hugh has tried to call and text you for the past couple of weeks but either you've short replied him or just said you was too busy to talk.
You were hurt. You knew it, Hugh knew it, everybody knew it. Ryan and Blake have even tried calling to tell you the rumors weren't true but you just couldn't handle hearing it.
A knock on your door sounds throughout the house and you already know who it is. "Darling, please open the door." Hugh's voice is muffled by the door but you ignore it, feeling the tears well up in your eyes again.
"Baby, please. I promise you nothing happened between me and her. She's just doing it for the publicity." He says, hearing something sliding against the door as he continues, "I know things have been less than ideal with us but the past few months have been the happiest of my life and it's all because of you. I only have eyes for you, even before we got together, it was always you. Ryan used to make fun of me for how in love with you I was and that's never changed. Accidentally marrying you was the best thing I ever did and I would do it all again in a heartbeat. I love you, darling and if you don't want me here then at least tell me that you don't."
Hugh goes silent and you can't help but walk towards the window, seeing him sit with his back against the door wiping at his eyes. You open the door slightly, watching as he stands up quickly to look at you.
"I'm sorry," You whisper, looking into his eyes, "I knew this would happen the day you recieved that phone call to go back to New York. I didn't want you to go but I will never stand in the way of your career. I tried to stop myself from being happy with you, from loving you, but no matter what I do I can't help but fall in love with you even more with each passing day. I ignored you because I was scared the rumors were true and I wanted to protect myself. You're a natural flirt, you do it without even knowing majority of the time and I didn't want to make you change anything about yourself. I love you the way you are but Hugh, I don't want you giving other girls the time of day. Call me selfish, call me whatever but I want you to myself. I want to have kids with you and live on a plot of land away from the spotlight. I love you more than I ever loved anybody and it scares the shit out of me."
Your confession causes the tears to flow as Hugh steps in the house, taking your face in his hands as he wipes the tears away. "I want this. I want you." He whispers, looking down at your lips.
His lips meet yours. Your arms wrapping around his waist to pull him closer, vaguely hearing the door shut as he leads you to the living room, laying you gently on the couch as he slots himself in between your legs.
Your hands find the hem of his shirt, raising it up and over his head as his lips meet yours again, his tongue running across your bottom lip before sliding past and attacking your tongue. A moan escapes your lips,
"Do you want to stop?" He mumbles against your lips. "No." You whisper back and he quickly sits up, removing your clothes before doing the same to his. Your eyes widen, quickly remembering the last time you two had sex was when you both blacked out in Vegas, but Hugh quickly reassures you. "I'll take my time, darling. I'll be easy... today." He smirks, crouching on the ground as he spreads your legs,
Hugh admires your core, as if savoring the whole thing to memory before lowering his head and licking a stripe up your slit, running it over the little nub and teasing it. "Taste so perfect.." He murmmers, wasting no time closing his mouth down and latching onto you as if he's been starved. You gasp as his tongue worked against you with long, calculated strokes, your hand gripping his hair as if your life depended on it as his lips enclose around the sensitive little bud.
You moaned his name loudly, your back arching with each pass of his tongue as the pleasure hits in ways you've never experienced before, your head falling back against the arm of the couch.
His mouth continues it's assault, your legs trembling around him as he pulls you close to your orgasm when you feel two of his fingers slide in, his lips enclosing around your sensitive spot causing you to cry out from the pleasure. He slides a third finger in, pumping his fingers into you as your release rips through you, keeping his mouth on you as he works you through your release.
Your body trembles and you're left breathless, thighs shaking from the intensity of the moment as he sits back to look at you with the most sinister smirk you've ever seen on him. His lips glossy and his hair tousled from what just happened and he leans forward, kissing you deeply to let you taste yourself.
Hugh's hand grabs his base, rubbing the head of his erection against your entrance and you shiver from the sensitivity, moaning softly when he dips his head down towards your breast and takes a nipple in his mouth.
He presses the tip against your wet folds, sliding into you slowly as if to not hurt you. Once he bottoms out, he let's you adjust to his length and when you give him permission to move, he moves slow making each thrust hard and deep. You notice he's holding back though so you decide to remind him not to.
"Hugh," You breathe out, "I won't break.. you can fuck me." Hugh let's out a low growl, placing your legs over his shoulders as he starts pounding into you, the force causing the couch to slightly move and your fingers to dig in his forearms.
His thrusts continue to go deep as you watch his head fall back from the pleasure, his mouth slightly open and low moans fall from within. "Fuck, I knew you were made for me... your pussy was made to be all mine.." He grunts, leaning down to sloppily kiss you, pressing your knees to your chest. "I'm never letting you go after this. You own me now, baby." His voice is full of promise and you kiss him again, holding on tightly to his shoulders while he continues his hard, brutal pace.
"Hugh... I'm close.." You choke out against his lips and he smirks at you. "Come for me baby." He says angling his hips just slightly, memorizing your face as you release all over his cock, moaning softly when he hears his name fall from your lips.
He continues his pace, chasing his own release. You clenching around him pulling him closer and closer, finally releasing deep inside of you and a deep growl erupting from him. Hugh rides out both of your releases, thrusting slowly inside of you for a few minutes before finally pulling out, both of you moaning softly at the feeling.
Hugh grabs you and pulls you on top of him, holding you close as he kisses the top of your head and you play with his chest hair. "I meant it, darling. After today, you own me. I don't want anybody else." He softly says, looking down at you. "I'm all yours too. Especially after that." You say with a chuckle, causing him to chuckle to.
"Will you marry me, again?" Hugh asks and you lift your head up to look at him. "I know it's not the most romantic time but we agreed we would do a ceremony if we chose to be together. I want to marry you and say our vows, this time with us both remembering it."
"I would marry you in every lifetime." You say, kissing him softly.
For the first time since Vegas, you finally feel like everything is falling into place and you are extremely happy for the future with Hugh.
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famoussharkhairdoknight · 2 days ago
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a "friendly" kiss p.1~ Jobe Bellingham
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You’re sitting on the couch next to your best friend Jobe, with whom you always feel comfortable, yet tonight it seems a little different. You just had a movie marathon together, but Jobe looks thoughtful, like he has something to say. At one point, he takes a deep breath and looks you in the eye, visibly embarrassed.
"Y/n... I... can I ask you something a little strange?" he begins, with a slight blush that colors his cheeks.
You look at him intrigued, trying not to laugh at the serious expression he tries to maintain, even if he seems in trouble. " Of course, tell me," you reply, trying not to sound too curious.
"Here, I’m dating this girl, you know..." he begins, fidgeting nervously with his fingers. " I never... you know, I never kissed anyone really. I’m afraid to make a fool of myself..."
You understand immediately where it is going to go, but remain silent, leaving time for him to say it in his own way.
"I thought..." he mutters in half voice, looking away, "if you could... help me practice?"
He catches you by surprise, and for a moment you feel the cheeks warm. But there’s also something funny about his request, he’s just your best friend and seems really nervous. " Are you saying that you want to... kiss me?" you ask, smiling slightly to ease the tension.
Jobe scratches his neck, definitely uncomfortable. "Just... to understand how it works, without complications. I know I can trust you," he adds in a low voice.
You take a moment to think, but then nod. "Okay, Jobe. Nothing strange... it’s just a kiss, right?"
He approaches slowly, and you feel his closer breath mixed with a shadow of hesitation. " If you feel uncomfortable, we can stop at any time, okay?" he says, staring into your eyes. There is a certain sweetness in his gaze that reassures you.
Then she lightly touches your lips with hers, and for a moment there is only that delicate, almost uncertain contact. But the moment you both get used to the feeling, the kiss deepens, and you feel that Jobe is squeezing you a little more, as if the gesture was more spontaneous than he had planned. Her hands reach your face, and there is a sweetness and slowness in the way she explores the kiss, making the experience surprisingly intimate.
His mouth moves with a delicacy that you did not expect, and the intensity grows with each second. His movements are slow but decisive, and you feel a new confidence in him. You respond without thinking about it, letting yourself go to that moment. Without realizing it, you feel your heart beating faster, and the room seems to disappear around you.
After a moment, you slowly come off, and Jobe looks at you, eyes slightly confused and still close to yours. "Wow... I didn’t think a kiss could... be like that," he murmured, as if he had been overwhelmed.
Nod, trying to catch your breath. " Neither do I, in fact," you reply softly, realizing how intense that moment was, more than you expected.
You look at each other for a moment that seems eternal, and he smiles at you, almost as if everything had changed, yet everything was exactly the same.
Jobe interrupts the kiss for a moment, his gaze glides over your lips with a sweetness that makes you vibrate.
"You’re... perfect"he whispers in a low voice, with a smile that reflects a little of the shyness of before.
Your eyes cross again for a moment, and your mind is in turmoil, unable to understand whether it’s curiosity, nervousness, or something new beating in your chest.
Jobe looks at you with an indecipherable expression, his breath just accelerating, but there is a spark in his eyes that you had never noticed before.
Before you can say anything, he comes closer again, as if attracted by a magnetic force, and his lips find yours once more. The second kiss is different, more decisive and deeper.
Feel his hand gently slide behind your neck, caressing you with a new confidence. Without words, he leans slightly backwards, drawing you towards him. You find yourself letting go to that gesture, following the warmth that emanates from him, and he helps you, guiding you to climb on his horse.
Now you are so close that every thought seems to vanish, and you feel only the rhythm of his breath below you, the chest rising and falling, synchronized with yours.
His hands gently grab your hips, as if to keep you balanced, and you let your fingers slide through his hair, caressing it slowly while you still kiss him.
Your lips move with a passion that grows every second, as if you have forgotten everything else, as if instinct has taken over. Jobe interrupts the kiss for a moment, his gaze glides over your lips with a sweetness that makes you vibrate.
"'So beautiful" whispers in a low voice, with a smile that waves a little of that timidity of before. You smile, clenching a little more at him, without turning your eyes away.
"And you thought you were going to be a fool," you whispered with a light smile, stroking his face. He laughs softly, looking down for a moment.
"Maybe because I had not yet found the right person to try with" he whispers, and returns to seek your lips, letting go completely at that moment.
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snowyroads · 3 days ago
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It’s gamedey guys!!!🧡🖤 I am absolutely panicking all day! 🤗 my whole family thinks they’re gonna lose (great support system guys!😐)
also found out last minute i have to work a closing shift tonight and imma miss like most of the game😔😔 (pls my lovely moots, tag me if anything crazy happens 😭)
but to give us all good luck, hope and prosperity; here’s a sneak peek at the jealousJa’marr! fic😼👀
Ja’marr’s in the middle of brushing his teeth when Joe does get home. He hears the sound of the front door shut, the grumble of too many lights being on, and the sound of footsteps walking around their bedroom.
He continues to brush, focusing on himself in the mirror, even as Joe walks into the bathroom—shirtless—a hand on Ja’marr’s waist as he passes behind him, a single kiss getting pressed to the back of his neck.
Ja’marr spits toothpaste into the sink, ignoring Joe as a whole, rinsing his mouth and wiping away the excess paste around his mouth with a towel. Ja’marr feels Joe’s gaze on him the entire time, the atmosphere tense.
“Everything alright?” Joe asks, breaking the silence as he reaches for his own toothbrush after Ja’marr moves out of the way.
Ja’marr nods, “Yeah, all good.”
Joe gives him a look but Ja’marr ignores him, walks out of the bathroom, and settles into the bed. He sprawled across the bed, his hands clasped behind his head as he watched Joe move in the bathroom. The door was half-open, and he could see Joe's back illuminated by the soft, golden glow of the light, his frame silhouetted as he leaned over the sink. His broad shoulders and narrow waist highlighted by the way his muscles shifted with each subtle motion.
Even though all Joe was doing was brushing his teeth, Ja’marr felt a warmth pool in his chest, spreading slowly as his eyes traced the lines of Joe's back.
It’s hard being mad at someone so hot.
Ja'marr's gaze drifted lower, catching the way Joe's body swayed slightly with each movement. And that’s when his eyes caught onto the purple and black splotch of skin on the side of Joe’s lower back. The bruise stands out against the pale skin, clearly visible and just formed.
“Joe,” Ja’marr says, getting the blonde’s attention. He turns around and walks forward into the bedroom, his lips still pressed just so against the toothbrush in his mouth. “Who gave you the bruise?”
Joe’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked down at his bare chest before trying to twist his body to see his own back. In any other situation, Ja’marr would think the sight in front of him was hilarious but right now, all he can think about is covering that bruise with his own love bites.
He walks back into the bathroom, looking at the bruise through the mirror. Ja’marr hears Joe hum before he spits the toothpaste out in the sink and turns the faucet on. The light turns off in the bathroom and Joe walks out.
“Probably from one of Maxx’s hits.” Joe says as he moves around the room with an air of nonchalance that was almost maddening. It pissed Ja’marr even more at the fact that Joe used Crosby’s first name. Usually, whenever they talked about a game and Joe would mention a sack, he’d say Jones or Garrett, never saying their first names.
But all of a sudden Crosby was Maxx?
(I’m making this shit longer than it needs to be cuz im too obsessed 😭)
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arolesbianism · 1 month ago
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Finished my isat playthrough. 💥💥💥
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suguann · 6 months ago
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tags. fem!reader, boss/employee relationship, stupidly domestic, little wife kink in there somewhere, nanny reader, single dad gojo, breeding kink [18+ only]
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You sometimes find yourself wistfully imagining having a family of your own—a soft and sweet little bundle to cuddle and someone strong and capable (competent) at your side. But you can’t think of the last time you’ve been on a date where that person had the same interest in something more serious than casually sleeping around. 
Nannying seemed like the natural conclusion, especially when you’re still settling in a new city and barely scraping by for rent and student loans for a degree you don’t use. 
You pick up a few jobs just to get a feel for it: parents going away for a honeymoon, a last-minute call-in, a weekend business trip. Then a friend of a friend says she makes enough to afford one of those picturesque apartments that overlook tall high-rises and iridescent lights, the very ones you’ve dog-eared in real-estate magazines.
All it takes are a few phone calls and an interview until you’re packing up your apartment and taking the freeway outside of the city to somewhere remote and expensive, your car looking almost out of place parked beside the shiny new one in the long driveway.
You rap on the front door before you lose your nerve, and a few moments later, it opens, and you’re unsure who looks more out of place: this man with a smile too big, dressed for work, immaculate suit dampened by the baby rag slung over his shoulder and what looks like drool on his crisp collar, or you in your scuffed shoes and second-hand store clothes, standing in front of the nicest house you’ve ever seen.
“The nanny?”
“Yes,” you mutter, licking your lips. “That’s me.”
“Good, Ren just woke up from his nap,” he says, opening the door a little wider with a creak. The darkness behind him is almost comforting.
You take a deep breath and pass over the threshold into his home.
The entire time, his hand stays on the small of your back to steer you toward the nursery, and a shiver threatens up the length of your spine.
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Three months. That’s how long it takes before your employer poses a problem.
It’s not that he’s a terrible boss; in fact, he’s quite the opposite. He lets you take over one of the many spare rooms in his massive house, pays you double the regular rate, and gives you time off when you ask for it.
It also helps that Ren is cute, only a year old, and still so sweet and tiny. 
Perfect.
The problem lies in that you know what he sounds like first thing in the morning, that he knows how you like your coffee, that he helps you fold laundry in the living room while the baby naps, how you catch him staring anytime you hold his son—his expression shuttered, a foreign thing that you can’t read. It’s all so terribly domestic. 
Terrible in that you think it’s a horrible idea to develop a crush on your boss, that you can’t help but get flustered anytime he so much as looks your way, even if it’s fleeting. How a sleepy smile before he retires to his room for the night can turn your thoughts into a scattered, ill-defined mess of what they used to be until all that’s left are words like spun sugar melting on your tongue.
But also, it’s not normal, at least not from your experience. 
You were lucky in the past if your employer even wanted to know about their kid’s day. Barely saying hello once they walk through the front door before sending money to your bank account.
Satoru—because that’s what he asked you to call him one afternoon while you were in the middle of feeding Ren mashed banana, a lazy smile curling the edges of his lips after you say it for the first time—wants to know everything: what Ren ate, if he laughed, how your day was, if you finally got your hands on that book you’ve been meaning to buy. 
“You don’t have to ask about my day,” you tell him shyly, accepting the glass of wine he proffers you after spending the past hour trying to put a teething baby to bed. “To make me feel better, that is.”
“Would it be so bad if I said I want to? You live here, too.”
You try to separate the two: that he cares as your employer and not for any other reason, and how you sometimes catch the soft look in his eye whenever he looks at you could make you believe otherwise.
Cool fingers cup your chin gently, thumb caressing the top of your cheek, now close enough that you catch a few of the warm notes of his cologne, a move that’s probably very inappropriate between a boss and an employee.
“I never say anything I don’t mean.”
You swallow, nodding, slightly shaky, breath caught in your chest. “Okay.”
“Good girl.” He retreats to his office before witnessing how those two words knock the wind out of you.
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He starts saying things like our shopping list, our car—because he gave you the keys to the SUV parked beside his car and hasn’t touched it since; for you and the baby, he said, plus it’s terrible on gas when I drive it to work—our house, our baby. You don’t think he means to do it; it's more of an easy slip in conversation.
But then, one morning, he’s rushing around the kitchen, hair still damp and smelling like his shampoo, as he grabs his coffee and briefcase from the counter, kissing Ren’s forehead first…and then yours.
You’re half convinced that you imagined it—that his lips hadn’t stayed there for a second longer than necessary—until he straightens his tie and heads out for the day with a ‘be good’ tossed over his shoulder, and you’re left wondering if he meant to say that to you or Ren.
It sets off a chain reaction of thoughts whirling away in your head, leaves you wanting and wondering—only ever allowing yourself to fantasize a little when the house is quiet and dark, the baby monitor humming on your nightstand, and images of your boss flit behind closed eyelids as you fit your hand underneath your soft sleep shorts.
In the morning, you worry he can tell what you did, his smile almost too sharp, too something—more teasing than what you’re used to—his hand resting on your lower back as he leans down to kiss Ren’s chubby cheek while you make breakfast.
“I have a meeting this afternoon, so I’ll be late. Want me to pick up some food on the way home?”
No, you think, there’s no way he knows.
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You spend most of the morning cleaning and folding the array of graphic onesies Satoru has a penchant for dressing Ren in, and the later half walking around the pool because it’s warm and Ren enjoys splashing around in the water. It’s enough to tucker him out for bed early, unable to keep his eyes open while eating a plate of mashed potatoes.
It’s also the first time in weeks that you have the night to yourself, no baby keeping you busy, no Satoru to—well.
After a long shower, you step out of the bathroom, moving into the hallway. And there are many reasons why you felt confident walking the few steps it took to reach your bedroom. Most revolve around what Satoru told you that morning, so you don’t expect him to be standing there, shirtsleeves rolled up, piercing gaze sliding down the length of you wrapped in a towel and little else.
“I brought home those drunken noodles you like,” he says when his eyes focus back on your face, his whole expression softening into a smile.
A beat. “Thank you,” you whisper, unable to look away.
He tucks the wet strands of hair clinging to your cheek behind your ear. “Why don’t you get dressed, and I’ll join you downstairs?”
The noise in your brain goes static.
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You’re unsure what causes it, but everything changes when he comes home early one afternoon and finds you and the baby napping in the nursery. He has this soft look on his face and something else you can’t decipher with his piercing blue eyes settled firmly on you.
Ren coos softly into your shoulder. 
When Satoru picks him up and settles him in the crib, then walks you to your room—here, let me help you—and when he hovers in your doorway, you let him in without question.
He doesn’t waste any time peeling off your clothes, eager to have you naked and splayed out underneath him. You cum on his tongue more times than you can count until you’re silently begging him to fuck you.
He laughs, large hands spread over your tummy. 
“Use your words, baby. I’m not a mind reader.”
You feel like you’re someone else watching you from somewhere else, another body rocking against the length of your boss’s cock, back arching every time you manage to find the friction you need. He’s hard against your back, thick in a way that makes you wonder if he did enough to stretch you out. 
“I-I want—”
All other thoughts are obliterated by the stretch and press of him against your cunt. 
“Think I’m going to keep you,” he rasps, lips dragging over your throat. “Keep this drippy little cunt spread open on my desk whenever I want while the baby naps. Would you like that? For me to fuck you full until you give me a baby.”
You clench, nerves shot.
“Gonna get all round with my baby, stay here forever,” he mumbles when he draws away, and you can’t tell if the words are meant for you to hear or slip out without him realizing. “Fuck—breed my little wife until it takes—”
Your eyes roll up, lost in the little promises he paints across your skin, body shivering over and over until you’re sobbing from it until he has to clamp a hand down over your mouth—shh, you’re going to wake the baby—going limp when he finally cums, pressing as deep as your body will allow, as if he can somehow imprint himself there. 
Wonders if maybe he’s been building up to this moment all along. 
It’s so easy to lay there after, blissed out while he litters kisses across your face and collarbones, letting him lift your hips up to slide a pillow underneath, even though the position is awkward when he tries to cuddle you afterward.
His fingers draw shapes on your stomach, giving you a wistful look, like he can’t believe he’s laying here with his cum still dripping between your thighs—no matter how many times he scoops it up and pushes it back inside you. “Do you think it’ll take?”
And you don’t have the heart to tell him about the little foil packet of pills tucked away in your nightstand.
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chuluoyi · 1 year ago
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✎ forever
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- gojo satoru x reader
the three times he asked you to marry him
genre: slightly suggestive, fluff/comfort, silly and lovesick gojo, wedding proposals, mild angst, mentions of injury and protective gojo
note: i was inspired by some fics with this kind of trope and i can totally see gojo asking you to marry him while he's dead drunk—
a part of gojo's love entries
general masterlist
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"Why don't we get married?"
The first time Satoru brought this up was right after you both had exhausted yourselves in an intense, passionate lovemaking session.
His bare skin was against yours, and the intimacy of it almost made you want to go along with his suggestion, until you grasped the profound meaning behind his words.
"Satoru," you breathed out, still breathless as you came down from your high. "Are you seriously asking me that now?"
A dopey smile was on his face. "Yeah, is there a problem with it?"
You blinked. The nerve of this clown-head—
"Not even a proper proposal? Or a ring?" you scowled. "Considering your usual flair, this is a rather lackluster attempt at a proposal."
Of course, you weren't a material girl, but considering his big ego and tendency to go overboard, you just had to call him out.
"Hmm? So if there's a grand proposal and I bought you a ring, then you'll say yes?"
There was practically a twinkle in those bright eyes of his now, and you were a bit caught off guard because well, so he is for real?
You’d be lying if you said that the thought of marrying him hadn’t crossed your mind. But to be frank, Gojo Satoru didn't strike you as someone who was interested in anything as cliché as marriage and everything that comes with it.
Which brought you back to this point—you had absolutely no idea what possessed him to bring up this question.
"Hah," you let out a sardonic laugh. "Not that easy. I'll think about it."
When he let out a “Ehhh?”, and started sulking, you were quite sure, and dismissed the question as one of his passing whims.
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The second time he posed the question, he was a babbling, slurring mess of alcohol and hiccups.
"Can't we—hic!—" His face was flushed, and he was pitifully wobbling on his feet. "—just get married—hic!—already?"
This time you scoffed, partly out of disdain, crossing your arms in front of you. Satoru seemed to pick up on your unfavorable reaction and attempted to convince you. "I'm being—"
"No," you sternly interrupted, supporting him as he struggled to stay on his feet. You shot an unapologetic look at the other patrons in the bar who were watching you both with disapproving frowns. "Satoru, we're going home."
"I'm—hic!—asking you to marry me!"
"I said no."
"Why?!"
You sighed. "You're dead drunk."
"What will—hic—make you say yes?"
You let out another sigh. It already took a great deal of patience to deal with his immaturity as his girlfriend, and you could only imagine how much more challenging it would be as his wife.
"I'm so heartbroken," he whined, crocodile tears pooling in his eyes as he peered at you like a kicked puppy. "I got rejected twice already... How could you reject me twice?"
You rolled your eyes at his theatrics.
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"Marry me."
The third time around, he was neither bringing it up on a whim or drunk, also he wasn't quite asking—his tone was almost pleading.
And you just woke up from your comatose state after a mission gone wrong, still in your bloodied uniform, eyes barely adjusting to the bright room.
Satoru let out a grunt, clasping your fingers in his warm, reassuring grip. It was evident how deeply distressed he was from the furrowed brow and the quiver in his lips as he looked down at you, as well as the gentle way he was stroking your hair.
At this moment, you wanted to cry. The fact that he was so genuinely concerned for you filled you with warmth and emotion.
. . .
He saw it happen right before him—the crimson blood flowing out of your wound like waterfall. He had screamed at you to breathe and not let go of his hand. The moment he felt your head loll back in his arms and you lost your grip on him, he could swear his own heart had stopped too.
He had never been more grateful that you—his best friend, love of his life, the only one he had left—awoke from that horrifying ordeal. Seeing you stained red by your own blood had undoubtedly distorted his point of view, but his desire to marry you, as what he had been suggesting as of late, clearly was not just a mere passing thought.
Because he is acutely aware of how cruel this world is. This damned world has always taken everything that's important to him, and before they can snatch you away too, he will claim you as his first.
"Marry me," he repeated, his voice now sounding more hoarse, not as confident as it had been the first time.
As you gazed into his beautiful eyes, it occurred to your hazy mind that you very nearly died. That you were that close to not seeing him ever again. You had been apprehensive with how he had phrased his proposals so far, and you didn't want your marriage to be a split-second decision forced by some sort of looming omen.
And yet, falling in love with Gojo Satoru had never been the easiest, but you did anyway. He still held onto your hand, patiently awaiting your response—
—but suddenly, like a sharp whiplash effect, what shocked you was that who you saw then wasn't your boyfriend.
But rather, the man with the mantle of the strongest sorcerer alive.
You could lose him just as much as he could lose you. Sooner or later, who knows? His title is both a blessing and a curse. Up until now, it has been a blessing, but who can say when it might suddenly turn into a curse that tears him away from you?
. . .
This time, you didn't snort or doubt his intention. Instead, you smiled, embracing the profound flutter in your chest as you were being proposed.
"Okay," you whispered, voice dry. "Yes… I'll marry you, Satoru."
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dollfacefantasy · 22 days ago
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LITTLE BAMBI EYES ♡
pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: how leon loves you so. his beautiful bride. he loves your sweet face and pretty eyes. he just can't understand why he loves to see both overcome with tears.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, blowjob, dacryphilia, daddy kink, age gap (20s, late 30s)
a/n: thank you to whoever requested this. i've been kinda missing daddy leon </3
kinktober slot: day 19 - dacryphilia
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Sometimes you make Leon feel like a horrible person.
It's not anything you do or say. Nothing intentional on your part at all. Honestly, it's kind of just his default setting around you simply for the fact that you're wearing a ring on your finger that ties you to him for the rest of your life while also being over ten years younger than him.
You've told him over and over that it's not a big deal. This is the modern world, baby. He just has to get with the times. No one cares about the two of you, and even if they do, who gives a shit? You're a responsible adult, and the two of you love each other. That's all there is to it.
And while he tends to agree with your speeches in the moment, they don't completely erase the guilt from his subconscious. Though his feelings of unease would probably remain at that deeper level if not for days like today.
Today, Leon had arrived home from a mission. It had been a particularly long one, spanning almost a whole month. Nearly thirty days of waiting around and doing recon work, tasks that could've been done by those on a lower level of the government's hierarchy than him, before completing the objective. He was more than ready to come home to you. The longing to see your face again, to hear your voice, it was practically a physical ailment at this point.
The moment he came through the door you were there. You latched onto him and wouldn't let go. He had to drop his stuff by the entryway so he could scoop you up and carry you to the nearest chair in the living room.
He sits down with you in his lap, allowing you to smother him in kisses and fuss over how he looks so tired. But what makes him feel so awful, what causes the gnawing ache that festers in his chest in regards to your relationship is when he sees your eyes begin to grow misty.
It starts with watery eyes and then your voice cracks and you can barely get a word out before you're whimpering and tucking your face into the crook of his neck. You cry and cry about how you were so worried and you missed him so much and you never want him to leave you again.
The whole thing makes him feel guilty on a surface level. He never wants to make his pretty little wife cry. He doesn't want her going sick with worry because of him. But the other layer of this thing that truly makes him feel like something is wrong with him comes from the fact that your display of emotion gets him hard.
He tries with everything he has to stop it. He's not even sure what it really is about it that gets him going like this. In his mind, he tries to rationalize that he just finds it sweet that you miss him. It's just cute, it's not something he needs to agonize over. He doesn't really know, but also when the blood starts rushing South, he doesn't really care.
You sniffle and tighten your arms around his torso while he coos at you and rubs your back. He hushes you gently while adjusting in his seat to make sure you don't feel the swell of his bulge just yet. Sure, he's turned on by your tears, but that doesn't make him inconsiderate. He lets you get most of it out first before trying anything else.
"Shh, shh, shh. It's ok. I'm right here, baby. I made it home safe and sound like always," he murmurs against your hairline, "There's no reason to cry, I don't want you wasting any tears on me."
He swipes away those small droplets of water with his thumb before directing you to look up at him. Your expression makes him smile. Despite their sadness, your eyes gleam with so much love. Your lip wobbles with all the care that pumps through your beating heart.
"So emotional," he teases softly, "C'mon, sweetheart, gimme a kiss. Let me make it better."
Without hesitation, you lean in. He smirks against your lips, cupping your cheek and guiding you in the exchange. It's the opening he needs to make things seem natural. He can act like he's just so pent up from being away that a few kisses got him hot under the collar. Not that he popped a boner as soon as he saw tears pooling against your lash line.
It works. You scoot closer and feel the stiff length graze your thigh. It'd been a long time since you'd had him too. Feeling that familiar hardness against your soft flesh is all it takes for explicit ideas to begin blooming in your mind.
Before he knows it, you're on your knees between his legs. Your lips slide up and down his cock, gliding the shaft into your warm, wet mouth down to your throat. His head tilts back against the sagging cushion of his chair. He pets the crown of your head while you work, wordless appreciation for your efforts.
A deep sigh leaves him as your tongue traces along the veins. You get a groan out of him for flicking your tongue at the ridge. After a few more sucks, you pull off and stroke him instead. 
He hears a soft sniffle. His eyes snap down to you on the floor, and he realizes that you're still crying. A moan bubbles up in his throat. He tries to stifle it, but parts of it still break free.
"Hey, hey. What- what's wrong? You ok?" he chokes out, trying to sound normal and not like he's about to lose it.
You nod while looking up at him with those glossy eyes. Your hand doesn't stop pumping him as tears roll down your cheeks.
"I just missed you so much," you whimper.
Your knuckles graze your cheek. The duality of your cute, tear-streaked face next to your skilled hand jerking him off is nearly too much to take in.
"I'm right here," he says, trying to offer comfort, "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."
"Yeah, but you don't get it. I just missed you," you cry again. Another few drops fall as you blink and your lip quivers.
In a way, Leon does understand. It's not that you're currently upset, it's just lingering feelings causing your emotions to act up a bit. He doesn't have a problem with it regardless of the cause though. Not if this is the result.
You go back in to suckle the tip. Your lips wrap around him in a little, perfect 'o.' It feels like you've come straight from heaven to do this for him. He doesn't think it can get any better until you look up at him. Seeing your eyes full of tears while you pleasure him is a whole other kind of sensation.
Hissing in ecstasy, he knows for certain now that he can't last that. He gently guides your mouth off before yanking you up into his lap.
"Can't have you crying like that, honey. Let daddy make it better," he mutters while tugging your shorts down and haphazardly working them off of you.
You help him out and shimmy your panties down too before lining his cock up at your entrance and sinking down. The whole month since you'd last taken it was worth it now. You bounce up and down, letting the familiar filling sensation seep in.
Cries pour from your lips openly, and his eyes roll back. His hands rest on your hips with a loose grip. The touch is present enough to offer the illusion that he's helping.
"Feels so good," you whimper.
"Does it, baby? Just what you were missing, huh?" he rasps.
You nod quickly as your body rises and falls. He feels you squeezing around him, your walls fluttering each time he splits you open.
Once he's calmed down a bit, he starts to rock his hips upwards against yours. He drives himself a little deeper inside you, nudging all the spots you weren't hitting before. You tilt forward and put your head back against his throat like you'd had it earlier.
"That's right. Keep crying for me," he grunts as he picks up his own pace a bit, "Let daddy hear how much you missed him."
Another sob tumbles from you as if prompted by the command. He holds you close and rubs your back like this is a normal method of soothing you. Tears leak out against his throat, trickling down to his collarbone. He can feel the warm liquid and the brush of your eyelashes on his sensitive skin.
"My good girl. Daddy's got you," he sighs.
He pounds up into you with a few more thrusts. The rock of his hips slides his pelvis against your clit, working you towards the end. You whimper and cling to him, arms wrap around his shoulders with the strength of a vise.
"So pretty when you're all weepy for me," he murmurs.
His hands tighten around your waist, actually keeping you in place now for him to thrust into. He grits his teeth. The sensation in the pit of his stomach lets him know he's close to the edge too.
"Fuck... you close, angel?" he asks.
You nod, still not lifting your head from the safety of his shoulder.
The response is good enough for him though. He can feel you clamping around him. Every stroke elicits a wet squelch from between your bodies. You're gushing for him, ready to explode. Tears pour from your eyes in a seemingly endless supply.
"Let me have it. Don't hold back," he directs in a strained tone while creeping to the high himself.
He thrusts in deep and slams you down on him before spilling his load inside you. The sensation brings you to your peak and rips another cry from you. You hiccup out a moan between the sobs. Your nails dig into his shoulders while your body shudders. Even though you'd only cum once, it feels like everything is overloaded.
His hips continue to move, fucking his release into you and working you through the waves of euphoria. 
"Fuck-" he hisses, "That's my girl. Fuck, you're my girl. My baby. So good for me."
His fucked out words hit your ears and get you feeling all loopy. Your head stays against his shoulder, content to rest there while he takes what he needs. A few more tears slide out against your silken skin.
Your body feels limp on top of his by the time you're both through it. He feels boneless too, sunken into his seat while catching his breath.
You're still crying a little bit. He can hear it right by his ear. To get more comfortable, he reaches down and pulls the lever that causes the chair to recline. It pushes you fully against his body and lets him hold you better. His fingers trace little circles on the small of your back while his other arm drapes across your shoulder blades.
"I missed you too, baby," he whispers with a small kiss to your head.
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whorelaud · 17 days ago
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꒦꒷ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 off limits ¡
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pairing brother's best friend¡nicholas chavez x fem¡reader
summary thinking you were messaging your friend, you accidentally sent your brother's best friend a thirsty paragraph about him, with Nicholas opening it before you get a chance to delete it. what you were not expecting was the leading conversation, causing realization to wash over you as he hints your desire is not one-sided after all.
contains suggestive, sexual tension, a bit of dirty talking, a brief kiss, flustered reader, cocky nic, hes also very freaky (uhh???)
a/n this is the silliest thing ive ever written i was giggling the whole time while writing it. likes and reblogs are v much appreciated!!!
word count 1.7k
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You: the amount of self control i have is insane because why do i not have this mans dick in my mouth rn please i need nic so fucking bad its not even funny anymore he is everything i want in life id let him use me any day morning afternoon n night im available ugh i dont even get the ick when its him he was acting like a dad earlier yelling at us to grill the meat right and it was so adorable ill call you daddy u want me to call u sir i dont kink shame im down for whatever king omg stop he got hurt earlier and he GROANED???? i almost fell to my knees YAHOOO he definitely whimpers #needthat 10/10 i just know its thick ooh tip pink shade #d97e77 thats insane till my knees are bruised and my throats scratched my panties fell tears are rolling down my thighs OMG PLS can you feel my pain hes so bodangshis how does my brother look at him and not wanna fuck him id be all over him if that was my friend gahhhd!!! hes actually so sweet he kept speaking to me earlier so i dont feel left out of the conversation and i find that adorable do u think he slaps it before he cums oh my his girlfriends so lucky im ab to put her in a headlock ahaha this is gross no man should have this much of an impact on u unless their dick is big and the sex is absolutely amazing yooo what he probably knows how to please a lady id be hard if i had a dick rn STOPP he has a happy trail im gonna lose it hahah lets find out where it leads i dont wanna think ab that im going crazy literally pulling my hair out that should be u baby GIVE ME A CHANCE?!!!! thinking ab him makes me so nervous this is getting a little too srs ahaha okay im sorry hows life?!? i miss u :(
Sending that message, you were anything but expecting the response you got in return, not from the man himself, that’s for sure.
nic: oh?
nic: i think you got the wrong person
You audibly gasp, realization washing over you as you read over the message. That was, in fact, not for Nicholas, nor was it for anyone but your friend to see.
You panic, putting your phone down to process what happened, needing a moment before responding. Right, you needed to do that.
But why did he see it so fast? He didn't even give you time to comprehend your message, the text switching to read in an instant.
Hell, it was midnight, and it’s been a long, tiring day for the both of you, having been out the whole afternoon, merely to come back to the hotel and spend more time with your other friends.
Everyone decided to end the night off early; early being a bit before midnight, with you heading to your room afterwards. Your brother and his best friend shared the room taking place next to yours, making it easy to reach out to him.
And for that, you were grateful since Nicholas was with him; meaning you got to see more of him throughout this trip.
You’ve had a crush on Nicholas for god knows how long, with it starting the moment your brother befriended him. You’ve technically gone through all the phases he experienced, hell, you saw him more than your own parents.
He was sweet, a little too sweet, perhaps it bothered you. Nicholas was very known among women, he knew how to attract a lady, showering her with praises until he eventually got what he wanted.
That made you extremely jealous, knowing you couldn't have him. He was forbidden, off-limits, someone you could only admire from afar.
And that stupid crush of yours led to this conversation, one you didn't want to discuss.
You: i didnt mean to send that to you
The text switched from delivered to read right away, causing your breath to catch in your throat.
nic: clearly
nic: i dont have a gf btw
Why did he feel the need to clarify that, and why were you relieved over hearing it?
You buried your face in your pillow, feeling heat reduce from your body. You’ve never been this embarrassed before, not around Nicholas. While you were weird sometimes, it was never this bad.
He wasn't supposed to know about this, nor discover it the way he did.
You: cover your eyes pls
You: this wasn't for u
nic: you sure?
nic: are there any other nics in your life?
Your stomach twisted at the message, hand coming up to cover your mouth as an audible gasp escaped your throat. How could he say that?
You felt all sorts of emotions wash over you, unable to process each one of them as you read the message over and over again.
You: what if there is
The question was risky, it could either end with him telling your brother, or him teasing you over it and brushing it off. Either way, you couldn't have him, so why not just fuck it and go with the flow?
nic: then that would be disappointing.
Your breath caught in your throat, vision going blurry as Nicholas’ bubble kept appearing and disappearing.
nic: id really hate that you feel this way about someone else
Oh my god, were you dreaming?
You could not believe your eyes. You turned off your phone, letting the dimness of the room seep through for a moment before you unlocked your device once again, heart skipping a beat when you realized it was real.
Nicholas, your brother’s best friend, might have been flirting with you, but that’s just in your head, right…?
You: ??? wdym
nic: you first
nic: was this about me, doll?
The pet name made you weak to your core, spiraling you over the edge as you put your phone down for a second. You took a deep breath, feeling your face heat up at how suggestive the boy sounded.
He sounded so desperate, you weren't sure if it was the tiredness, or him being genuine. Either way, you’re fucked, because you’re willing to do anything for him, even if it means breaking your heart.
You: what if it was
You: what will you do ab it
You felt nauseous as you waited for a response, groaning when the boy disappeared for a minute. Did you say something wrong? Why did he suddenly leave?
nic: then id risk it all
Speechless. Your mouth hung open, chest filling with lust as a breath heaved out of you.
You: are you saying this because you’re tired
nic: no
nic: god no
There was no ounce of self control in your body left. You almost screamed, overwhelmed by a new sense of emotions.
Is this how it felt? Because fucking hell.
You: it is
nic: it is what?
You: this is so embarrassing
You: why are you making me admit it you know exactly what im talking about
nic: baby
nic: jus tell me
You: no you suck im going to sleep
nic: WAIT no come here youre so cute
You blushed at the message, unable to suppress the smile forming on your lips. God, he’s such an idiot. And you were totally swooned for him.
You: i literally just sent you a message talking ab how much i wanna suck your dick what about that is cute
nic: oh? so you do admit it
You: …
You felt nervous, realizing how serious this has gotten. From a silly message turned into you contemplating whether this was a good idea. The last thing you were anticipating while typing that message was a confrontation, one from Nicholas; at that.
nic: you couldve told me yk
You: do you hear yourself
nic: ? what
You: nic you know this is wrong
You: youre gonna wake up tmr and forget all ab it
nic: you knkw
nic: yoirw so fucjinf hot
You came to a halt, noticing the amount of mistakes the boy was making. Your mind wandered somewhere else, feeling heat crawl past your neck, all the way to your face.
You: what are you saying
nic: fucking hell
nic: take the hint baby
You froze in your spot, tongue coming out to wet your lips, suddenly feeling heat travel to in between your legs. Don’t give in, don't give in, don’t give in.
You: what
nic: you couldve asked me if you were curious
nic: i wouldve happily showed you
That sent you over the edge. Your mind went fuzzy, unable to process the last few texts you received from Nicholas. He was being serious, dead serious, you were sure of that.
The texts you exchanged always revolved around your brother; usually Nicholas asking whether he was home or not. However, this one was different.
He was hinting something, something very risky that you were unable to resist.
You: dont say that
nic: what, you don't believe me?
You: nic
nic: give me five
You stared at the message on the screen, confused on what he meant. Your eyebrows furrowed with puzzlement, awaiting a message, merely to get nothing in return.
As you were about to shut your phone and go to sleep, it pinged, the notification startling you awake. You clicked on it immediately, mind going hazy as you read the message over and over again.
nic: open the door
nic: im outside your room
You didn’t hesitate as you got up, swiftly walking your way to the door. You unlocked it with haste, vision going blurry as you caught sight of Nicholas, who was standing inches away from you now.
He looked just as desperate as you were, maybe even more. And that was it, it was all you needed to pull him by the collar and cease the distance between you two.
The moment his lips collided with yours, you realized that maybe it’s worth ending up with a broken heart, because Nicholas tastes fucking addicting, and you found every way to make good use out of that obsession.
The possession of knowing he’s off limits, yet here he was, eagerly kissing you numb.
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sweet-as-an-angel · 9 months ago
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Ghost, Simon & You [SMUT]
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Warnings: 18+, Smut, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, Implied Breeding Kink, Implied Forced Pregnancy, Stomach Bulging, Possessive! Ghost, Kinda Evil! Ghost, Simon and Ghost are Separate People in the Same Body, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.
Backed up! Simon who uses you as his personal cum dump whenever he returns from deployment. You know you’re in for an absolute pounding when you hear him banging on your front door, only to see him standing there, tall and dark as a shadow, looking down at you with an almost manic gaze.
He hasn't even been home to change first, still clad in his balaclava, eye paint and the under-layers of his tactical attire. He pushes his way in, kicking the door shut behind him with his boot and pressing his lips to yours. It doesn’t matter that you can’t feel his skin, that he’s almost crushing your skull as he grips your cheeks and brings you as close as physically possible, that you can taste gunpowder, dust and death on his mask. That this isn’t Simon at all, but the unholy spirit that possesses him. 
Doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter.
It also doesn’t matter that he literally tears your shirt from your body, a rumble reverberating through his chest when he sees you without underwear. You were expecting him. Good.
Simon – Ghost – is never gentle when it comes to the first round. He never strips all the way down, either, always leaving his mask on, too. He just yanks his pants down as far as necessary before pressing the hard, aching, weeping tip of his cock to your entrance, pushing in with neither care, nor restraint.
He sees the way you fist the sheets, face down against the mattress but your cries still managing to reach him. He just doesn’t care. Especially when your familiar warmth encompasses him, pulls him into the here and now.
It’s at this point that Ghost sees why Simon loves being around you so much, loves being with you. In you.
His member protrudes, a bump in your stomach evident like a tombstone. Whenever you try to press it, try to flatten your hand against it to get a feel for just how big it is, he takes your wrists in his hands and presses them against the mattress. The message is clear: you don’t interfere. I’ll cum when I say so, not by your hand.
Ghost doesn’t stop until you’re raw and red and leaking with either his or your juices, a ring of white forming at the base of his shaft where you can’t fit any more of his length inside you. You feel it, pulsating and battering and alive in your middle, feeling as if it’s nudging everything else out the way so it can lie uninhibited inside your warm cavern.
He’s hard and fast, rough yet thorough. He never leaves an inch of you unmarked, unbruised, by the time he’s done. Whether he’s aware or not, you always end up finishing first, your walls tightening and pulsating around Ghost’s cock as he continues to abuse your hole, hitting your most sensitive point over and over again, prolonging your orgasm and leaving you utterly spent yet satisfied.
When Ghost cums, it’s long, hard and hot. So, so hot – as if the all fire of his anger he’s had building up these last few months is now cradled within you, an unspeakable offspring. He never immediately pulls out. No, he waits, hands about your waist, no doubt bruises from where he’s gripped you, where he’s kept you so he can make sure you don’t crawl away.
His load is thick and there’s so much of it – you feel like you’re being filled past full.
If you’re capable and fertile, he often considers not giving you birth control after the fact, rather letting you stay dormant in bed and tying you up so you have no choice but to let his seed take. The idea never fails to send a shiver down his spine, making him hard all over again as the image of you, bedbound and incapacitated by his hand is enough to make him retreat to another room just so he doesn’t act on the fantasy. 
The look on Simon’s face, he often wonders, when he finds you’re marked as Ghost’s, carrying a permanent reminder that he got to you first; when he realises that the creature he entrusts his dirty work to, his militant alter ego, has utterly ravaged and claimed you from the inside out.
The horror. The futility of apology. It’s enough to satiate Ghost for now. Enough, enough.
And with that, he pulls out, taking the blazing heat of his body with him. He leaves you on the bed, ass up, face down, with his cum dripping out of you. Leaves you for Simon to clean up, to deal with. 
And to your side does Simon come rushing, for once Ghost removes his mask, so does he the haze he casts over his unwilling creator, letting him return to humanity. The vague pulsing of his member, the wetness coating it and the sheen of sweat clinging to Simon’s body is enough to let him know – remind him – what’s happened.
He comes to your aid, scooping you up in his arms and tending to you in every way he knows how - in every way that’s routine. He apologises, over and over, for letting Ghost do this you, for letting him have his way with you, for not being able to protect you–
You shush him. Look at him with kind eyes. You tell him you’re happy to do it, that you’d rather it be you than anyone else, that you wouldn’t be doing it if you didn’t love Simon. Which you do. Monumentally. And Simon loves you, too. He just fears that Ghost may be growing to love you, too – in ways he shouldn’t. 
He feels him now, watching you bathe, sweeping over the bruises on your wrists, your hips and waist, the pressure in the back of his head mounting as Ghost lusts for the control to do it all again.
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sugutiva · 2 months ago
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❝ THAT P ★ SSY GOT POWER ! ❞ — G. SATORU
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ᥫ᭡. synopsis : for some reason . . . the strongest sorcerer in the world ( purposely ) got struck by a lust curse.
tags : smut, p in v, oral sex ( f! receiving ), enemies to lovers (?), reader folds quickly LMAO, gojo eats us out against the wall . . . again, hair pulling, pussy spanking, overstimulation, teasing, cowgirl, switch!gojo, slight orgasm denial, creampie, cursing, dirty talk, all lowercase intended, not proofread !
a/n : if this flops again tumblr is RACIST.
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“ we need you to go talk to gojo satoru, and convince him to come back to jujutsu high.”
oh. so he’s the reason why you’re attending a meeting even though it’s your off day.
your face twists into an expression of displeasure, not only from the burdensome demand of gakuganji and possibly the other higher ups, but from the sound of his gravelly voice ringing throughout the spacious room. nonetheless, you bite your tongue. “ seriously, me? why would i ever do something like that?”
it’s extremely rare as a sorcerer to catch a simple day off, and the fact that you were called in to fetch a man-child to come back to his responsibilities was . . . aggravating. to say the least.
gakuganji continues, “ his disappearance has already gone on further than we’d like,” he takes a pause to lift his head slightly, looking you dead in the eyes. “ so seeing how you’re the only free adult, we chose you to go fetch for him.”
you cross your arms and legs before leaning back in the couch. as he explains in more detail on how there’s an increase of curses, and how no one's teaching the second and first years, ( not like they’d mind ) you start to feel a twinge of sympathy.
sure, you and gojo don’t see eye to eye sometimes, but it was unusual for him to go missing all of a sudden and leave everything behind. ( although he’d eerily fantasize about killing the higher ups whenever he was provoked enough ) you uncross your body before standing up from the couch swiftly.
“ i’ll check on him. but i wouldn’t guarantee a return from him,”
“ great choice, [last name].”
- -
all for jujutsu high and humanity.
giving three loud knocks to his door, you wait, and get no answer in response. “ gojo satoru, can you open up already?” you yell, surely loud enough for him to at least crack the door open. still, you get no answer from the other side.
just as you were casually mapping the outside of his house for an easy way to get inside, the door swiftly opens. there stood the man in question in all of his glory; he wore grey baggy sweats— and it seemed like no boxers underneath because of how his white happy trail seductively peeked out from underneath while the print of his cock was hardly concealed. the upper half of his toned body shined in a coat of sweat while he leaned his upper body against the door frame.
was he exercising. . . or maybe doing something else?
“ you just gonna stare at me after almost breaking my door off it’s hinges?”
shit. he caught you practically gawking at him.
“ i— um. we need to talk,” you gulp, feeling more nervous compared to any other time you’ve talked to him before. “ you‘ve been playing hooky for quite too long now and the higher ups are on my ass about it.”
he stares at you unfazed, you stare back.
but to your surprise, instead of slamming the door in your face and hiding away for longer, he shifts his body over, enough for you to come inside.
“ geez. those hags don’t ever know when to fall back.” he dramatically groans as you hesitantly step in to take your shoes off before walking in further.
vaguely, you swear you felt the weight of his eyes tracing your figure as you walk into his apartment, heading to his living room. you choose to brush it off.
inside it’s modern and creepily bare, like there’s no one actually existing in here— including this alluring scent. it’s not bad but it is heavy, as if a burdensome weight is on your shoulders. definitely musk but the strong scent of cinnamon is also within the mix. again, you brush it off while sinking down into the couch cushions, too late to turn back now.
gojo walks in later than you, and instead of sitting across from you— he plops right next to you, sluggishly resting his long arms on the back of the couch while manspreading, his freakishly lengthy legs invades the little space you have. your face contorts into an expression of outwardly discomfort. “ why’re you sitting right next to me, gojo?”
“ you rudely wake me up by pounding on my door, and now i can’t sit where i want in my living room?” he blows out a breath of air while rolling his eyes with a level of sass that makes you cringe slightly. “ girl. you really don’t have any manners at all. not like that’s a surprise tho—“
” please, let’s just focus on the reason why i came here.” you curtly cut him off, barely refraining yourself from slapping him in the head now that his infinity was off.
you knew he wouldn’t listen in the first place, so the sight of his head hanging off the couch while his leg rocked up and down rhythmically like this was the most boring lecture he had to sit through shouldn’t really piss you off— but it does. you let out an exhausted groan while rubbing your temples to soothe your growing headache. you really wish you hadn’t picked up the phone today. “ do you even care about the effect your disappearance has caused right now? you really are a careless manchi—“
“ i need to fuck you.” he bluntly states.
what? you couldn’t had possibly heard that right.
“ i-i’m sorry?”
he shifts, his body is now upright, contrasting his previous lazy posture. “ you want to know why i’ve been gone?” he waits for you to nod, which you do. “ i got struck by some sort of lust curse, so in order for it to go away, we need to fuck.” you don’t get a chance to fully register his words before his lips are on yours.
you feel him sigh into your mouth, as if you two making out on his couch relieved him from all his frustrations. you can’t deny that you’re into it like how he is, especially when he rolls his raging bulge into the inside of your thigh so desperately— but this isn’t the reason why you came here. obviously gojo thinks otherwise.
“ g-gojo! we can’t,” your voice trembles, and so does your body as you push the white haired man away from you. when he looks back in your eyes, you immediately notice that there’s truly something wrong. his pupils are wildly dilated— to the point where you can barely see his signature blue.
the intensity of his gaze freezes you in place. but you can’t shake off the feeling of being lured in.
almost like he’s hypnotizing you.
“ says who, baby?” his hand creeps down to the waist band of your pants, he tugs on your panties, only letting them go so they can soundly snap back against your skin, making your hips jolt in his grasp. “ don’t deny it now. i bet ya’ she’s gonna be leaking f’me.” the palm of his hand grinds down on your clothed mound.
this time, you’re the one to pull him into a heated kiss, and he matches your energy fully. your nails scratches at his undercut, forcing a needy moan to leave his chest and wander into your awaiting mouth. the kiss is so intense that you don’t realize that he’s taken off your pants along with your underwear until your bare skin touches around his while he carries you into his bedroom.
he presses your back to the wall only to hike you up further on the wall— the way how you’re positioned is that you’re currently using him as your own chair.
“ you do the most. are you really going to eat me out against a wall?” you tut, knowing that you’re not actually against the idea. your question isn’t answered with words, but when he presses moist kisses leading from your thigh to your soaked cunt, you think you have a inkling of the answer.
he blows on your erect clit before focusing his attention on your flustered face. “ for someone who was pushing me away . . . you sure are soaked.” your mouth opens, most likely with a bratty response. although it’s quickly forgotten when he presses a spit filled peck on your clit. there’s a line of spit that connects him to your cunt as he pulls away. “ ‘m not tryna embarrass you. just find it quite adorable.”
“ w-will you ever just shut up, and eat me out? i’m sick of hearin’ your mouth, gojo.” you murmur, watching as his grin grows impossibly wider— the bastard is riling you up on purpose just for his twisted entertainment. there will be a time later on tonight where you’ll get him back for that.
but for now, you need to feel his tongue mapping out every inch of your pussy.
he huskily chuckles, you want to ignore the effect that the sound does to you. “ heh. i got you baby,” with that, he rolls his tongue out on your heat, licking a fat stripe of spit in the direction to your pulsing clit. your body shudders as you finally get what you desire; your sworn enemy eating you out while your figure is trapped between him and a wall.
and oh is he nasty with it.
“ s-shit— you’re doing s’gooood, satoru!” you lewdly whine out, the knuckles of your hands turn a shade brighter than your skin as you tug on his pristine hair. moving away from your clit, he focuses on sloppily flicking your opening with his tongue. “ satooooru!”
for this being your first time hooking up together, gojo is uncannily skilled at fucking you dumb with only his tongue. it makes you yearn for what else he can do to you next.
gojo pulls back from your cunt, the lower half of chin is alluringly coated with your juices and his saliva. “ damn. she tastes too fuckin’ good. and why have you been keeping this away from me for so long?” he mutters to himself rather than you. his hand comes down on your cunt as a harsh smack, he delivers another and another before waiting for your reaction. when more slick dribbles out your hole, sliding down to your ass, it makes him want to go beyond feral.
“ looks like i’ve got myself a masochistic slut, heh.” no more is said as his mouth resumes back on your pussy, throwing you back into that wave of euphoria. the muscles in your thighs twitch, drawing him closer to your syrupy madness.
satoru moans, his hips bucks up on the wall as if to find some friction while splitting you down with that wonderful tongue. your toes are curled, back lifting from off the wall and every strangled moan you yell makes him thrust his tongue faster, along with his hips— the distant pleasure coming from fucking the wall is not near enough to make him cum, not that he’s worried about that, as your hypnotic taste is making him shamefully pussydrunk.
“ oh. ooooh, ‘m so close, you’re gonna make me cum!” you pant out while instinctively clamping your walls around his tongue shoving itself in. he’s more determined than ever, messily tongue fucking you while kneading your ass in his big hands. how he manages to hold you up by your ass only, it’s still a wonder.
your hips have a mind of their own as they grind down for your sweet release, and at this rate you don’t know if your pulling him away or closer to you. but when he hollowly sucks at your empty hole, that triggers your powerful orgasm.
“ d-don’t stooop! i’m cumming!” your eyes clamp shut as you throw your head back before bursting out into trembles. satoru continues to listen to your earlier words. he delivers kitten licks onto your clit just begging for his attention. “ satoru— i’m too sensitive,”
he doesn’t care to listen.
finally, he comes up from the spot between your thighs as your recovering from yet another messy orgasm. “ okay messy girl, as much as i love eating you out— i think you should show me some attention too.”
wordlessly, he carries your limp body over to his bed— in the traditional bridal carry this time. you think it’s somewhat romantic, but of course gojo has to ruin it by chucking you on piece of furniture, making you meet his incredibly soft duvets face first. “ the fuck?” you gain composure by lifting yourself on your hands and knees, looking back to throw him the nastiest glare you could muster. “ i swear at this point you’re getting no pussy, gojo.”
he pays your words no mind. as he pulls his pants down, his cock uncontrolledly springs free from it’s restraint. fuck, it was so big and pretty. the sheer length will no doubtfully have you feeling over cockdrunk, his tip flushes an angry red that makes your mouth water.
“ what about not getting any pussy?” he cheekily mocks you, stroking the head of his cock to smear the pearly pre-cum down his length.
“ shut the fuck up and get on the bed.” you whine, struggling by the second to keep up your bratty facade. the sound of the bed dipping under his body weight makes you flip over on your elbows and spread your legs wide for his gaze.
complying, he still rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue. “ geez. okay daddy,” his hands grabs you by the thighs and yanks you on your back completely. he presses the slit of his head against your clit, watching with delight as your folds compliments each side of his cock like a lewd hotdog. “ yer’ so mouthy but that’s expected, gonna have to fix that little problem though.”
“ i’m the mouthy one? that’s real fuckin’ funny coming from the one who cannot shut up for one second to save his life.” you bitterly cackle, although your voice comes out shaken from the audible clicks of your pussy getting played with. when he slightly dips into the warmth of your opening before trailing upwards to your clit again, you resist the urge to strangle him. “ — if you’re teasing me, i’m going to hurt you.”
he rolls his eyes unenthusiastically at the cold stare you give him from underneath your full eyelashes. “ tsk. you’re no fun, baby.” with one swift movement, he’s sinking into your gummy walls with a relieved groan.
maybe, because of the high side effects of the lust curse running it’s course is the reason why satoru finds himself cumming too early with not even a full pump.
and it’s a lot.
“ s-shiiiit— that was t-too early, can’t s-stop!” his body bursts into violent trembles— mimicking your own previously. hot ropes of cum taints your walls with the sensation of his cum while his hands grab at your thighs with a death grip that will for sure leave bruises later, having you sore for days. you think it’s rather endearing how vulnerable he looks.
gojo was just— if not more, surprised than you were.
it feels like forever when he finally comes down from his high, and you feel out of breath just watching him. “ that . . . that was not supposed to h-happen.” he weakly mutters, his head hanging down from embarrassment. somwhat, you’re prideful knowing that only you had him feeling like this.
“ ‘nd all that big talk just for you to be a one pump champ,” now, it’s his turn to weakly glare at you, “ think you can still fuck me? or do i have to ride you?” you grab a fistful of his hair before tugging his face close, to the point where your breath fans over his open, panting mouth. the pain from your dominant actions shoots through his veins and to his sensitive cock, resulting in it twitching greedily in your tense walls. “ am i talking to myself, satoru?”
“ fuck— n-no.”
you smirk, and to satoru you look exceedingly sexy and evil; a deadly combo. “ my good boy,” you peck his lips, letting the grip you have of his hair go so he can pull out of you. when he does, copious amounts of cum immediately pours from your quivering hole in a thick, flowing motions with a loud popping sound to accompany. with just one load he’s managed to stuff you full.
he flips over while hugging your body close to his. relaxing his figure, he watches as you aligned yourself against him, your shirt long gone by now, and your body is beautifully presented to him with the marks he inflicted upon the free reign of skin.
you could tell he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.
“ don’t— don’t think about teasing me now, not when i need you this m-much.” he briefly forgets how to breath as your sticky folds rubs against the head of his cock, drowning in more cum until it reaches his base.
“ oh, you don’t like your own game being played on you?” you grunt, rolling your hips sensually down. his adam’s apple bobs as swallows his growing anticipation he can barely contain. but after a few dragged out moments of teasing, resulting in you feeling torturously edged as well— you finally sink down on him. “ fuuuck . . .” you whisper to yourself.
you lips tremor as you pause, allowing yourself to being properly stretched out as your pussy invites in as much as possible. this isn’t the first time you’ve had sex with someone, but the hefty length of satoru makes you pause before going on. when the dull stinging pain shifts to that familiar mouth watering pleasure, you find your pace. satoru hands fly out to grip the sheets with faux serenity as your pussy continues to clamp around him like a vice grip.
“ haaah, you just couldn’t w-wait to fuck yourself silly on my cock, huh?” his voice is eerily clear, as if he wasn’t a overstimulated mess from his previous release. you make fiery eye contact with him, the way how his eyes are hazed but still feel so heavy on your body makes you almost go numb. “ this is everything i needed baby, shit!”
“ that mouth never knows when to s-shut up.” you mutter out, before the action of you bouncing up and down on his lap increases viciously. the sinful sounds of your skin clashing down against his, every inch of him knocking on your sweet spot, and both of your sweet moans combined together sounded like an erotic song that gojo would never get tired of hearing. “ sa— mmph, satoruu!” gojo has the most cockiest but pathetic expression right now; his brows are furrowed while he shamelessly watched you recoil your body against his.
“ i . . . i think ‘m close, keep on rocking your hips like that— fuck, you’re so sexy!” his tip spasms in your tight space as a warning as of what’s about to come.
but suddenly, you stop moving. edging him on with a cheeky smirk.
you cut him off before he can talk, “ we can’t have you cumming just yet ‘toru.” he’s surprised he didn’t bust right then and there when you said his nickname in that sultry tone. you give him a vigorous show by rubbing two fingers on your pearl for his view.
“ such’a needy slut playing with her pussy f’me.” he bites his lip as he watches your clit swirl under your ministrations, his orgasm is on the back burner of his mind while he watches you. “ roll it just like that— there ya fuckin’ go, babe.”
once you feel your pleasure heighten inevitably, you resume back to bouncing on gojo. this time, with your hand advancing rapidly on your clit, and his calloused hands squeezing your ass heart fully. he effortlessly looks attractive underneath you, his chest and neck are flushed a sweaty mess as strands of his white hair sticks to his damp skin around his forehead.
“ wan’a cum with you, toru.” you lean over to nip his throat, your pussy contracts when you feel his breath hitch. “ want to feel you s-stuff me full, pleaseee fuck!”
it’s unintentional, but your whiny voice alone drags him into a powerful orgasm.
it’s not long before you follow suit.
“ my nasty good girl,” his voice comes out as an harsh whisper before he grabs your hair to tug you closer to his face. the kiss you share together is no short of animalistic; it’s all teeth with tongue, and when you pull away your lip is bleeding, tainting his own an alluring deep shade of red.
you force your hips to continue rocking against him due to the frenzy. increased squelches resonates through the fuzzy room along with your combined moans. you feel sparks of electricity shoot through your limbs, your cunt squeezes more slick out, creating a translucent ring around the hefty base of his cock.
there must be something in the air, seeing how many orgasms you pull out of each other.
for some reason . . . the strongest sorcerer in the world got struck by a lust curse.
and you’re able to bring him back a day later, with just your pussy alone.
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monzabee · 3 months ago
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prison for life - mv1
masterlist ||
Summary: The one where if anybody hurts you, Max is going to prison for life.
Pairing: max verstappen x pregnant!reader 
Word Count: 3.9k
Warnings: fluff, pregnancy, mentions of throwing up, cursing, kinda angsty in some places, jos verstappen
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i’ve been in such a max mood recently that is actually shocking to me, but i just needed some fluffy anything after working on smutty pieces for weeks. i got this idea in my dream and honestly i think it turned out better than i could’ve imagined!! feedback is always appreciated, and my requests are currently open if you want to check that out, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 
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If you would have to choose a word to describe Max, it would be ‘overprotective’, because that’s what he is. It’s not a bad thing, per say. He isn’t overbearing or controlling at all, but he is simply overprotective. And if you thought he was overprotective when the two of you were dating or when you first got married, you have to admit that you were not, at all, prepared for his protectiveness when you told him that you were pregnant. Apart from his initial meltdown over becoming a dad, or rather becoming like his own father, Max has been pretty chill about the whole thing – with the exception being your safety, of course. The underlying problem isn’t the fact that you’re some sort of daredevil because you’re not, the problem is the fact that Max believes that everything is out to get you. 
The olives you wanted to eat for breakfast? Choking hazard.  
The candles you bought for the living room (to be purely decorative, but still)? Fire hazard.  
The pool lounger Victoria thought would be a cute addition to the pool? Drowning hazard.  
The seatbelt in his car that is surprisingly tight? Could be all three, according to Max, given the right (or wrong) circumstances.  
So, yeah, maybe he wasn’t that scared of becoming a dad, but he was surely scared of you being in danger. That’s why you agreed to stay back for the most races this year – you knew he didn’t need to worry about you or your baby’s safety on top of the stress he had to deal with during the usual racing weekend. That was until you realised how much you would miss your boyfriend after almost a month of not seeing him due to a triple header. And so, you did the thing any person with a common sense would do – flying out to see him without telling him beforehand, because what’s the fun in that?  
The sheer look of shock on his face might be the funniest thing you’ve ever seen when you meet him in his driver’s room, but of course Max doesn’t share the same sentiment as you. Because all he chooses to focus is the fact that you were on a plane – a 0.23% risk out of very 7.7 million flights each year, but still. He spends at least half an hour, just checking you over and assuring himself that you and the baby are fine; at some point he decides that you need to go to the nearest hospital to get an ultrasound just to make sure the baby is okay, but you tell him to fuck off and calm his tits down in the kindest way possible. And that’s how the two of you end up on the small couch in his driver’s room, with his arms around you as you lay between his legs, his hands splayed on the swell of your stomach as he caresses the skin through the fabric of your dress. His voice is low as he tells you about his day, mostly media duties since it is only Thursday, and how he thinks putting a cat tree in the nursery is a bad idea (that was your idea initially, but you can see how having two rumbunctious cats hang out in the nursery could cause problems). 
“I also thought about something else,” he mumbles, suddenly busying himself with the flower pattern of your dress instead of looking at you.  
You raise your brows slightly, motioning him to continue, but let out a huff when he doesn’t do so right away. “Come on,” you whine softly, “tell me what it is Maxie.”  
“I don’t want him to get into karting.” His words are soft, mumbled, and most definitely final. You know how Max can be when he puts his mind into it, and this particular topic has been a discussion in your household ever since the two of you found out that you were having a boy. “I don’t want him to go through what I went through.” 
Letting out a soft exhale, you motion Max to six next to you on the couch. “He won’t,” you assure him, voice soft as you give pleading looks at him, “you’re not your father, Max.” He gives you a look that basically begs for you to not dwell on the topic, but you continue despite the look he gives you, “And what if he wants to get into karting? Are you going to tell him no?” 
Max tries his best to ignore the knowing look you give him, knowing very well that he won’t be able to ever say ‘no’ to his son, who already has him wrapped around his finger. “I might do that, you never know.” He grumbles, hiding his face in your hair – though the soft giggles coming from you manages to put a soft smile on his face. “You’re supposed to agree with me, you know, we have to be a united front.”   
“We’ll discuss it when the baby comes, until then, I’ll be the voice of reason.” You emphasise, poking him at his bicep to convey your point. “You feel better now?” 
“Kinda,” he murmurs, leaving small kisses onto the exposed skin of your shoulder as he keeps on murmuring against your skin, “I would feel better if I knew you stayed in bed all day, relaxing.” 
With that, you choke a loud laugh, and motion him to stand up as you try to do it yourself – though, of course, he has to help with the baby bump being in the way of you doing any sort of physical activity. “You’re funny, let’s go get me ice cream.”  
The only response you get back is a confused look from your husband, his head tilted to the side as he eyes you warily. “What does that have to do with anything?” 
“Um, excuse me?” You raise an eyebrow, “Your son,” pointing to your stomach, you emphasise your words, “is craving ice cream right now.”  
Max’s eyes soften instantly, and a smile creeps across his face. He nods, taking your hand gently as he helps you up. “Well, if my son wants ice cream, then ice cream he shall have.” 
You giggle as you both make your way out of the driver’s room, Max's hand never leaving yours. The paddock is bustling with activity, but for a moment, it feels like it's just the two of you, cocooned in your little world. As you approach the nearest concession stand, Max’s protective instincts kick in once again. “Is this ice cream stand safe? How long have they been here? Do they have the proper health certifications?” 
You roll your eyes playfully. “Max, it’s ice cream, not a five-course meal. I’m sure it’s fine.” He sighs but nods, deciding to trust your judgment. After all, you did manage to fly all the way here without incident and somehow alerting him. You both get a generous serving of your favourite flavours, and as you sit down to enjoy your treat, you feel a sense of normalcy and contentment wash over you. 
Max watches you with a tender expression, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and worry. “I know I can be overprotective,” he says softly, reaching out to brush a stray hair from your face, “but it’s only because I love you so much.” 
You smile, leaning into his touch. “I know, Max. And I love you too. But sometimes, you need to trust that everything will be okay. We’ll figure things out together, just like we always do.” 
He nods, his gaze shifting to your belly. “You’re right. I guess I need to talk to my mom.”  
“Why?” You ask, tilting your head to the side in curiosity.  
“Well, she promised me she’d look after you but you’re here, so I think we need to have a talk about not keeping secrets from each other.” He mumbles, dragging a hand down his face. 
You laugh, nudging him playfully. “Oh, Maxie, who do you think helped me with my bags at the airport? Your mom is unsurprisingly a strong woman.” 
He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “I should’ve known better than to think you’d stay put for a whole month.” He sighs, but there’s a smile playing on his lips. “Alright, but next time, at least let me know you’re planning something. My heart can only take so much.” 
Max feels a lot better after tricking you with ice-cream into at least staying put withing the Red Bull hospitality for the day as he gets through his media duties. Max feels a lot better after tricking you with ice cream into at least staying put within the Red Bull hospitality for the day as he gets through his media duties. He periodically checks in, making sure you're comfortable and well-fed. Each time he sneaks a glance your way, you catch him with a knowing smile and a roll of your eyes, and he returns it with a wink. He knows that there is absolutely no reason for him to be checking on you as much as he does, because you’ll be fine in the cool hospitality suite with enough water to keep you hydrated for years, but he can’t help but worry about anything and everything going wrong. And his worries prove to be true when he sees the one person who he definitely doesn’t want around you.  
“What are you doing here?” He asks the approaching figure, “I thought you were not going to be coming to this race but the next one.”  
“Given the drop in your performance in the last few races I thought I should be here for... support.” His dad supplies, eyes finding you behind his son’s back on one of the couches in the hospitality, “And I can see the reason for why you’ve been distracted lately, what is she doing here?”  
Max scoffs, crossing his arms on his chest protectively, “She’s my wife, she is more than welcome to be here.” 
“She’s also a distraction, Max,” his father points out, “you’re going to lose your focus if you keep–” 
Since Max is faster than his father where it matters the most, he cuts him off before he can say anything further. “Leave, I don’t want you here.” 
Max’s father looks taken aback, his eyes widening momentarily before they narrow into a scowl. “Excuse me?” he says, his voice low and dangerous. 
“You heard me,” Max replies firmly, his stance unwavering. “I don’t want you here if you’re going to criticize my wife and stress me out, or worse, stress her out.” 
“You’re being irrational,” his father argues, taking a step closer. “I’m just trying to help you stay focused.” Seeing that his son is not going to back down anytime soon, he points a threatening finger towards him. “I’ll be back on race day, but you better be ready to put in a winning performance,” his father finishes, his voice laced with finality. He turns on his heel and walks away, leaving a tense silence in his wake. 
Max sighs deeply, running a hand through his hair as he watches his father disappear into the crowd. Looking back at you over his shoulder, talking to some interns from the social media team, he can’t help but feel the dread of you having to face his father – which gives him another reason to somehow stop the two of you from running into each other during the weekend.  
On Friday, Max’s luck decides to do him a favour as you tell him that you’re not feeling well enough to go to the track with him for the qualifying, and though it is true that he wants you to be with him, he also realises that this will give him one less thing to worry about. He knows how stressful it can be for you to navigate the bustling paddock and deal with the crowds, especially with the added pressure of possibly encountering his father. 
“You rest up, okay?” he says, his voice full of concern. “I'll be back as soon as I can. If you need anything, just call me.” 
You nod, giving him a reassuring smile. “I will, Max. Good luck today. We'll be cheering you on from here.” 
Max leans down to kiss your forehead gently as he mumbles into your skin, “I love you.”  
“I love you too,” you reply, your voice soft and comforting, “be careful out there, okay?” 
Max has one goal throughout qualifying, and to his team principal’s dismay, it is not being on pole. His one and only goal is to get the session done with as quickly as possible and get back to you as soon as he can. After the session ends, he barely waits for the car to come to a stop before jumping out and heading straight for the hospitality suite. His team notices his urgency but knows better than to question it once he tells them he’ll pay whatever fine the FIA will give him for missing his interviews. 
Bursting through the door, Max finds you resting comfortably on the couch, a cup of tea in your hands. The sight of you immediately calms his racing heart. “Hey,” he says softly, walking over to sit beside you. “How are you feeling?” 
You smile up at him, still in his team gear and the hat he almost never takes off, the warmth in your eyes easing his worries. “Better, now that you're here. How did it go?” 
“Starting on pole,” he replies, mostly in a mumble, taking your hand in his. “But all I could think about was getting back to both of you.” 
You squeeze his hand, your expression tender. “I'm proud of you, Max. You did great.” 
He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Thanks. Let's just relax for the rest of the day, hm? I want to hold you to make sure you’re not getting out of this bed until tomorrow.” 
“You know, I would be happier about this proposal if it was until different circumstances,” you sigh, earning a laugh from him as he pulls you towards his chest, being careful not to spill your tea, of course. Why? Because it is a safety hazard, of course. 
As you settle back into the bed together, Max feels a sense of relief wash over him. The stress of the day melts away in your presence, and he realizes how much he needs these quiet moments with you to forget all about the outside world and focus his energy on what actually matters instead. 
The next day, feeling much better, you prepare to join Max at the track for the race. He’s still concerned but reassured by your determination to support him. As you arrive at the paddock together, Max is more attentive than ever, keeping an eye out for his father in hopes of trying to prevent the two of you running into each other. Navigating through the bustling paddock, Max keeps a protective arm around your waist, and a hand on your bump whenever the two of you stand somewhere talking to someone, guiding you through the throngs of people. His eyes constantly scan the crowd, his jaw set in a determined line. The other drivers and team members greet you warmly, and you return their smiles, feeling the anticipation that surrounds you. 
“Max, relax a bit,” you whisper, squeezing his hand as you notice the tension in his posture. 
He glances down at you, his expression softening slightly. “I just want to make sure everything’s okay.” 
“I know,” you reply, reaching up to stroke his cheek, “but we’re here to enjoy the race and support you. Try to focus on that.” 
He nods, taking a deep breath as both of you make your way to the Red Bull hospitality area. The team welcomes you with open arms, and you settle into a comfortable spot where you can watch the preparations for the race. He asks one of the interns to keep an eye on you, which he thought he was being sly whilst doing it, but you of course catch him in the corner of your eye. That’s when you realise the man walking towards him, your eyes meeting in nothing short of disdain for each other.  
You stiffen slightly, your hand tightening around Max’s hand as he turns just in time to see his father approaching, his protective instincts kicking into high gear as he lets go of your hand and decides to wrap his arm around you protectively instead. 
“Max,” Jos says, his tone neutral but carrying an underlying condescension. “We need to talk before your race begins, walk with me.” 
Max's grip tightens around you for a moment before he reluctantly loosens his hold. “What is it, Dad?” he asks, his voice steady but tinged with irritation. 
Jos's eyes flicker to you before focusing back on Max. “I wanted to discuss strategy, but I can see this isn't a good time.” 
Max's jaw clenches, his protective instincts on high alert. “If it's important, we can talk here. I’m not leaving her side.”  
Jos sighs, clearly frustrated. “Fine, if that's how you want it.” 
Max’s arm remains firmly around you as his father steps closer. “Make it quick,” Max insists, his tone leaving no room for argument. If other people were to see your eyes moving from one Verstappen to the other, they’d probably think you are watching a tennis match, though the situation in front of you is certainly more tense than that. 
Jos glances at you once more before addressing Max. “I just wanted to remind you to stay focused. Pole position is a great start, but you need to keep your head in the race.” 
Max's eyes narrow, and he lets out a scoff, “I know how to do my job, no need for reminder. Anything else?” 
Jos shakes his head, his expression a mix of disappointment and resignation. “Just don’t let distractions cost you the win.” 
“What is that supposed to mean?” Max hisses, taking a step towards his father as he gently pushes you behind himself. You have to put a hand against his chest to slow him down, though that doesn’t prove to be a sufficient prevention method. “I already told you; she is my wife, and he is not going anywhere so you better get that into that damaged brain of yours.” 
“Max,” you try to plead with him, “please, not before your race.”  
He gives you a look over his shoulder for a short moment before turning back towards his father. His jaw is set as he looks at the man in front of him. “I’ll only tell you this one more time. When she’s here with me, you don’t show up. If you do show up, you don’t come near her, you don’t talk to her, you don’t even look at her.” Another step taken towards his father has you tightening your hold on him, but he still manages to convey his message. “Try something like this again, and you won’t be in my life anymore let alone my son’s.” 
Jos's lips press into a thin line, his eyes darting to you briefly before settling back on Max. “Fine,” he repeats, his tone colder. “Just remember what’s at stake every time you get behind the wheel.” 
Max stands his ground, his eyes locked onto his father's, unwavering. “I know exactly what's at stake, and I don't need you reminding me. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a race to focus on.” 
Max stands his ground, his eyes locked onto his father's, unwavering. “I know exactly what's at stake, and I don't need you reminding me. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a race to focus on.”
It’s not the first time Max has stood up to his father, not by any means. But you can tell that this time affects him in a different way. The weight of the words exchanged and the implications for their future relationship linger in the air. You can feel the tension radiating from Max as he watches his father walk away, and it takes a moment for him to relax his posture and turn back to you. “Please tell me something that will calm me down so I don’t somehow do something that would put me to jail.”
“Okay,” you singsong, quickly positioning yourself in front of him so that you can fix him with a strict look on your face. “You are not doing something that will put you into prison, period.”
“I’m going to need a very good reason because all I want to do right now is follow him to his car and punch him.” Unfortunately for you, the way his jaw is set is a telling sign that, no, Max would actually do something like this given the circumstances.
“There is no sim racing in prison.” You try to provide, giving him a weak smile.  
Max's lips twitch into a small, reluctant smile at your words, the tension in his jaw easing slightly. “No sim racing in prison, huh? Do you honestly think that would keep me from doing something stupid?” 
“I panicked!” You exclaim, hitting him on his chest lightly as he laughs at you silently. “How are you supposed to help me raise our son,” you point to your stomach to emphasise your point, “if you’re in prison, huh?”
Max's smile grows wider, the tension in his posture finally starting to melt away. “Okay, okay, you’ve got a point,” he says, placing his hands on your shoulders and looking into your eyes. “I need to be here for both of you. But it’s so damn hard to ignore him.” 
You reach up and cup his face in your hands, your eyes soft and filled with understanding. “I know, but you’re stronger than him. And you have more important things to focus on. Like winning this race and getting me more ice cream on our way back to the hotel.” 
He takes a deep breath, nodding slowly as he lets out a soft chuckle. “You’re right. I can’t let him get to me. Not today.” 
“Exactly,” you say, giving him a reassuring smile, “I usually am.” 
Max laughs, the sound lightening the mood even more. “Yes, you usually are,” he agrees, pulling you closer for a brief kiss. “Thank you for always knowing how to calm me down.” 
“That’s what I’m here for,” you say, resting your forehead against his. “Now, go out there and show everyone what you can do. We’ll celebrate with ice cream afterward.” 
“Deal,” he replies, his eyes twinkling with affection and determination. With one last squeeze, he lets you go and turns towards his team, his focus now fully on the race ahead. “But I feel like I need to let you know that I would definitely go to prison for life for you.” 
You laugh, shaking your head. “Don’t you have a race to win, Verstappen?” 
He grins, giving you one last kiss before heading off to prepare for the race, giving you a grin over his shoulder as he starts to move away, “So, I’ll get the rest of that kiss after the race, then?” 
“Yeah, Max,” you let out a breathy laugh, your eyes not leaving his for a moment, “after the race!” 
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sttm99 · 11 months ago
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Part 2 here!
'Fuck.'
It had been just two nights since you'd given him head in the dark of his dorm room, and Bakugo hadn't been able to rid his mind of the sensation ever since.
He knew it was stupid to even agree to it. You were the one girl in class he felt comfortable enough to talk about anything with. Be it grades, his fears and even more sexual topics. It also helped that he knew you wouldn't ever judge him for anything.
You were his closest friend; more so than Kirishima. And he liked that... he liked that he has someone he could trust with his life, someone he could relate with so effortlessly.
And you felt the same way with him. You told him everything; every little secret, every dirty detail, and he never laughed or judged.
Which was why you both were in his room, many hours past his bedtime, sitting opposite each other on his bed as you recounted your most recent almost-sexual endeavor.
"-and it was so awkward cause it was just hanging there in my face and I didn't know what to do." You groaned out, with your body hunched over, face covered with your palms as you recounted your experience in the school's storage room with a General Studies boy you'd been seeing casually.
Bakugo chuckled at your demeanor from where he was. "Yeah then maybe you should have stopped him when you saw him undoing his fucking belt."
You glared at him through the cracks between your fingers.
"Seriously," he laughed. "If you didn't wanna give him head, you should have told him the moment you entered the closet."
You groaned and fell back unto his bed. "The thing is I want to do it."
You turned your head to stare up at Bakugo.
"So why didn't you?"
You groaned again. "I don't know. I mean... look, I wanna be able to make the guy I like feel good, you understand. And I really thought I wanted to give him head, but then he was pulling his jeans down- and I was getting cold feet and then he pulled down his boxers and I wanted to run away right then....
"But I pushed through- and I got down... and it was just staring at my face and-"
"Maybe you just don't wanna do it." Bakugo raised his brow, cutting you off from your rambling.
You frowned. "Maybe. I mean, I think about giving head...and I wanna do it, and then I get an opportunity and I panic. You're probably right."
There was silence for a moment, before Bakugo shifted in his position, pulling his knees higher up, closer to his body, and leaning his forward.
"Or maybe... you don't wanna do it with him."
You furrowed your brows. "Meaning..? I don't really like him or what?"
Bakugo shrugged, "I mean, do you?"
You began sitting up. "Don't I?"
"Come on, Y/N." He raised a brow, giving you an unimpressed look, "You don't even text him unless he texts you."
"Yeah because he's always texting me."
"See! You even say it like you're frustrated." Bakugo jutted his arms out at you.
You paused, sitting up and pondering it.
Bakugo groaned. "Listen, I know you, okay? You- frankly, you're horny... more so than most people-"
You scowled at him.
"-and the fact that you don't even let him put his hands under your fucking skirt most times should tell you that you're probably not all that sexually attracted to him."
You stared at Bakugo, eyes narrowed as you began to see his point. "I guess you're on to something."
"Look," he began, "I honestly think you're just with him because of how aggressively he pursued you. And that's fucking dumb."
You pouted. "I guess... so now I have to find someone else to practice head with."
"Why do you wanna learn how to give head?" He laughed.
"Cause the girls were talking about giving head one time and I wanna be able to join in conversations." I groaned out, exasperated, and flopped back unto your back.
Bakugo took a moment to look you over, before adjusting his shorts and clearing his throat.
"I can give you pointers if you want."
Silence.
"What?" You mumbled, sitting back up, with your weight on your palms and narrowing your eyes at him.
He scowled at you. "I'm not repeating myself."
You rolled your eyes and hissed at his stubbornness. "You idiot."
"But..." You started slowly. "If you're offering to give me tips on sucking dick, I don't mind."
He shifted a bit. "Yeah... well- it'll only work if you're sexually attracted to me. If not, it'll just be like with that guy earlier- and shit would be awkward." He was looking away now.
"Wanna find out?"
And that was how he found himself heaving against his headboard with his shorts and boxers flung at the far end of his bed.
"Shitshit- fuck Y/N."
His hands were fisted into your hair, knees raised in the hair and thighs spread on either side of your head, as you laid on your stomach before him, nose pressed into his dark blonde pubic hair and lips wrapped tightly around his dick.
His eyes were blown wide, lips parted as grunts forced their way out his mouth.
It was just bordering on too much; the sensation of your mouth, and he'd suddenly realised how seriously you'd taken his analogy.
-"Consider it a bottle of smoothie or something, and there's that chunk that can't pass through the bottle mouth properly, so you're trying to suck it out." He'd said, holding his already hard dick against your cheek.
"That sounds stupid, Katsuki." You retorted, as you scowled up at him.
"That's the best I got, I ain't some sex therapist, okay!"-
"Oh shit- you're good," he groaned out, head thrown back and thighs quivering. "Fuck- fuck! Fuck, you're fucking good, baby. Just like that, yeah..!"
His grip on your hair tightened, pushing you down on his dick so he could feel the sliding of your tongue on his shaft as he dipped into your throat.
It didn't help that you were drooling all over him- and yourself-, your hand cupping his balls and squeezing softly.
He was going into overdrive, thrusting up unto your mouth, his eyes rolling back as he slipped down your throat over and over again, and he moaned as he felt you gag, your throat constricting against his tip.
He brought his head forward to peek over at you.
"Slut," he groaned out, eyeing your positioning; one hand infront of you, playing with his balls, and the other stretched underneath your body, fingers dipping into your sleepshorts. "You fucking slut- you like this shit, don't you?"
You moaned around his dick, vibrations coursing round his veins and your eyes looking up to meet his; lids hanging heavy and pupils blown out as you sucked on his cock.
He came heavy- hard. With spasming thighs and choked out groans as he spurted his seed down your throat.
It was a lot... too much. He kept spurting out his cum and his sight was blurry as he looked at you.
Now he couldn't look at you without remembering your stupid, fucked expression when you were between his legs. And it's weird, because all you're doing is grinning an Sato as you hover around him whilst he bakes.
It's stupid. He knows it is.
You don't even like him that way.
Part 2 has been posted here!
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giannaln4 · 4 months ago
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Sick
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lando norris x fem reader
summary: Your sickness got in the way of a romantic day Lando had planned for the both of you, but to him, making you feel better was way more important than anything. (3.1k words)
warnings: stablished relationship, sick!reader, mentions of throw up, extremely cheesy, fluff
a/n: i was supposed to post this last week when the request was made, i'm sorry it took me so long anon but i hope you like it! also i did make it a little longer and more dramatic than i had to. also this is the first request i post!! i have one more but please keep sending more ideas, i love reading what you have in mind
check out the original request here!
-> Prequel
↺ back to navigation— send me a request!
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Lando had been sick last week, and you did everything to take good care of him, as much as you could. You carried medications with you, made sure he drank enough water, and gave him tea to help him feel better. You even cuddled him every night to help him sleep.
He was extremely grateful that you made sure to take good care of him. Having to give everything on track sure made it a little difficult, but he did get better eventually, and he said it was thanks to you.
What you never considered, though, was the fact that his sickness would get to you, but the next week, you felt it, and it was even more evident the night after the Austrian Grand Prix.
For some reason, it hit you harder, and the fact that you had been travelling so much didn’t help. You wanted nothing more than to sleep for days until the sickness went away, but Lando had other plans. With how busy he usually is, he always makes you his priority when he’s away from the track, so before going to bed, he shared the plans he had for the next day, including some activities that required you to get ready and leave the comfort of your home.
You both valued your time together, and you could tell how excited he was to take you out and spend the day with you, something that would also help him to take his mind off the events that took place that weekend, so you said yes.
The next morning, you felt him leave the bed, kissing your forehead goodbye as you turned around to face him.
“I have a little something to do before our date, but you can meet me at the restaurant so we can have breakfast together, yeah?” He whispered. You just nodded, and he kissed you again, whispering a little ‘I love you’ before leaving your room.
You went back to sleep as soon as he left, but the sound of your alarm woke you up an hour later. You grunted as you turned it off, looking at the time, knowing you had to start getting ready if you wanted to make it on time for your date, but your body felt so heavy that you couldn’t even leave the bed. 
Your current state was unfortunate, to say the least. A pounding headache, a runny nose, a sore throat, constant sweating, and intense body pain. There was no way you could go out.
It broke your heart to have to cancel your day with Lando, but you knew your body couldn’t take it and that he would understand.
Before notifying your boyfriend that you wouldn't make it, you looked up your symptoms to make sure you didn’t need to seek medical attention. The last thing you wanted was to end up at the hospital; you never liked them. You quickly came to the conclusion that it was a simple cold. You should’ve seen it coming; not only did you take care of Lando while he was sick, but you hadn’t been feeling the best the last couple of days and brushed it off, thinking you were just tired.
You sent him a long text explaining that you were sick and apologising a million times for cancelling the romantic day he had planned, feeling terrible for failing him.
You fell back asleep almost immediately, but sadly, not for long. Your body temperature suddenly dropped, making you shiver, so you brought up every blanket and tried to cover your entire body with them, but stopped when you suddenly felt hot again.
You were sure you had never been this sick; you were uncomfortable, your throat was incredibly dry, and your whole body was sticky from sweat. It even hurt to sneeze. You let out a loud moan in discomfort, and a few seconds later, you heard the door open.
“Sorry, I didn’t know if you were awake, and I didn’t wanna bother you,” Lando said softly, entering the room. He was holding a few blankets and pillows that covered his face, but you knew he had a worried look on his face. You covered yourself again, up to your head; you didn’t want him to see you like this, not when your hair was an absolute mess and your sleeping shirt looked like you took a shower in it.
“What are you doing here? I thought you had something to do,” you asked under the blankets.
His eyes softened when they hit the lump on the bed as he placed the stuff by your feet. “Don’t worry about that; I’m done for the day.” He approached you and kneeled next to you. “Hey, how bad is it?”
“It’s bad. I don’t wanna get you sick again,” you replied, your throat hurting every time you spoke.
“You’ll be happy to know that I don’t care.” He joked, but you remained silent. “I assume you didn’t have any breakfast yet.”
“No”
"Well, I bought you some soup. You should eat it while it’s still hot, it will be good for you.” He stared at the blankets, waiting for you to come out or at least say something "Baby, come on, let me see you.”
You appreciated him being there to take care of you; it truly warmed your heart, and all you wanted to do was show him how thankful you were, but what if he got sick again because of you? What if you look so bad right now that he will break up with you on the spot? “I don’t look good,” you finally muttered.
“What?” He chuckled, thinking you were joking.
“I’m sweating an insane amount; I can feel my hair sticking to my face.”
“Let me braid your hair so you feel less sticky on the face. I promise you’ll feel better.”
You thought about it for a moment and figured he wouldn’t leave even if you directly asked him to, so you uncovered your face slowly and shyly looked at him. “I feel really ill.”
“I know, baby. Tell me what hurts.”
“Everything. My entire body, the headache is terrible, and I get really cold, but after a second, I feel like I’m boiling.”
He touched your forehead as soon as he noticed your blushed face. “Baby, you’re really hot.”
“I know that,” you joked with a smirk on your face.
Lando rolled his eyes but couldn’t contain his laughter. “Good to know your sense of humour remains untouched.” He stood up and left the room, coming back in a heartbeat as he held a bowl of soup. “You’re gonna eat your soup while I braid your hair and I promise it will make you feel at least a little bit better.”
“My hair is all covered in sweat, though.” You sat on the bed, waiting for him to give you the soup.
“That’s okay. It’s hot, so please be careful.” You carefully took the bowl from his large hands, and you could see the steam that came off of it.
“Thank you,” you whispered, your eyes avoiding his as you blew on the hot liquid.
“You might feel hotter for a moment, but this is good; you need a lot of fluids. Now, I’m gonna sit behind you, okay?” You nodded, making enough space for him.
He struggled a little to get behind you, moving softly so he didn’t make you spill any of the soup. “Are you comfortable?” He asked when he finally settled.
“Yes”
“Ok, should I do one or two?” He started brushing your hair. You were right; you were sweating a lot, but he didn’t care; he just wanted to take proper care of his girlfriend, just like you did when he was sick. 
“Two”
“Okay. They might not turn out the best, though. I’m not a great hairstylist, but they will help.” You chuckled, knowing he was right, but that was the least of your worries. 
You stayed like that for a few minutes. It didn’t take him long to figure out how to put two braids on you without pulling your hair or making your headache worse. "Done,” he said, getting back on his feet and taking a good look at how you looked with braided hair. His heartbeats began to increase. “You look really cute,” he said as he tilted his head, admiring you.
Your face was burning, and it wasn’t the fever. “Thank you. I actually do feel much better.” And you did; you were surprised at how lighter your head felt without all that hair resting on your face or shoulders.
“See? I told you.” He then kissed his fingertip and tapped your nose with it, making you melt at his touch ”Finish your soup. I’m gonna see if we still have that humidifier.”
He stepped out of the room once again, leaving you alone. Somehow, you already felt better, even though everything hurt the same. But you had to admit that the hot soup was a good call.
Once you were done with it, you laid back down carefully, not wanting to ruin the freshly styled hair. And only a few minutes later, you heard the door again, “No luck with the humidifier, but this will help too.” You paid attention to his hands. He was holding a bucket and a dry cloth in one hand and a bottle of water and some pills in the other. “Just this one last thing, and I’ll let you go back to sleep,” he said, as if he was bothering you; you didn’t feel like he was. If anything, it was the other way around, and you should be the one apologising. He put down the bucket next to the bed and waited for you to sit again, this time paying attention to your damp shirt. “Why don’t you change into some new clothes?”
You looked down at your shirt and felt embarrassed when you noticed how much it looked like you had been drowned in a rainstorm. It didn’t look that bad before, but it must’ve been the hot liquids. “Okay,” you agreed, about to get up, but he stopped you.
He wandered around your shared room, grabbing clean clothes that he believed would be comfortable for you to wear. He didn’t want you to feel too hot or too cold again, so he went for a happy medium. A shirt and underwear. You probably shouldn’t deal with too many layers anyway. “Here, I’ll help you change.”
He helped you with everything, which you were really thankful for since your body was too weak and in pain to do it by yourself. Tossing the dirty clothes somewhere in the room, he proceeded to grab the pillows he had previously set on the bed and started arranging them around you to make your uncomfortable state a little more pleasant.
“Are you comfortable?” He asked, looking down at you, and you nodded in response, “Sure?”
"Positive.” Even your voice was weak.
After you were settled, he grabbed the pills and handed them to you, going for the water bottle next “This is for your headache.” He waited for you to take them and watched you get comfortable again. He then reached into the bucket and completely submerged the cloth, making sure all the excess water was cleared before moving it away from the bucket. He stroked it over your face a few times. “You’re all good now. Why don’t you try to sleep?”
You looked up at him in pure admiration, “Thank you, baby.”
“For what?”
“For taking care of me,” you rasped out.
“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t take care of my sick girlfriend?” You could swear you had literal heart eyes right now. “You took care of me when I was sick, and I´m pretty sure this is my fault.”
“It’s not your fault, but you should probably get out of here. I don’t wanna get you sick again, your home race is next.” 
He shook his head and sat on the chair that was a few feet away from the bed. “What if you need something and I’m not here?”
You smiled at him again, but suddenly remembered what you were supposed to be doing. He must’ve noticed the change in your face. 
“What’s wrong?” He asked, kneeling next to you again as his hand rested on your cheek.
“Are you mad at me?”
“What? Why would I be mad at you?”
“For ruining our date.”
“Darling, we have a lifetime ahead of us. We have plenty of time to go on dates.”
Those words made you feel a million things at the same time, tears threatening to leave your eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you more,” he replied, his smile so big and sincere that his dimples made an appearance. “Try to get some sleep, yeah?”
You went back to sleep, and luckily this time you managed to rest for hours. In the meantime, Lando stayed on the bed next to you, doing some work to stay busy and awake, while he kept an eye on you in case you needed him. 
The hours went by, and your fever went away, finally. You woke up around 4 PM, slowly opening your eyes and squinting at the sudden brightness.
You scanned the room looking for Lando, but he was nowhere to be found. You figured it made sense that he left. You didn’t really expect him to stay there all day and waste his free day just to be with you.
You tried to get up, but your body still felt heavy. You groaned in pain and fell on your back again, strangely still feeling tired even after sleeping for hours. Before you could try again, Lando was entering the room.
“You came back,” you managed to say.
“Yeah, sorry. I was just getting you some tea.” He approached you and touched your forehead, relieved that you weren’t hot anymore. “How are you feeling?”
"Better,” you replied, not so sure you wanted him to get worried. “I guess my throat still hurts.”
“I figured, but this honey and lemon tea will help with that.” He smiled at you but when you didn’t move, he could feel the worry come back to him “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t like tea.”
“Tell your cold that.” You pouted like a little kid, but Lando’s face remained neutral as he waited for you to take the cup. “I know you don’t like tea, but I promise this will help. Besides, weren’t you giving me tea all the time when I was sick?” 
You gave in and took it, knowing he was right, and honestly, you would do anything to ease your sore throat.
You started drinking it, slowly but surely. It didn’t taste as bad as you remembered, and you started wondering if your mom was just bad at making tea. “Would you cuddle with me? If it’s not too gross.” You asked out of nowhere.
“Gross? Why-?”
“Because I have been sweating a lot, and it’s not like I took a shower yet,” you explained, a little embarrassed.
“Were you grossed out when I was the sick one asking for cuddles?”
You answered immediately, “No, but you weren’t this sick.”
“C’mon, don’t be silly.” He was happy you wanted to cuddle. Since he got there in the morning, he was concerned that you just wanted him out of there. Carefully, he got in bed with you, sitting against the headboard and getting into a comfortable position. He waited for you to lay down and nestled you between his legs, with your back against his front.
“Thank you for staying with me. I feel much better with you.”
“Really? Because for a moment there, it felt like you didn’t want me here.”
“I do, I really do. I just-” You stopped for a moment to think about your words “I don’t wanna be a burden.”
“Y/N, you know I would never think that.” He was brushing your check.
“Still, you wasted your free day and stayed here all day… for me. We couldn’t even go out like you wanted to.” You then felt guilty about your realisation. “Did you eat something today?”
“I did; I ordered something while you slept. I wanted to get some lunch for you too, but I wasn't sure for how long you’d be asleep. Are you hungry?”
“Not really,” he nodded, even though you couldn’t see him. “I’m still tired.”
Lando had been sick before, and he knew it was exhausting to deal with it, but he doesn’t remember a cold taking him down like that. Still, he agreed to stay there with you while you went to sleep. Again.
A while went by, and he didn’t notice when you started to drift off, but when he felt you shivering on top of him, he opened his eyes quickly.
You were freezing cold, to the point where your teeth were chattering, but your skin was so hot that he could melt chocolate on your forehead. He knew that your fever coming back and your temperature going up so quickly were bad signs.
“Y/N?” He whispered, softly moving you, “Y/N, are you okay?”
“Mhm?” You hummed. You were holding the blanket tighter and closer to your body.
“How are you feeling?” He kept a low voice, not wanting to overwhelm you.
“I’m freezing.” He was about to embrace you again, but was interrupted when you abruptly sat on the bed. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”
He followed your actions and reached down for the bucket that was still next to the bed and placed it between your legs. ‘Not good,’ he kept thinking, rubbing your back for comfort “If that’s the case, then you’re worse than I thought, sweetheart; we might have to go to the doctor.” You didn’t like the seriousness of his voice.
“I don’t like hospitals.”
“Well, I don’t care whether you like it or not; your fever is coming back and you’re feeling nauseous. I don’t think that’s normal for a cold. You are literally shaking.”
“I’ll be fine. I just need to sleep a little more.”
“I know you don’t want to, but we really need to see a doctor.” You didn’t say anything, hoping he would just forget about that, but of course he wouldn’t. “Everything is gonna be okay. You’re here with me right now, aren’t you?” You stayed silent. “Come on, I’m gonna take you to the hospital, and I promise you’ll feel better, okay?” You nodded. You knew he was taking care of you, good care of you, but anything related to sickness, doctors, or hospitals scared you for some reason. “Hey, I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you. You’re safe with me. I promise,” he said, raising his pinky in front of you, satisfied when you locked it with your own.
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sillygoosealert · 4 months ago
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Weird thought, but imagine being Sukuna's favorite person/concubine once but someday he brings someone home or replace you, so then you die(obviously, your human) so then sukuna kinda felt heartbroken.
Now let's travel back to current timeline where sukuna is in yuji's body, Gojo decided to let his students meet his fiancee only for sukuna to be shocked cause it's reader reincarnated.
Once more to see you
Not a weird thought at all, silly ❤️
Sukuna x AFAB reader (for like a paragraph or two) Satoru Gojo x reader
pregnant! Reader, stress, suicidal thoughts, thoughts of self-mutilation, body issues, big BIG warning for pregnancy and dying and so many other things just be cautious, please. Angst NO COMFORT ‼️, uhh unless you take the whole lobotomy route as comfort then yeah happy ending or wtv
Loud moans and barbaric grunts echo through the castle- originating from Sukuna’s chamber
All you can do is sit outside the door and listen as you wait to see him
The newest concubine is with him as of now
She looked similar to you- but much thinner, almost how you looked before
Her face emits a sense of pure life and hope, a rare find
Your bulging stomach is more than noticeable, as you are now 4 months pregnant
Thinking of having a baby with him is a terrifying thought- for so many reasons
Whether he will continue to keep you after you give birth
If you will live after you give birth
The baby is massive so far, much bigger than any human child
You aren't even sure if your body can continue to manage nurturing the baby much further past this point
Sitting outside the door quickly became too much and standing was out of the question
It was best to just find a better time later to talk, he doesn't prioritize you over..anything if you think about it
In fact, Sukuna wouldn’t gaze in your direction even if you were to bleed out and slowly die, so, you go to your separate bathroom to start a bath
The thought of laying face first in the water and drowning yourself crosses your mind, but it goes away as you really think about it
If it didn't work, the punishment of living would be much too severe for it to be worth anything
The thought of living also crosses your mind, would it really be worth it?
To carry his child, and then to watch as he becomes his father?
If you didn't lose the weight would he be disgusted with you?
Just as you are about to leave for your room, he comes out, interrupting your thoughts
The woman is beside him, and he guides her with a hand on the small of her back
It's not rough nor gentle, the hand that pushes you out of the way as they walk down the hall
But the mental feel of it is excruciating
Your vision is blurred as you drag your feet to your bathroom
Your body is weak and malnourished
Then you trip over the decorative rug in the middle of the too-clean room
But you make no move to get up
The floor envelopes you as something hot and wet fills your underwear
This was bound to happen
You knew it, but you also knew you could only sit and wait as there was no way you could give birth to his child
It hurts, so bad
But that reminds you how real you are, that you feel things just like others
Maybe you didn't deserve to be ignored by the man who impregnated you
Perhaps you didn't deserve this life
All the bad things that happened aren't because you're a bad person, it has nothing to do with you
This was never meant to be your life, something more pure was
And as your consciousness slips away, a better feeling welcomes you
A better life waits ahead
And this one finally ends
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Humans were like pets to Ryomen Sukuna. His servants took up such a little present of his life- but he took up almost all of theirs.
But you? You took up his everything. Late in the night after you were found lifeless in your separate bedroom- something he regrets making you have, he felt a change that night. Disappointment was a distinct feel, but there was something else. Hurt.
Possibly because this was something he now had no control over. Or maybe he was attached used to you.
None of that mattered in the end. You were no more. And as of now, so was he.
Originally split into 20 fingers- he now is trapped in the body of a high schooler.
He knows what he’s waiting for. More specifically, who- Satoru Gojo.
His body shakes with excitement as he thinks of all the ways he could kill him, threaten him, scare him into submission.
But that doesn't happen; not today at least.
Instead, he sees a much too-familiar face..but he doesn't immediately recognize who you are.
But as you come into view, arms interlocked with Satoru’s, greeting his students, he becomes filled with the need to switch.
When he heard you call out to the students, a realization washed over him.
That was his girl his concubine wrapped around Satoru Gojo
He knows it's you, it has to be. But he also knows his options are limited
He could call out your name- if it hadn't changed, or he could watch as you genuinely smile next to another man
If you had remembered him you wouldn't be with someone else, he knows that for a fact- right?
But you don't, he doesn't think you do at least
There's nothing he can do to remind you of all the nights you spent together
There's nothing he can do about it.
There's nothing he can do.
There's nothing.
.
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This was going to take such a different route LOL. You were going to be eaten by either him or curses. The thought of going into more detail on the whole malnutrition path because of the baby also crossed my mind. It was going to be a DDDNE path. But no one would want that so I didn't <|3 Js did something short and sweet because I spent too much time making it ;( sorry about that, I love you all soooooooo much ✋ 🤚 (that much) ❤️
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cherubharrington · 24 days ago
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Melting
Part 1
Authors note: sorry if this is straight ass and it’s also not edited at all. Just straight from my dome.
Your mom had let him in, unbeknownst to her, that you two had fought. Rafe looked around your family home. The stark contrast from the home you had with him, it was more cozy. Smaller too. He had to duck to get in. And he couldn’t help but notice your cute brother and sister running around, trying to catch each other.
“Hola Rafe!” Your sister Bella says.
“Hey munchkin.” He says, endearingly. He’s shocked on how much she looks just like you. Same hair, same eyes, same smile. Your sister was like a mini you. You both looked like your mom.
“She’s in her room.” Your mom says warmly, she pointed down the hall for him. He smiled and thanked her, walking down the hall. His heart was harming in his chest. This could go either way really. And he was worried you wouldn’t forgive him.
He knocked on the door once.
“Estoy busy mami!” You yelled from inside the room, his heart leaped at the sound of your voice.
“Uh-it’s me…Rafe.” Silence engulfs the space, it takes a minute before you open the door and stare at him.
“How—
“Your mom let me in.” He says simply, he looks at you, doing a once over. His eyes seeing you in a pointelle pajama set. Your hair is loose and draping your shoulders. He sucks in a breath, you always looked beautiful to him. The way that you dressed, the person you were, the way that you looked. Everything about you enamored him.
“Hi.” He says softly, his hands in his pockets. You still haven’t spoken, your eyes scanning him as well.
“Hi.” You say coldly. His heart broke at the way you spoke to him. But he deserved it. Especially after the way he treated you. He swallowed thickly.
“Can we please talk?” He asks. Your eyes look away from him. Staring at anything in your room. But him.
“No.”
His heart shattered, he couldn’t help but let a tear roll down his face.
“Come on baby, please.”
“Don’t call me that” you say a little too harshly, you wince at your own tone
“But you are my baby, you are.” He closes the distance between you. He grabs your face into his hands.His thumb trancing your cheek.
“I’m sorry okay, for everything. From the way I spoke about you to Ruthie and Topper. Shit from kicking the suitcase from you. I shouldn’t have forced you to stay.” He takes a sharp exhale in.
“Rafe—
“I know, I know I shouldn’t have done that. I was upset and my emotions were all over the place.”
You shook your head at him, “It’s fine Rafe. Really.”
He shook his own head in turn. “No none of it was okay. If you wanted to come home to your parents I should have let you.”
Silence engulfs you once more, your eyes still not meeting his.
“I was just scared of losing you. I wasn’t thinking straight.” His blue eyes meets your eyes. A pleading look engraved in his.
“I’m not coming back Rafe.” You say simply but those words shatter his heart in pieces. Tears are falling down his face now. He’s holding onto you like a life line.
“You don’t mean that. I made a stupid mistake. I’m an idiot. Please.” He pleads, but you still continue to shake your head at him.
“Don’t do this, please. I love you okay. I see a future with you. With kids, like your siblings.” He points towards the door, out to where your siblings are laughing and playing around.
“Rafe—
“Please, please. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”He gets on his knees, he’s tall enough that he still can wrap his arms around your waist and his head almost reaching your chest.
Tears are falling down your face now, your eyes not staring back at his.
“Rafe, stop.”
“No.” His voice is muffled by the fact that his face is pressed to your chest. You can feel his tears going onto your shirt. You hear him hiccup.
“It’s been two weeks baby. You haven’t called or texted me. Two-Two weeks without you. Your hugs, your kisses, your love, and your smile. I can’t do it anymore. It’s killing me baby.” He’s kissing your stomach now, his face pressing closer to you.
“Rafe, please. Get up.” He shakes his head rapidly, you can hear his sobs. He hugs you tighter, not letting go.
“B-baby, please. Don’t leave me. Please. I can’t, I can’t do this without you. It feels pointless.”
You want to be harsh, a part of you does. The more hurt part. To tell him that his friends would be ashamed of him for how he’s crying over a pogue. On his knees no less. How they’d be embarrassed of him. But the more tender part of you, the one that loves him. Is more overbearing.
“Rafe—
“Don’t, I can’t hear you say that you’re not coming home to me. That you don’t want to be with me anymore. I can’t.” He’s rubbing his face on your chest.
At first you had your hands up in the air. Not wanting to touch him. But after awhile, you can’t help but put your hands on him. Trying to soothe him. Your hands running through his buzzcut. Feeling like mowed grass. It’s a silly thought. But you suppressed a laugh.
“I’ll do anything. I told them that you are my girlfriend. That I am with you. That we’re building a life together. Please, don’t throw that away baby. Please.”
The hurt part of you wants to slash his dreams. Make him pay for how he made you feel. But the loving part is hogging up the space.
“Rafe seriously get up.” You say, he does so but slowly. He eyes you like a puppy. Awaiting punishment. His hands are still on you. His hands still on your stomach as he reaches his full height. You look up at him, tears falling down your face.
“This is hard for me to do, okay.” He looks at you, his face is all scrunched up. He’s hurting, you can tell.
“It doesn’t have to be, baby.” He says, his hands moving up to cup your face. “I want to be with you. And only you. No one else compares. I-I need you.”
You don’t know how to respond. This was the last thing you’ve expected to happen. You never knew he would just show up in your doorway. Wanting to repair things. But he was Rafe. That’s exactly the kind of person he was.
“Please, I’ll do anything. I’ll even propose right now. If that’s what you want.” He sounds so broken and you want nothing more to hug him. To kiss those tears away.
But you don’t know how to respond. What to do, you’re confused. You’re so scared of getting burned.
“Please, say something. I need to know you still want this.” He’s hiccuping again, this time more consistent.
“I don’t know Rafe.” He brings your head up so you can meet each others eyes.
“I’ll even go to therapy. I’ll change. Please. I’ll do anything for you to come back. If I have to get on one knee and show you how serious I am. I will.”
You’re taken back by how serious he is. How adamant he is about you. Suddenly, you feel him get on one knee.
“Y/n l/n…
“Rafe, I don’t—
“Will you please marry me?”
The words feel like they’ve been sucker punched out of you.
Finally, you get the courage to speak.
“Rafe, stop. Get up.” He does as you say, mournfully.
“I mean it though.”
“Rafe, you’re not asking me to marry you as a way for me to forgive you.” He shakes his head, his eyes filmed with tears.
“I-I, fuck I wasn’t doing it for that.” He reaches for you again. You’re surprised your mom hasn’t come in to say something yet. Maybe she knows…
“Look, I love you. So much. And I can’t imagine a life without you. I want to be better person for you. I know, I know it sounds cliche. But I promise, I mean it.”
You stare into his blue eyes, sucked in like they were a tide trying to bring you in.
“You have to really mean it, Rafe. No bullshit. Or this is done.” He nods adamantly, his hands touching yours. Rubbing circles.
“I am, I am I promise. I’ll do anything to make things right with you.” He eyes you, his face so scrunched up, you want to grab his face and kiss him.
“I forgive you… but you do or say something about me like that again… it’s done. Forever.”
He nods, he wraps his arms around you, holding you close.
“I won’t be dumb again, I promise.” You wrap your own arms around his waist. Unable to meet him at his full height to wrap your arms around his neck.
“So about marriage…” he says after a while, you just giggle unable to hold it in anymore.
“We are of age…” You say
@roseshopper here you go!
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