#but his face every time he popped one was just too adorable not to gif

[ndcgalitzine]

Lee Jae Wook || Marie Claire Korea Pop Quiz 2019 - 2020

[6gumi]

blessed by the heavens above!

synopsis ﹒ jujutsu kaisen men and their tittie obsession !

pairings ﹒ satoru gojo 、suguru geto 、choso kamo 、kento nanami 、ryomen sukuna ( implications of heian form ! ) 、toji fushiguro x f!reader

cw ﹒nsfw MDNI. tits, tits, tits ! ! ! 、titplay 、body worship ( ? ) 、established relationships ( ? ) 、petnames ( pretty thing 、princess 、reader referred to as “girl” once, etc ) 、titsucking 、size difference 、fingering ( sukuna only ) 、 toji called “daddy” once 、 jujutsu kaisen men n’ their luv for titties . . . | tag ! @diorsbrando

note﹒BACK W/ THE JJK WRITINGS ! ! YAAAAY ! ! coughs coughs wrote this while i was sickies . . . (again) i kept sniffling & sniffing each word i wrote down cries . . . i hope i didn’t make too many mistakes :> | reblogs are highly appreciated. if you want to talk to me or send thirsts / requests, feel free to send me an ask ! — millie ♡

୨୧ SATORU GOJO

gojo was having a rough day . . . the higher ups giving him an earful here and there . . . and exorcizing curses left and right, he was exhausted, so it was almost obvious how he was gonna relax for the entire night ! by laying on your chest ! “i’m gonna take it off now, kay?” his large hands ran through the silky piece of fabric covering your entire body. his beautiful eyes widened at the sight of your bare chest, appreciation clear in his gaze. he licked his lips, unable to resist reaching out and lightly grazing his fingers over your skin, a low hum rumbling in his throat. "fuck . . . now that's what I'm talking about," he says, his voice husky with desire. "damn, angel. your tits are absolutely perfect, just like you." with a mischievous glint in his eye, your exhausted boyfriend leaned in and took one of her nipples into his mouth, suckling it gently before releasing it with a pop . . smirking up at you before latching his mouth back onto your nipple.

shit, he loved your tits, he’d ways pay attention to its warmth, and how it felt within his wet mouth. his mouth nearly watering as he struggled to contain his excitement. gojo’s teeth lazily bit at your nipple, trying to be as gentle as possible . . . breathing heavily through his nose trying to maintain some semblance of control amidst the temptation of your body. you were so small compared to him, yet here he was suckin’ and biting at your nipples . . practically crushing your body from below. despite that, his eyes never left their prize, you. reaching out, he brushed a thumb over one taut nipple of yours . . . earning a sharp gasp. “you make me wanna touch, taste, and explore every inch of you, princess.” the sorcerer spoke playfully, squeezing gently. “can we do this every time i come home?”

୨୧ SUGURU GETO

suguru’s heart swelled as he watched you curl up next to him, he needed your warmth and you were giving him just that. the soft whimpers you made . . . drove him to the edge. the room was bathed in a warm, inviting glow from the fairy lights strung around the windows, casting a rosy hue on the soft sheets and fluffy pillows surrounding you both. gently, suguru traced his fingers along the smooth curve of your hip, drawing lazy circles that made you squirm ever so slightly. despite that, it was a simple pleasure, but it brought him immense joy to see the effect he had on his adorable girlfriend. the sorcerer leaned in closer, whispering into your ear . . . bringing his voice down to a low yet soft whisper as his breath tickled your delicate skin. "see? you’re doing so well, bun," your boyfriend cooed softly, his voice full of warmth and affection. “hm . . . were these things always this cute?”

“your body’s divine, i could look at it for eternity.” suguru examined your tits, he was almost . . . fascinated with how they look. god, how did he not notice their beauty until now? with a tender smile, your boyfriend began to play with your ample breasts, pinching and twisting your sensitive nipples as he watched your pretty face contort in pure pleasure. “yeah . . . my darling likes that, hm?” he could feel his dick pressing against it’s confines as he grunted, squeezing at your pretty breasts even harder than before. “. . . s—sugu . . .” a soft murmur left your lips, your teary eyes gazing up at him. “ . . ‘squeezin’ too hard, sugu . .” “lovely . . . if you say that, i can guarantee that i’ll squeeze these pretty things even harder than i already am. so keep that pretty mouth shut and let ‘sugu do all the work, got it?”

୨୧ CHOSO KAMO

“ . . . baby,” choso’s low voice reverberated through the room, his stare sweet and gentle as he pinched your nipple against his thumb. his own eyes were wide at the display of your breasts, a shiver of desire coursed through him . . . swallowing a lump in his throat as he could feel his dick beginning to swell, pressing against the fabric of his pants. "they’re so beautiful . . “ choso murmured, his voice thick with need for you, the sight was too much. unknowingly licking his lips, he brought your other breast to his mouth, sucking on the nipple and teasing it with his tongue. the cursed spirit’s fingers trailed downwards to your sides, teasing the edge of your panties . . . his grip tightening, almost urging you to rock against him, to feel the length of his erection.

"you’re a good girl," choso praised, his fingers lightly tracing over the curves of your breasts nonstop. he was addicted to the feeling . . . the feeling of your sensitive skin sent shivers down his spine. choso leaned in once more, his lips finding your other nipple, licking and sucking gently, watching as you arched into the touch. "you’re a good girl for letting me see these beautiful things . . . so damn hot," choso bit down gently, a soft smile playing on his lips. choso knew the real remedy for your heat; a good, deep pounding from his throbbing cock. but yet . . . he wanted your breasts . . he wanted to give them his attention, worship them. you always knew he had a thing for titties . . . but tonight, he let his obsession shine through even more. your nipples peaked under the gentle pressure, and the sight sent a surge of arousal coursing through his body. “so pretty, baby . . . such pretty tits you have . .”

୨୧ KENTO NANAMI

nanami’s grip tightens on your arm, a low growl rumbling in his chest. he’s been waiting for this, for you. he’s been away from you for too long, a dreadful feeling of irritation was running through his veins and you noticed that. “you . . . okay, ken?” your husband sighs, hauling you onto his lap, the heat from his body seeping through you. you’re smaller than him, and he loves that. it makes him feel good. nanami’s hand cups your breast, kneading it roughly through the fabric. " . . . i’m just exhausted, princess," he cooed slowly, his voice thick with desire. “just . . . just wanna taste you tonight.” nanami had never imagined himself as the type to be so impulsive, but now here he was, unable to resist the pleasure that awaited him, the irresistible joy of feeling your pretty tits he loved so much against his hands.

“ . . . you’re beautiful.” nanami’s heart raced as he feasted on the sight of you infront of him, he was a man who had never allowed himself such indulgences, but now, in this moment, he found he could no longer resist. lowering his head, your husband tenderly kissed each of your swollen nipples, his hands gently massaging the flesh that surrounded them. your whines grew more insistent and adorable, prompting nanami to do more than he should. the sound of your whine was like music to his ears, sending a thrill down his spine as he leaned down . . . lips brushing against your other nipple, nibbling softly. “pardon me for my ignorance, sweetheart . . . i just needed you so much today. you’re so beautiful . . . it drives me absolutely crazy. these tits . . . so irresistible.”

୨୧ RYOMEN SUKUNA

sukuna reveled in the warmth of your body against his own. the feel of your soft yet delicious flesh beneath his fingertips sent electric shock down his spine. sukuna roughly squeezed one of your breasts, marveling at its firmness. “m—more please . .” you muttered against his chest, the curse’s large hand slid further down, fingers probing between your legs as the wetness he discovered sent a surge of excitement coursing through him. “. . . impatient girl.” the king of curses slowly pushed two fingers inside of you, feeling the tight warmth enveloping his fingers. “you’re a needy slut, you know that?” he scoffs, his fingers in and out of your pretty pussy gently. As he did so, he leaned in closer, “here you are . . . begging me for more. just wait ‘till i fuck this slutty pussy of yours ‘till all you see are stars,”

sukuna’s fingers worked expertly, chuckling lowly at your sweet whines while his other arms held your thighs, keeping your pretty legs spread for him “pathetic . . . ‘s like you’re easy to break.” his fingers danced further as his thumb circled your clit while the others plunged in and out of your cunt, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge. "just look at these tits . . .” with each syllable of his words he spoke, his digits gradually worked faster, latching his mouth right on your nipples . . . transitioning between sucking, nipping, teasing. the king of curses could feel the heat of your desire, and he wanted to be the one to quench it. “so fuckin’ small . . . even your pussy can’t take my fingers.”

୨୧ TOJI FUSHIGURO

"do’ya like this, doll?" toji’s way of relieving his stress is getting a small ‘lil squeeze of your tits ! or . . . perhaps more than that. his cruel gaze glanced down at your smaller stature, a cocky grin on his lips as he was practically looming over you. toji’s hand slid down your figure, digits dipping between your legs, stroking your wetness. “tell me you want this. tell me you want me." his hands roamed over your entire body, his touch confident and bold as he explored you willingly beneath his body. "damn, you're even more amazing than i imagined," he whispered into your ear, “ . . . might ‘hafta keep ya. don’t want other morons stealin’ ya, doll-face.” toji’s smirk widened as he gently stroked your hair, relishing in the sight of your precious expressions. it was intoxicating to him, this vulnerability that you endured had him in a chokehold.

“always wondered how these pretty tits tasted, baby. guess i should have a ‘lil taste myself tonight,” toji’s frame leaned even closer, looming over yours. “c’mon sweet girl, let daddy take care of you," he whispered, his hand sliding down to cup your breast, his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh before he began to lick and nibble, lapping up the sweet taste of your skin . . his thumb circling with increasing speed as your moans grew louder, more desperate. “fuck, pretty-dolly . . . yer tits are drivin’ me crazy.” toji’s low voice rumbled against his chest, his free hand gripping your hip as he held you firmly in place. “c’mere. sit on my lap, pretty thing . i can give ya somethin’ else to moan and whine about.”

© 6GUMI 2024. modifying 、translating 、sharing my works on other platforms 、or considering them as yours is strictly prohibited.

[yurinaa-world]

"𝑅𝑒𝓅𝓊𝓃𝓏𝑒𝓁 𝑅𝑒𝓅𝓊𝓃𝓏𝑒𝓁 𝐿𝑒𝓉 𝒟𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝒴𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝐻𝒶𝒾𝓇"

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Moze, Jing Yuan, Aventurine, & Blade x Gender-Neutral reader

💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: His hair is something else

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, & Spelling Mistakes

💫𝑀𝑜𝓏𝑒 “𝒮𝒽𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓌 𝒢𝓊𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒴𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓃𝑔”

A shadow guard like Moze has no time to take care of himself, which truly does explain the texture of his hair, rough and slightly tangled—because he never took care of it, has a lot of split ends with how his hair was styled and cut, it’s horrendous. 

He doesn’t have time to care about outside appearances and you usually can’t catch him on a day off to take care of his body properly until he (unlucky) gets injured and gets sent home, acting shameful and wishing he did things differently as if he got suspended from school. But you think this is positive since now he should take his “day off” and take care of himself.

Since he’s spending it with you, he’ll accept his situation. “See now you’re hair feels nice,” you complimented, scratching his scalp with your fingers, while you sat on the bed and had him sitting on the ground; his arm around your calf, pressing the side of his face against your knee. He may have been injured, but at least he can enjoy every part of your body, even your legs. “Doesn’t it feel nice when finally take care of hair?”

“Mhm,” He hummed. forget his hair, the feeling of you is way better to him. It might just be his only bliss. His hair was usually dry and unkept, like a quick comb (if he was lucky) and getting out there. (He would try to fix it up when going to see you, like running his hands slightly through it—just making him look like a total goof). 

Such rugged and matted feeling to it, yet it never bothered him when it was in his face, you always chided him about personal care, and he tried to listen, he truly did but his life had always been like this before you fell into his life. Old habits just die hard.

“Moze, move, I need to dry your hair.” Gently tapping him so he could move off your leg so you could dry his hair, yet he refused, he wanted to stay in this position for a little longer, but for the first time in a long time, he’s let his guard down.

“Forget it.”

💫𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒢𝑒𝓃𝑒𝓇𝒶𝓁 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒞𝓁𝑜𝓊𝒹 𝒦𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈"

His hair is slightly messy when he puts it down from that ponytail he wears every day, his hair has been cut in several different layers which has just caused a complete mess when it’s put down. You needed a closer look at it, just curious, which he doesn’t mind at all, just keep running those pretty fingers like a lullaby being sung to a child and he won’t complain.

There may be a few tangles here and there, yet his hair was soft. The odd thing is, there are always birds popping in and out of that white nest that he calls his hair so you didn’t expect it to feel so good! 

“Seems like you’re having fun, yet try to be a little gentle with me.” 

That tired expression accompanied by his groggy voice, looking up at you from your soft lap as if you were some being out of this world. 

“Was I being too rough?” You worried, stopping your fingers, “I was only messing with you, keep on going,” he reassured you, a smile plastered on his lips just to make feel better, which you just laughed at before going back to where you left off. 

“Your hair is so odd.”

“What is odd about it?”

“So many layers and cuts at this point you’ll just have to wait for it to grow back to put into one proper layer.” you talked like some sort of dictionary that you were all about hair, yet it was adorable that you analyzed the strands of his hair as if he were your subject in a lab. 

“Do you like the style of it now?” he hummed, eyes closed and relaxing while your gentle fingers prodded against his scalp.

 “Of course I do! It suits you well! I couldn’t imagine you with anything else.”

“If you like it then I shall keep it that way.”

💫𝒜𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑒 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝑒𝓃𝒾𝑜𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝓃𝒶𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝐼𝒫𝒞 𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒𝑔𝒾𝒸 𝐼𝓃𝓋𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒟𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉"

His hair looks like something out of a commercial, it looks so glossy like a diamond, looking smooth and soft to the touch, and you can't forget how well-moisturized it is. It makes any hair model jealous of him, yet it just makes you wanna touch his hair more, just to feel if it’s as soft as it looks. You can’t help yourself, it’s more like a need than a want.

No tangles, no matting, nothing bad at all. Just a touch that’s all you have to do while he wears his signature hat.

“Want a touch?”

He won’t act like he doesn’t see you staring, loving at his hair, looking like you wanted to get a feel—eyes lighting up whenever he goes to take off his hat. Tonight he feels tired, just wanting a little love from you after a tough workday. You, were already in bed as he came in, arms out waiting for him to hug you, which he couldn’t resist.

Feeling your arms around him, probably fixed the stiffness of his shoulders, as if you’re like a remedy to every problem he’s had.

 His scalp is killing him, won’t you help him out? Taking off the hat that sat perfectly on the top of his head and threw it to the side, one knee down on the bed, sinking the bed with the weight of his knee, before bending down; giving the go-ahead card to touch his hair.

It was just as soft as it looked to be, your soft fingers gently going through and touching his hair. He can see your eyes shine so brightly while playing with his hair as if he were a little doll.

Just the feeling of those pretty fingers makes him want to stay forever.

“Keep on going.”

💫𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑒 "𝑀𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒶𝓇𝑜𝓃 𝐻𝓊𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈"

Rough and straw-like, are the only words you can use to describe his hair, you can tell he never takes care of it properly—always too busy going on missions, a quick shower—to get all that muck off and he’s gone out again, it’s truly a sad sight to see. A man with those illustrious locks of hair just to not be treated properly.

Even now with his hair wet and still filled with so many tangles, every time you try to move the hairbrush after fighting with a knot it just ends with another fight with another nasty knot, which makes him look back at you, biting his lip while pain looks in his eyes, as this wasn’t just the consequences of his actions. 

“Don’t look at me like that, you should brush your hair more often,” you groan after manually untangling the knot in his locks before arriving at the same problem again when you attempt to brush it again. “What am I going to do with you, blade,” sighing at the fact it’s been an hour of you doing this.

You hear his groans of pain while going through his hair, sectioning it pretty well. You can feel your hands go numb from all that fighting you had to do with his hair, but it was worth it since now his hair is silky smooth and smells like oranges, you can’t forget the little bows as well, and he’ll let put it on begrudgingly since you did all that work (and that you gaslit him about your pain).

“Like it? You’re so pretty now.”

“Tsk…”

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。NUMBER — SHIDOU RYUSEI.

✩ — contents ⋮ barista! reader, fluff, very annoying yet very sweet boyfriend shidou agenda <3 he’s so romantic in the most vein popping way <3

shidou loves to bother you at work, it must be his favorite pastime, you think—except now it’s starting to get everyone else at work invested too.

“oh. my. gosh,” you coworker whispers, swatting your arm excitedly, “there’s a guy asking for you—says you made his drink last time.”

“i make a lot of guys drinks,” you shrug.

“yeah but not for guys this cute,” she huffs, “i’m jealous. this is your chance, so don’t ruin it! maybe he’s good in bed too,” she wriggles her brows at you, making you scowl as you roll your eyes.

and then you see it—that mop of blonde hair with those pink ends, and you sigh in exasperation as you walk up to the register.

of course, it’s him.

“hello sir, what can i get for you?” you say monotonously.

“hmm,” shidou grins, tapping his chin as if he’s deeply in thought, “i was just thinking i’d get a drink from a pretty little barista. maybe even a number.”

from the distance, you can see your coworkers stop whatever they’re doing to stare—it’s not like it’s every day that someone this attractive comes in to flirt with a fellow employee. you can just about make out the jealousy in some of their faces and amusement in the others. one thing they all have in common, however, is awe—which you’re not too shocked at, shidou’s admittedly a handsome guy….if you look past how obnoxious he can be, that is.

“what drink would you like?”

“any is fine with me as long as i can get your number as an add on,” he grins, and it’s a wicked grin, really. it’s wide and smug and almost makes him look psychotic. you purse your lips as you shake your head, and distantly, you can hear your earlier coworker groan at your lack of enthusiasm for what you’re sure she’ll later go on to describe as the luckiest experience you’ll ever get.

“that’s not an option we carry here,” you squint, “you must be getting our menu confused for another coffee shop. maybe you should look somewhere else.”

“i don’t know,” he smirks, “i don’t think i’d confuse a pretty face like yours so easily.”

if anyone were to tell you, they’d say shidou ryusei is insufferable. you come to learn this is very true with every possible encounter you have with him, including this one. but there’s something a bit endearing about him, something that’s…dare you say, adorable, despite the way his words are sometimes crass and far from proper. and if the way he’s so persistent for your attention is of any proof, you’d say he’s a pretty determined guy—but you like to see how long you can keep him on his toes.

“i’m sure you say that to all the pretty faces you come across,” you say sarcastically, eyeing him as his smile widens and his eyes glint with amusement.

“nope,” he pops the p as he speaks, “you’re the only one. why, you jealous?”

“you wish,” you snort. “and i can’t give you my number, actually,” you say—and this time, it’s you with a smug grin, catching the eyes of your coworkers as they tilt their heads in confusion, “i have a boyfriend. so i’m afraid it’s simply not possible.”

“oh?” shidou drawls with a raise of his brow, “i bet he’s a loser. bet i could take him in a fight easily. if i win against him, you gotta let me move in with you—how ‘bout that?”

“he is a bit of a loser,” you grin, and anyone could make out the fondness seeping into your voice as your eyes soften at the idea of whoever’s got your heart. “but he’s my loser, so i’m afraid the answers still no.”

“sounds like you love him,” he presses, eyeing you expectantly.

“i don’t know about that one,” you giggle, “he’s still got to prove himself a bit more.”

“that’s harsh,” he hums, “maybe if you gave me your number, i’d prove to be better.”

“sorry, no can do—”

“just give him your number, already!” your coworker cuts you off and huffs, stomping her way over to where you stand. shidou’s got a cheshire grin on his face, eyeing her with that same look of amusement that makes you pinch your nose as you sigh. “you and i both know good and well you don’t have a boyfriend so do yourself a favor and just—”

“and how can you be so sure there’s no boyfriend?” shidou raises his brow.

you try, you really do—but you can’t help but finally crack. it’s a small giggle at first, and then it’s a fit of laughter that makes his eyes soften and his lips quirk into a lopsided beam that’s nothing short of lovesick.

“if you do seem to think there’s a boyfriend in the equation, why pursue someone then?” you coworker raises a brow, arms crossed as she challenges him, “that makes you a jackass, don’t you think?”

“easy,” shidou cackles, leaning in and pressing one, two, three soft pecks to your lips, making everyone gasp as you roll your eyes affectionately, “i’m the boyfriend. sometimes i like to keep the romance alive and fight myself every once in a while.”

“wha—” she’s left speechless, staring at him as she tries to comprehend what he’s just said with her mouth hung. shidou only mocks her opened mouth, and you reach over and swat his shoulder, making him snicker.

“that’s enough, ryu,” you warn—though you don’t sound all that serious. “i’ll be off in ten. are you gonna order anything or just stand there?”

“aw, c’mon baby. ‘course i am,” he pulls out his card, handing it to you, “i’ll take your favorite. you keep it though,” he winks.

“god you’re so annoying,” you mumble, but still, you don’t pull away when he leans for another peck on the lips, even as your coworkers chant a chorus of get a room from the back.

“see you in ten, baby,” he calls over his shoulder, walking off to find himself a seat as he waits for you.

yeah, you think, your coworkers are really going to be invested in this one.

he’s like…so very sweet and in love but in a very annoying and odd way. like he’d vandalize a building to spray paint your initials together in a heart or something

[3d-wifey]

NSFT Alphabet: MK1 Johnny Cage Edition

A/N: Wrote this to hold you Johnny girls (gender neutral) over until I finish that smut 😙 Plus, I find writing these Alphabets for a character in preparation to write full-fledged smut for them is very helpful in capturing accurate characterization. It's almost like a writing exercise. I've written three different ones so far and I tried to keep them in character, if that makes sense. Like, I tried putting their personality and language in it. Okay, enjoy.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Talking. So much talking. But, honestly, did you expect anything else? As he’s pulling out, as he’s carrying you to the shower, as you’re washing his hair. And when it inevitably leads to shower sex, he’s talking then too. You’ll never meet a man who loves the sound of his own voice more than Johnny Cage.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

Uh, how ‘bout the artillery canons strapped to his arms? C’mon, I mean, who wouldn’t want a ticket to the gun show? 

Face. Is saying your face too cliche? Hear him out! You want specifics? He can do specifics! He likes the dimples that pop in your cheeks when he finally gets you to laugh at one of his jokes, the little crease you get between your eyebrows when he’s pissed you off, the adorable way your nose scrunches up when he does that one thing with his tongue that drives you crazy. See? Specifics!

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

Pull out game…very weak. Embarrassingly weak, actually. He swears he’s never had this problem before. His ability to pull out in the nick of time has always been something he’s prided himself on. However, he vastly underestimated just how good you’d feel. He’s clean, you’re clean, and, hey! You both prefer the feeling of hitting it raw, the way nature intended it. However, your pussy’s like wet kryptonite. And he’s only a man. A very awesome man, but a man nonetheless. So birth control it is! Or, if you’re turned off by all the side effects, he can be talked into a vasectomy. It’s either that or give up the sweet, sweet embrace of your walls when he’s balls deep. 

On second thought, that vasectomy sounds pretty tempting. It is reversible, right?

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Johnny would leak his own sex tape. Plain and simple. He’d leak it from a burner account and watch the chaos ensue. There’s no shame in his game. Hey, it’s ranked the Number 1 Celebrity sex tape for a reason.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Is this even a question? Actors, singers, models, directors, producers. He’s THE Johnny Cage, Hollywood royalty. He’s fucked actual royalty. You’re in good hands—as long as he cares about you. If you’re a random hookup, then he’s not really working for your pleasure here. You’ll definitely cum, but it’s mainly a pit stop on his way to the finish line. 

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

Reverse cowgirl. Johnny’s an ass man, through and through. He loves fucking up into you and watching your ass ripple with both of your movements. And he loves holding onto you. Big hands grabbing your waist, hips, thighs, and especially your ass. He also loves seeing you both in action. So reverse cowgirl + some artfully placed full-length mirrors = Him wrapping his arms around your stomach, rubbing at your clit, and forcing you to watch yourself as you desperately grind against him, AKA Heaven. 

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Oh, c’mon. It isn’t like him to be serious in any situation. He’s gotta slip a joke in every now and then. Get it? Slip a joke in?

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Wax on, wax off, baby. Smoother than a seal. Or, uh, some other sexy, hairless animal. You mourn when he waxes his happy trail. 

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

You’ll be surprised by how charming he can be. It’s not all jokes and great orgasms. It’s also loving touches, reverent compliments, and amazing orgasms.

J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)

He’s got a healthy libido and a pretty stacked schedule, so sometimes a quick introduction between his hand and mini Johnny can’t be helped. But he’s also got a smoking hot girlfriend (you), so jerking off by himself is a rare occurrence. 

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Exhibitionism. What can he say? He’s a performer at heart and he loves an audience. But nothing crazy, just your average celebrity having sex on a yacht that’s in full view of the paparazzi. Or the occasional jerking off with you telling him how fast or slow to go. Oh, and you can’t forget about the sex tapes. Man, with the amount of videos he has of the two of you going at it, he could start an archive. You two have definitely ended up on the cover of TMZ and the front page of Twitter.

Voyeurism. But only for you. He’s enthralled by anything you do, including how many of your much smaller fingers will you stuff inside yourself to replicate the feeling of him stretching you wide. It usually leads to you begging for him to touch you, something else he’s in love with. Nothing wrong with a little hands-on audience participation.

Dirty talk. Normally, dirty talk is kind of basic to any old romp in the hay, but Johnny, being Johnny, puts his own Cage flair on it. Those corny oneliners somehow translate to the perfect thing to say to get you hot. He’s like Shakespear, if Shakespear was good-looking and not a virgin. You know what they say: everything sounds better when you’re horny. Who says that? Uh…

Fighting/Sparing which always leads to blood play. Winning a match gets Johnny’s blood pumping. The adrenaline of escaping death and the crowd hyping him up. And the crux of it all is you who happens to get especially wet when he comes to you covered in blood, grinning with a glint in his eyes that’s poorly hidden behind his blood-speckled sunglasses (a glint that many may describe as mania). And it certainly goes the other way. Watching you kick ass makes him harder than a diamond. Sparing together is a no-brainer that leads to fucking on his gym floor, or, honestly, wherever you two fall. Lui Kang must regret making you two his champions in this timeline with how often he’s walked in on you two. Offering to let him join probably doesn’t soften the blow, but, hey, it’s only polite.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

In his mansion. In one of his lavish beds, or pressed up against the wall-length windows. In his Bentley or in the back of his limo. He’s a big fan of fingering you under the table at an award show and then fucking you in a bathroom at said award show when he should definitely be on stage presenting. For whatever reason, walking the red carpet always gets him worked up. And going to the club together always ends with you riding him in the VIP section.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Such a complex question for a man with complex taste. I’m joking, Johnny is so easy. It’s actually ridiculous how easily you turn him on. Laugh at his joke, hard. Complement his acting or fighting, hard. Running your fingers through his hair/scratching his scalp, hard. Feel him up/tease him in any context, hard. You’re covered in blood after a win, hard, hard, rock hard.

“Are you King Midas? Cuz you make me hard with just one touch.”

“That one was actually kinda clever.” 

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Nothing too gross. He’s all for sloppy, messy sex, but he has to draw the line somewhere. There’s nasty 👁🫦👁 and there’s n a s t y 👁👄👁. 

He likes to tease/do the opposite of what you say, but if you’re not 100% on board with what he’s doing, then he’s stopping it then and there. Remember: there’s nothing sexier than explicit consent!

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Preferred to receive before he started dating you, and only ever had the urge to go down on someone if he had been drinking before. After you started dating, he definitely loved it whenever you gave him head, but he didn’t realize how much pleasure he could get from giving you pleasure. 

He loves sloppy head, giving and receiving, so if you weren’t wet before, you definitely will be after he gets his mouth on you. 

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on when and where you’re doing it. And if you two are “allowed” to be doing it in said place.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Big fan of the guy who came up with the idea of quickies, enough said. 

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

C’mon. He’s the leading source of your sex tapes getting leaked. I mean, how do you think the paps keep finding you in compromising positions? A little tip-off to them while you take his tip, ha!

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

It’s like he runs off horsepower, good God. If you’re trying to go until he’s tired out, it’s gonna be a couple of rounds until then.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He’s a fan of dildos. Specifically, watching you fuck yourself with one. “Go ahead, baby. Show me how bad you want me.” And show him, you do. God, you know how to put on a show. But you shouldn’t have to settle for some random dildo. You’re with the Cage man, and he would get a mold of his dick made for you. And they say he’s not romantic. 

Strap-on. That’s it. And he takes it well ;).

Remote-controlled vibrators, for you and him. Hell, let’s make a game out of it. See who can last the longest in public, there are no losers! 

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

His version of teasing is doing the opposite of what you said to do. You want him to speed up? He’s slowing down and making sure you feel every inch inside you. Oh, keep his hands above his head? You gonna make him? He’s a total brat, but you knew what you were getting yourself into when you agreed to date him.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Heh, yeahhh. He’s real loud. Moans, groans, screams, whimpers. You name it, he’s doing it. It’s the performer in him. And because he knows you like how he sounds.

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character)

Tattoos? Sexy as hell. If you were to ever get his name tattooed on you (preferably a tramp stamp), then you might as well start planning what flowers you want in your bouquet. I could see him getting your name tattooed on him too. Probably on his pelvis, in the middle of his v-line. In case anyone ever needs a reminder of who his dick belongs to.  

Type of guy to dedicate a Mortal Kombat match to you, and then lose. Ah, I’m joking. He’d beat his opponent’s ass all because you promised him victory sex if he won and he doesn’t take victory sex lightly.

X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s got an 8.5–8.9 inch hog, shower not a grower. Little Johnny isn’t so little. There’s a reason he’s alright with doing full-frontal nudity if the scene calls for it. They’ve had to CG out his bulge in post-production in every Ninja Mime movie. It’s not his fault spandex happens to be the clingiest material known to man.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Higher than Mount Fuji. He’s a stallion in his prime with a gorgeous girlfriend. His spare time is filled with filling you. And you both tend to feed off of each other, so all it takes is for one of you to be the tiniest bit turned on, and then, boom! You’re both desperately grinding against each other in a supply closet. Ain’t that just the way?

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Depends. He’s kind of like a dog that needs to tire himself out before he can sleep. 

Click for a Johnny Cage-shaped surprise👀👀

[vampcubus]

𝐊𝐍𝐘 𝐏𝐄𝐓 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐂𝐒

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 : kyojuro, tanjiro, and zenitsu.

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : reader is implied to be fem, the term "wife" is used!

𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔

— As much as pet names make his heart soar, he melts when you call him by his first name. The tender way your lips form around each syllable as if his name was something so dear to you. It makes his stomach flip every time you utter it. Kyojuro. Kyojuro. Kyojuro~ nothing sets his heart ablaze quite like your adoring voice echoing his name back to him.

— He’s Rengoku to most that know him, big brother to Senjuro, but to you he’s just Kyojuro. Your Kyojuro.

— However, there are some pet names that get those butterflies going: my love, honey, baby—something about being called baby makes him soften visibly. He gets that wet smile on his face and big eyes that say, Yes that’s me.

— He really really likes it when you call him “husband” there’s something so domestic and coy about it that makes his heart flutter. 

“Husbanddd, I require your assistance!” You often shout to him from the other room when you need help with something, and whether it’s simply a dish from a high shelf or a piece of furniture that needs to be moved, he pops his head into the room with an enthusiastic “Yes, wife!?”

(He especially likes it if you aren’t married yet, so when you teasingly call him “husband” it sounds like a promise.)

— Kyojuro has a multitude of pet names for you! He thinks your name is beautiful but he only calls you it when he’s feeling serious. Prepare to adopt second names by the day. 

— Names such as: my love, my flame, my heart’s fire, darling flame, my heart.

— And if he’s feeling particularly syrupy? He'll sing out names like sunflower and sunshine. cus you’re the ever-glimmering light of his life 🥺

— Everything that comes out of this man’s mouth sounds like a declaration of love.

— Another one he’s fond of is little flame.

“I’m not so little!“ you’d proclaim, making a face as he pats your head affectionately.

“Compared to me you are!” he’d laugh with his whole chest, teeth showing as he tosses his head back in glee.

— And even if you’re taller than him (which I’m sure he’d find incredibly enchanting, being able to rest his head on your shoulder and standing on his tippy toes to kiss you) you’re still his cute little flame.

𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐎

— He’s pure as they come when it comes to romance; shy but loyal to a fault! Tanjiro is a little clueless on how to go about the whole relationship business being so sheltered, all of his knowledge of courting rituals and such he observed from his parents (and they weren’t around very long to teach him 💀)

— Tanjiro honestly loves to call you by your name. He thinks it’s pretty and suits you perfectly. It took a great deal of conditioning to convince him it was alright to call you by your first name. To call you by your first name feels like an honor, so naturally, he’d want to utter it as often as you’d allow. 

— You can’t help but love the way he almost whispers it like a precious secret between you. His gentle voice always takes on an adoring quality when he says your name, every syllable honeyed and reverent.

— Tanjiro’s pet names are sickeningly sweet things like: sweetheart, flower, beautiful, and petal.

Nothing better than waking up to his kind gaze already trained on you, a muttered “good morning, beautiful.” against your temple as you’re still stirring from sleep. He gets that lovesick puppy look on his face when you reply with, “good morning to you too, handsome.”

— Tanjiro would let you call him anything you wanted, no matter how silly. You can’t go wrong with a cute shortening of his name like Tanji or a simple “my love” if you’re feeling sappy—and with such a loving partner as Tanjiro, wouldn’t you? He loves you so passionately it’s hard not to let the syrupy pet names fall like rain when he looks at you like that.

— His favorite though? Honey. Something about it just makes his brain turn to mush, he’d do anything for you when you call him that.

“Tanjiro honey, the bathroom door’s stuck shut again!” You’d holler, bouncing a fussing child with one hand and trying to pry the stubborn door open with the other. 

He’s at your side in seconds, wrenching the door open with considerable force. You sigh in relief, smiling when you feel his lips against your cheek, and watch as he shushes your child by simply stroking a thumb over their forehead.

“Thank you, honey,” you sighed, planting your own kiss to your husband’s cheek. He only beams, holding the door open for you and scooping your child into his own arms to let you have some much-needed alone time. 

𝐙𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐀

— I think it’s pretty obvious that Zenitsu is an avid pet name enjoyer, both giving and receiving! 

— He struggles not to shorten your name or replace it entirely with sugary pet names before you’re even official. And once you are irrevocably his? Prepare to forget your real name because you’ll never hear it from him again. Y/n? Who’s that?

— Your new names include: dearest, my love, sweetie, angel, peach blossom, sugar, honey—the list goes on and on! 

— His pet names only get sillier and sappier, but you’ll never have a dull moment with him that’s for sure. Zenitsu also uses the silly ones to make you laugh and can you blame him? It's his favorite sound <3

— Zenitsu doesn’t expect you to pick up his habit and start calling him your own sweet names.

— The first time you called him sweetheart his head whipped around so fast, eyes sparkling as he looked left and right, pointing to himself to ensure you were speaking to him. And when you nod he nearly bursts into joyous tears, fists clinging onto your kimono. It’s the first time he’d been given a sweet name, he can’t help blubbering his approval into your clothes.

— Zenitsu turns to mush before your eyes for any pet names, but his personal favorites to be called are: sweetheart (he melts every time), my love, my heart, and baby—that name in particular makes him get all misty-eyed and following after you like a puppy (another name I HIGHLY recommend calling him)

— Definitely soft for being called “husband.” it reminds him that he’s found someone that isn’t going to give up on him. No matter how many times he cries or falters; you’ll always be right there by his side. And then of course being married is his ultimate fantasy, so he can’t help but puff up with pride when you refer to him as your husband.

— Call him “pretty boy” and he’ll actually die. local man found dead in the marketplace after being called pretty by his own wife.

— it gets to a point where he grimaces when you use his actual name like who tf is Zenitsu? He’s sweetheart? He’s baby? 🤨

[xazse]

mr compress x kittygirl hybrid! reader and i will worship the ground you walk 😣😣🙏🙏🙏

SWEET GIRL

Synopsis: Mr.Compress feels a certain inkling and intensity within himself.

Notes: this is great I know you just submitted this really recent but I wanted to let some of my fans know that I will now write for MHA!!! SEND ME SOME STUFF (don’t worry to my others who have sent jjk requests I’m working on them<333)) (sorry I just had to do something with the league and them meeting kitty girl)

Pairings: Mr.Compress x KittyGirl!Hybrid

Warnings: Smut + mean!League Members + rough handling + rough kissing + fingering + penetration + Fem!reader + Hybrid!reader

Mr.Compress had dragged in another stray: you he had known for at least a month before introducing you to the league. He found you digging through some rubble searching for food. He had felt extremely bad and just felt the need to take you.

So that’s what he did, he took you and you didn’t fight at all he just went, scooped you up. You looked a tad bit confused but when he gave you some food you were attached, he gave you plenty of opportunities to leave but every time you’d look around for him and once you found him you’d loop your arms with his and follow. It was downright adorable.

After some time had passed he chose to introduce you to his beloved league.

“She looks stupid, get her out.”

“That’s so mean Tomura! I think she looks adoreable!”

“You are very right Toga, Shigaraki isn’t used to cutesy things.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The blue haired man exclaimed from the bar.

“Why not give er’ a change Shigaraki? She could prove to be useful.” Spinner is always trying to be the middle man, Mr.Compress can certainly rely on him to get you in good with everyone.

“Useful my ass.” Dabi’s the one who speaks up.

“It wouldn’t be wise for you to talk, you’re in the same boat as her.” Shigaraki backfires.

“Tried to help you, dick.”

It hadn’t even been 40 minutes sitting as the league chats and discusses various things, Toga and Twice won’t leave you alone they insist on playing with your tail and rubbing your pointy ears: pushing them back just to watch them pop right back in place.

You aren’t complaining one bit, you love the extra attention they’re giving you, you can’t quite make out what they’re saying but nonetheless you know it’s nothing but sweet words minus twice sometimes blurting random crude things.

Leaving them proves to be the worst, “tears” are exchanged when Mr. Compress is ready to depart and you have to leave the new friends you just made. He reassures you that you’ll be able to see everyone again very soon.

Mr compress loves you a tenth fold you’re impressed by his tricks others find to be unfunny but you will sit for hours and watch him show off, clapping with the biggest smile on your cute face. It drives him mad to have his own personal fan.

It makes his cock throb when he’s doing one of his tricks and you look so curious to find out what’s next, he can’t focus on finishing it when you’re swooning right in front of him, he basically attacks you with sloppy kisses.

His thick tongue invades your mouth, his actions aren’t careful, he needs to be inside you right now.

He sits on his hind legs and traps you with his thighs on either side. He takes his hard cock out and jerks himself a few times right over your exposed stomach. you’ve all of a sudden gone shy on him, trying to avoid the intense way he’s staring down at you.

He stops for a moment to rid you of your bra, then your panties whilst also undressing himself fully too.

Even after all this time you’re still hiding your body from him like he hasn’t explored every single inch of you. He pays that no mind and moves to rub your cunt, he makes sure not to directly touch your clit.

He moves his skillful fingers around your lips, dipping in and out of your hole to get you used to the feeling. Sweet moans slip from your throat, your breath hitches everytime he so much as grazes the englared bud.

Impatient Compress starts full on fucking you with his fingers, he has to use a little of his strength to keep your leg nice and still for him. You’re full on moaning, it feels so damn good, the way his fingers abuse your wet hole in the meanest motions he can muster.

He makes eye contact with you when he pulls his fingers out and licks them, making sure to clean them dry.

He’s got you plenty wet, he rubs the tip of his cock in between your lips even touching your sensitive clit, he hadn’t even made you cum and you’re already so jumpy.

His thick cock starts to push inside you, slowly filling you of him, taking him is no walk in the park, he’s more long than anything, you grip whatever you can as he pushes past your tight hole.

Atsuhiro lets you adjust to him, he can hear slight sniffling from you, poor thing, he’ll make you happy in just a moment: that moment being now, he pushes your legs a little towards your torso angling his cock more snuggly.

Atushiro is never one to rush sex with you, he likes to be in the moment so he can enjoy and really feel you but now he can’t wait, he starts thrusting fast and deep, your fat cunt accepting every inch so easily now.

He’s been obsessed with your pussy the first day you and him had sex, you’re so tight and warm, he draws his hips back all the way letting his cock fall out to admire the slick it’s covered in, just to slam right back into you.

“Nnng..”

“Feels… so good Sako..” your moans sound so choked up in your throat, making you all the more desperate for more clearly.

His face is a beautiful shade of pink, groans mixed with yours slipping from his bitten lips, you truly don’t know the effects your cunt has on him, everytime he pulls back you suck him right back in.

Your tail has a mind of its own when it wraps around his torso, moving along with the rhythm of his hips.

You wipe the tears that have found their way to your face, your body spasms in that familiar way, along with your pussy tightening even more around him. He holds you down by your tummy, securing you in place so you don’t thrash everywhere.

He slams down in you one last time, pushing you right over the edge you cum with a loud yelp followed by quiet whines that die down, through this whole thing he’s praising you, kissing your soddened cheeks.

Your chest rapidly tries to calm down, feeling the aftershocks of a nasty orgasm.

Later that night he makes sure to rub your pointy ears and cuddle you as close as possible.

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Hi! I don't know if you already have an idea for the birthday post, if you do feel free to ignore this...my favourite trope is dad!harry too...what if H has to go for an emergency meeting somewhere else out the country even before his birthday and he has to spend his birthday there too and he is bummed about it...the fmc can fly out with their daughter/son and when he is back from his meeting his room is all decorated and stuff and she tells him she asked jeff to cancel everything...and they do a bunch of fun stuff but at night, after dinner she and the baby surprise him with another baby or something and he is like best birthday ever, 30 is already amazing

Happy 30th Birthday, Baby.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

authors note - thank you so much to @missbearforfun for sending in this request, ive had had a fun time writing this, ive changed a few things up, so i hope that ive done it justice.

i can’t believe that my boy is 30….like i swear he was just auditioning for the x-factor yesterday. 🥹

word count - 4.4k

in which, harry gets called to do a meeting in italy, two days before his birthday, which means that he’ll be spending his 30th out there with just his manager jeff, what he doesn’t realise is that you, his darling wife, fly out to surprise him and hopefully give him the best birthday he’s ever had.

You’ve been in Harry’s life for just over ten years.

You’ve spent five of those years as boyfriend and girlfriend, two of those years as his fiancé, and now, this year will be leading up to the third year being each other's husband and wife.

The first birthday of his that you spent with him, was his 20th all the way back in 2014. He had organised an intimate get together at a restaurant full of all of his closest family and friends, and it was the first time that you would be turning up together, as an official couple seeing as the only people who knew about the two of you were his band mates and his mother,sister, father and step father.

It was also the night that he confessed to you that he loved you, and that you were the one person that he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with.

From that moment on, every birthday became a cherished chapter in your shared history.

Waking up in each other's arms has become a comforting tradition, marking the beginning of a day dedicated solely to celebrating Harry's existence. The warmth of those morning embraces symbolises the depth of your connection, a connection that has withstood the tests of time.

As the years unfolded, you've witnessed the evolution of Harry, both in age and character, yet the love between you two has remained unwavering.

From his 21st to his 30th birthday, you've made it a point to spend the day in a way that brings him joy. Whether it's exploring new places, indulging in his favourite activities, or simply relaxing together, the focus has always been on creating memories that reflect the essence of Harry.

Each birthday has become a canvas on which you paint moments of happiness and shared experiences.

You had spent every birthday with him, but for this one, it appeared to already be turning out in a way neither of you had expected.

A mere few days before Harry's anticipated birthday, an unexpected call from his manager, Jeff, sent ripples of disappointment through his plans. The urgency of an issue related to his beauty brand, Pleasing, required Harry's immediate attention in the Italy.

The brand we’re thinking of opening a pop-up shop over there, seeing as the country held so much adoration in both of your hearts, it was the place where you got married, the place where he proposed and where he now wanted his fans over there to have access to him and what he had to offer.

With flights already booked, he faced the heart-wrenching reality of having to leave just over two days before his special day. Devastation etched across his face as he contemplated the unforeseen disruption to the birthday celebration he had eagerly anticipated.

In a desperate attempt to reason with Jeff, Harry explained his deep desire to spend his birthday with you, sharing the disappointment that overshadowed the joy of the impending celebration.

However, the urgency of the matter prevailed, leaving Harry torn between personal desires and professional obligations. As his best mate and manager, Jeff empathised with Harry but emphasised the gravity of the situation, reinforcing the necessity of this unexpected journey.

Amidst the disappointment, you stepped in to comfort Harry, assuring him that celebrations could be postponed but his presence and well-being mattered most. You offered solace, reminding him that distance could not diminish the love and connection you shared.

The promise of a belated but equally meaningful celebration upon his return brought a glimmer of hope to the gloom that hung over his imminent departure.

You had promised him, that you would FaceTime him on his actual birthday and that you would both order the same takeaway that night and have a little over the phone date, just to celebrate this big milestone.

On the morning Harry was set to depart for Italy, the anticipation of his journey hung in the air. Dressed for travel, he stood before you with a small suitcase by the door.

Shoes on, cap snug, and sunglasses concealing his eyes, he exuded a mix of excitement and reluctance. Despite the January chill in London, the promise of Italy's warmth upon landing prompted him to prepare for a contrasting climate.

Your eyes held a silent plea as you stood before him, sorrow evident in your gaze.

"I wish I didn't have t’go," Harry admitted, his voice tinged with regret.

You nodded, understanding the weight of the situation, your silence echoing the unspoken emotions in the room.

Milo, your ten-month-old Rottweiler puppy, sensed the sombre atmosphere, wagging his tail as if trying to infuse joy into the moment.

Unable to contain your emotions, you wrapped your arms around Harry in a tight hug.

"I'll miss you so much," you whispered, your voice betraying the ache within. Harry's embrace tightened, and he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"I'll miss y’more, m’love," he murmured, the sincerity in his words resonating with the depth of his emotions.

Crouching down to pet Milo, Harry spoke to the pup with a soft smile, "Take care of mummy for me, little buddy."

Milo responded with excited barks, seemingly understanding the impending absence.

Standing up, Harry looked into your eyes, his own reflecting a mixture of love and longing.

Your gaze locked with his, finding solace in the promise of a future reunion.

"We'll have the most amazing belated birthday celebration," you said, trying to inject positivity into the moment.

Harry smiled, his eyes reflecting gratitude.

"I can't wait f’that. Until then, stay strong f’me," he said, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.

As the door closed behind him, the echo of his departure resonated through the silent space. Left with the imprint of his touch, the memory of his presence, and the anticipation of his return, you and Milo faced a home that suddenly felt emptier without him.

"I'll make sure t’send y’pictures from Italy," Harry called out from the hallway.

"And don't forget to spoil Milo a bit extra for me!" he added with a playful grin, the reassurance in his voice providing a small comfort amid the impending distance.

The day of his actual birthday, you woke up at seven am, which meant it was eight am for Harry.

It was a nice early face time call, in which you had called someone from the town near your shared beach house and got them to deliver flowers so they we’re scheduled to arrive whilst the two of you were calling, so you could see his face when he received them.

Little did he know, as the virtual celebration concluded, that you were already en route to Italy to surprise the love of your life.

His manager, Jeff, had orchestrated the clandestine journey, booking a flight that not only allowed your presence but accommodated Milo, your loyal puppy companion.

On the fairly empty flight, with just a few scattered passengers, you found solace in the quiet journey across the skies. Milo, nestled on the seat next to you, peacefully dozed off, completely unaware of the grand surprise awaiting his owner.

The hum of the plane engines provided a soothing backdrop as you envisioned the joy that would light up Harry's face when you appeared unexpectedly in celebration of his special day.

Upon landing in Italy, you and Milo were swiftly escorted off the plane by a discreet security team. The importance of maintaining the surprise for Harry became evident as the team efficiently navigated through the airport. The mission was clear: to whisk you away from the public eye, avoiding any chance of word spreading that Harry's wife had arrived.

Passing through passport control with just a carry-on bag in tow, the security team ensured a seamless transition. The anticipation heightened as you and Milo moved through the airport, surrounded by the subtle hum of secrecy. Every step taken was a careful manoeuvre to preserve the surprise and shield the unfolding celebration from prying eyes.

Exiting the airport, you were guided to a waiting jeep. The security team orchestrated a smooth transition, knowing that time was of the essence.

Jeff:

H just left for a meeting, so you’ve got at least an hour to get everything ready !!

As the jeep sped toward the villa, Jeff's text notification illuminated your phone screen. His message revealed that Harry was currently engrossed in a meeting, providing a valuable window of time to set up a birthday surprise.

The prospect of transforming the house into a beautiful haven of celebration filled you with excitement. Knowing you had at least an hour before Harry's return heightened the anticipation, and thoughts of his surprised expression fueled your determination.

The journey continued through the picturesque landscapes of Italy, the half-hour drive feeling like both an eternity and a heartbeat away from reuniting with Harry. Milo, sensing the energy, shifted restlessly in anticipation, adding an extra layer of warmth to the already charged atmosphere within the jeep.

The realization that the culmination of meticulous planning was drawing near only fueled your eagerness.

The mere thought of seeing Harry after two days of separation fueled your determination to make this surprise an unforgettable celebration of love and connection. The countdown to the reunion had begun.

"Here we are," the driver announced as the jeep came to a stop in front of the villa. You thanked him and handed over a ten-euro tip, expressing gratitude for the swift and discreet journey.

Grabbing Milo's leash and your bag, you stepped out into the Italian air, the scent of anticipation mingling with the promise of celebration.

As you approached the door, the distinct aroma of Harry's aftershave enveloped you, confirming his recent presence. A pair of his white vans neatly placed by the entrance hinted at the intimate details of his daily routine.

With a smile, you inserted the key into the lock, unlocking the door to a space filled with the essence of the man you dearly missed.

"Milo, we're home," you murmured to your furry companion, who eagerly bounded into the living room.

The atmosphere inside resonated with familiarity, and Milo, seemingly aware of the joyous occasion, leaped onto the sofa, his tail wagging in sync with the pulsating excitement in the air.

Upon stepping into the villa, you wasted no time. The suitcase that accompanied you served as a treasure trove of celebratory delights. With swift precision, you unzipped it, revealing an inflatable 3 and 0, along with vibrant banners that spelled out "Happy Birthday."

The living room became a canvas for your creativity, and the decorations unfolded in a dance of colors and joy.

Inflating the giant numbers, you strategically placed them to catch Harry's eye the moment he entered. The banners crisscrossed the room, creating a vibrant tapestry of celebration. The atmosphere transformed with each decoration, turning the space into a haven of love and festivity.

The decorating didn’t take long, maybe around half an hour, so that left you waiting, and each minute felt like hell.

You so badly just wanted him in your arms.

Seated in the midst of the festive setup, you pulled out your phone, eager to share the news of your safe arrival with your family. Fingers danced across the screen as you texted messages of reassurance and excitement, capturing the essence of this special moment.

The living room, now a symphony of color and joy, served as the backdrop to your messages, each tap echoing the anticipation of the grand birthday surprise awaiting Harry.

As you sat in the living room, engrossed in your phone, the jingling of keys outside signaled Harry's arrival. Swiftly, you rose from your seat, Milo by your side, his tail wagging in silent excitement.

Attempting to be as quiet as possible, you made your way to the entry hall, your heart pounding with anticipation. The festive atmosphere of the decorated living room served as a backdrop to the impending surprise.

Harry entered, shutting the door behind him with a sense of routine. His tote bag dropped to the floor, and in his initial distraction, he failed to notice the pair of women's shoes by the entrance.

His gaze scanned the surroundings briefly before turning away, only to snap back with wide eyes when he caught sight of you standing there.

His mouth parted in shock, a mixture of disbelief and joy washing over his face.

Time seemed to stand still for a moment as Harry processed the unexpected presence before him. The shock gave way to a radiant smile, his eyes lighting up with genuine happiness. Milo's tail wagged furiously, mirroring the palpable joy in the room.

Harry's initial shock dissolved into pure joy as he stared at you standing in the entry hall. Without a moment's hesitation, he rushed over, gathering you into a tight embrace. The warmth of his arms enveloped you, an unspoken reassurance of the love that bridged the distance between you two. Your eyes welled up with tears, mirroring the emotion evident in his gaze.

"Happy birthday," you whispered, the words carrying the weight of your love and the joy of this surprise.

As Harry lifted his head, his lips sought yours in a cascade of affectionate kisses. Each press was a testament to the depth of the connection shared, a celebration of love that transcended the days of separation.

The room, filled with decorations and the silent witness of Milo, became a sanctuary for this spontaneous reunion.

In the midst of the kisses, Harry's laughter bubbled up, the sheer delight of the unexpected surprise washing over him.

"M’can't believe you're here," he admitted, his eyes sparkling with gratitude. Milo, sensing the joy, wagged his tail energetically, completing the tableau of love and celebration.

“I couldn't not see you on your birthday," you admitted with a warm smile, still wrapped in Harry's embrace.

"Milo missed his daddy so much that we had to come and surprise you." You winked playfully, a cheeky smile tugging at your lips. "And, well, maybe I missed you a bit too."

Harry's eyes lit up with a mixture of surprise and delight.

"Y’really came all the way here just for me?" he asked, his voice filled with gratitude. Milo, sensing the joy in the room, barked in agreement, tail wagging enthusiastically.

Cupping his face in your hands, you responded, "Absolutely. Birthdays are meant to be celebrated with the ones you love, and we couldn't let a few miles keep us apart, now could we?"

“But I’ve got meetings the entire day,”he pouted, head getting thrown back slightly. “But I wanna spend the entire day with you.”

You played with the peach fuzz at the back of his neck. “Well it’s a good job I’ve cleared your schedule then, huh?”

“Wait,”he snapped his head over to yours from where he was staring lovingly at Milo. “So I’ve got the whole day with you?”

“We’ve got the whole day together, baby.” You confirmed, watching as his dimples appeared on his face.

In need of a refreshment, you and Harry migrated to the kitchen. As he poured himself an ice-cold glass of water, you settled at the kitchen island, nibbling on a cracker slathered with butter.

Looking at Harry, you asked, "Any cravings for today?"

He grinned and replied, "Actually, I've been craving a nice stroll around the town with Milo. Maybe we can stop for some ice cream and, perhaps, a cheeky bottle of rouge."

Harry's eyes sparkled with the prospect of a leisurely day. He reached for your hand, fingers intertwining, and continued, "What do you think, love?"

You offered a small smile, well aware that your current circumstances limited certain indulgences. "Sounds lovely," you responded, playing with the cross necklace around his neck. "I'm up for a walk and some ice cream.”

The wine….not so much.

/ /

As the day wore on, bathed in the warm glow of the Italian sun, you changed into a pair of comfortable denim shorts and one of Harry's shirts, embracing the casual charm of the town. The borrowed shirt hung loosely on your frame, carrying the familiar scent that provided a comforting connection to Harry.

Together, hand in hand, you and Harry strolled along the old streets, a timeless backdrop for the unfolding birthday celebration.

Milo, ever the enthusiastic companion, trotted alongside, his leash held firmly in Harry's hand. The cobbled streets echoed with the gentle sounds of your footsteps, creating a serene melody as you explored the charming corners of the town.

The quaint architecture and rustic charm of the surroundings added a picturesque touch to the shared moments of the day.

The narrow alleyways led you to hidden gems and inviting cafés, where the scent of freshly brewed coffee and sweet treats filled the air.

Each step carried with it the promise of discovery and the joy of simply being together. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm hue over the town, and the leisurely pace of the day allowed you to savor the simple pleasures of the moment.

As you continued your leisurely walk through the charming streets of Italy, Milo suddenly stopped in his tracks, his nose diligently sniffing around the ground. With an amused grin, you watched as he searched for just the right spot to do his business.

After a moment of consideration, Milo found the perfect place, and you turned to Harry with a playful expression.

"Happy birthday to you," you teased, handing Harry the poo bag with a grin. He laughed and fake gagged, taking the bag with a theatrical expression of horror.

Milo, seemingly oblivious to the lighthearted banter, continued with his canine duties, contributing his unique birthday gift to the day's events.

Continuing your walk through the enchanting town, you and Harry engaged in easy conversation, the cadence of laughter punctuating the air. The narrow streets echoed with the shared joy of the day, every step deepening the connection between you two. Silly anecdotes and playful banter flowed freely, turning the casual stroll into a delightful journey of shared moments.

As you meandered through the old streets, each corner unveiled new surprises, and every twist and turn became an opportunity for discovery. The simple act of being together, immersed in the charm of the surroundings, fueled the laughter and strengthened the bond between you and Harry.

As you continued your stroll through the charming town, the sight of a small bistro with a quaint outdoor seating area caught Harry's eye.

"How about we grab a bite there? it looks like a nice spot," he suggested, nodding toward the bistro. You agreed with a smile, appreciating the thought of a cozy meal in such a picturesque setting.

Heading towards the entrance, you were met by a friendly waiter.

"How can I help you?" he inquired. Harry responded,

"Just a table outside, please." The waiter, with a welcoming smile, gestured for you to follow, leading you to a charming table nestled in the outdoor seating area. The sun cast a warm glow, creating an inviting ambiance for a leisurely meal.

Seated at the quaint table, Milo by your side, the waiter handed you the menus. "Browse through these, a waiter will be over shortly, and let me know if there's anything else you need," he offered before leaving you to peruse the options. The aroma of delectable dishes wafted through the air, enhancing the anticipation of a delightful meal in the heart of the town.

Harry, glancing at the menu, looked up at you with a playful grin.

"What are you in the mood for, m’love?" he asked.

You.

Wait what?

As you and Harry enjoyed the cozy atmosphere of the bistro, another waiter, a friendly woman with a welcoming smile, approached your table.

"Good evening! Do you know what you'd like to order?" she inquired, pen poised above her notepad.

Harry, ever decisive, was the first to respond.

"I'll have a glass of y’house red wine, please," he said, glancing at the wine list.

Turning to you, the waiter asked, "And for you, ma'am?"

You flashed a smile and softly shook your head.

"I'll just go for a fresh lemonade, please." Attempting to steer away any suspicion, you added, "Feeling like something light today."

Harry, catching the cue, chimed in, "Just a light and easygoing evening, you know?"

He winked at you, his eyes filled with playful complicity.

The waiter jotted down your drink orders and nodded. "Certainly, a glass of red wine and a fresh lemonade. Now, what can I get for your main courses?"

You perused the menu, deciding on a chicken salad, and Harry opted for the salmon antipasto. You exchanged glances, sharing a silent agreement on the choices. As the waiter collected your menu choices, she remarked,

"Excellent choices! Your orders will be out shortly. Enjoy your evening!"

With the waiter's departure, Harry leaned in with a teasing grin.

"A fresh lemonade, m’love? Feeling like a saint today, are we?" he quipped, his playful banter laced with affection.

You chuckled, playing along. "Well, saints need a refreshing drink too, don't they? Besides, I'm saving room for that delicious chicken salad."

Harry laughed, raising an eyebrow in mock suspicion. "Alright, alright, I won't question y’saintly decisions. S’just enjoy this lovely evening and the meal to come."

The waiter returned with your drinks about five minutes later, placing a glass of red wine in front of Harry and a refreshing lemonade for you. As she walked away, leaving you two to enjoy your beverages, you lifted your glass and initiated a spontaneous toast.

"Cheers to your birthday, my love," you exclaimed, your eyes sparkling with affection. "I just wanted to take a moment to say how much I love you. I can't wait to spend eternity together, celebrating moments like these."

Harry's gaze softened, and he blinked his glass against yours.

"To eternity and beyond," he replied, his voice filled with warmth. "M’the luckiest person to have you by m’side. Here's to many more birthdays and unforgettable moments together."

The bistro's ambiance embraced the intimate exchange, and you continued to express your love and appreciation for Harry.

"You make every day special, but today, on your birthday, I want it to be extra magical for you," you confessed, your sincerity echoing in the quiet moments between sips of the refreshing lemonade.

Harry's smile widened, and he reached across the table to gently squeeze your hand. "Having y’here is the best gift I could ever ask for. Every moment with you is magical, and m’grateful for it all."

/ /

As the early evening settled around the villa, you found yourselves back in the comforting haven of your shared space. In the bathroom, bathed in a soft glow, you stood before the mirror, carefully removing mascara and eyeliner.

The simple act of cleansing away the day's makeup was a routine that marked the transition from daytime adventures to the quiet moments of the evening.

Meanwhile, in the bedroom, Harry lay on the bed, Milo nestled at his feet. He absentmindedly scratched at the short growth of hair on his head, a subtle reminder of a recent decision to shave it off.

The room radiated with a sense of tranquility as you each indulged in the rituals that marked the end of the day.

Wearing one of Harry's shirts that enveloped you in the familiar scent of him, you busied yourself in the bathroom, preparing a late evening birthday surprise.

The soft rustling sounds of your movements echoed against the backdrop of Harry's contemplative scratching, creating a harmony of shared space and intimate connection.

With a soft smile gracing your lips, you glanced at yourself in the bathroom mirror before deciding it was time to return to the bedroom.

Your hands were discreetly behind your back, holding a late evening birthday surprise for Harry. As you stepped into the bedroom, Harry, already seated on the bed, noticed your presence and sat up, beckoning you with open arms.

"I want a cuddle," he declared, his eyes twinkling with a playful warmth. Unable to resist his endearing request, you let out a soft giggle at his baby-like antics.

Playfully, you approached the bed as he beckoned you forward.

Crawling onto the bed next to him, you let yourself be enveloped in his arms. You laid your head on his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart echoing comfort and love.

The anticipation of the surprise gift still hidden behind your back added an extra layer of excitement to the intimate moment.

"I missed you," Harry murmured, his voice a gentle caress. You pressed a kiss over his heart, savoring the warmth of the connection. His arms tightened around you, embracing the familiar comfort of being close.

Taking a deep breath, you looked at Harry with a warm smile, saying, "I've got one last present for you. Close your eyes."

Harry hesitated for a moment, a playful smirk tugging at his lips, before obediently shutting his eyes. With gentle steps, you moved towards him, the late evening's golden glow casting a soft ambiance around you.

In your hands, you held a delicate gift, and with a mix of hesitation and tenderness, you softly placed it in Harry's hands.

"Okay, open your eyes," you instructed, your heart fluttering with a secret that had the power to change your lives forever.

Harry blinked his eyes open, and as he glanced down at his hands, a flicker of confusion passed over his face. Then, his gaze landed on the small object nestled in his palms.

It took a moment for the realisation to sink in, and when he saw what it was, his eyes widened, and he gasped.

"What... is this?" Harry stammered, his voice shaky with emotion.

His trembling fingers picked up the small pregnancy test.

The room fell silent as the weight of the revelation settled in. Harry's eyes locked onto the test, and tears immediately welled up.

"S’this for real?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "This isn't some sick joke, right?"

You shook your head, a mixture of joy and vulnerability in your gaze. Leaning forward, you pressed your forehead against his, tears streaming down both your cheeks.

"It's true, H. I'm eleven weeks pregnant," you whispered, the magnitude of the moment engulfing you both in a wave of overwhelming emotions.

Harry's breath caught, and he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes.

"I... we're going to be parents?" he uttered, a mix of disbelief and elation in his voice.

A tender smile graced your lips, and you nodded. "Yes, Harry. We're going to be parents."

Tears rolled down his cheeks as he pulled you into a tight embrace.

"I can't believe it. M’going to be a dad," he mumbled against your hair, his voice filled with a joy that echoed through the room.

Overwhelmed with emotion, Harry leaned forward, his hand gently pressing against your stomach as if trying to connect with the new life growing within.

The tender touch conveyed a depth of love that words could only strive to express. His lips found yours in a sweet, lingering kiss, and as he pulled back, he whispered, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

“This is the best birthday ever,”he spoke, chocking out a soft sob. “Thank you m’love, thank you, thank you for making us parents.”

You softly placed your hands on his cheeks to get him to look at you, and when his green eyes met yours, you smiled at him tenderly.

“Happy 30th Birthday, Baby.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Rock, Meet Hard Place 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss makes a deal that proves less than beneficial for you.

Characters: Nick Fowler, Lloyd Hansen

Author’s Note: This is what you asked for so don't even.

Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

“Alright, sweet thing, you just make sure he knows I’m on his way, won’t you?” Hansen drawls over the phone. You roll your eyes. 

“Yes, I will definitely do my job, Hansen,” you click around the computer as you drone dully towards the speaker phone. 

“Always so obedient, baby face.” 

“Mm, sure. ETA?” You ask curtly. 

He chuckles, “you sure know how to sweet talk.” 

“I’ll say... about an hour? Is that correct?” You rebuff. 

“You’re good,” he praises. 

“I’ll let Fowler know.” 

You reach over and hang up before he can get his next quip out. You can see why your boss isn’t his biggest fan, though you can’t say Fowler isn't much better. He’s grating in a much different way. 

You stand up and check your watch. You cross the office and knock on the door to the left of your desk. Your boss grumbles from the other side. 

“One hour,” you call through. 

“In,” he demands. 

You sigh. You really don’t need any more of his griping. All morning he’s been stressing you about Hansen. He really has no right to be so whiny. He chose this. He said the contract was too good to pass up. Faced with consequence of his own greed, he makes sure he’s not the only one to suffer for it. 

No matter how many times you remind him that business is business and you need to just get it over with, he doesn’t let up. You open the door and step inside. 

“Fowler,” you cross your arms. “I wouldn’t recommend any more caffeine.” 

“How do you know—maybe I don’t want another coffee.” 

“You shouldn’t have one but I could make some decaf,” you suggest. 

“Do you always have to do that? You don’t know what’s in my mind.” 

“I know you have your knife is in your boot and I would suggest you leave it at your desk,” you shrug. 

“You don’t always know,” he snarls and rolls his chair back. He bends his ankle over his knee and unstraps the sheath. “There, happy.” 

“Happy is a relevant emotion. I’m content. One hour, Fowler.” 

“One hour,” he mocks. “If you weren't so damn efficient...” 

“I know, sir, I’d be working for some CEO in New York, living every young girl’s dream.” You turn to the door. “About fifteen years too late.” 

You leave him as he issues another grumble. You pace around the office and go to the window. You peer out at the green lawns and let your vision blur. You chose to never be a wife or mother, too much hassle, yet after everything, you’re still reining in children. Forty-year old manchildren. 

“New jacket,” Fowler comments as he emerges from his office. 

“It was new about five years ago,” you turn to face him and lean on the trim of the window. 

“Which one?” He holds up two hangers; a leather jacket and a blue blazer. You squint.  

“You joining a golf club or a biker club?” You snip. 

“Don’t be a smart ass,” he tosses the leather jacket into the cushioned chair against the wall and unhooks the blazer from the hanger. “I swear, I don’t need lip from the both of you.” 

“What do you mean? Hansen was absolutely delightful.” The dryness in your voice chafes in the air. He shakes his head. 

“Idiot,” he mutters, “but a deadly idiot.” 

He pops his collar before he pulls the jacket over his shoulders. He folds it back down and goes to the oval mirror hung to the right of the door. He fixes a shank of his short hair as it juts up from his crown. You watch, disinterested, from your perch against the window sill. 

“You couldn’t put a dress on for the special occasion,” he challenges as he faces you. 

You have to keep from flicking your eyes up. You go to your desk and sit, “I’ll wear one when you do.” 

“Wouldn’t you like a peek?” He scoffs. 

You don’t answer. He might despise Hansen for the same, but he can be cocky in his own right. Most men in this line of work, or just at that level, have an overinflated ego. Likely a bit of compensation for lacking elsewhere. 

“Come on, let’s get moving,” he snaps his fingers. “What do you think? Outside? The den? Dining room?” He asks. “I could sit at the end of the table, have him stand at the other end like a peasant in a medieval court?” 

“Oh, this is going to go well,” you stand again. 

“Ah, come on, Harpy, you’ll be there to keep us civil.” 

You give him a look. He tosses the nickname out when he wants to irk you but he’s yet to get the reaction he wants. You don’t let him have that much. He gets twelve hours of your day, sometimes more, and nothing else. 

“So maybe I should bring the knife,” you remark. 

“Mm, interesting. He definitely wouldn’t see it coming but I think those daggers in your eyes are sharp enough to keep him at bay,” he snickers.  

“If you really want my opinion,” you approach him, “meet him in the den. Have a drink. Keep his hands busy.” 

“Oh, are you worried about me? You think I can’t handle him?” 

“Not worried. I know the kind of man he is. And the kind you are,” you muse. “You should both keep your hands visible. I don’t like cleaning up blood.” 

He laughs again. 

“No coffee, but I can have whiskey? Guess that’s fair,” he turns on his heel and struts into the hall. You follow.  

You won’t say it, but you don’t see why you need to be there at all. It’s hardly the sort of meeting where you need to keep minutes. 

[honeyhenry]

Apple Pie and You and I

A little story of the Seresins aka Hangman being a softie for his girl. Fluff, no warnings, please enjoy!

Jake Seresin, a lone star state boy through and though, always found himself feeling closer to home with a warm apple pie and a country song playing with a gentle thrum on his Pop’s old record player in the room next door.

The only time he felt closer to a sense of home was with you - his lovely lady who had managed to lure and capture the Hangman hook line and sinker by batting her pretty lashes and making him work hard for her attention. It had taken him 3 weeks of smirks that turned to smiles, and insistence that turned into nothing shy of begging, for you to agree to a date. The only holding back he’d done was in omitting to state the thought that had urged him to act in the first place; “Oh, she's gonna be my wife someday.”

The typically cocksure brazen pilot hadn’t the need to utter those words for another 14 months, past the utterly exclusive dating period, nor in between months of loved up sweetness and the pained inevitability of month-long deployments. He’d told you the very moment after his 1 month deployment - which had extended into 7 and a half weeks - of a monogamous routine, where a few pictures and fond memories were just not cutting it any more.

The tarmac had scratched the khaki material of his bags as he'd dropped them with a heavy thud to the ground, only eager to reach your arms sooner. Your little sundress catching in the soft wind, the warmth of the sun heating your cheeks and nose as he engulfs you in his arms, holding tight before he'd pulled his head away to take a proper long look at your pretty face - and then brought your lips to his. He'd kissed you over and over and over, the smile on his face growing every time, your eyes clear and watering, having waited for this moment.

And quietly, once the decision was made to catch your breaths, he'd whispered, lips ghosting over yours, that you were it for him. That he was going to marry you.

According to the Navy, Hangman had no one at home, no next of kin unless you provided the contacts of his parents down in their ranch a few states away should there ever be the need for the passing over of belongings and dog tags to fatefully occur. But Jake Seresin? He had a whole life to get back to; one he needed to kick start with a ring and a question.

The ring itself would be an heirloom, no doubt about it, and had required a trip back to Texas to see his family and share with them his upcoming plans. Having met you a handful of times over Christmas and on big family birthdays, the Seresins were entirely on board. Jake's Momma had given him a close hug with tears in her eyes while his Dad and siblings cheered and grinned the classic Seresin smile. Their family often grew each year, but his Momma and Grammie had worried that their headstrong, flirtatious boy would get too caught up in the ways of the world to settle down. He was a softie at heart, and you had been the best thing to ever happen to him.

They adored you. Enough for Grammie to take her grandson into her study, and open the jewellery box safely nestled inside a locked cupboard door. "This one is a diamond", she'd said as she'd taken out a piece." It's been in the family since before I was born. It's even got the family name engraved inside." Jake had taken it, listening respectfully to his Grammie but still lost in the thought of how the ring would look so beautiful on your finger. Thinking of you being his, forever.

That had been 18 months ago now, and the glinting stone on your ring finger, alongside a shiny golden wedding band, showing that all had gone to plan. Hangman proudly wears his ring too, occasionally looping it around his dog tags if need be. However currently, in the Lone Star state, the dog tags are off and his ring fits snugly on his fourth finger as he holds you close.

It's campfire night at the ranch, and you sit on his lap, curled in and admiring the way his face has caught the sun, inspecting every detail of him in the glow of the fire he had helped to start. He looks between his family; uncles, cousins, grandparents, now and then but his main focus is always you. Your hands clasp his left one as he uses the other to nurse a beer after working up a sweat teaching his youngest nephews to play football earlier that day. It had been so endearing to watch as you'd prepared the barbecue and baked fresh cookies using the special Seresin recipe, with his Momma and sisters.

"I got the recipe from your Mom, for the cookies, so we can have them at home." You'd whispered sweetly as the chatter around the fire continued. "Do you know", Jake murmured, looking deep into your eyes as his green ones pierced into your soul. "Do you know how much I love you?"

Your giggle had been soft and the eye roll that followed made Jake smirk lovingly. Still in awe of how he got the girl that barely spoke to him but was still batting her lashes and playing hard to get. He brings your hand to his lips, kissing the point just above where your rings lay on your finger.

"The kids'll love 'em. You're gonna be a great Mom." He stops smirking and now looks at you, fully focused with a soft, genuine smile. Placing the beer down, he rests his hand on your stomach, underneath the sweatshirt of his you've borrowed that splashes the words University of Texas, Austin on the front. It's old and thinning out but it smells of Jake, so it's something you will happily bask in and nap in and snuggle in until you have to leave his family home once more.

"Shhhh. I already think Grammie knows", you scold him. And she does. Grammie knows and as his Momma watches the two of you interact now, she's certain that she knows too. Call it a Mother's instinct. Jake's little check-ins throughout the day had not gone unnoticed, nor had your daily naps that you blamed on the heat, despite it only being the middle of May.

"But Grammie knows everything, a few more days and I can finally tell 'em all. Been dyin' to sweetheart." His hand rubs your stomach gently, not to raise suspicion but also to comfort you. Sure, as the cookies and apple pie were brought out, he had felt a little nostalgia, but with you in his lap wearing his ring, and his baby in your belly, Jake Seresin had never felt more at home than in that moment.

[thehusbandoden]

You Flinch During an Argument -Shinso Hitoshi

A/n: meow <3

Oh wait I think this is actually my first finished thing for Shinso. Am I doing him right?? Idk T^T

General info:

Genre: angst to fluff/comfort // Wc: 1,594 // second person

Warnings!: arguing, accidentally breaking a promise, flinching, and a little bit of crying.

Dabi | Hawks | Todoroki Shoto | Bakugo Katsuki | Midoriya Izuku | Shigaraki Tomura | Aizawa Shota | Amajiki Tamaki | Kirishima Eijiro | Shinso Hitoshi

Horror ate away at Shinso's conscience as he looked down at you in shock.

You, his beloved y/n who stuck with him through these difficult seven months of a new relationship. His one and only supporter, his first love, his best friend, and his partner.

He had promised you that he would never use his quirk on you unless it was related to training.

He promised, and he belived it too. He knew that he would never take control of your goregous mind.

And so why? Why did he let himself be so weak. So.. so out of control?

It was all a blur. He hadn't even realized that he activated his quirk that he despised so much. One second you were shouting at one another, and the next you were completely still, eyes holding no sign of their usual spark. That spark that was always present, the spark that he grew to adore.

He continued to yell though, not yet noticing that you weren't yourself.

"Why can't you tell that I did nothing! She grabbed my arm and I ignored her! I walked away without sparing her a glance- y/n she means nothing! You're the only one that I could ever possibly be interested in! So why are you being so stubborn!? Just- just stop!"

At his command you simply dropped the arms that were folded against your chest, going completely still.

That was when he realized that you weren't in your right mind- that it seemed like you were being controlled.

The realization broke his heart as he deactivated his quirk, causing your eyes to suddenly pop back to life.

Your face was contorted in confusion for a few moments before you slowly looked up at him in shock.

"Y-y/n I-I can explain." Shinso's voice was wobbly as he looked down at you, eyes wide in unbelieve, voice full of emotion. You've never seen him this shaken before, and to be honest it scared you. What.. happened?

"D-did you just control me? Hitoshi you better answer truthfully."

"I-I did but- please it was an accident- I- I swear-"

"Hitoshi.. you promised me you wouldn't. What happened?" You asked, tears in your eyes as your hands started to shake.

"I-I know baby I know but please it was an accident- I- I noticed when you stopped when I told you to-"

"How long did you control me Hitoshi?"

"Less then a minute- please y/n I didn't mean to!"

"But yet you still did. I- I can't look at you right now. I.. need some time."

"Y-y-y/n.." Shinso whispered, tears pooling at the edge of his eyes.

"Y/n... y/n please- I- I-"

"I-I'm just going to go.. I'll.. see you some other time."

"Y/n wait!"

"What is it.. Shinso?"

"I-I am so, so sorry. I'll understand if you're going to- to leave me."

"No, Sh- Hitoshi. I'm not going to leave you. I Just need some time to sort this out, okay? I'll text you when I get to my dorm, but other than that please don't contact me."

"O-okay.. I-I love you.."

"I- I love you too.."

~~

Three weeks later and you were still dreading talking to Shinso. You've texted him every few days to let him know that you were doing okay and you simply needed more time. He was understanding each time, and that calmed you down quite a bit.

You knew that you wouldn't be able to leave him. You've loved the boy for years. You fell in love with himin elementary school, admiring his quick wit and braveness fending off bully after bully. You admired him, you really did.

The two of you quickly became friends, and your love for him grew each day. You eventually worked up the courage to confess in your first grade of high school. He seemed hesitant, but he accepted your brunch date. After three dates in quick session he was the one to ask for the two of you to advance, which you accepted.

Less than a month in he confessed his love and you reciprocated his feelings. Five more months into your relationship and everything seemed so perfect. That is until girls started flocking him.

It made sense, he had recently gotten into the hero course and had outstanding looks. You would've been fine with it- but he didn't seem to mind.. at all. He wouldn't tell them to back off, or even tell them he was taken. He simply.. ignored them. It made you uncomfortable and you tried to reasonable about it, but he just wouldn't listen.

After a month of this back and forth you refused to be brushed off again and it ended up being both your first argument as a couple, and will probably be the worst one in at least a year or so.

You believed him when he said that he didn't mean to activate his quirk, but it still hurt. And you couldn't shake it off. You knew that you would forgive him, and this endless silence was breaking him, but you just needed more time. But you also knew that you couldn't wait much later or Shinso would be broken for at least a few months. And so, you scheduled a meet up. In three days, you texted Shinso to meet you in your favorite park to talk. He willingly agreed, and now you simply have to collect your thoughts.

~~Three days later~~

You took a deep breath as you looked yourself over in the mirror.

You were dressed casually, plain blue jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black leather jacket.

Looking over yourself worriedly, you smiled as you remember you complaining about this exact outfit to Shinso and how he told you that you looked nice. He hugged you from behind, gazing into your eyes lovingly before complimenting everything he loved about your outfit, accompanying each sentence with a kiss to your head, temple, forehead, cheeks, and then your nose.

He gazed into your eyes, taking your hand before telling you that you were gorgeous, and that he could never dream of anyone more perfect than you.

Smiling sadly, you hurry to grab your phone and wallet before heading out of your dorm, greeting your classmates as they smiled and waved at you.

Stepping outside, you hurry to the park, wanting to get there before Shinso does. Humming, you smiled at your favorite play list you were listening to, deciding that some of your favorite music would help calm your nerves and help you think clearer.

A few minutes later you arrived at the park, smirking as you realized Shinso wasn't there yet.

Ever since you discovered the park in the beginning of your highschool year the two of you started a tradition, if you could call it that. You never discussed it, but you had always rushed to see who could get to the park first, and Shinso usually won. He hardly cared about how he looked and didn't mind losing out on sleep to see you pout so cutely.

It was actually quite endearing, though you would never admit it out loud.

Sitting on your favorite bench under a large Oak tree, you pull out your phone to text Shinso, gently teasing him for being second this time. As you were about to hit send, you jumped as you felt a cold hand embrace your cheek. Looking at the hand, you scoffed as you saw Shinso holding your cheek gently, smiling teasingly at you.

"Got you.. again." Shinso murmured, causing you to blow a strand of hair out of your face huffingly.

"Yeah yeah, whatever." You pout, causing the boy in front of you to chuckle.

"So.. you're ready to talk?" Shinso prompted, sitting across from you, now nervous and unsure.

"Yeah... Listen Hitoshi, I know you didn't mean to, and I know that you feel really bad about it."

"I do, I really, really do."

"And I know for a fact that I am not gonna leave you for something so silly. I love you, Toshi and I want to hear the apology you've been dying to tell me and forgive you."

"Y/n, my Love, I am so, so sorry. I cannot forgive myself for losing control of my quirk like that, and I promise that I will do everything in my power to never lose control again. I also want to apologize for overlooking your feelings. In my head it was enough to ignore them, but now I realize that that was selfish and wrong, and I want to talk to you, calmly about it, and find a conclusion."

"I forgive you, Toshi. And I'm sorry too. I'd really like it if we could find some middle ground.. but first, we should get some lunch and go on a date, we've harldy seen each other in three weeks after all. Oh, and I love you I really, really do."

"And I love you so much more y/n, so much that it hurts." Shinso murmured, leaning towards you after every word, finishing it off with kissing your lips sweetly.

"I don't think that's possible." You breathe, causing Shinso to chuckle.

"Oh trust me, it is." He finished, pecking your lips once more before standing up, taking your hand to take you out on the best date possible.

Because there is nothing Shinso loved more than you, and he'd continue to prove it until the day he died.

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[sugurouge]

— i sin too much to pray for you : togame jo x f!reader

alternatively: you asked for my heart, but i didn't know where to start

summary: on another lonely saturday night, an unexpected visitor shows up at your doorstep. amidst alcohol and regret, unresolved feelings cause for a turbulent mix of passion and heartbreak. facing the ghosts of a relationship that never fully ended

wordcount: 2.6k

content warnings! angst, smut, heartbreak, toxic relationship, praise, petnames, mentions of alcohol

a/n: never thought i would return to writing angsty filth. i also never thought i'd write it for togame, but i loved every minute of it. the weeknd's nothing compares played on repeat

Saturday. Saturdays are always such a drag. An entire day all to yourself, with barely anything to do. You already finished your assignments and chores during your loathsome Friday night. There’s hardly anyone texting or inviting you out, so what’s the point in having a day off without anything or anyone to keep you company.

You exhale a deep breath as you stare at the ceiling, the projector casting a movie to keep you occupied, while the cocktails in your bloodstream taint your vision and mind.

Reaching out to your phone, you see a message on the screen. It’s the same guy as always. He’s nice, sweet, and caring, but just… just not him.

“Hey, what are you up to tonight?” is the question blinding your eyes from the brightness of the screen. It elicits a hum from your lips as your brows furrow. What exactly are you up to?

“just watching a movie. you?” Sounds good enough to you.

Another message pops up shortly after, causing the ends of your lips to curl into a small smile. “Can I come over?” At least your night might be a bit more exciting.

It doesn’t take long before you hear the doorbell ring, indicating that your expected visitor has arrived.

You get up and fix your loose shirt, barely caring about the tease you are as your shape pushes against the fabric. Not like you'd let that bore in for anything other than a quick distraction. Your feet carry you over to the door, and you actually feel a sick sort of excitement. At least you’ll feel something again and a little bit of warmth will spread through your stoic body. 

Yet, you’re met with those charming, intensely green eyes. It’s almost like it used to be.

Togame looks up as soon as he hears the door unlock. One arm keeps him leaning against the frame while his eyes greet yours immediately. He’s confident in his memory of your height. If he knows one thing, it’s your body after all.

He’s clearly as intoxicated as you are; it shows in the way he holds eye contact instead of fleeing to his smartphone. It’s the soft smile teasing his lips and his undivided attention all directed towards you.

Yet the silence between the two of you is exactly like it used to be.

Your fingers curl around the hem of your shirt, fiddling with the loose fabric as you press your soft lips into a line, your shy gaze never leaving his curious eyes.

Jo exhales a deep breath he didn’t realise he was holding as he steps over the threshold of your apartment. Deft fingers carefully glide over your arms, along your neck, before he tilts your chin up to look at him once more.

He always holds your face a little stronger than necessary, squishing your cheeks to give you the most adorable pout while he leans in and brushes the tip of his nose against yours.

It’s a teasing game of catch, the way he breathes against your lips without closing the distance between entirely. Togame leaves a ghost of a kiss on the corner of your mouth and feels your fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt.

It rewards you with a lazy smirk.

𓍯𓂃

The two of you broke up a little while ago. At some point, it just stopped working out. Old, domestic habits became a bother, rituals were abandoned, and conversations left unspoken. Something simply fell apart without further explanation why. Your friends assured you that, with time, things would be fine. Your heart would feel lighter again, and your smile would be brighter than it used to be during your relationship.

But somehow you never made it to that stage. And neither did Togame.

The emptiness inside your bodies left you growing bitter and petty. Both of you went as far as refusing to acknowledge your ex-partner if you ever met on the streets, fixing your gaze on the asphalt instead of at least greeting one another. You both forced yourself to move on to flirting with new people, going on dates—pretending to be perfectly fine. Yet sadly you could never fool yourselves.

Not when you continued to moan his name whenever another guy brought you to your orgasm. Or when Togame refused to acknowledge the girl he was balls-deep inside, instead opting to hide his face in the curve of her neck, a scowl plastered on his features and eyes squeezed shut as he imagined it to be you.

Then, how did you end up here? 

𓍯𓂃

One lonely night you called him, alcohol-confidence bringing out that little fighter in you. Apparently, your intoxicated self knew better as you slurred words of hatred towards Jo. How tired you were of his behaviour, how childish he was treating the girl he pretended to love, how he failed you. The rant was nearly endless, he listened to it all while hurried steps brought him over to your apartment. Only the repetitive knocking on your door and his order to open forced you to stop.

And once he was finally standing in front of you, there was no fire left inside your body. Instead, water took over, tears you held back for weeks running free once he embraced you. Hugs turned into kisses, and kisses turned into demanding touches. Clothes were ripped off along the way to your bedroom, marks of his love painted on your skin. It became a habit. A toxic habit to call his name like he was still yours, but resume to ignoring each other in broad daylight.

𓍯𓂃

Tired of his teasing, you stand on your toes, your eyes staring into his challenging gaze before your lips finally meet his.

Togame kisses you like a man starved, hovering above you like he wants to squish you, his own chest pressed against yours as if he didn’t tease you before. He knows his way around the apartment, knows how to guide your body while continuing to push his tongue between your lips. Past the hallway and your roomie’s door, the living room, until you finally arrive at your own little haven.

You’re pushed against the closed door, a warm hand resting on the back of your neck while the other teases your outer thigh, effectively stealing a soft whimper between your shared kisses. Your smaller hands clutch onto his broad shoulders, desperate to keep him as close as possible. Togame withdraws his touch as he feels your need increase and immediately twists the door knob, causing your bodies to almost tumble inside your room.

He’s swift to rid himself of his shirt, jacket long abandoned in the hallway, to bless your hungry eyes with his broad built. Don’t stare at him too long or you’ll drool. 

At this point it becomes muscle memory: The moment Togame approaches you, your arms wrap around his neck like they always did as he picks you up to carry you over to your bed. He lays you down right next to the plushie he got you—the stupid bunny he won for you during a summer festival.

His lips attach to your neck, leaving trails along your throat and collarbone before he tugs off your shirt and exposes your full figure to his advances. It’s his favourite body in the entire world—only covered by panties now. Those awfully cute pink panties. He bites his inner cheek as he hungrily eyes your curves, a different warmth now heating up your figure as big hands roam delicately along your body. Following the shape of your chest, rib cage, and waist, and digging into your hips to pull you closer to his growing erection.

The feeling of your body against his makes his breath hitch slightly, yet he never stops planting wet kisses along your breasts. His moans are drowned by your soft skin before his hot tongue plays with your nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive area until you become a mess of whimpers, nimble fingers tugging at his roots like you always did when he gave you too much.

Togame’s kisses lead further down, one love mark after another running from your collarbone down to your sternum. You arch against him, your hips gently moving to feel his growing cock, cheekily applying further pressure on your pulsing slit until you can’t keep up with this teasing any longer. “Jo, please no more teasing, I need you in me,” you whimper beautifully against his dark hair.

You were always the one to say what was going on in his mind whenever he struggled to voice his thoughts. Just like now. How could he not oblige.

Togame refocuses his attention to your face, breathing you in with an open-mouthed kiss, his tongue easily winning dominance over yours while your nails run over his back, tickling his sides and exploring his abdomen to finally unbutton his trousers.

Yet you can’t shrug off the feeling of the unusual atmosphere that night. Togame doesn’t let you push him back, doesn’t let you take control but opts to undress you and him entirely. The familiar, playful game your intimacy once was is completely replaced by providing you with pure bliss.

Deep thrusts inside your fluttering walls reward Togame with praises to his name, your hands resting on his back with your delicate fingers digging crescent shapes into his muscles as he continues to pound into you without ever breaking eye contact. Your bodies have rarely been so much in sync as they are in this very moment. It’s frightening how he leans into your touches, how your moans complete each other’s shaky exhale and his eyes fill with a pained expression.

Togame’s brows furrow deeply as he dips down and lays his lips atop yours, swallowing the waves of your orgasm as he paints your walls white and grips tightly onto your bedsheets.

Nothing compares to the emptiness you both share.

He holds your body close, arms wrapped around your exhausted figure tightly as he whispers sweet nothings into the crown of your hair. The sounds of your soft breathing turn his heart mellow. His teeth bite into the inside of his lips, dragging along the flesh and digging deep as he refuses to accept he is about to cry. He guards your sleeping figure, soaks in the affection you show him while dreaming about sweeter things. Your calm expression makes you almost appear angelic, and how cute you are once you nuzzle closer against his body as he teases you with a cool blow of air.

Only a kiss to your forehead takes the soft smile off his lips a moment before he unwillingly exits your apartment. Attempting to finally make you let go of him, to have you move on and to move on himself as the unsettling feeling of the dead ‘us’ spreads inside his body.

Leaving you to wake up alone again. His cologne still lingers on your bed sheets, causing your half-asleep body to further hide beneath your pillows and blankets—drowning your sorrows and thoughts in the final remains of his comfort as you try to drift off to sleep like you did so many mornings when you let him back in.

𓍯𓂃

Your meetups ended after that night. Neither of you contacted the other person again. Your chat got pushed down by conversations with other people, and you never touched a drink ever again. Instead, you faced your dull life, going from your daily obligations to the library, a café or bookstore until you eventually bumped into one guy one too many times, you couldn’t help but accept his advances.

Which brings you to sharing a piece of cake with him in your favourite café. The hot tea warmths you with its deep aroma while you finally enjoy the way this new promise of love enriches your life.

Until the little bell of the doorway chimes. It tears your attention away from the man in front over to the tall guy entering the shop. His eyes meet yours in an instant, as if he is searching for you. Well, Togame is always looking for you wherever he goes, but doesn’t really expect to find you.

Yet here you are, in all your glory, sharing a table with that literature guy he saw around the streets more often than he likes to admit. It’s a macabre joke how fate only allows him to meet you once you’re on a date. Togame curses the universe as he tries to appear nonchalant, approaching the counter to order himself a hot tea to fight the cold autumn winds.

The repetitive chants of his inner voice try to remind him of his motives for coming to the café, grab a drink, head back out. Yet they are drowned by the view of your hand coming up to rest on another man’s arm. He can almost hear your sweet laugh ringing through his ears as his lips press into a thin line. But this is what he wanted.

Yes, he brought so much struggle into your life, he can’t allow himself to be jealous. Not now. He hurt you more often than he made you happy. And by now he can admit that you stopped being his priority. But gods, does it hurt to see you with someone else.

The voice of the barista falls on deaf ears. Togame struggles to breathe calmly as the air gets stuck in his constricting throat. He’s suffocating on his feelings, his eyes burning in their sockets. The repressed emotions he held inside threaten to spill in public, in front of twenty other people in the café—in front of you and your date.

“Excuse me!” The stern voice of the barista jolts his attention forward.

He mumbles apologies and hurriedly places the money on the counter, grabbing his order and fleeing out of the shop. His signature glasses a desperate measure to hide his faltering facade, eyes locked on the grey asphalt of the cold streets.

Moving on was exactly what he wished for you, wasn’t it? That’s why he said goodbye to you in the most comforting way he could come up with. He’s not the guy destined to make you happy. Not the best version of a human to pretend to have a claim on you. But it’s the mellow ring of his name falling from the lips he misses most that causes the tears to spill from his eyes.

When has Togame ever shown emotions like this? Crying like a little kid? Laughing from the top of his lungs? Yeah, that’s not really his style. It catches him off guard, making him feel pathetic, lost, and overwhelmed.

Nobody cares like you do. The expression you’re met with as soon as you catch up to him mirrors the pain inside your heart. Your face softens as you see the tears roll down his cheeks, his alluring eyes glazed with a layer of pain.

“Jo…” you whisper, afraid your own voice might fail you if you were to raise it.

You stand on your toes—like you always have when he struggled to close the distance between your bodies. Your arms snake around his neck to draw him further in and allow yourself to hide in the familiar shape of his neck. The rapid speed of his heart pulses against yours while he tries, again and again, to swallow the lump in his throat before his arms engulf you tightly, surrendering himself to you and his emotions as his fingers dig into your coat.

Togame decides at that very moment that he won’t ever let go of you again.

Until your little voice tears his heart right out of his chest. “I’m sorry, Jo, but… I’ve got to let you go. I just wanted to say thank you—” Your sniffs force you to stop talking for a moment, and he wishes he heard wrong. “Thank you for trying to love me.” This is your last farewell to the first man in your life.

A soft peck on his cheek seals his fate before he watches your retreating figure walk off with another man.

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[emjayewrites]

monster mash • jobe bellingham (halloween oneshot)

SYNOPSIS: Justine & Jobe has some fun together after attending a Halloween party.

PAIRINGS: Jobe Bellingham x Justine (fc: @/themiaamoore)

WARNINGS: cursing, halloween stuff, mentions of sex, jealous!jobe (18+ only)

TAGLIST: @judesbabymamas, @judesprincess, @yeea-nah, @leilaxaliel, @f1-football-fiend @bbgkoo @irishmanwhore @lettersofgold @deonn-jaelle @sucredreamer @henneseyhoe @judes-hoe

A/N: One little halloween oneshot for Jobey….this is set in the Football Baes Universe. Read Hey There, Delilah to catch up. Gif by @jobesbabe

Jobe Bellingham had never been the biggest fan of haunted houses, but when Sunderland AFC asked him to join in on their Halloween festivities, he couldn’t say no. Besides, he liked a good scare when he knew it was all for show. Dressed in his Sunderland tracksuit with a club-branded beanie snug over his head, he made his way through a dark, creaking haunted house on the outskirts of town, complete with jump scares, fog machines, and an overzealous actor wielding a fake chainsaw.

The haunted house was packed with fans, and Jobe played along, letting out exaggerated yelps and laughing when some ghostly figure popped out of the shadows. His laughter was captured by the social media team as they recorded content for the club’s channels, and Jobe even joked around with some young supporters, pretending to be terrified for their entertainment. By the time he finished the circuit, he felt exhausted but thoroughly amused.

But his night wasn’t over yet. He had one more destination: Leeds. Justine had invited him to a Halloween party there, and despite the two-hour drive, he wasn’t about to miss out. The idea of seeing her, especially dressed up in some costume she’d no doubt planned meticulously, was more than enough to keep his energy up.

After dropping by his flat to grab his duffle bag with a change of clothes, Jobe hit the road, navigating his way to Leeds. The drive wasn’t too bad; he had a playlist queued up, blasting Halloween classics and a few guilty-pleasure pop hits to keep him awake. It was a crisp autumn night, the road lined with swirling leaves as the clock neared 8 PM.

When he arrived in Leeds, he parked in front of Justine’s flat, cutting the engine and slinging his duffle bag over his shoulder. The street was already buzzing with activity, costumed partygoers heading out, and he felt the atmosphere of the night ramp up. Jobe walked up to Justine’s door and knocked twice, then waited, wondering what costume she’d chosen this time.

When the door opened, Jobe’s jaw nearly hit the floor. Justine stood there in an adorable yet dangerously revealing Strawberry Shortcake costume. The bubble skirt, candy-pink and dotted with strawberry prints, barely covered her thighs, and her hair in braided pigtails that framed her face. Her corset top cinched at the waist, accentuating every curve, and the knee-high white socks completed the look.

Justine tilted her head, her lips quirking up in a smile when she noticed his expression. “Hey, Jobe,” she said, her voice carrying a teasing lilt.

Jobe’s gaze dropped from her playful brown eyes to her exposed legs and back up again. “You want me to two-foot stomp someone tonight, Jus?” he asked, his voice low and serious despite the smirk playing on his lips.

Justine raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “What are you talking about, Jobe?” She turned back to the mirror by her door and applied a shiny coat of lip gloss to her already perfect lips. The motion was so casual, as if she hadn’t just rendered him speechless.

Jobe stepped into the hallway, following her to her flat, then dropped his duffle bag by the door and shook his head. “You’re going out dressed like that, and you don’t expect me to put someone in hospital if they look at you wrong?” His eyes lingered on the bubble skirt that inched dangerously high as she shifted her weight.

Justine capped her lip gloss and shot him a sideways glance. “Relax, big guy,” she said, rubbing her lips together. “It’s Halloween. People are supposed to look.”

Jobe groaned, running a hand over his face. “Yeah, well, they’re gonna be looking a little too much.”

“Aw, are you worried?” she teased, stepping closer, her eyes glittering with mischief. “I can take care of myself, you know.”

“Sure,” he replied, his voice dry. “Until you need me to pull someone off of you when you’ve accidentally made them fall in love.”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile never wavered. “Come on, you big softie,” she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him further into the flat. “Let me finish getting ready, and then we’ll head to the party.”

Jobe followed her, trying and failing to keep his gaze anywhere but on her costume. It was going to be a long night, and he wasn’t entirely sure if he was ready for it—or for whatever trouble Justine’s Strawberry Shortcake outfit would cause. But one thing was certain: he’d do anything to keep her smiling, even if that meant stomping someone at the party.

Jobe and Justine stepped out of her building and into the cool autumn night, the air alive with anticipation. Halloween parties always had a certain thrill, especially in a city like Leeds. As they walked, Justine’s bubble skirt swished with every step, drawing the eyes of some guys they passed. Jobe couldn’t help but glare at them, the protective instinct in him flaring up. He might have promised not to stomp anyone tonight, but that didn’t mean he had to like the attention she was getting.

Justine noticed his irritation and nudged him playfully. “You’re making it look like we’re more than what we are,” she said, her voice teasing.

Jobe shot her a sidelong look. “Can’t help it,” he muttered. “It’s the bubble skirt’s fault.”

She rolled her eyes but laughed. “Anyway,” she said, changing the subject, “how’s it been? We haven’t seen each other in a bit. Student teaching is killing me slowly, but you?”

Jobe’s expression softened. “Yeah, it’s been a lot, hasn’t it? Football’s intense, but it’s been good to have a free day like today—and a bit of the weekend—to chill with you. Missed you, Jus.”

Justine’s eyes softened, a small smile playing on her lips. “Aw,” she said, bumping her shoulder into his. “So…where’s your costume?”

Jobe grinned and reached into his hoodie pocket, pulling out a simple, worn Ghostface mask. He held it up for her to see, and Justine stared at it for a beat before making a face. “Really, Jobe?” she groaned. “Ghostface? At least be Michael Myers or something.”

“Nah, too complicated,” he replied, sliding the mask back into his pocket. “Besides, Ghostface is easy. Throw on the mask, done. Scaring you is the only part that matters.”

Justine shook her head, amused. “Your creativity is off the charts, truly.”

They finally reached the venue, a brick building that pulsed with the bass of a popular Drake song. The party was already in full swing, and a few costumed partygoers lingered outside, smoking cigarettes and laughing. Justine waved to some of them, and Jobe was about to follow her inside when she stopped to hug a dreadhead Black guy dressed as Bob Marley.

Jobe’s stomach twisted uncomfortably as he watched. The guy’s eyes lingered a bit too long on Justine’s exposed chest, and it made Jobe’s blood simmer. “Hey Jus,” the guy said, his voice warm. “You look so fuckin’ good.”

Justine’s smile was bright. “Thanks, Keyon. You look good too. I love Bob Marley,” she replied.

Keyon’s grin widened. “I know you do.”

Jobe had had enough. He cleared his throat loudly, and Justine glanced back at him, eyes narrowing slightly at the interruption. “This is, uh… my mate from home, Jobe. Jobe, this is my schoolmate Keyon,” she introduced, her voice light but the tension in her gaze palpable.

Keyon’s eyes widened, recognition dawning. “The great Jobe Bellingham is in Leeds? Wow, that’s crazy. Can I get a selfie, my man?” Keyon asked, holding up his phone.

Jobe’s jaw clenched. “No,” he said flatly.

Keyon’s smile faltered, and confusion etched onto his face. Justine stepped in, giving Keyon a small, apologetic smile. “He’s just chilling, Key,” she explained. “Perhaps another time for selfies?”

Keyon nodded, still looking a bit taken aback. “Yeah, sounds cool,” he said, then offered Jobe a polite nod. “Nice seeing ya, mate.”

Jobe responded with a tight “Mmhmm,” and Justine rolled her eyes, grabbing his hand and pulling him inside. The music engulfed them, and the party atmosphere swallowed them whole. The room was strung with fake cobwebs and orange fairy lights, red Solo cups littering every surface. People in all kinds of costumes danced and mingled, some gathered around tables set up with Halloween-themed snacks and a punch bowl that glowed an eerie green.

Once they were away from Keyon, Justine let go of Jobe’s hand and spun around to face him, her eyes narrowing. “What the hell was that?” she demanded, folding her arms over her chest.

Jobe frowned. “What was what?”

“Your attitude toward Keyon,” she said, exasperated. “He’s my mate, Jobe. You didn’t have to be so rude.”

Jobe ran a hand through his hair, frustration simmering. “I didn’t like how he was touching you,” he admitted. “Or the way he was looking at you.”

Justine sighed, exasperated. “Jobe, we’re just fucking. You don’t need to get all protective. Keyon is just a mate, nothing more.”

Jobe gave her a skeptical look. “Bullshit,” his eyes seemed to say, and she rolled her eyes.

“Fine, whatever,” she muttered, clearly not in the mood to argue. The tension hung between them for a moment before the party atmosphere forced them to let it go.

The room was crowded, bodies pressed together as hip-hop music thumped through the speakers. The air smelled of spilled beer and sweet, sugary treats, and a group of people was playing some kind of drinking game in the corner.

“Want a drink?” Justine asked over the music, her lips quirked in a challenging smile.

Jobe nodded, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets. He watched as she wove her way through the crowd, mingling effortlessly, flashing smiles and exchanging greetings. His eyes never left her, and his stomach twisted with something he didn’t want to name. Jealousy, maybe, or something deeper, something he couldn’t admit even to himself.

Whatever it was, it had him feeling protective, possessive even. He exhaled, trying to shake it off. This was supposed to be a fun night. He’d come all the way from Sunderland for her, and he was determined to enjoy it.

Justine returned with two red Solo cups, a mischievous smile on her lips as she handed one to Jobe. “Here you go,” she said, raising her own in a mock toast. “To spontaneous Halloween adventures.”

Jobe clinked his cup against hers, a smile tugging at his lips. “Cheers to that,” he said, taking a sip. The drink burned slightly on the way down—cheap vodka mixed with some kind of neon fruit punch—but he didn’t care. The buzz was starting to settle in, and the energy of the party was infectious.

They moved into the crowd, the bass of the music pulsing through the floor and up into their bones. Justine led the way, her Strawberry Shortcake costume catching the colored lights from above. Jobe couldn’t help but smile as she turned to face him, her eyes sparkling. “Dance with me,” she demanded, grabbing his free hand.

Jobe set his cup on a nearby table, already feeling lighter and looser, and pulled her close. They started moving together to the rhythm of a Travis Scott song, the beat guiding their movements. Justine’s hips swayed in perfect time with the music, and Jobe couldn’t keep his hands from finding her waist, holding her close as they danced. Her bubble skirt rode up slightly, but she didn’t seem to care.

Justine laughed, the sound bright and carefree, and Jobe found himself laughing with her, caught up in the moment. She spun around and pressed her back against his chest, winding her body to the music, and he couldn’t help but smirk. The energy between them was electric, something simmering just beneath the surface, a push and pull he never fully understood but couldn’t resist.

From the corner of his eye, a figure caught his attention. Jobe glanced over and saw Keyon standing by the wall, holding his drink and watching them. Keyon’s gaze was focused on Justine, his expression unreadable but clearly interested. Something about the way Keyon’s eyes lingered made Jobe’s jaw tighten.

Justine whined onto Jobe, her body grinding against his in time with the beat, and a faint smirk played at his lips. He slid his hands lower on her waist, his grip tightening as if staking a claim. When he glanced back at Keyon, the guy sucked his teeth in annoyance, then turned and left his spot in the corner, disappearing into the crowd.

Jobe’s smirk faded, replaced by a flicker of irritation. He knew he’d have to keep an eye on Keyon. There was something about the way the guy looked at Justine that rubbed him the wrong way. The idea of Keyon trying to make a move on her made Jobe’s blood simmer, and that protectiveness he felt earlier roared back to life.

But as he looked down at Justine, still dancing and laughing, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of confusion. Why did he care so much? They were just friends with benefits, nothing more. He was supposed to be okay with that, supposed to be casual about everything. But here he was, feeling territorial and defensive, his emotions starting to get muddled in a way he didn’t like.

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. This wasn’t the time to unpack whatever he was feeling. Right now, Justine was here, with him, and that was what mattered. Even if his heart was starting to wonder if he wanted more.

The night felt electrifying, the energy of the party coursing through Jobe’s veins. He and Justine danced under the strobing lights, laughing and getting lost in the music. Their movements grew more carefree with every song, and when someone passed around a tray of Jell-O shots, Justine grabbed a couple, offering one to Jobe.

“Bottoms up,” she giggled, her cheeks already flushed. She tossed back the shot, and Jobe followed suit, wincing at the artificial sweetness and the sting of the alcohol. Justine was tipsy, her laughter coming more freely, and she pulled him through the crowd, weaving between clusters of people until she found some of her friends from her teaching program.

“Guys, this is Jobe,” she introduced him with a wide smile, her words slightly slurred. “He’s from home. Like, you know… Birmingham. And a footballer. But don’t make it a big deal.”

Her friends exchanged pleasantries with Jobe, some a little more starstruck than others, but one of the girls brought up something that caught his attention. “Hey, Jus, are you still thinking about that grad school in the States?” the friend asked. “The one in Boston?”

Jobe’s eyes widened, his head snapping toward Justine. “Grad school in the U.S.?” he echoed, trying to hide the shock that must’ve been obvious on his face.

Justine waved off her friend’s comment with a lazy hand. “It’s not set in stone,” she said breezily. “I’ll see what kind of job I can get first, you know? Maybe at a good private school. It’s just… options.”

Jobe tried to push down the unsettling feeling in his gut, but it lingered as they left the party around 1 AM. The streets of Leeds were quieter now, a chill settling into the air as they walked back to Justine’s building. The conversation replayed in his mind, and he finally had to ask. “So… what was that about? The whole grad school in the U.S. thing?”

Justine shrugged, wrapping her arms around herself to fight off the cold. “It’s just something I’ve been considering,” she said nonchalantly. “But it’s not a big deal. Don’t tell me you’d miss me or something, Jobe.”

He rolled his eyes, feigning indifference. “Miss you? Nah, only a little bit,” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm as his arms wrapped around her body to warm her up.

She laughed, and they reached her building. Justine unlocked it and led him inside, where the warm air was a welcome relief. Once the door to her flat was closed, she began to undo the straps of her costume, her movements a little clumsy from the alcohol. “Help me with this,” she said, turning her back to him and gesturing to the corset that was laced tightly.

Jobe stepped closer, his fingers working to untie the laces. The corset loosened, and Justine turned to face him, her eyes meeting his. “Honestly, grad school in the States is like… Plan D,” she said softly. “A lot of dominoes have to fall for that to even happen.”

He couldn’t help the twinge of sadness that flickered across his face. The thought of her being so far away felt wrong, but he just nodded. Justine reached up, her fingers grazing his cheek. The tender touch sent a shiver through him, and she stood on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to his.

He immediately kissed her back, the connection between them deepening. His hands found their way to her ass, kneading her curves as their lips moved together. Justine pulled away slightly, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Put on the Ghostface mask,” she whispered.

Jobe’s lips curved into a grin, catching her meaning and the way her eyes had darkened with lust. “You’re a lil’ freak, ya know that?” he teased, but he pulled the mask out of his pocket anyway, slipping it over his head.

Justine giggled. “Wanna reenact Scary Movie?” she asked playfully.

“Fuck yeah,” Jobe replied, his voice muffled through the mask. He let out a fake growl, and Justine shrieked in mock terror, taking off toward her bedroom. He chased after her, adrenaline and desire thrumming through him, as the door closed behind them for a night of “fun activities.”

jusjus_tine • posted on their story 15 hours ago

story comments:

jobebellingham: fuckin’ bangin’ 😝

judebellingham: 👻

lilahamilton: u look good ❤️❤️

keyon_lawes: 👀👀👀

patsy123: my fave 🍓 🍰

[femd-archive]

a sub mako? overstimulated and he tends to touch us doing sexual intercourse, so tied up? 💋.

sorry for taking to long to reply (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥) but here it is! <3

ONE MORE

pairing: the legend of korra — mako x fem!reader

word counting: 0.9k

content warning: masturbation (male and female) | overstimulation | teasing | use of petnames like baby and precious | vaginal sex | unprotected sex | creampie | subtle dumbification? | mako is so whiny <3

side note: english is not my first lenguage, so i apologize in advance for any grammar mistakes

You couldn't help the grin that draws on your lips as you watch Mako's ruined face. He has his head throwed back, his bottom lip swollen from how much he bited it down to hide his moans and you could see the marks of dry tears left on his cheeks. It was refreshing to see the always-serious Mako ruined by your simple touch.

You leave a kiss on his cheek, resuming your hand strokes on his hard cock, squelching sounds coming out from each movement. The amount of lub mixed with the last three times he had cummed in the last hour make such delicious wet sounds. "Does it feel good, baby?" you ask, watching every detail on his body.

The veins and muscles of his arms pop up every now and then from how often he's clenching his hands behind his back. He's so use to be all over you when you guys are having sex, that you can tell by his body lenguage that being restrained on the chair by thight ropes is killing him. He looks up at you, glossy eyes begging you to stop, but his lips don't move to say his safeword once.

"Please...please precious" he calls out in a whimper. His erratic breath makes his cum-covered tummy clench constantly, making you able to see his abs every now and then as well.

"Mmh? What do you want, baby? Do you want me to stop?" you ask, using your free and clean hand to comb his hair back in a loving gesture. You see him nod, little whimpers coming out of his pouting lips. You copy them and talk to him in a mocking tone, teasing him. "Why is that, love? Doesn't it feel good?" as you ask again, you move your wrist in circular motions, rubbing the palm of you hand on his tip, making Mako's whole body twitch from the overstimulation, and little moans and whimpers start falling freely from his lips.

"It does! It does..." he cries out, "'s just t-too much" he says, but at the same time, he bucks his hips into your closed fist, searching for friction. How cute!

You let out a quiet chuckle before kissing the corner of his lips. Already half naked, you climb into his lap and align his wet tip into your equally wet pussy. "One more, mmh? Give me one more, baby. Inside of me"

You easily sink on him, making Mako throw his head back once again. His arms flex again, a reflex of wanting to wrap his arms around your waist and thrust into you, but he couldn't, and for that, he whimpers.

"I know, I know baby. It'll be over soon" you wrap your arms around his neck, starting to bounce on him at the same time you move in and take his lips on a heated kiss.

Mako's moans drown in your lips. His mouth hangs open in a silent moan as he feels your gummy walls wrap around his length, feeling his tip hit that squishy spot inside you over and over as your hips start moving in a quicker pace.

"Fuck..." you mutter, slidding a hand between your bodies to rub on your clit. Mako watches you with wide adoring eyes. You looked so beautiful lost in pleasure.

"Gonna cum" he whispers, voice already worn out to cry more.

"Yeah?" you whisper back, kissing his cheek. "Cum for me baby. Cum inside me"

And Mako didn't need any more permission than that. His hips buck up as he release his fourth orgasm inside you, whimpers and moans falling out of his lips as his body twitches, barely handling the overstimulation anymore. He cries when you don't stop bouncing and keep on riding him for a little longer, chasing after your orgasm as you were so close.

"I know baby, I know. Hold it up for me, yeah? Just a little longer..." you mutter, going back to rubbing your sensitive clit again. You close your eyes, throwing your head back as you feel your orgasm coming. "Fuck...fuck" you cry, moving your hips hurriedly, closing your eyes as you cum all over Mako's cock, who's watching you with half-lidded eyes and a fuzzy mind.

Your moves come to a stop and, exhausted, you throw yourself on Mako's limp body, circling his neck with your arms and hiding your face in the crock of his neck. Both of your chests move up and down with an uneven breath, taking your time to calm yourselves down.

"Mako? Are you okay, baby?" you ask after a while, pulling away from the cuddling position to take a look to your boyfriend's face. He was still pretty much out of it, but he had energy to throw a grin at your way.

"You almost milked me dry, precious" he slurred the words out of his mouth, making an effort to speak clearly.

You chuckle. "I take that as you're okay then?"

"Better than okay" he answers with a smile, before pursing his lips, silently asking for a kiss. And of course you give it to him.

"Good thing you have a day off tomorrow, because you're gonna be sore for a while" you comment as you undo the ropes around his wrist, finally letting him free. "Let's take a shower" you're already walking to the bathroom as you say that, feeling Mako's cum starting to run down your thigh.

"Uhm, baby?" Mako calls out for you.

"Yeah?"

"I can't feel my legs"

[sxplict]

⠀⠀𓋜 warnings : fem! reader. ōral [m receiving]. choking. spit. praising. tongue piercing. hair pulling. dacryphila. [.5k]

⠀⠀ " baby you’re the baddest , nobody else matters girl. "

streetracer getō . . . that loves when your precious plump lips are wrapped firmly around the girth of his dick. the elevating tingle of your stainless steel tongue piercing raking alongside his veined base , his tip prodding your delicate uvula with each stroke you glided against him.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀oh how he adored watching your teary-eyed expression contort with every buck he shoved down your throat. the black-induced liquid that tainted your beloved face , an impression he loved dearly. your acrylic covered fingers wrapped the end of his dick that couldn’t fit into your mouth , gripping and twisting his skin which earned you a few grunted moans from your boyfriend.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀" you’re such a damn tease , love. " rasp and hoarse , his tone lingered your senses like an intoxicating pheromone.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀thick , sleek , and calloused fingers made their way to the top of your head , a stern grasp tangling within your thick curls whilst he shushed your pathetic cries. deepening his length into your mouth was music to his ears as gags vibrated the sides of his dick. the girth far too wide to fit any deeper. all you could cough up was saliva that coaxed his base , your fingers kneading it into your strokes along his end.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀hazed eyes tried so desperately to keep contact with Suguru , though with how drunk you were from the sheer amount of booze you both shared prior to jumping into the back seat of his 2003 Nissan Fairlady 350z , that was almost impossible. His whispers of raw accolade did absolutely nothing to soothe the burning fuel that boiled within your abdomen , hums and whimpers dripping from your tongue while your lower half squirmed like a mouse.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀" f— fuck , y/n , just like that , baby~ " his words only worsened your state , head maneuvering at a more frequent pace with squelches and slurps filling all silence within his vehicle.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀one arm rested atop the head cushions in the backseat of his car , the other containing a solid hold against your head. his own tossed back as he allowed the alcohol to likewise consume his system , the euphoric feeling of your warm mouth practically swallowing his dick whole all the more enthralling.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the only thing keeping him from truly getting lost in the burning pleasure was your piercing dragging his walls , his urges to fuck your face settling as he struggled to contain himself from doing so. the thought was just too overwhelming , hips thrusting his entire length into your throat every other minute.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the popping sound that erupted from your lips each time you pulled his dick from your mouth was deafening , saliva dripping from your corners and lubricating his delicate tip. thumb pads found their way to his slit , rubbing your mixed liquids through it and earning a stomach churning moan from the man himself. teeth pulled the fat of your lip into your mouth as you continued to tease his climax , one hand fondling his tip whilst the other worked twists against his base.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀" keep .. f— fuckin' .. doin' that … 'nd i'll make ya .. regret it. " his broken threats were merely muffled out by the sounds of his own groans , a devious grin forging your expression.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀silence was your response as you lowered your head once more , oh so slowly dragging your tongue up the bottom of his base and through the slit of his tip. spinal chills spiraled Suguru’s back , a knuckled fist brought to his teeth all the while you continued to prologue his eager release.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀if not for his itching climax , he’d have you bent over the middle console with himself buried ball deep inside you. the more you taunted him , the closer his release inched up. not a damn thing helped , especially not when you puckered your lips around his tip and sucked his pre-cum from it , your tongue dancing across his slit yet again. eyes rolled and heads tossed at the ecstatic endurance he faced , hips subconsciously bucking his dick into your mouth yet again. though , this time he quickly took advantage of your vulnerability and placed his hand against the back of your head.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the moment you felt his rough palm against your scalp , you knew you’d fucked up. and he made sure you stared right into his piercing gaze as he vigorously abused every inch and crevice of your mouth. hands pathetically clawed at his inner thighs , eyes continuously rolling white with saliva dripping onto the leather fabric of his seats.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀" look at me , damn it. " his grip only tightened at his harsh words , your eyes barely able to make contact with his own with how rough his movements were.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀every time he collided his abdomen with your nose , his fat girth widened the stretch of your mouth whilst his tip kissed the back of your throat.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀" where’s that snarky grin at now .. hm? " he likewise taunted , bottom lip pulled between his bared teeth as he could feel himself becoming sloppy with his thrusts.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀alas , one final plow and his white seed painted your gums like a fresh bedroom , overbearing your throat as you struggled to swallow it all. however , all he did was slowly thrust himself further , forcing his juices down your insides. limbs dropped to your side , exasperated eyes far too lazy to open wide.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Suguru knew he’d have to get his car detailed after this , though it’d have to wait because he also had an obligation to make you feel good now , after all he’s put you through.

⠀⠀⠀ " hope nobody catch us , kinda hope they catch us. "

SINCERELY , YOURS TRULY Ξ ©SXPLICT, 2024

[neoarchipelago]

Torn between :

Simon Riley who doesn't not/fears to have children because of his last trauma and hating his father. It's terrifying to him and it'll take a LOT of therapy to even consider having children. It's complicated to even see himself being a father.

And

Simon Riley who, every time he sees you, he sure wants you to be the one for the rest of his life. And he remembers how happy his brother was with his wife and little Joseph, just wants to have babies with you. He's scared but he wants to do better, and he is sure that he'll be better, because this is half of him and you. He'll love him/her like it's the only thing he breathes for. So he waits, he keeps the idea in mind, that only sleeps past his lips when he's buried deep inside your sweet cunt, praising and cooing about how he's going to fill you up with his cum.

And then he keeps it in mind, until he pops the question, until he sees you walk to the altar, until the first dance is over, until he's in the private plane offered by Laswell, going to the honeymoon in a secret place Price offered. Until he walks into the hotel room, holding you in his arms. Up to the point he slowly undresses you, eating you up like a madman until you're left shaking and sobbing. And perhaps it's a low blow but he slips his cock past your folds, slowly, raw, feeling you stretch around his fat cock as he coos:

"gonna make you mommy love? Do you want that?"

And you're already a mess because he had too much fun with you before even splitting you open. You register the words, not truly the full consequences of your answer though.

"y-yes... please... please..."

And he's gone.

You barely sleep that night. You wonder how that man has so much cum cuz you're left dripping every time. He cleans you up gently after, making sure to finger his cum back into you.

And it's the first try... cuz as soon as he's home his baby fever is off the roof. But he doesn't know that the first try was all it took. Cuz your next period isn't here, cuz he's in shock and ready to cry when he sees you, tears stained face as you hold a hand over your mouth and the over a small test with two bars clearly marked.

And then he's almost unbearable for the next 9 months. He tells Price first, and then the rest of the boys. They visit you back home with gifts, that Simon makes a point of checking each of them. This stuffed bear has buttons he needs to take them off, the baby might choke, etc etc.

The labor, he's in internal panic, but his military training and the love he has for you build up a facade of care and calm that helps you, oh so much, for your first delivery, that was long and exhausting.

It's all worth it for the look Simon gives your baby, holding them, skin to skin. He looks up at you, tears rolling down his cheeks, chanting 'thank you' again and again. It brings you to tears every time.

The way he looks at you when you're breastfeeding makes you blush and feel adored at the same time. You asked him once why he does it and he says:

"you're doing such a good job mama... feeding our little cub like that... fuck, it's going to grow big and strong, you're perfect."

You fight the urge to throw a pillow at him as you blush madly. You hold your baby too carefully to even consider moving.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Me right now because of my hormones: