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#but it just made me feel so small in that moment
sttoru · 3 days
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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: your boyfriend comes to pick you after a long day at uni. sensing your jealousy about the attention he’s getting from your classmates, he makes it up to you in his own way.
tags. olderbf!gojo x female reader. fluff, tiny bit of angst, suggestive [make out sesh]. age gap — reader above 20, gojo early 30’s. jealousy. reader gets called ‘princess, baby, beautiful.’ not proof read !
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satoru’s arrival, as per usual, serves as pure entertainment for many students. it’s not often that they get to see such a tall and handsome man around campus after all.
you patiently stand there, waiting for that said man to come and get you. the increase in giggles and whispers around you can only mean one thing: he’s nearby.
your boyfriend’s car comes to a stop in the distance. satoru steps out of the driver’s seat a second later, one of his hands running through his fluffy, snowy hair.
‘. . damn, he’s fucking hot,’ ‘yep. heard he’s in a relationship though. sucks,’ ‘girl— do i look like i care? need him so baaaaddd.’
it’s infuriating to hear those words while you - his girlfriend - are standing close to them. you decide not to give those girls any attention nor do you try to speak up. it’s not worth the effort.
satoru closes the car door behind him, his hands in the pockets of his slacks while he strolls up to where you’re standing. it’s as if he’s walking down a runway - graceful, confident, every step executed with perfect balance.
he can hear the murmurs from the students around, but he simply does not care. his steady gaze has been fixed on you the moment he spotted your figure from across campus.
“cute,” satoru mutters under his breath with a small smile, blue eyes taking in the sight of you standing there against a wall. the way you’re fiddling with the strap of your bag while pretending not to have noticed him is quite endearing.
you look down at the ground until a pair of black oxfords come into view, stopping right in front of yours. you slowly tilt your head back until you’re face to face with the man himself.
“hey, beautiful,” satoru greets, his voice smooth and slightly deep, a faint smirk playing on his lips. his knuckles brush against your cheek whilst he admires your every feature, acting as if he hasn’t seen you in days.
you nod in response, whispering a small ‘hi’ before your eyes dart around campus again. your bottom lip pushes forward just a tiny bit to form a small pout.
. . and there it is; satoru knows that look in your eyes like the back of his hand. he’s seen that same pout before, along with the hint of jealousy lurking behind your gaze that you try so hard to hide.
he understands why you’re feeling that way.
the other girls on campus, the way they ogle him and whisper, it would make any woman insecure. but to him, there was no need for that. satoru is yours, and he’s made that known to every single soul around you a million times before.
perhaps they need to be reminded once more.
satoru wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close, his touch gentle and possessive. he can see how you’re trying to act normal, though he knows you way better than that.
the pad of his thumb rubs small circles into your hip as your lover leans in and speaks in a low yet intimate voice that only you get to hear, “oh? look at you, acting all tough with your little pout.”
“tell me. what’s up, princess?” satoru whispers, his breath warm against your ticklish skin. he lowers his head to your face and plants a small kiss on your nose, gaining a mix of delighted yet irritated whispers of the people around you.
“usually you jump right into my arms after seeing me— y’know, like a lil’ bunny,” the white-haired man starts sulking as well, pressing your body flush against his. “where’s my cute ‘n clingy babyyyy?”
satoru’s over-exaggerated whine makes your nose scrunch up, though you can’t deny the truth. he knows you better than you know yourself. he can see right through your attempt to disguise your jealousy, yet you’re still too stubborn to admit anything.
“whatever. come on,” you roll your eyes before grabbing his arm and tugging him forward. you want nothing more than to escape your surroundings. you’re getting tired of the continuous and unwanted attention satoru is getting.
it’s irksome. you know satoru doesn’t give them the attention they so desire - he never will - yet you still feel this pang in your chest whenever you see those girls shamelessly ogling your boyfriend.
satoru, being naturally observant, notices your sudden eagerness to leave campus. he can tell that your jealousy is growing worse because of the other students that keep on eyeing him. while he is used to the attention, he hates seeing it affect you.
the whispers and giggles from the other women are like white noise, insignificant background fodder that barely warranted his notice. you’re all he sees and listens to— no matter what.
your presence, your voice, your body, your soul. . . you’re the only one he cares about. he just wishes you’d realise that.
satoru wordlessly allows himself to be dragged off. his gaze is fixated on the back of your head, a mixture of amusement and worry glinting in those blue eyes of his. he can’t help but feel guilty. even if he didn’t really do anything wrong.
he wants to make it up to you, somehow.
once you reach the car, satoru gently shoos your hand away from the door handle the moment he catches you try to get in yourself. he reaches around you and pulls it open with a soft ‘click’.
satoru then surprises you by kissing your forehead— his free hand coming up to cup the back of your head. his fingers bury themselves in your hair. a subtle smirk tugs at his glossy lips as he senses the envious glares from the other, irrelevant onlookers.
that’s exactly what he’s trying to accomplish. to make it known to the world that he’s your man. he’ll gladly do it over and over again, until all of them finally take the hint.
“ladies first,” satoru gestures, his voice gentle and loving. he pulls back and smiles at you with his dimples showing. you’re slightly taken aback by the smooth gesture before thanking him in a small murmur.
“thank you.”
it’s silent for a good couple seconds after satoru gets into the driver’s seat. he settles his keys into the ignition switch, though doesn’t turn them. instead, he faces you with a small sigh.
your lover already recognises what’s up. you probably won’t talk to him until the jealousy subsides. but that isn’t how he wants to fix this situation— he wants you to communicate with him.
“hey,” satoru tries to get you to look at him. your body is slightly turned away, your eyes looking out of the car window. it’s painfully obvious that you’re upset with him, even when it isn’t specifically his fault.
“don’t hide from me, c’mon,” he chuckles and tries to make you feel better by bringing your hand up to his lips. satoru leaves small kisses on your palm, eyes peering over the rims of his sunglasses to gauge your reaction.
you still don’t turn to face him. you’re too caught up in your own feelings— too stubborn to talk about the jealousy and insecurities that are bugging you. you know it’s unfair to your partner, but you currently can’t fix your own emotions.
sensing your insistent reluctance to face him, satoru places his hand gently under your chin. his fingers curl around your jaw and gently guide your gaze to meet his. the sight of your downcast expression - plagued with insecurity - tugs on his heartstrings.
“oh, my sweet little baby,” the white-haired man sighs once more.
without another word, the gap between you quickly closes as satoru leans in, his lips meeting yours in a firm but soft kiss. a soft gasp escapes your lips at the suddenness of his kiss, but the tension in your shoulders slowly starts to dissappear as you melt into his embrace.
the touch of his calloused fingers on your jaw is a wordless command you cannot resist. the kiss is a silent form of reassurance, a way for him to remind you of his feelings for you.
his want and need for you.
satoru can nearly taste the jealousy etched into your initial resistance, which he seeks to silence with his touch. thus, he deepens the kiss with renewed vigor. his free hand cups the back of your head and gently tilts it upwards to gain a better angle.
“mh. sweet,” satoru’s tongue swipes over your bottom lip. he eagerly swallows the faint taste of candy that you had eaten earlier. his tongue delves into your mouth the moment your lips make way, memorising every part of it.
he doesn’t let go of you until you’re both breathless. the sorcerer pulls back, though keeps the distance between your lips at a minimum. his cheeks are painted a soft pink, eyes half lidded and lips even glossier with your saliva now coating them.
“haah— fuck,” satoru catches his breath while his free hand rubs up and down your waist. he resists the urge to pull you into his lap and ravage you right then and there. he’ll leave that for when you’re home.
his gaze is on your parted lips once more. he simply cannot hold himself back from leaning in. his body moves closer to yours, caging you in between him and the passenger seat.
“i’m all yours,” satoru murmurs against your soft lips. he cups your face as he places a quick peck on your mouth. “only yours,” another chaste kiss causes your smile to find its way back onto your face. “don’t you forget,” and a third kiss finally makes you giggle.
your lover hums in satisfaction. he nuzzles his nose against yours, grinning widely as he successfully managed to coax the jealousy away— to gain his beautiful, happy girlfriend back. “there she is,” satoru coos and squeezes your cheeks together.
you huff at the feeling of your lips forced into a deformed ‘o’ shape, yet the bright smile tugging at your lips doesn’t disappear. “sorry for acting so childish,” you apologise for your own behavior. if it wasn’t for satoru taking the initiative to make it up to you, you would have given him the silent treatment.
the white-haired man shakes his head. he ruffles your hair affectionately while his lips settle on your cheek. he tenderly nibbles on the plush flesh, “no need to apologise. ‘t was cute,” he replies in a muffled voice.
satoru pulls back and his thumb brushes over the subtle mark that his teeth left on your skin. “besides,” he pinches your cheek before cocking his head to the right. your eyes follow the direction he’s looking at— which is your car window.
“i think everyone finally realised that y’re the one ‘n only girl for me.”
your heart drops as you only then remember that satoru’s car windows aren’t tinted. that means that everyone on campus probably has seen the little make out session you had with your boyfriend just now.
your eyes quickly dart around the crowded area. the way your fellow students are glancing at you - some with envy and others with embarrassment - tells you more than enough. . .
you clear your throat and try to hide your face with the sleeves of your top. you don’t know how you’re going back to university after today without facing the humiliating consequences of your (satoru’s) actions.
your shameless boyfriend sits there and grins from ear to ear, proud of his accomplishment and oblivious to your embarrassed state until you speak up again;
“. . satoru, please drive away as fast as you can.”
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rafecameronssl4t · 3 days
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The weight of expectations || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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Summary: I know you guys wanted more soft moments between Rafe and reader in this au so here you go!!!
Warnings: nothing!
Word count: 1,532
MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)
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divider by @h-aewo
The dimly lit office in the Cameron building had always carried an air of prestige, a reminder of the empire Ward Cameron had built with his own hands. But now, Rafe sat behind the polished mahogany desk, feeling the weight of that legacy pressing down on his shoulders.
His reflection in the window—sharp suit, tired eyes, jaw clenched—was one of a man constantly battling his own demons. Rafe’s phone buzzed, pulling him from his thoughts. The meeting with Mr. Cartwright was scheduled for five minutes ago, but knowing Cartwright, he would make him wait a little longer just to make a point.
Rafe’s lip twitched in annoyance. This was supposed to be simple—sign the deal, deliver, and collect the reward. But like everything in his life lately, nothing was as easy as it seemed. As if on cue, the heavy doors creaked open, and Mr. Cartwright strode in, his presence filling the room with the unmistakable arrogance of someone who thought he could toy with the Camerons.
Rafe hated men like him. Cartwright was older, maybe late forties, with graying hair slicked back and a suit so tailored it made a statement by itself. Still, Cartwright had power, and Rafe knew they needed him for this deal. Rafe’s eyes narrowed, but he stood, gesturing to the chair across from him. “You’re late.”
Cartwright smirked, unbothered. “You’ve got nothing but time, Cameron.” Rafe resisted the urge to slam his fist on the table. The conversation turned cold quickly, escalating from subtle jabs to outright confrontation as Cartwright slammed his hand on the desk. “This wasn’t the outcome we agreed on, Cameron. I expected the deal to be completed two weeks ago.”
Rafe gritted his teeth, leaning back in his chair, trying to play it cool. Cartwright was testing him, seeing if Rafe would break under pressure. “Things take time, Cartwright. We’re working on it. You can’t expect a project this size to wrap up overnight.” But Cartwright wasn’t having it.
“I expected results, not excuses. I trusted your family’s name—your father’s name—when I signed on to this. Now, you’re telling me I just need to ‘wait’? My investors don’t have time for your delays.” Rafe’s jaw tightens, but he leans back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. “I think you forget I was my father’s protégé, and now I’m handling the business. You underestimate me.”
“I don’t care what your investors think. The timelines shifted, and there’s nothing anyone can do about that. We’ll deliver, but on our schedule, not yours.” Mr. Cartwright slams his hand down on the table, eyes narrowing. “Your schedule is putting my reputation on the line. I’m not some small-time client you can string along. My name holds weight, and if your company can’t keep up, I’ll take my business elsewhere.”
Rafe’s eyes flicker with irritation, but he maintains his composure, though his tone becomes icier. “You’re not going anywhere, and we both know that.” He leans forward, his stare sharp. “You’ve invested too much in this project to pull out now. So let’s stop pretending you have the upper hand here.”
Mr. Cartwright scoffs, clearly insulted. “Your father knew how to handle his business. You, on the other hand, seem more interested in playing house with your perfect little wife and children than focusing on the deals that matter.” The mention of you brought heat rising to Rafe’s face.
His jaw clenched as he fought to control his temper. The comment hit too close to home. Cartwright had no idea what his marriage was like, the public façade they upheld, the tangled mess of feelings that simmered beneath the surface. “Mention my wife again, and you’ll regret it,” Rafe spat, his voice low and dangerous.
Cartwright just smirked. “Touchy subject, huh? Maybe if you focused on the business instead of her, this deal wouldn’t be falling apart.” That did it. Rafe was out of his chair, leaning over the desk, his eyes flashing with barely controlled rage. “You don’t get to talk about her. You signed the contract. You’ll get what we promised, but on our terms.”
“If you’re too much of a coward to stick it out, then fine—walk away. But you’re not going to find anyone better than me in this industry, and you know it.” The room was tense, their stares locked in a silent battle of wills. Cartwright didn’t budge. Instead, he straightened his suit jacket, his mouth set in a hard line.
“I’ll give you one month, Cameron. If this doesn’t turn around by then, I’ll make sure everyone knows how your family is crumbling—starting with you. Rafe forced himself to relax, stepping back from the desk, his smirk returning, though there was no warmth behind it. “One month. You’ll get your results. But you don’t scare me, Cartwright. Cross me, and you’ll regret it.”
With one final glance, Cartwright turned on his heel and stormed out of the office, leaving Rafe standing alone, the weight of the confrontation settling over him. He ran a hand through his hair, muttering a string of curses under his breath.
~
It was nearing 8 p.m. when Rafe pulled into the driveway, his mind still buzzing from the heated argument with Cartwright. He had no doubt he could deliver on the deal—he always found a way. But tonight, Cartwright’s words had gotten under his skin in a way that lingered, like a dull throb at the back of his mind.
The quiet of the house was almost unsettling as he stepped inside, the weight of the day’s events hanging heavily on his shoulders. Making his way upstairs, Rafe entered the bedroom, immediately spotting you on the bed, nursing Leo. Your eyes were closed, head leaned back against the headboard, one hand gently patting Leo’s back as he fed contentedly.
Rafe sighed, running a hand over his face, feeling the tension in his body slowly begin to ease. As complicated as things were between you, there was an undeniable comfort in your presence—an unspoken understanding that neither of you acknowledged but both felt. Rafe quietly crossed the room, his gaze softening as he approached.
Leo’s wide eyes met his, curious and bright. Rafe couldn’t help but smile, reaching out to gently stroke his son’s cheek. Leo’s tiny hand immediately grasped Rafe’s finger, holding on tight. A warmth spread through Rafe’s chest, and for a moment, the stress of the day melted away. His eyes shifted back to you.
Your breathing was calm, features relaxed in a way that made you look at peace, despite everything swirling around your lives. There was something soothing about the scene in front of him—something grounding. Leo’s eyes never left Rafe, watching his father with that same innocent curiosity. “Tough day?” Your voice, soft but alert, broke the silence.
Rafe’s gaze snapped up, meeting your half-lidded eyes as you watched him, though you hadn’t moved. He straightened, clearing his throat as he walked to the dresser, his back turned to you. “Just another asshole trying to tell me how to run my business,” he muttered, slipping off his watch and setting it down with more force than necessary.
“Cartwright’s testing me,” Rafe continued, running a hand through his hair before heading turned back around, leaning against the dresser. “Thinks I’m not my father.” Your gaze softened as you watched him. “You’re not your father, Rafe. And that’s not a bad thing.”
His blue eyes searched yours, trying to figure out if you truly meant it. There was a sincerity there, a quiet support that he wasn’t used to. It disarmed him for a moment, making him pause as he watched you with a curiosity that mirrored his son’s. The way you moved so naturally—so gracefully—as you gently lifted Leo and placed him in his bassinet beside the bed was a sight he found himself quietly admiring.
A soft sigh left your lips as you tucked him in, smoothing the blankets before slipping back beneath the sheets. You glanced up at him, still leaning against the dresser, lost in thought. “Are you going to get ready for bed?” you asked, your voice soft but carrying that calm tone you always seemed to have when it came to him.
There was no pressure, just a simple question, but it tugged at something deeper within Rafe. He cleared his throat, standing up a little straighter. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec,” he muttered, his voice low as he turned back to the dresser, his fingers absently fiddling with the cufflinks on his shirt.
But he didn’t move right away. Instead, he stood there for a moment longer, watching you settle into the bed, the quiet intimacy of the moment wrapping around him like a comfort he hadn’t realised he needed. Despite the chaos that always seemed to swirl around them—around him—there was a strange sense of peace in this room, in this space they shared.
Even if it wasn’t always easy, even if things between them were complicated, there was something grounding in the quiet moments like these. And as much as Rafe hated to admit it, those moments were starting to mean more to him than he had ever expected.
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mywritersmind · 3 days
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TOUCH ME - LN4
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summary : y/n shows her affection through hugs, kisses, and just plain touching. lando is sad when he realizes that she does this with everyone but him.
listen up : no warnings!! cuteness!! singapore win!
word count : 747
⋆。‧˚⋆
It had been bothering him for months. Lando noticed when he and Y/n started becoming friends. After a long period of not liking each other, the two finally agreed to put their differences aside because of all their mutual friends.
Their mutual friends started becoming the issue for Lando.
She touches everyone. Not in a weird way, she just shows affection through touch… Through touching anyone but him.
Lando watches her in his drivers room, she’s drawing on the small whiteboard; a tiny lando and a tiny y/n in the corner.
“Why do you touch everyone?” He asks out of nowhere, she turns back slightly, giving him a look before turning back to the board.
“My love language is touch… I guess? At least that’s what people tell me.” She shrugs, coming to the end of the drawing.
“But you don’t touch me.” This makes her pause for a moment before finishing off the drawing and turning back around to face the man.
He's sitting on his drivers bed, race suit unzipped half way and water bottle in hand.
“You want me to touch you?” she raises a brow, teasing him a bit.
He looks down at his water, fiddling with the straw, “I just mean- we’re friends, right? You seem to kiss and hug everyone except for me.”
This makes her more uncomfortable, she slips her hands in her pockets and shrugs, “I don’t mean to not. I guess it’s just different with you.”
“How am I different from Oscar or Charles?” He looks up at her again, his eyes so bright, “They both have girlfriends and you don’t seem bothered.”
Y/n laughs, not thinking before speaking, “Yeah because I’m not into them like that.”
Lando’s eyes widen a bit, “But- you’re into me… like that?” Y/n decides there is two options,
1. Confess her feelings for Lando, ruining all the progress they’ve made to have a good and comfortable friendship while simultaneously risking rejection from someone she really cares about.
2. Lie.
Two seems safer.
“Of course not.” she shakes her head.
Lando doesn’t believe her, or he just doesn’t want to believe her, “So why don’t you touch me? Even after I won in Zandvoort you didn’t hug me.” she hadn't realized how much this had hurt him. She was simply thinking about the hundreds of cameras facing them and how she was already blushing.
Someone knocks on the door then, calling out, “Lando, Warm up starting now.” He swallows, looking up at Y/n.
“I’ll go.” She says quietly, wondering how everything so quickly went south, “Good Luck, Lan.”
⋆。‧˚⋆
Y/n watched the race with Max, on the edge of her seat and sweating. The moment Lando crossed the finish line, a grin was permanently planted onto her face.
After every interview, the podium, a shower, and change of clothes, he walked out to the track where Y/n sat.
She jumped up and hugged him.
“You’re so fucking amazing.” Lando’s heart skipped a beat.
“Enjoy the race?” He smiles as she pulls away, her hands joining and clapping.
“Duh! Everyone else was all boring and whatever but you did so well! Twenty seconds ahead- shit!” even though he was in the race and just had a thirty minute meeting about it, he could listen to her talk about it for hours. “And Lan, about before- I really didn’t mean to hurt you it’s just different and I don’t know why but I swear it’s not to be mean! You’re my friend and-”
“Just friend?” Lando stops her immediately.
She looks up at him, “Well… I always thought-”
“I fancy you. I have for a while.” He just spits it out, his hands on her elbows as she stares blankly at him.
She blinks, “You’re not taking the piss are you because I swear!” He kisses her then.
She’s laughing against him as he pulls her closer, touching her softly and savoring it.
“I like you too.” She blushes. “And fuck you for not telling me sooner!”
He scoffs, “You could have as well! Plus you’re so damn mysterious I couldn’t tell if I should be flattered at your yelling or scared.”
She laughs, kissing his cheek before resting her head on his chest.
He puts his arms around her, his heart beating rapidly, “If you touch your friends like that then i’m damn excited to see how you treat your boyfriend.”
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wileys-russo · 2 days
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Alexia - family backyard BBQ - “I’m going to marry you”
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ring first II a.putellas
"-how you say it?" alexia frowned, sat on the counter watching you cook as you turned around with a smile. "marry me chicken." you repeated for the third time, the catalan woman mumbling it under her breath but not looking any less confused.
"por qué? you marry the chicken?" the midfielder questioned with an adorable look on her face making you laugh. "when you eat it, you will understand." you promised her with a grin, swatting away her foot with a playful glare as it poked at your ass.
"are you going to do anything to help? or just sit there and ask me questions?" you raised an eyebrow, moving the chicken to the side so you could focus on the sauce.
"princesa you told me you did not want help to cook!" your girlfriend scoffed causing you to roll your eyes fondly.
"you could go and change the sheets on the bed over, so they are done when we get back tonight." you suggested, turning back around and feeling her hazel eyes roaming over you from behind.
"lo siento, no entiendo inglés." alexia sighed with a shake of her head as you paused, narrowing your eyes at her over your shoulder. "lo siento, no más sexo." you shrugged, grinning to yourself at the way the blonde scrambled to jump down from the counter.
"alexia!" you laughed as her arms looped around your waist, peppering kisses all over your face and mumbling apologies. "go and make the bed!" you ordered, pushing into her and nudging her away, her hand grabbing your chin and pecking your lips twice as you hummed.
"te amo." alexia stated as again you only hummed, turning back to the stove as the catalan frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. "te amo!" she repeated louder this time assuming you hadn't heard.
"sorry, no spanish." you glanced at her with an apologetic pout, squealing at the way her hand connected with your ass with a huff. "i love you. go be useful!" you pushed at her shoulders, the footballer grumbling her annoyances but going to do as you'd asked.
"ah! no." you smacked your girlfriends hand as you were covering the chicken with foil, everything else packed and ready to go as the two of you were about to head off to her mami's house for a family bbq.
"que? mi amor, one taste." alexia tried again, knuckles rapped with the handle of the ladel you were using to get the last of the sauce into the container as she gasped.
"at dinner? you can have as much as you want." you promised, kissing away her protests as the taller girl melted, as always she was wrapped around your little finger.
"is alba meeting us there or did you say you would pick her up?" you questioned, alexia's head a little woozy as you pulled away, the blonde nodding wordlessly as you grinned, patting her cheek lightly with a wink.
"close your mouth putellas, you'll catch flies."
there was a collectively loud cheer as the pair of you walked out into the backyard, already having been greeted by a handful of alexia's tia's and her mami eli who were in the kitchen getting everything ready.
despite the fact you'd been broken apart to continue with the greetings you were acutely aware of your girlfriends eyes on you as you made your way around the yard, hugged and kissed by her relatives who took you in as one of their own, your own family still based in england but they adored alexia just as much as hers cared for you.
and sure enough just like a magnet the moment she was free again she was drawn to your side, an arm settling comfortably over your shoulder as you leaned into her, the pair of you taking a seat and joining in with conversation.
it was about an hour later that the food was ready and your eyes almost bugged out of your head at the sheer amount of it, easily enough for a small army despite the fact there couldn't have been more than fifteen or so people present.
"i told you to bring the eh...how you say? tupperware?" alexia mumbled in your ear, accented english making you laugh and smack her chest with a grin. "sí, but when does your mami not already send us home with a doggy bag?" you quipped, watching her eyebrows furrow together as alba handed the pair of you a plate each.
"dog? que? why would mami give us a dog?" your girlfriend questioned as you bit your lip to stop from teasing her, knowing that as much as her english was better than your spanish, there were still some idioms that flew over her head.
you settled for an amused smile, merely pecking her lips and chuckling as her younger sister made a gagging noise in front of you, alexia's hand shooting out to smack the back of her head as they started to bicker.
that all fell silent as eli popped up out of nowhere, a stern glare and they were already focused on food again, alexia dishing up for the pair of you as you swooned at the small gesture, kissing her cheek in thanks as you both took a seat at the table.
"marry me chicken." alexia pointed to the dish on her plate as you nodded, a slight blush on your cheeks as praise was tossed at you all across the table from her family who'd already started to eat, a laugh leaving your lips as you promised eli you'd show her how you made it.
"good?" you asked as alexia took a bite, pausing for a moment to chew and swallow as you traced circles against her thigh under the table, awaiting her response.
"i am going to marry you." was all the midfielder said, grabbing your face in her hands and pressing a kiss to your lips causing cheers and whistles to errupt as your neck flushed bright red, grinning as your girlfriend began to shovel food into her mouth.
"ring first my love." you teased quietly in her ear, squeezing her knee and tapping your finger with a sly smile, attention captured by her cousin across from you who asked a question, missing the way alexia stared at you adoringly.
little did you know, the ring was already sorted, and true to her word alexia was going to marry you, and nothing else made her heart soar more than the thought of soon getting to call you her wife.
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furuu · 2 days
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‎𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ˳    It was late, and the house was quiet as you shifted uncomfortably in bed. The cramps had been gnawing at your abdomen all night, making it impossible to fall into a deep sleep. You tried not to move too much, not wanting to disturb Sukuna, who was resting beside you. He rarely seemed vulnerable, but in his sleep, his sharp features softened just enough to remind you that even the King of Curses needed rest.
But no matter how hard you tried to keep still, your body betrayed you. A small, pained groan escaped your lips as another wave of cramps tightened around your stomach, causing you to curl in on yourself. Sukuna’s body twitched beside you, and for a moment, you thought he was still asleep. Until you heard it—a low, rumbling growl from deep in his chest.
You froze. Was he... growling?
It took a few seconds before you realized what was happening. The faint scent of blood must’ve hit his heightened senses, and like a predator picking up on the tiniest shifts in the air, Sukuna was reacting to it. His brow furrowed slightly as he inhaled through his nose, the smell of your period filling his senses. He shifted in his sleep, instinctively moving closer to you, a territorial edge to the way his arm draped over your waist.
You could feel his fingers twitching against your skin as if unconsciously staking his claim. Another small growl escaped him, softer this time but no less possessive.
Suddenly, his eyes fluttered open, and you found yourself face-to-face with a very awake—and very intense—Sukuna. His crimson gaze locked onto yours, still hazy from sleep but filled with an unmistakable sense of protectiveness.
“You’re in pain,” he said gruffly, voice low and rough from sleep. “I can feel it.”
You opened your mouth to protest, your face flushing with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to wake you. It’s just… cramps. It’s nothing, really—”
His grip on you tightened just slightly, cutting off your sentence as he stared at you, his eyes narrowing in a way that left no room for argument. “Dumb girl,” he warned, as if what he said before was the most obvious thing in the world. His tone was matter-of-fact, yet there was an underlying possessiveness in the way he said it, as if it was something unbreakable. “I will keep you safe, as your king.”
You swallowed, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Sukuna, it’s just—”
“I don’t care what it is,” he interrupted, his voice softening just a little, though the stubbornness was still there. “Your body is suffering, and I will ease your pain.”
You opened your mouth to argue again, but the intensity in his gaze left you speechless. He didn’t just want to help—you could tell he needed to, like some primal instinct had taken over. Just like how animals got protective and snuggly around women on their periods, Sukuna’s instincts were flaring up. You could see it in the way his muscles tensed, the way he hovered protectively over you, as if keeping you safe from something unseen.
You sighed, feeling your embarrassment wash away as you realized how serious he was. “It’s just… it’s a little embarrassing,” you admitted softly, looking down. “I don’t want to bother you.”
Sukuna let out a quiet snarl of irritation. “You’re my mate. You’ll never bother me.” He shifted, pulling you closer into his chest as his large hand splayed across your abdomen, the warmth of his palm immediately soothing against your aching muscles. “Let me take care of you.”
Despite the initial embarrassment, the heat of his body and the firm but gentle pressure of his hand on your stomach made you relax. The pain wasn’t as sharp with him so close, and the reassurance in his gravely voice eased some of the discomfort in your chest, too.
You snuggled into him, allowing yourself to rest against his tattooed chest. His growls quieted into a soft rumble, more like a contented purr now, as he nuzzled his face into your hair.
“I’ve got you,” Sukuna murmured, his voice a quiet, possessive promise. “You’re mine. No one gets to hurt you. Not even your own body.”
And even though it was still a little embarrassing, you felt safer than ever wrapped in his arms, knowing that he would always be there to protect you—even from something as simple as cramps.  ‿ ݂۫ ׄ ༊࿔
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twistyfish · 2 days
Note
Your writing is so good whaaatt!! Could you do another comfort fic with the lad boys? Maybe like they come home and the reader is crying for whatever reason and so onnn. I love comfort fics 🤧🤧
thank you very much! here you are. i’m in a bit of a writing slump honestly 🥲, but i tried. also, some of you are requesting, which i’m very grateful for! if I don’t respond immediately it’s because i’m working on something else at the moment.
prompt~ they come home to you crying.
𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴
Zayne
You were so exhausted. You woke up with a horrible headache and did badly in training today because of that. Captain Jenna snapped at you over your simple errors, which made you feel worse.
You wordlessly picked a mug out of the cupboard and filled it with water. You brought it to your lips and drank, each gulp sounding against the metronomic headache that wouldn’t let you rest. A trickle of blood dripped down your philtrum, making a small splash in your cup. Sniffing, you wiped your nose.
Each drop of blood that ran from your nose overwhelmed you more and more until you were scrubbing your nose with your sweater sleeve, the wool fibers catching the liquid. You pulled your arm away and it looked like a surgeon’s rags.
Speaking of surgeons, your boyfriend chose that unaesthetic moment of you messily wiping your nose to walk into the kitchen. You put your arm by your side and tried to act normal as he fixed himself a cup of juice.
You kept your back turned to him as he asked, “How was training today?”
“Training was pretty standard. Tara told me she’s thinking of getting a tattoo.”
“Really? Did she tell you what kind of tattoo?”
“A pair of cherries.” You were just making stuff up, trying to find an exit from the conversation so you could clean up. “I’m going to go change into pajamas.” You quickly walked up the stairs before he could say anything.
Lip quivering, you picked out a set of pajamas and put it on the bed. You stripped out of your sweater, and the red patch on the sleeve caught your eye. Shit. Why did you wipe your nose on it? It would definitely stain. You really liked this sweater, too.
You felt your eyes burn, a fun contrast to the other sensations of your throbbing head and leaky nose. Tears slipped from your eyes, and you held back the sobs for a few beats before giving up and muffling your face in the already stained sweater.
You must have been like that for a while, because Zayne meandered upstairs without you hearing and peeked inside the bedroom door. “You’ve been up here for a while. What are you-,” he stopped, eyes widening. “Hey. Hey, what’s wrong?”
He quickly walked over and put a hand on your back, peering down at you. “Is that blood?”
You wiped your face on the sweater before letting it plop to the floor. “Yeah,” you said tearily.
“Why are you bleeding? And why are you crying?” Came his calm response.
“I had a bloody nose, and… I don’t know.” You dissolved into sobs again. He looked at you sadly, his hazel eyes big and worried. He pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly for a few minutes until you calmed down. He rubbed your bare back, feeling the goosebumps and pulling your pajama shirt over your head.
“You don’t have to run away. From me, or your feelings,” he whispered.
𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖
Sylus
The air was too heavy. There was too much to dwell on, too many morbid and sickening atrocities that made you feel sour. You couldn’t comprehend how the world was still spinning with so many terrible people weighing it down. You certainly felt like you had been kicked off your axis.
It was more than anyone could take. One too many cases of something horrible on the news, and your stomach was churning. The reporter had described the event so plainly, with a grim resignation. The world was so advanced, and yet….
You didn’t feel the remote slip from your hand. You didn’t hear it clatter on the floor. You didn’t feel the tears swim down your face. You only registered that you were crying when your throat produced a strangled sound, and you finally clapped your hands to your eyes and just bawled.
You cried until you were dehydrated and numb and the garage door opened with a muted whirring. Your large boyfriend entered a few moments later, and you heard a quiet gasp as he took in the sight of you sobbing on the couch.
Sylus seemed less like a fiend and more like a fairy with the way he flitted around you, uncharacteristically lacking composure while trying to figure out what was wrong. By that point, the news had changed to some other story, and he looked confusedly at the TV.
“Darling, are you crying about inflation?”
That didn’t even get a smile from you, so he just picked you up from under the armpits and rocked you slowly, like a baby. You continued to cry softly as he shushed you and whispered comforting words in your ear.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” He asked gently.
“There are so many bad people in the world,” you managed to say through weak hiccups.
“I know. You’re dating one of them.”
“You’re different,” you mumbled. “
“Oh? How am I different?”
“You’re an evil bastard, but I love you.”
He laughed throatily at that, and you felt a little better.
𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝
Rafayel
You were in a nice hotel, lying amidst silky duvets and plush, fat pillows. The moonlight snuck through the gaps between the ivory curtains and created beautiful spectral patterns on the walls.
Your darling fiancé was sleeping with his arm wrapped around you, so why were your shoulders shaking? Why were soft, choked sobs escaping your lips? Why the hell were you crying on vacation?
You didn’t know. All you did know was that Rafayel was stirring, surely awoken by your movement.
“Are you crying?” He murmured sleepily, propping himself up.
You willed yourself to stop shaking, stop being weak and just shut up. But it wasn’t working. The misery and self pity was eating you alive.
“Oh, sweetie,” he said, gently turning you around and cupping your head, kissing your wet cheek. “Don’t cry. You’ll get dehydrated.”
More tears ran down your face, and he continued to brush them away with soft fingers. “What’s wrong, my gorgeous girl?”
“I don’t know,” you choked out. “I just feel bad.”
“Oh, my love….” Rafayel kissed you again with sweetness and compassion. He combed through your hair with his fingers and rubbed your cheek with his thumb. He didn’t know how to soothe you, so he did the only thing he could think to do. He distracted you.
He brought his lips to yours and gently showed you his love for you. Whatever you were feeling, he would overpower it with all his heart.
✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰
Xavier
The clash of metal exploded in the air as your swords collided yet again, and you dodged another attack. Your eyes were burning. There was absolutely no way you were about to cry while sparring with Xavier.
But the next time your swords collided and you met Xavier’s soft, focused gaze, you failed to hold it back. You stared intently into his eyes as both of you struggled, and while straining against his sword, tears began falling from your eyes. His own eyes widened, and he stepped back, pulling his mask down.
“Are you injured?” He asked worriedly. “Did I hurt you?”
You shook your head, lip trembling. You let out a shaky sob, and that was enough to concern him further.
“__….” He was at a loss for words. He had never seen you cry, and now….
“What happened?” He bent down, trying to assess your expression. You were trying not to let the tears win, but they definitely were. You finally gave up trying to hold it in and let your sword drop to the floor with a soft clink, now crying openly.
Xavier reached out hesitantly and pulled you into his embrace. Both of you were hot and stinky from sparring, but that didn’t matter. Not while you were crying.
You let out muffled sobs into his neck, letting him hold you as the two of you sank to the floor. Your tears mingled with the sweat on his shoulder, and he rubbed your back soothingly as you cried. He held you like that for a while.
“I’m sorry,” you said once the sobs had died down.
“It’s okay. I just want to know where this came from,” he replied in that sweet, soft voice.
“I’m tired,” came your plain response. He didn’t question you further, and gently patted your head.
He helped you pick up your things and walked you to the locker room, and you stopped to take a drink at the water fountain. His gaze was fixed on you as you drank, eyes tracing the curvature of your lips. He was so engrossed in watching you drink that you couldn’t help but feel shy.
You finished drinking and said bye to Xavier, still thinking about the interaction. He was always soft spoken, but you didn’t know he could be this gentle. Maybe you should talk to him more outside of sparring.
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fandoms-x-reader · 2 days
Text
Sensitive! MC
Requested By: @fairwish
Summary: The brothers' reaction to an MC who is sensitive and gets upset about not having anyone who cares about them in the Devildom. The Demon Brothers x Reader Word Count: 3,064
This doesn't have Belphie because of the lesson it's based on! Sorry <3
Based on Lesson 6-15
You had been torn away from your life and taken to an unfamiliar place full of creatures that humans portrayed as scary and evil.
You didn’t know anyone in the Devildom. You didn’t have anyone who cared about you or that you could talk to about the trouble you were experiencing.
You were all alone, terrified, trying to figure out how exactly you ended up here.
And to top it all off, none of your new acquaintances seemed to care.
They all carried on without a worry in the world - as if it was the most normal thing in the world for a human to be in Devildom.
They didn’t do anything to try and soothe your pain of missing home or calm your fears of being surrounded by demons.
In fact, some one of them - Mammon - spurred them on by threatening to eat you if you didn’t listen to them or do as they asked.
You did your best to put on a brave face, to pretend as though their words and actions didn’t affect you as much as they did.
But it was hard to keep your composure when it was clear that not a single one of them cared about you.
-
You made your way to the Assembly Hall, your heartbeat still pounding in your chest.
You had just left the music room where you had a very intense one-on-one conversation with Lucifer after your near-death experience where you tried to save Beel and Luke.
“Hey, how about that Y/N, you’re alive!” Mammon stated as you entered the large room, a smile on his face that you weren’t sure was one-hundred percent genuine.
“Let’s see…yep, you’ve still got both arms and both legs. Your eyes are still in their sockets, and your ears are still attached. Guess you’re okay,” Beel added.
“I want to know what Lucifer did. You’ve got to give me the deets L-8-R, yo!” Levi said, a bit too excitedly. 
“Whaaat, you’re still alive? Well, that’s boring,¨ Asmo replied, a small frown on his face, as if he was disappointed
You want to scoff at their reponses. How could they be so nonchalant with everything that just happened. How could they not care at all that you almost died trying to protect their brother.
“Of course. Unless he went crazy again like last night, Lucifer wouldn’t hurt Y/N,” Satan stated, the mention of your name bringing you out of your thoughts.
“And do you know why that is, Y/N?” Satan asked you, a small smirk resting on his lips as he asked the question.
You wished it was because Lucifer liked you. Or at the very least because you were a human. But you the knew the answer.
“Because I’m an exchange student,” you replied, softly, casting your gaze away from the demons standing in front of you.
That’s all you were to them - a business transaction. A pawn that was being used to ensure Lord Diavolo’s vision came to light.
“Exactly. I see you have a good grasp of what’s going on here,” Satan replied, and you felt tears begin to sting your eyes.
“If anything were to happen to one of our exchange students, it would make Lord Diavolo look bad,” Satan continued to explain and you took a deep breath in an attempt to steady your emotions.
“Lucifer would never do anything to harm Lord Diavolo’s reputation,” Satan added and you felt the ties that had been previously holding you back snap.
“You know, I actually forgot about that. For a moment, I was starting to think that Lucifer might actually care about me. Thanks for me reminding, Satan,” you replied sharply, your angry eyes locking with his surprised ones before you left the Assembly Hall.
Satan hadn’t expect such sarcasm to come out of you - such wrath. None of them did. 
You had passed Lucifer and Lord Diavolo on your way out of the Assembly Hall and they could feel your irritation radiating off of you.
They didn't follow after you though, instead turning their attention to the five other demons inside the Assmebly Hall, silently demanding an explanation as to why you were so upset.
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Lucifer thought that he had patched things over with you after your conversation in the music room.
He wasn’t the best at apologizing but he was sure that he had gotten his point across about how regretful he was over his actions.
He thought that you had accepted his apology and that things were okay, but after seeing you storm out of the Assembly Hall, we was no longer sure that was true.
After his brothers told Lucifer what happened before his arrival, he thought it would be best if he went and checked on you himself.
He found you in the courtyard, remnants of the tears you had previously shed streaking down your cheeks.
Lucifer wasn’t sure how to start the conversation. Mostly, because he wasn’t exactly sure why you were so upset.
It took a little bit of time, but when you finally opened up and told Lucifer about your troubles, he was surprised. 
He was surprisingly sympathetic to what you were going through, but he didn’t exactly let that side of himself show.
He had already apologized to you for his part in causing you discomfort in the Devildom and he was the Avatar of Pride, after all, so getting a second apology was a tall order, and an unlikely one.
But, you did notice Lucifer doing small things around RAD and the House of Lamentation.
It could be simple things that provided more comfort for your life in the Devildom or moments of appreciation that Lucifer treated as trivial but ended up meaning more to you than you thought it would.
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After that conversation with Lucifer, one thing was clear - he and his brothers weren’t treating you right and they needed to make amends for that and correct their course of action.
Mammon could arguably be the most sensitive among his brothers when it came to certain things.
He had his fair share of moments where he felt like he didn’t matter to his brothers and times where he felt like there wasn’t a single person in the Devildom that cared about him.
So, he knew just how devastating those thoughts could be.
When you first arrived to the Devildom, Mammon’s concern was making sure that he made himself out to be intimidating and indifferent towards you so that he could have the power in the friendship.
He wanted to dictate when and where the two of you would go and how things were done. After all, if he was going to be your babysitter, he wanted full control of the situation.
But that didn’t really work out for him, and it didn’t take long for him to not only have to bend his knee to your will - but he wanted to.
The truth was he had fun with you and you always found a way to make him smile. Though, he refused to say anything like that. Hell, he refused to even think anything like that when he was around others.
But, when you had your outburst in the Assmebly Hall, Mammon had seen the pained look on your face. The same pained look that he had seen on himself in the mirror.
He followed after you almost immediately, not letting you get too far before he caught up and pulled you into an empty classroom.
He stood in front of you, silence filling the air as you did your best but failed to hold back your tears.
Mammon dared himself to reach up and use his thumb to brush away the tears that were rolling down your cheek.
“I’m sorry, it’s just hard to keep it together when no one around you cares about you,” you stated, barely above a whisper as you kept your gaze on the ground.
Mammon felt his heart shatter as you spoke those words. He knew that he was at fault just as much as his brothers.
He wanted to tell you that he cared about you, but every time he opened his mouth to speak those words, they got lost.
So, instead he pulled you into his arms, hoping that his gesture would be enough to prove you wrong.
Hoping that you would see that even though he had a tendency to act aloof, on the inside he was screaming for you to show him attention and to care about him the same way he cared about you.
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Levi isn’t the type of person who knows how to handle this kind of situation.
He wasn’t even planning on going in to school today. He was perfectly content with doing his studies from the comfort of his bedroom.
But, ever since he made a pact with you, he had to admit he felt some sort of desire - a very SECRET desire - to spend more time with you.
The idea that his brothers would be hanging out with you at school while he was sitting at the House of Lamentation, missing out, was enough to spark the sin that he tried so hard to control.
And now after seeing everything that had just happened, he was heavily regretting his decision to leave his room.
Because now he was stuck between a rock and a hard place.
On one hand, he wanted to disappear back to his otaku haven and pretend like he never saw your outburst
On the other hand…he couldn’t. He felt like he had to do something to help, and the feeling only grew when he didn’t see any of his other brothers moving to go talk to you.
His social anxiety was skyrocketing, but he couldn’t leave a fellow TSL fan in their time of need. That was the reason the told himself when questioning why he was doing this.
When he finally did find you, he once again froze in place as he tried to figure out his next move. He didn’t expect to find you crying.
He found some nearby tissues and slowly approached you with them, relaxing slightly when you gently took them from him and began wiping away your tears.
Levi managed to ask you why you were crying and when you explained it to him, everything made sense as to why you snapped at them.
Levi was almost always self-depracating. Sometimes it was easier to tell yourself that no one loved you then get your hopes up and get hurt. 
But he didn’t want you to go down that rabbit hole - because it wasn’t true.
He wasn’t sure how he was going to do it, but he was going to find a way to show you how much you meant to him and his brothers.
He was going to prove how just in your small time there, you had already changed at least three of them for the better. And it wouldn't be long until the others followed suit.
Levi might not have the perfect words to say or the perfect way to cheer you up, but what he did have was a true friend.
And you may have to wait a while until he’s comfortable enough for him to tell you that. But, in the meantime, he’ll do what he could to show you that at least one person cared about you.
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Satan had been the one you snapped at, so he was by far the most surprised.
For one, he wasn’t exactly sure what about his statements made you so angry.
He wasn’t trying to be rude or offensive, he was simply stating the facts about Lucifer.
For two, he didn’t think you had such rage inside. 
In a somewhat twisted sense, he dared to admit seeing you portray his sin gave him a small sense of gratification.
But, that thought was at the back of his mind. At the front, was trying to talk to you about what happened.
He took some time to properly analyze the situation. He tried to come up with every possible reason that could have caused you to lash out.
He wanted to have a response to any situation so that when he did talk to you, he wasn’t floundering for words.
He found you in the library at the House of Lamentation a little while later and he was grateful you were in a quiet and private place that he just so happened to be comfortable in.
You looked up from your book for a moment to see who had entered before returning to your fictional world. 
Satan came to sit down next to you and paused for a moment before saying, “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
It was a much more sincere apology than you would expect from the Avatar of Wrath and it was enough to pull your attention away from your book.
“It’s not what you said. It’s what it reminded me of,” you replied with a small sigh.
“What did it remind you of?” Satan questioned, his eyes holding no malice but a hint of curiosity
“That I’m alone down here. That I don’t have anyone to turn to or talk to. That I don’t have anyone who cares,” you replied softly, your eyes looking away from Satan’s intense ones.
Satan had thought about this being one of the reasons, but he was stuck in a mental debate.
He was so used to being apathetic but something about the way you opened up to him melted his heart and he suddenly felt an innate desire to protect you.
“The library is a great place to go if you’re feeling lonely,” Satan stated.
It was always his comfort place, so he saw no reason why it couldn’t be yours.
Not to mention the fact, that he was typically in the library and maybe a small part of him was hoping that he could also be something you sought out when you were feeling lonely.
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Asmo didn’t really understand the weight that his words carried until you were angrily walking out of the Assembly Hall.
As soon as you disappeared from sight he began questioning himself. Did he really say it was boring that you weren’t dead?
He had meant it as a joke when he first said it. It was a joke that most demons would find funny and he was so good at trying to be a people pleaser.
He was used to making those kinds of jokes because it would boost the way he looked in front of other demons and we all know how important his reputation was to him.
But your outburst made him realize how it must have sounded to you - a human who had been torn from their world and thrown into one that was vastly different. 
And a twinge of guilt poked at his heart, gradually growing in intensity until he felt like he could no longer stave off the need to apologize.
He found you in your bedroom and was thankful that the two of you would have a moment to be alone.
His apology would be so much more genuine if it was in privacy where he could drop the mask he constantly wore in public.
When you opened the door Asmo suppressed a gasp as he saw tears rolling down your cheek and the guilt only continued to eat away at him.
He had always thought that crying was such an ugly thing. But when you did it, it had a certain elegance.
You had a way of making anything you did beautiful. It was a trait that Asmo was actually quite envious of.
“I didn’t mean what I said,” Asmo said, the words spilling from his lips before he had even fully registered what he said. 
You were confused by his sudden confession and as you tried to find the right words to reply with, he continued.
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“I'm glad you're okay. And I'm sorry I made you cry," he added.
Asmo grabbed a nearby tissue and gently brought it to your cheek, dabbing away your tears.
You knew that what he said was probably a joke, but it didn't make it hurt any less.
You opened up to Asmo and explained why it hurt so much to hear everyone say those things and it was like a lightbulb went off in Asmo's head.
He completely understood where you were coming from and he hated that none of them even thought about how hard it would be for a human to adjust to life in the Devildom.
In an attempt to show you he cared about you, Asmo will turn up his charm 100% on you.
More compliments, more hugs, really anything he could do.
And if that wasn't enough he would take you out with him and introduce you to some of his friends.
Being lonely was one of the worst feelings and Asmo never wanted you to feel that way.
Beel felt the most guilty after seeing you so upset.
He was the one you were protecting when Lucifer tried to attack you.
You had stepped in front of him and shielded him.
He had been so thankful that Diavolo managed to reach Lucifer in time and stop him from hurting you.
And he made sure to tell you as much when you were resting up in his bedroom after the attack.
Yet, when that conversation was happening in the Assembly Hall, he said and did nothing to help you.
He could see you growing more and more upset as his brothers talked, but he continued to just stand by and listen.
As soon as you left the Assembly Hall in tears though, Beel knew he had messed up.
He immediately followed after you, genuinely worried about you.
When he finally caught up to you, Beel immediately wrapped you into his arms, pulling you closely into him.
Panic was filling every inch of his body as he tried to come up with the right words.
In the end, he told you, “My brothers were just kidding.”
You let out a small chuckle, gently pulling away from Beel and wiping the tears from your eyes.
“I know that what they were saying wasn’t completely true, but Satan was right. I don’t have anyone down here that cares about me,” you replied, and Beel’s lip turned into a frown.
He looked so sad and lost at your words that you almost felt like you needed to comfort him.
“When I asked you why you protected me and Luke, you told me it was because we were your friends and we were important to you,” Beel began, and your eyes locked with his indigo ones. 
“You’re my friend too, and you’re important to me,” Beel added with a small smile that portrayed how sincere he was being you.
His expression was enough to bring a small smile to your face and you allowed yourself to open up to Beel.
You knew that the whole experience brought the two of you closer, and you knew that Beel was someone who would always be there for you and someone you could always turn to.
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nathaslosthershit · 2 days
Text
Emotional Times (OP81)
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Summary: Pregnancy was a time full of hardships. Hormones on high, stress of the incoming baby, and all the sudden changes were what this father-to-be was expecting, ready to face. What he wasn't expecting was having to battle his pregnant wife's newfound sensitivity to everything that could have her emotions changing in an instant Part of my summer event!
It has been a rough time in the Piastri household. Oscar loves his wife, he really does, and god, would he move heaven and earth for her. In her current state though, she doesn’t know whether she wants heaven or earth and if he brings her the wrong one she will burst into tears, but if he brings her the right one, she will also burst into tears.
There wasn’t any winning. During moments like that, he just had to remember that greener grass on the other side. The other side where he finally has his own little family. 
The couple had also both made peace with the fact he would be traveling a lot during the season and she would have to spend some of her pregnancy by herself. It was easy while she could travel in the beginning but a few complications cut her ability to do so off much sooner than the two would have liked. And she did not like this. 
“Honey, please, get back in bed.” Oscar begged at 5 am. He was ready to head off to his next race, when he unintentionally woke his very pregnant wife up after giving her a kiss on the forehead.
This made her frustrated, she had finally gone to sleep after spending so much of the night tossing and trying to turn and the minute she drifts off he has the audacity to-
Then she realized he kissed her on the forehead because he was leaving her. 
Now, she was holding onto him by the front door, in absolute tears at the thought she would have to do another race weekend alone.
“Please, my love. It absolutely breaks my heart to leave you but I have no choice. Don’t make this harder for me…” Oscar tried to reason with her, but he was on the brink of tears himself seeing how much she wanted him to stay, realizing how much he wanted to stay. But he couldn’t.
“Oscar, I can’t do it, please it's so hard being here all alone. I know it's cliché but I can’t even tie my shoes. How am I supposed to do anything? How am I supposed to take care of a baby when I can’t take care of myself?”
He knew she wasn’t trying to guilt him into staying or make him feel bad if he did leave. These were real concerns she had voiced before. But he felt so helpless in this moment, almost as helpless as she felt constantly. 
The realization hit him, he couldn’t leave her like this. It was unfair to both of them. He had to do something.
“I will figure something out, don’t worry, Honey. Go back to sleep and when you wake up it will be much better, I promise.” He really shouldn’t promise that when he didn’t have a plan, but he couldn’t come up with one while she was sobbing into his neck and holding on for dear life.
With a few hiccups and a small nod, he wiped her tears and gave her a kiss as he left the apartment. 45 minutes later than he would have liked, hopefully the group he was sharing the jet with didn’t leave him behind. 
She already felt better when she woke up, having gotten hours of sleep, finally. It felt so good to wake up well rested and without that many aches. Nothing could bring her mood down.
Except when she couldn’t get in touch with her husband.
She knew he was traveling, that the minute his plane landed he was off to start preparing for the upcoming race. But no calls and no messages soured her mood real fast. 
She tried to shake it off, she went about her day trying not to dwell on it, trying not to send him threatening messages for not answering her the second she texted him. 
A call woke her up the next morning, well it was noon but she still wasn't pleased. Not till she saw who was calling.
“Oh sweetheart! How are you?” Nicole Piastri asked.
If there was one person she loved almost as much as her husband, it was his mother.
“I’m okay, haven’t heard from Oscar much, that asshole.” she grumbled.
“Oh I remember the days, that's why I have my twitter afterall.” Nicole said, making her laugh. It was sometimes a wonder how her husband was Nicole’s son. 
“Yeah well i-”
“Oh crap, honey, I have to go! But I’ll see you soon, okay? Hang tight!” Nicole said before hanging up.
She didn’t have time to dwell on the abrupt end to the call as a knock came from the front door. Connecting the two, she wobbled as fast as she could to the door, where her mother-in-law stood. 
And then she burst into tears.
“Oh, he told me you were going to do that but I didn’t know it would be that immediate,” Nicole said as she went to hug her. 
Through the tears and snot, she asked “Oscar? What do you mean?”
“He said he texted you, gosh, he is the worst at communication for someone who spends so much time on his phone,” she frowned at her daughter-in-law.
Quickly opening her texts, she saw he had messaged her a few hours ago:
Oscar: I told you I had a plan, just a few more hours, my love. I can’t wait to see you in a few days :) 
Thus the mother and daughter-in-law started their girls weekend. My god, it was exactly what she needed. As much as she loved her husband, this was 1000 times better than what she would have done if he was here. And despite how much she missed him, the weekend seemed to fly by. 
Oscar: How is she? I am only half an hour away.
Nicole: Currently napping, but she has been good! Relaxed and happy. Hasn’t even cried in the past few days
Oscar: Wow, I am almost offended she didn’t miss me more?
Nicole: She needed girl time, you couldn’t give that to her sweetheart. She also needed someone who actually knew how to correctly do laundry.
Oscar: Alright, mum, nice talking to you. I'll be back soon, please don’t turn my wife against me.
Nicole: 😉
Just as he did when he was leaving, Oscar unintentionally woke his pregnant wife up when kissing her on the forehead. Unlike when he was leaving, she didn’t get upset. She was too happy to see him that the thought hadn’t even occurred to her.
Holding him in a death grip, she recounted all she did while he was gone. She couldn’t really go out much at this point, so hearing his mom still found a way to make her weekend enjoyable was a relief. 
“I haven’t even cried over something stupid in a while!” She said as she finished her account of the past few days.
“I heard, I am glad you are feeling so much better, my love. I hated being gone but hearing you had a wonderful time makes me so happy.” He said as he began to tear up, thinking about how awful it was to leave. 
“Oscar, come on, just cause i'm not as emotional doesn’t mean you have to make up for it” She teased.
After pestering him about how his time away was, he remembered he had picked up something for her, and while he bought it thinking he would use it to stop her tears, why not just give it to her while she is this happy.
“I picked up your favorite,” he said as he reluctantly handed her the food he got, shuddering at the unusual combination she loved oh so much.
The sound of her son gagging as he watched his wife eat had Nicole coming into the room to investigate. The picture of her pregnant daughter-in-law, happy as a clam while she ate her food, and her son holding his nose and trying to stop himself from throwing up was a sight she committed to memory and knew she was going to bring up for years to come. 
“What have you got there?” Nicole asked, knowingly making Oscar gag again as he was reminded of the food combination.
“Cottage cheese and ketchup,” she answered. Instead of disgust, the couple was confused by the light bulb moment Nicole seemed to have.
“My goodness! That is what I craved with Oscar. Gross to think about now but I loved it then.”
“What! You never told me this?” Oscar asked, astounded he would be the reason his mom had to eat a combination that disgusted him so.
“I was saving it for the next podcast I did. Think I’ll have to talk about this moment too.” His mom teased. 
Rolling his eyes, he turned to his wife and immediately clocked in on the frown beginning to form.
Both mother and son had the same exact thought: Uh oh.
“You- you craved the same thing?” She stuttered out.
“Um, yeah? You okay, Honey?” Nicole asked, now on edge at the incoming storm.
Seconds of silence went by but were soon disrupted by the sounds of his wife’s cries as she took in the information.
“Baby, what's wrong? Why are you upset at that?” Oscar questioned as he went to rub her back in comfort.
“Its just- that is so sweet, and the thought that- that I could be having the same cravings, is just- I just-” His wife didn’t get to finish her sentence as more wails came out, followed by hiccuping.  
Nicole and Oscar looked at each other in alarm as they realized that this was most likely the consequence of a weekend with no breakdowns. They had a long night ahead of them. 
344 notes · View notes
romugh · 22 hours
Text
THE WIDOW'S LACE - NR
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pairing- stripper!natasha romanoff x fem!reader
cw- 18+!!; top!reader, bottom!natasha, strappie (n rcv), strappie suckie (r rcv), fingering (n rcv), oral (r rcv), rough'-ish' sex? - i think that's all!
wc- 7.7k (of pure smut) I'M SORRY I'M TRYING TO WRITE SHORTER FICS I PROMISE
a/n- part 1, because YES i have THREE parts ready for this. have fun reading! (big shoutout to @traveler-at-heart; your post made me go feral, i adore you)
synopsis- you find yourself in a stripclub, then suddenly you find yourself in a stripper.
taglist- @lost-mortemanghel - dm or comment to be added to my taglist! x
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Natasha wasn’t just any stripper. She was the stripper. The one everyone fell in love with the moment she stepped on stage. Her body moved like sin wrapped in silk, her confidence radiating like a flame that drew every pair of eyes in the club to her. She knew exactly what she was doing, and more importantly, she knew exactly what effect she had on people.
Men and women alike couldn’t help but stare, their lust and admiration hanging thick in the air as they watched her every move. She thrived off it, fed off the power she held over them. They came in hoping for a glance, a smile, a touch. And she delivered—just enough to keep them coming back, but never enough to give them what they really wanted. That was how she liked it. She held the control. Always.
But tonight, something was different.
Amidst the usual sea of desire-filled gazes, she noticed you. You weren’t like the others. Your eyes weren’t filled with the same desperation, the same helpless longing. You weren’t staring at her like she was a goddess to be worshipped. No, you looked at her like she was a challenge. Like you could see right through the seductive veil she’d carefully crafted. It made her stomach twist in a way she hadn’t felt in years.
As she danced, her eyes would flick to you now and again, curious and intrigued. She was used to adoration, not this steady, controlled gaze that almost felt like it was pulling her in. And when the set ended, when her body stilled but her heart raced, she found herself making a decision she hadn’t made in a long time.
She led you to the back room, a place few had ever been. Not because it wasn’t allowed, but because Natasha rarely felt the need to take anyone there. She didn’t need the intimacy the room allowed for, she didn’t crave connection. But there was something about the way you looked at her, like you were waiting for her to slip, waiting for the moment her confidence faltered, and it made her want to see how far you’d push her.
The door clicked shut behind her, the faint thrum of bass from the bar fading into the background as the two of you were swallowed by the dimly lit room. Natasha leaned back against the door, her chest still heaving slightly from the exertion of the performance, but her eyes were as sharp as ever.
“You think you’re something special, huh?” she asked, her voice smooth but with an edge of amusement, her lips curling into a teasing smirk. She tilted her head, watching you carefully, as if expecting you to crumble under her stare like everyone else did.
But you didn’t. Instead, you stepped closer, your movements slow, deliberate, the weight of your presence filling the small space. The air grew thicker with tension, and for the first time in a long while, Natasha wasn’t sure if she was the one in control anymore.
“Do you?” you countered, voice low and calm, your eyes never leaving hers.
Her smirk didn’t falter, but the challenge in your words sent a thrill through her, one she hadn’t expected. She straightened, pushing off the door slightly, closing the gap between you even more, her body mere inches from yours. She could feel your heat, and it made her pulse quicken despite herself.
“You’re not like the others,” she said, her voice dropping an octave as her gaze raked over you, taking in the steady confidence in your stance. “But you’re still here.”
“So are you.”
The silence that followed was heavy, charged with something that neither of you wanted to name just yet. Natasha could feel the tension, thick and suffocating, like static in the air before a storm. Her body was taut, her skin prickling with anticipation, but she refused to show it. She wouldn’t let you see the effect you were having on her. Not yet.
Then, in one smooth movement, you closed the remaining space between you, your body pressing into hers, pinning her gently but firmly against the door. She gasped, her breath catching in her throat at the sudden proximity, but she didn’t pull away. Her pride wouldn’t allow it.
Instead, she lifted her chin, eyes defiant even as her pulse raced beneath her skin. “What’s your plan?” she asked, her voice still steady, but with a hint of breathlessness now, a tremor that betrayed the control she was so desperately clinging to.
Your lips were so close to hers now that she could feel the warmth of your breath against her skin. But instead of kissing her, you hovered, the tension between your mouths almost unbearable. She was used to people taking what they wanted from her, always rushing to close the gap, always desperate for her touch. But you held back, and that restraint was driving her mad.
“You’ll see,” you murmured, your voice a low growl that sent shivers down her spine.
Natasha’s heart pounded in her chest, her body betraying her, a flush rising in her cheeks as the weight of your presence pressed down on her. For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t entirely sure what would happen next, and the thrill of that uncertainty coursed through her veins like fire.
Then, without warning, your hand tangled in her hair, tugging her head back, forcing her to look up at you. Natasha gasped, her lips parting in surprise, but her eyes remained defiant, daring you to do more, to push her further.
“You want this, don’t you?” you asked, your voice steady, commanding.
Her lips curled into a smirk, though her breath hitched slightly under your firm grip. “Maybe,” she replied, her voice dripping with defiance, even as her body arched toward you, craving more.
“Then show me,” you demanded, and with that, you released her hair, watching as she slid down to her knees with a fluid grace that still spoke of her control, her pride. Even now, on her knees, she wasn’t submitting. She was choosing to allow you to do this, and that made all the difference.
She looked up at you, her eyes gleaming with that familiar challenge, and then her gaze flicked to the strap you had tucked out of your pants. Without a word, she leaned in, her lips brushing against the tip of it, soft and teasing at first, like she was still testing the waters, still holding on to that last shred of control.
But the moment she tasted it, something shifted. Her tongue darted out, swirling around the tip before she took it into her mouth, her eyes never leaving yours. She wasn’t rushing, no, the Black Widow never rushed for anyone. But there was an urgency now, a tension in the way her hands gripped your thighs as she worked the strap deeper into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing with effort.
You watched as she swallowed her pride along with the length of the strap, her eyes watering slightly as she struggled to take it deeper. But she didn’t stop, didn’t pull back. She pushed herself further, her throat constricting around it, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as she gagged softly around the toy.
“Is this what you wanted?” you asked, your voice laced with dark amusement as you thrust your hips forward, pushing the strap deeper into her mouth. Natasha’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, her body trembling as she struggled to take more.
Her nails dug into your thighs, her breath coming in short, desperate bursts as you fucked her mouth, the wet sounds filling the room. Her control was slipping, piece by piece, and you could see the frustration in her eyes when she looked up at you, her gaze filled with a mix of defiance and need.
You pulled back suddenly, the strap slipping from her lips with a wet pop. Natasha gasped, her chest heaving as she panted, her lips swollen and red from the effort, saliva glistening on her chin. She looked wrecked, but not broken. Not yet.
“Something wrong?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.
She narrowed her eyes. "You could help," she murmured, trying to regain some of the control she was losing, had already lost. 
“You want help?” you asked, your tone low, teasing. You pushed her head back toward the strap, watching her struggle against her own desire for dominance. She needed this—needed you—but she wasn’t ready to admit it, not fully.
Natasha’s lips parted, taking the strap back into her mouth, but you didn’t let her have it easy. Your hips thrust forward, forcing her to take it deeper than before. Her throat constricted around it, her eyes watering slightly as you pushed deeper. She gagged, her nails digging into your thighs, but she didn’t pull back.
"Is this what you wanted?" you asked, your voice harder now, more demanding. Natasha’s eyes fluttered shut, her body tense as you fucked her mouth, using her. The wet sounds filled the room, mixing with the faint bass from the bar outside.
Natasha choked slightly as you pushed in deeper, but she didn’t stop, her body trembling as she tried to take more of it. But you could see it—her frustration. The realisation that she wasn’t fully in control was pushing her over the edge.
Her breath was ragged when you finally pulled back, saliva glistening on the strap as she panted, lips trembling with effort. Her eyes met yours, and for the first time, she looked... needy. Desperate, even.
“You need more, don’t you?” you asked, gripping her hair tightly. “You think you can handle it?”
She didn’t answer right away, her throat working hard to swallow her pride along with the saliva pooling in her mouth. And then, quietly, she nodded. Just once.
“Yes,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Please.”
That was all you needed to hear. You yanked her up by the hair, spinning her around and pressing her up against the door. Natasha’s breath hitched, but she didn’t protest. She wasn’t giving up, but she was giving in.
You crashed your mouth against hers, devouring her in a kiss that left no room for doubt. This wasn’t about control anymore—it was about possession. You bit down on her lower lip, eliciting a sharp gasp from her, her body arching toward you as if she couldn’t help herself.
Natasha's gasp filled the small room, her lips bruised and swollen from your punishing kiss. She should have hated it—the loss of control, the way you commanded her body with nothing more than your presence—but instead, it made her burn. Her skin was flushed, her breath coming in short, shallow pants as you pressed her firmly against the door, your hand still tangled in her hair, holding her exactly where you wanted her.
Her body betrayed her, arching into you, her hips moving instinctively, desperate for any friction to relieve the building pressure inside her. She was wet—soaking, even—and you hadn’t even touched her properly yet. The realisation made her cheeks flush hotter, though whether it was from embarrassment or arousal, she couldn’t tell.
You pulled back just enough to look at her, your eyes dark, predatory, as they swept over her flushed face, her heaving chest, and the slight tremble in her legs. “Look at you,” you murmured, your voice a low rasp, sending shivers down her spine. “All that control you like to have… where is it now?”
Natasha swallowed hard, her throat bobbing, but she couldn’t find the words. She had no clever retort, no sharp quip to throw back at you. She was too lost in the way you were looking at her, too consumed by the need coursing through her veins.
Your grip on her hair tightened, pulling her head back slightly, forcing her to look up at you. “Answer me,” you demanded, your lips brushing against her ear, your breath hot against her skin. “Where’s all that control, Natasha?”
She shuddered, her eyelids fluttering as her body arched toward you once more. “Gone,” she whispered, barely audible, her voice trembling with the weight of her admission. It was a small crack in her armour, but it was enough. The moment you uttered her off-stage name, the one no one else knew, Natasha’s brain short-circuited.
You smirked, satisfied with her answer. “Good girl.” The praise made her stomach flip, a rush of heat spreading through her as the words sank in. She didn’t realise how badly she had wanted it—needed it—until you gave it to her.
Without another word, you spun her around, pressing her chest against the cold, hard surface of the door. Natasha’s breath hitched, her hands splaying against the wood as she tried to ground herself. You stepped closer, your body pressing against hers from behind, your fingers tracing a slow, deliberate path down her spine.
She was tense, muscles coiled tight, every nerve ending on fire as your hand slid lower, lower, until your fingers dipped beneath the waistband of her panties. The moment you touched her, a low moan slipped from her lips, her hips bucking back against you, desperate for more.
“Patience,” you murmured against her ear, your lips grazing her skin. “I’m not done playing with you yet.” Your fingers teased her, slipping through her slick folds, but never giving her enough pressure to satisfy the ache between her thighs. Natasha groaned, her head dropping forward, her forehead pressing against the door as she struggled to keep herself together.
But you didn’t let up. You kept her right on the edge, drawing out every gasp, every shiver, every desperate sound she made until she was trembling beneath your touch, her body begging for release.
“Please,” she finally whispered, her voice barely audible, but it was enough for you. You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against the shell of her ear as you pressed two fingers deep inside her without warning.
Natasha gasped, her whole body jolting from the sudden intrusion, but she didn’t protest. She couldn’t. All she could do was moan, her fingers curling against the door as her body surrendered to the pleasure you were giving her.
You moved slowly at first, your fingers thrusting in and out of her with a measured precision, building her up, making her crave more. Her hips moved in time with your hand, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts as she chased the release that was just out of reach.
But then, just when she thought she might finally tip over the edge, you stilled your movements.
“No!” The word slipped out before she could stop it, her body still writhing, desperate for the release you kept denying her. She turned her head slightly, looking at you over her shoulder, her eyes wide and pleading. “Please, don’t stop.”
You chuckled softly, your breath warm against her neck as you leaned in closer. “Look at you,” you murmured, your voice a low, dangerous rasp. “Begging for it. You really are desperate, aren’t you?”
Natasha bit her lip, her cheeks flushing hot with shame and arousal. She should have hated the way you were toying with her, should have fought back, but she couldn’t. Not when her body was burning like this, not when she was so close to falling apart beneath your touch.
Your fingers curled inside her, pressing against that spot deep within her that made her see stars. Natasha moaned, her hips bucking back against you, her whole body trembling as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable level.
“Come for me, Natasha,” you whispered against her ear, your voice soft but commanding. “I want to feel you fall apart.”
It was all she needed. With a sharp cry, her body tensed, her muscles clenching tight around your fingers as she came hard, her release washing over her like a tidal wave. She gasped for air, her body shaking as you worked her through it, your fingers never stopping, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until she was a trembling, panting mess.
When it was over, when her body finally stopped trembling, you pulled your fingers from her, a satisfied smirk tugging at your lips as you watched her slump against the door, her chest heaving, her skin flushed and glistening with sweat.
“Good girl,” you murmured, your voice low and soothing now as you brushed a strand of hair from her face. Natasha shuddered at the praise, her heart still racing as she tried to catch her breath.
Before she could fully recover, you turned her around again, pressing her back against the door as your lips crashed against hers in a bruising, possessive kiss. Natasha moaned into your mouth, her hands gripping your shoulders, pulling you closer, her body still aching for more, even after the intense release you’d just given her.
Your hands roamed her body, your fingers skimming over her bare skin. She shivered at your touch, her breath hitching as your hands moved higher, teasing the edges of her red corset.
“Do you want more?” you whispered against her lips, your voice dark and teasing.
Natasha nodded, her fingers tightening on your shoulders. “Yes,” she breathed, her voice soft and desperate.
She was still trembling, her breath ragged as she tried to recover, but you weren’t done with her yet. Not even close. You pulled back slightly, your lips brushing over her jawline, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. Her head fell back against the door with a soft thud, her skin flushed, pupils blown wide as she looked at you with a haze of lust clouding her gaze. You could see how desperate she was, how badly her body was craving more, needing to be filled.
Your hand slid down her thigh, strong fingers curling around her knee as you lifted her leg, pushing it up to her chest. The position opened her up to you in a way that made your mouth water, giving you the perfect view of her already slick and swollen entrance, quivering and glistening with arousal. Her panties had been soaked through long before, but you ripped them down her legs now, tossing them aside without a second thought. Natasha whimpered, her fingers clutching at your shoulders as her body arched, her hips instinctively pushing toward you, searching for the friction she so desperately needed.
“Look at you,” you murmured, your voice low and dark with desire as your hand travelled back up her thigh, tracing the sensitive skin with teasing slowness. “So fucking wet and ready for me.” You reached between your bodies, gripping the base of your strap as you positioned it at her entrance, the thick head brushing against her slick folds. Natasha’s breath hitched, her whole body tightening in anticipation, her hands curling into fists as she pressed back against the door, trying to steady herself.
“Please,” she breathed, her voice barely audible, but dripping with need. “Please, I need it.”
You gave a low, satisfied chuckle, your eyes never leaving hers as you leaned in close, your lips brushing against her ear. “I know you do, sweetheart,” you whispered, your voice a low rasp that sent shivers down her spine. You nudged the strap forward slightly, just enough to let the tip press into her, but not enough to give her the relief she craved. Natasha whimpered, her hips bucking toward you, desperate to take more.
“Shh,” you cooed, tightening your grip on the back of her thigh as you pressed her knee further against her chest, opening her up even more. “I’ll give you what you need, but I want to hear you beg for it.”
Natasha bit her lip, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and desire, but she couldn’t deny how badly she wanted it—needed it. “Please,” she whispered again, her voice trembling. “Please, fuck me… I need it so bad.”
Your smirk widened, and without another word, you slowly pushed forward, the thick head of your strap finally pressing into her tight, wet heat. Natasha gasped, her fingers digging into your shoulders as her body jolted at the sudden intrusion. She was tight, impossibly tight, her walls clenching around the silicone in a way that made it difficult to press any deeper, but the resistance only made you want it more.
“Oh fuck,” she whimpered, her voice a high-pitched whine as you continued to push inside her, every inch stretching her further, forcing her to take more of you. “You’re—too big,” she panted, her head falling back against the door as her hips jerked forward, trying to accommodate the stretch.
“Shh,” you murmured against her neck, your lips grazing the sensitive skin as you gave her thigh a reassuring squeeze. “You can take it, baby. I know you can.”
Natasha whimpered again, her walls fluttering and clenching around the thick strap, trying to pull it deeper, even though it was almost too much. You could see how tight she was, almost feel how every ridge and fake vein on the strap dragged against her slick walls, sending shivers of pleasure through her body with every inch you pushed inside. Her breath came in short, ragged bursts, her chest heaving as she struggled to take more of you, her body trembling with the effort.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” you groaned, your own voice strained with arousal as you finally bottomed out inside her, the base of the strap pressing against her soaked folds. Natasha cried out, her fingers digging into your shoulders as her hips jerked forward, trying to take you even deeper. She was stretched so wide around the strap, her walls clenching and pulsing around the intrusion, desperate for more.
“Look at you,” you murmured, your voice low and rough with desire as you glanced down at where your strap was buried deep inside her. The sight was sinful—Natasha’s leg pressed high against her chest, her pussy stretched around your thick strap, her slick juices coating the silicone and dripping down her thighs. “You look so fucking good taking all of this, baby.”
Natasha whimpered, her head tilting forward just enough to look down at the obscene sight between her legs. She could see the way her walls clenched around the strap, the way her slick arousal dripped down her thighs, and it made her body burn with embarrassment and desire. She was so full, so impossibly full, but she needed more—she needed you to move.
“Please,” she begged, her voice a high-pitched whine as her hips bucked forward, trying to get you to thrust inside her. “Please, I need you to move.”
Your smirk deepened, your other hand sliding up her thigh to grip her hip as you pulled back slightly, the thick strap dragging against her sensitive walls with agonising slowness. Natasha gasped, her whole body shuddering at the sensation, her head falling back against the door as her fingers dug into your shoulders.
“You’re so fucking tight,” you groaned, your voice low and breathless as you thrust back into her, the strap filling her once more. Natasha cried out, her body jolting at the sudden movement, her walls clenching around the silicone as you began to thrust into her with a slow, deliberate rhythm.
Natasha’s breath came in short, ragged gasps, her body trembling as the pleasure built with every thrust. She was so full, so stretched, every inch of the strap dragging against her sensitive walls, making her burn with need. Her hips bucked against you, desperate for more, and you were all too happy to give it to her.
You quickened your pace, each thrust harder and deeper than the last, the sound of your bodies colliding filling the small room. Natasha’s cries grew louder, her hands clutching at your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin as her body shuddered with every thrust. Her walls clenched around the thick strap, trying to keep you buried deep inside her, but you kept up your relentless pace, fucking her harder, faster, until her whole body was trembling, her breath coming in short, desperate bursts.
“Fuck, you’re taking it so good,” you groaned, your voice rough with arousal as you watched the way her body shook, the way her pussy stretched around your strap.  Natasha’s leg was still raised high, your grip on her thigh unwavering, giving you that sinful view of her slick, swollen pussy stretched wide around the strap.
“Please,” Natasha whimpered, her voice a breathless moan as her body trembled beneath you. “Please, I’m so close.”
You leaned in close, your lips brushing against her ear as you thrust into her even harder, the thick strap filling her completely, dragging against every sensitive inch of her walls. “Then come for me,” you whispered, your voice low and commanding. “I want to feel you come all over this strap.”
Natasha’s breath hitched, her body arching into you as the pleasure built to an unbearable level. And then, with one final, deep thrust, she shattered. A scream tore from her lips as her walls clenched tight around the strap, her whole body trembling as the orgasm ripped through her, leaving her gasping for breath.
The moment Natasha came undone, her body arched beautifully against the door, trembling violently as the wave of pleasure crashed over her. Her walls clenched so tightly around the strap that you could feel the pressure even through the silicone, and the sight of her falling apart in your hands only fueled the fire raging inside you.
You didn’t let up, not even for a second.
With each pull of your hips, the fake veins on the strap dragged against her sensitive inner walls, teasing the oversensitive flesh until Natasha was nothing but a writhing, gasping mess. Her eyes rolled back, half-lidded with pleasure, and her lips parted in a soft, helpless moan every time you thrust back into her. You could feel the way she pulsed around the strap, her orgasm still crashing through her, each thrust prolonging the pleasure, edging her closer to that line between unbearable ecstasy and delicious torment.
“God, you’re so good for me,” you groaned, your breath hitching as you felt the silicone slip inside her once more, filling her to the hilt. Natasha whimpered, her head falling back against the door, her nails biting into your shoulders. Her leg quivered in your grasp, and you couldn’t help but smirk at how utterly wrecked she was beneath you.
With a low growl of satisfaction, you pressed her thigh even higher, opening her up even more, pushing her to the very limit of her flexibility. The new angle had the thick strap sinking impossibly deep, and Natasha gasped, her entire body jolting at the sensation. As her free leg instinctively wrapped around your waist, anchoring herself to you, you felt the shift in her balance—she had nothing keeping her standing anymore, fully depending on you.
“Fuck!” Natasha cried out, her voice cracking as you pulled back and slammed forward again, the wet sound of your bodies colliding echoing through the room. “I— I can’t— it’s too much!” You pressed her up against the door even more, using your strength to hold her in place as her body trembled under the onslaught of pleasure, the desperation in her voice only igniting your need for her further.
Her whimpers were nearly incoherent, her face flushed with exertion, but you could see the glint of desire still lingering in her eyes. She was teetering on the edge of overstimulation, but you knew she craved every second of it. She wanted to feel all of it—the stretch, the burn, the fullness. The way the strap forced her walls to accommodate the thickness, how each and every detail of your faux-cock dragged along her inner muscles, heightening her pleasure with each stroke.
"You take it so well, baby," you cooed, your voice dripping with confidence and dominance. "You’re doing so well. Look at you—fucking yourself on my strap like this."
Her breath hitched again at your words, a shiver of arousal rolling through her already trembling body. She was utterly at your mercy, and you loved it. You loved how she fought against the overwhelming pleasure, how she clenched so desperately around the strap, trying to draw it deeper into her slick heat. Her need for more, despite the delicious torment, was written all over her flushed face, her parted lips, her half-lidded eyes filled with lust and desperation.
You picked up your pace again, your hips snapping forward with a relentless rhythm that had Natasha gasping for air, her nails scraping down your back as she arched off the door, her body shuddering with each deep, powerful thrust.
“Oh god—oh fuck,” she whimpered, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts. The leg wrapped around you trembled, barely able to hold on as her body shook under the intense pleasure you were giving her. Her thighs were slick with her arousal, her pussy dripping with how desperately wet she was, and you couldn’t help but groan at the sight of her coming undone again and again.
“Good girl,” you whispered, your voice soft but firm as you leaned in closer, pressing your lips to her ear. “Look at yourself. Look at how fucking good you look with my cock buried inside you.”
Natasha’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze hazy as she glanced down between your bodies. The sight made her moan—a deep, breathless sound that sent a fresh wave of arousal crashing through her. She could see it—the thick, veined strap disappearing into her, stretching her wide, her swollen folds glistening with her arousal. Every thrust made her slick pussy tighten around the silicone, and the sight of it only spurred you on.
You adjusted your grip on her thigh, pulling her leg even higher, pushing her closer to the door as you thrust harder, deeper, the wet sound of her slick arousal mixing with her breathless moans.
“Oh god—fuck!” Natasha cried out, her walls fluttering violently around the strap as you drove her toward yet another climax. “I— I’m gonna—fuck, please don’t stop!”
Her entire body tensed, her head falling back against the door as she teetered on the edge of another orgasm. Her walls clenched around the strap, trying to milk every inch of it as you thrust into her with a brutal, unforgiving force.
“That’s it,” you groaned, your voice low and commanding as you felt her walls begin to spasm around the strap, her breath hitching as her climax built. “Come for me again, Natasha.”
With one final, hard thrust, Natasha shattered, her entire body jerking as a scream ripped from her throat. Her walls clamped down around the thick silicone, pulsing wildly as her orgasm tore through her, sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing over her. She was trembling, gasping for air as her body convulsed beneath you, her slick juices dripping down her thighs, soaking both of you.
You kept thrusting into her, slow and deep, prolonging her pleasure as you rode out her orgasm with her. Natasha’s body jerked with each thrust, her breath coming in short, desperate bursts as her hands clung to your shoulders, trying to ground herself in the overwhelming sensation.
When her trembling finally began to subside, you slowed your pace, easing her leg down from where it had been pressed against her chest, her body slumping against you in exhaustion. Her head fell against your shoulder, her breath hot and ragged against your skin as you gently pulled out of her, the slick strap glistening with her release.
As Natasha’s trembling body sagged against you, her breath still coming in ragged bursts, you could feel the way her grip on your shoulders loosened and her leg let go of your waist. The aftermath of her climax left her shaky, her muscles quivering from the overwhelming pleasure you’d just wrung from her body. But even in her exhausted state, you could sense her lingering need. It simmered beneath her flushed skin, a wantonness that never quite faded, even when she was wrecked like this.
Without a word, Natasha sank down, her legs buckling as she willingly dropped to her knees. The sight alone was enough to send a fresh surge of heat coursing through you—Natasha, her thighs glistening with her release, her hair dishevelled, and her lips parted as she knelt between your legs. Her eyes, half-lidded and dark with desire, flickered up to meet yours, a silent plea for permission lingering in her gaze.
Your hand instinctively found its way to her cheek, fingers brushing across the warm skin as you gently tilted her face up. Her lips ghosted over your knuckles, her tongue darting out to taste the salt of your skin before she shifted her focus downward. Her gaze dropped to the strap still glistening between your legs, slick with her arousal, and you could see the hunger spark in her eyes.
“Natasha…” you whispered, your voice thick with a mixture of affection and desire.
But she didn’t need any further encouragement. Her hands, still trembling slightly, reached for the base of the strap, steadying it as she licked her lips. The tip was soaked in her juices, glistening under the soft light, and Natasha stared at it for a moment, almost mesmerised by the evidence of her own pleasure. Then, with a soft moan, she leaned forward and wrapped her lips around the head of the strap, sucking it into her mouth with slow, deliberate movements.
You groaned softly, your hand moving to rest on the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair as you watched her work. Natasha’s tongue swirled around the head of the strap, tasting herself on the silicone, her mouth moving in languid strokes as she took more of it into her mouth. Her release coated her lips, shining as she sucked the slickness off, moaning low in her throat as she worked to clean the strap.
Her eyes fluttered closed, her focus entirely on the task at hand as she bobbed her head, her lips stretching around the girth. You could feel the pressure of her movements even through the toy, the way she sucked and licked with such dedication. It was intoxicating—the sight of her on her knees, her mouth filled again with your strap, the faint, almost sinful sound of her moans vibrating against the silicone as she sucked her own release off of it.
“My good girl,” you murmured, your voice low and full of praise. “Look at you…so eager to clean up after yourself.”
Natasha whimpered in response, the sound muffled as her mouth slid down further on the strap, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked harder. Her hands came up to cradle the base, stroking it gently as her tongue flicked over the veined surface, cleaning every ridge, every dip, savouring the taste of herself.
You could feel her submission in every movement, the way she surrendered completely to this moment. Her mouth moved with such deliberate care, as if this was another way of showing her devotion, her gratitude for the pleasure you’d given her. The way she worshipped the strap was almost reverent, her tongue lapping up every drop of her arousal, cleaning it with slow, sensual strokes.
“Does it taste good?” you asked softly, your fingers tightening slightly in her hair.
Natasha’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze locking with yours as she pulled back just enough to speak, her lips still wrapped around the head of the strap.
“Yes,” she whispered breathlessly, her voice hoarse with lust. “So good…”
And with that, she took the strap deeper, moaning as her mouth stretched again to accommodate it. The sight was almost too much—her lips wrapped around the thick girth, her tongue working tirelessly to clean it, her eyes dark and hooded with lust as she looked up at you, completely at your mercy.
You couldn’t resist. With a low growl, you tightened your grip on her hair and gently guided her head forward, watching as more of the strap disappeared into her mouth. Natasha didn’t hesitate, didn’t resist. She eagerly followed your lead, sinking down on the strap with a soft, muffled moan as she took it deeper, her tongue swirling around the silicone as she sucked harder.
The wet, obscene sounds of her mouth working the strap echoed in the room, mingling with her soft whimpers of pleasure. Each time she pulled back, her lips glistened with slickness, her saliva mixing with the remnants of her release as she diligently cleaned the strap. The sight, the sounds, the intoxicating feel of her submission—it was overwhelming, and you couldn’t help but groan in response. It felt so different from just twenty minutes ago, the air now thick with an emotional tension that left both you and her craving more.
“Such a good girl…” you murmured, your voice thick with desire. “You love this, don’t you? Love tasting yourself on my cock like this?”
Natasha moaned again, her eyes rolling back slightly as she nodded, her mouth still full of the strap. Her fingers tightened around the base, her tongue swirling with renewed intensity as she sucked harder, her moans vibrating against the silicone in a way that had your own breath hitching in your throat.
You tugged her hair gently, pulling her back just enough to see her flushed, eager face, her lips even more swollen and slick from her efforts. She looked up at you, her eyes filled with lust and devotion, and the sight of her—completely wrecked, completely at your mercy—made your heart race.
“Finish it, once more,” you whispered, your voice soft but commanding. “Clean it all up, baby.”
Natasha’s breath hitched, and with one last, eager moan, she sank down again, taking the strap as deep as she could, her lips stretched tight around the girth. Her tongue worked tirelessly, lapping up the last remnants of her release, her fingers stroking the base as she cleaned every inch of the strap with slow, deliberate care.
By the time she finally pulled back, the strap was glistening with nothing but her saliva. She looked up at you, her eyes hazy with pleasure, her mouth hanging open slightly as she panted for oxygen.
Natasha’s chest heaved, her lips still glistening as she knelt before you, a blend of exhaustion and determination in her eyes. Her body was clearly spent, trembling from the intensity of everything that had just unfolded, yet even in her weary state, a flicker of something more shone through. That relentless desire, the insatiable need to please you, to reciprocate the pleasure you had so generously given her, burned bright within her. It was as if the connection between you two transcended the physical, igniting a fire that she couldn't ignore.
With a shaky breath, Natasha reached for the harness still strapped to your hips. Her fingers, though trembling from exhaustion, worked quickly to undo the buckles, each one coming undone with a soft click. You could feel her need—this wasn’t just about giving; it was about showing you that she was still capable, that she could offer you more. Her eyes met yours briefly, the unspoken plea for permission lingering in their depths before she yanked the harness off completely.
Without a word, she tossed it behind you, the strap landing on the floor with a dull thud, completely forgotten. What mattered now was you—your pleasure, your release.
“Natasha, you don’t have to…” you started to say, but your words were cut short as she leaned forward, her hands gripping your thighs with surprising strength, anchoring you in place.
“I want to,” she whispered, her voice hoarse but resolute. “I need to.”
Before you could protest further, Natasha dove in, her mouth finding you with an eagerness that made your breath hitch. Her lips latched onto your sensitive folds, tongue immediately parting you as she licked a slow, deliberate stripe up your centre, savouring every inch of your heat. A low moan escaped your lips, and as soon as Natasha heard that first sound of pleasure, it was like a spark ignited within her.
She dove in deeper, her tongue working you with relentless precision, swirling and flicking against your most sensitive spots, teasing and tasting in a way that had your head thudding against the door in front of you. Her hands gripped your thighs tighter, keeping you spread open for her as she devoured you like she couldn’t get enough. Each stroke of her tongue, each gentle nip of her lips, sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, and it didn’t take long before you were moaning openly, your hand tangling in her messy hair as you rocked your hips against her mouth.
“Fuck, Natasha…” you gasped, your voice thick with lust and awe. “Just like that…”
Your praise only fueled her further. Every moan, every word of encouragement that slipped past your lips made her work harder, her tongue moving faster, her lips sucking greedily at your clit. She was completely lost in it, lost in the way you responded to her touch, in the way your body trembled beneath her mouth. It was like she couldn’t get enough of your taste, couldn’t get enough of the sounds you made—the way you were falling apart for her.
And as you moaned her name again, louder this time, Natasha whimpered softly against you, her hips involuntarily bucking as if she could feel every ounce of pleasure you were experiencing. The connection between the two of you was palpable, an unspoken bond that seemed to tether your bodies together, each of your reactions sending waves of sensation through both of you.
She could hear the way your breath hitched, feel the way your thighs clenched around her head, and it drove her wild. Your pleasure was her pleasure, your release was her reward. Natasha’s own arousal was building again, the slickness between her thighs only intensifying as she tasted you, her own body responding to the rhythm of your moans, the raw, unfiltered sounds of your ecstasy.
“Oh fuck–Natasha…” Your breath was ragged, your body on the edge, teetering precariously close to that release she was so desperate to give you.
With a final flick of her tongue and a deep, sucking pull at your clit, you came undone. The orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, pulling you under in a flood of overwhelming pleasure. Your hands clenched in her hair as your back arched off, your thighs squeezing her head tight as you cried out, your voice echoing through the room in breathless, blissful moans.
Natasha didn’t stop. Even as you writhed above her, she kept her mouth on you, lapping up every drop of your release, savouring every moan, every tremor of your body as you rode out your orgasm. And as you came, something shifted in her—something broke free inside her.
She felt it—the sudden, uncontrollable surge of pleasure that washed over her as your moans hit their peak. It was the mere sight of you, the way you fell apart for her, the way your body shook with pleasure, the way you moaned her name like she was the only thing that mattered that set it off.
Her own release hit her like a lightning strike, her body going rigid as her climax overtook her without warning. Natasha gasped, her mouth still pressed against you as she came, the shock of her own orgasm freezing her in place. The pleasure ripped through her, stealing her breath, her thighs quivering uncontrollably as she came just from the sight of you.
She pulled back from you slightly, her lips still wet with your release, her eyes wide with disbelief as her body shook with the aftershocks of her own unexpected orgasm. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, her mind reeling from what had just happened. You were both wrapped in the warmth of the moment when suddenly, your phone rang loudly in the silence.
You reached for it, reluctantly pulling away from Natasha’s gaze. “Yes, I’ll be there in ten minutes, Pepper,” you replied, your voice a mix of disappointment and urgency.
Natasha smiled softly at you, a bittersweet feeling bubbling up inside her as she leaned into your touch, your hand gently stroking her cheek. There was a warmth in the gesture that made her heart flutter, an affirmation of the bond that had just blossomed between you two. She felt seen, cherished, even amidst the whirlwind of everything that had just transpired.
“Tell him to prepare some dessert,” you teased, a smirk tugging at your lips. “I haven’t had the chance to have mine here. Hopefully next time I will, the menu looks promising.”
Natasha’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson as she caught the glimmer of mischief in your eyes. You could see her heart racing, a delightful mix of embarrassment and exhilaration washing over her. The intimate nature of your exchange lingered in the air, and the thought of your teasing words sent a rush of warmth through her.
“Next time,” she echoed softly, her voice barely above a whisper, as the realisation settled in that you would be back for her.
With a final glance at her, you turned to leave, a flutter of anticipation sparking between you two. As you made your way towards the door, Natasha’s eyes followed you, filled with longing and excitement for what lay ahead. And as you stepped outside, you left behind the strap, a tangible reminder of your connection, a symbol of what you had shared.
The door clicked shut behind you, leaving Natasha alone in the room, her heart racing as she thought about everything that had just happened. She picked up the strap, feeling its weight in her hands, and a wicked smile spread across her lips.
She couldn’t wait for your return. She was already crafting ideas for the next time you’d come back, each thought fueling her desire for you even more. Because this was only the beginning, and she was ready to embrace whatever came next, knowing that you would both find your way back to each other, intertwined by the widow’s lace.
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sorchathered · 18 hours
Text
He’s in love with the girl
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Pairing-Jake Seresin x reader
Warnings- smut and language
A/N- I’m baaaack yall! Here’s a little smutty one shot to tie you over until I post our vampire!bob story! @bobgasm and I have been reading too many cowboy romances lately so here’s a little brother’s best friend romance for ya.
Summary- Jake comes home for the summer and falls head over heels for his bestie’s little sister. How’s he gonna tell him that he thinks she’s the one?
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He shouldn’t be here.
He knows he absolutely shouldn’t , and yet here he is, body pressed up against your bedroom door with his hands in your hair and your lips on his neck.
Any other girl on earth would have been suitable, but no, Jake Seresin just had to fall in love with his best friend’s baby sister.
He’d come home on leave for a month and had expected it to be just like any other trip to Austin. Bar hopping and wrangling cattle, until you walked into his mama’s house. Freshly graduated from college and looking every bit his type. Gorgeous, smart, funny, and a little bit mean to him; it was like kryptonite to him.
He could lie and say he tried to stay away, but you both know that wasn’t true at all. He was down bad, sneaking quiet moments with you in the barn, stopping by to see you after your shifts at the hospital, midnight drives to nowhere that ended with you both tangled up in the back seat of his truck. Your poor brother didn’t have a damn clue, his own life and family kept him just busy enough to keep him out of the loop, and you’d keep it from him as long as you could. Last thing you wanted was for him to pop the perfect bubble the two of you were in.
It wasn’t like he’d held a torch for you or anything like that, anything untoward he was sure Gavin could dream up just wasn’t true. When he’d been reintroduced to you at the beginning of the summer it was like you were a completely different person, not at all the annoying pre teen girl with her one direction obsession that had followed them around years before. You were a bad ass nurse now, someone who took no shit and he’d been falling over himself to get your attention ever since. You’d brushed him off and tried to stay away, but you couldn’t deny that there was absolutely something there, and when he kissed you for the first time it had scared you just how much you wanted more.
“You’re a goddamn dream you know that?” Jake sighed as you ran your nose along his sharp jawline, hands fumbling with his belt as he let his hands roam over the small of your back down to your ass as he kneaded one and then the other cheek before lifting you into his arms. You let out a shriek and erupted into giggles as he carried you to your bed and spread you out on the worn cross and crown patterned quilt.
“You’re gonna get us both in trouble if you keep manhandling me like this you big oaf, the whole house is gonna think-“
“I don’t give a shit what they think, you could scream my name loud enough that they hear it in town, don’t make a difference to me, sugar. I’m tired of sneaking around; want you to be mine.” He had both hands on your hips, staring down at you like you hung the moon and stars. It stole your breath away, you’d thought he’d just been fooling around with you all summer, just another notch in the Hangman’s belt. But the way he was looking at you, it made things feel very, very real.
“Jake. What about Gavin?” You whispered, and he gave a little shake of his head, trying to rid himself of the spell your half naked body had him under. He needed to get this off his chest, if you wanted what he wanted then Gavin could take a long walk off a short pier for all he cared; he’d get over it eventually.
He eased himself on top of you and swiped a loose hair behind your ear, watching as your body relaxed from his touch. Cocky grin plastered on his pretty face as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, he took a deep breath and let the words loose that he’d kept buried deep all summer long.
“You know I love Gavin, I’d go to the ends of the earth for that idiot, but I’d be lying if I said his opinion matters one bit when it comes to this. I want you, y/n. I don’t just want you for the summer, I’ll do long distance, late night phone calls, whatever you’ll let me until I can make this permanent. I never thought I’d be the settling down type but damnit darlin’ I’ve got all sorts of dreams planned for me and you, and if you want that too it doesn’t matter what anyone wants or thinks about us, all that matters is how much I’m totally wrapped around your little finger.”
“But-“ he cut you off by placing his lips on yours, letting his hands slide up your sides to cup your face and stealing your breath.
He wasn’t having it- clearly your stubborn ass wasn’t hearing him, he’d just have to show you instead.
He had you naked and spread out before you could even come up with another coherent thought, golden head of hair buried between your legs as he brought you to the edge…and then stopped.
“Look at me pretty girl, I want your eyes on mine when you come, all those sweet noises you make are for me, no one else you got it?” He was being a giant tease, fingers still buried deep as you tried to fight the urge to smack that stupid grin off his face.
“Fuck- you can’t just stop, I- I need-“
“I know what you need baby, and I’ll give it to you every time. But you’re gonna commit this to memory, no one’s ever gonna get to see you like this ‘cept me ever again, you’re mine, and you know I’m used to getting what I want.” He says with a wink, sliding back down to suck your clit into his hot mouth, watching as you arch your whole body into him with a whine.
“Yours Jake, just yours.”
He felt the sun through the blinds and groaned, it was too damn early and warm all wrapped up in you, but he couldn’t put off his plans forever, there was too much at stake and he’d chicken out if he waited much longer. Pressing kisses to your face and neck he untangled himself from you and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. He had to come clean to Gavin, and if it didn’t end up with a black eye he’d call that a win.
He pulled up to the diner on Main that had been home to many a hangover meal and found Gavin lounging in their favorite booth along the back wall, his gruff exterior a complete facade as soon as Jake came in the door. Goofy wide smile splitting his face as he made his way over to the table, but Jake couldn’t bring the smile to his eyes. He’d been ready for battle on the drive here, but now that he was inside he felt his resolve crumble a little. He’d known him since they were in diapers, their moms had been debutantes together for god sake; what was he supposed to do if this ended sour?
Knocked loose from his thoughts as the waitress, Gladys, who was probably here when the town began, brought him a steaming cup of coffee and ruffled his hair. He could do this, he just needed to man up. He’d fought in firefights thousands of miles in the sky, surely this would be easier.
“You’ve been here all summer and I swear it feels like we’ve barely seen you brother, where the hell you been?” Gavin says as he digs into his breakfast, chomping away at his pancakes with no idea what bomb is about to be dropped on him.
Jake wipes his sweaty palms on the front of his jeans as he stares intently on his steaming mug, drawing a shaky breath and preparing for the worst.
“I’ve uh- I’ve been seeing somebody. I know I should’ve been better about keeping in touch, just kinda got caught up in it. It’s why I asked you here bud, gotta talk to you about it before I explode if I’m honest.”
Gavin stops his Joey Chestnut impression long enough to look over Jake’s stoic exterior, and guffaws. Throws his head back and quite literally cackles.
“Ha- oh shit man, I’ve been waiting on you to spill the beans on this shit. You should see your damn face “we need to talk Gav, I’m in love.” Hahaha goddamn, if I’d known all it would take is my sister coming back into town to get you to settle down I'd have tried to play matchmaker years ago.”
Jake nearly drops his mug, eyes bugging out of his head.
“You- you know?! Jesus Christ Gav, I’ve been losing my shit over this for days, way to bury the lead.”
“Oh come on, you two haven’t exactly been subtle. For someone who is supposedly a stealth pilot, you sure don’t know how to hide a relationship. Also, if you’re going to fool around with her at mom and pop’s, might want to remember the walls are paper thin. We found you guys out weeks ago dude.” He goes right back to destroying his plate, like the two of them had been talking about sports scores and not the fact that Jake was definitely fucking Gavin’s baby sister.
“You don’t need my permission, and you definitely have my approval if you were really that worried. She’s harbored a crush for years, doesn’t surprise me in the least that she shot her shot. Just do me a favor, don’t make her wait too long before you propose, she’d probably say yes with a ring made out of napkins from the way she looks at you.”
He didn’t make you wait long at all, and crazy as it all sounded to his squad back in Fightertown when he showed up at the end of block leave with a fiancée, they knew he was hooked from the minute you introduced yourself. You transferred hospitals and made the move to California, and made his empty bachelor pad a home with all your fancy appliances and skincare products he couldn’t pronounce to save his life.
When you both had gotten all the boxes unpacked he laid you down in your shared bed and made love to you like he hoped he’d get to do for the rest of his life, he couldn’t wait to start a life with you, and maybe a baby.. or 5, but that would be a whole other discussion for another day.
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🏷️ tagging- @roosterforme @nouis-bum @sebsxphia @teacupsandtopgun @sunsetsimpsblog @sio-ina-bottle @kissmecaitie @mynameismckenziemae @senawashere @seitmai-too @kmc1989 @shanimallina87 @dizzybee03 @mygyn @jessicab1991 @djs8891 @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @86laura11
298 notes · View notes
clawsdevour · 2 days
Text
welcome home
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wc: 2.3k content warning: post-time skip, established relationship, kageyama x reader, smut, hc that kags likes tits, fingering, creampie, not proofread
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Home alone in the kitchen making yourself a small midnight snack. The ambient lighting is more silent than the echoing noises of your shuffling. Washing your hands after a quick bite of your meal, you pause for a second.
Was that a creaking sound? 
Staring in the direction it came from, the front door of your house. Followed by the sound of keys jingling as you watched the doorknob twist and turn open. Upon entrance, you see your husband Kageyama Tobio back home from his business trip due to his volleyball career.
His head lifting up from his suitcase, his cold beady gaze softens when he sees that you’re still up.
“Tobio.. Welcome home!” dropping the cloth you dried your hands with, running over to him with open arms. 
Catching you in his warm embrace, his muscular arms tightly squeezing around you to make up for his lack of presence throughout the time he was away. He wasn’t just excited, something down there was too. 
“W-Wait..” the friction as you swayed around in his arms building up his already pent up erection, coming to a sudden halt. 
You didn’t realize until you saw his eyes move lower to look at the hard to miss tent sticking up from his crotch. Averting his eyes to look behind you a bit humiliated that that was his first reaction to coming back home. His stern face starts to heat up, you can’t help but giggle under your breath.
“Bring in the suitcase and take a nice hot shower, love. We’ll get to that later..” using your thumb at his chin, changing the direction of his head to look down at you. Planting an affectionate kiss on his cold but soft lips before heading back to your midnight snacking.
Doing as you said, Kageyama brought in the suitcase to the bedroom to unpack before starting a shower that dissolved all his worries now that you’re under the same roof as him. 
You’re laying under the fluffy covers, waiting for him to walk out as you continue to binge watch a show you watched with him before he left home for work.
The moment he opens the door, the light hitting just right at him, slightly showing you slivers of his toned and rippling body that seemed to get hotter every time you saw it. 
The towel on his waist hung low.. too low to the point it made your mouth part open with a bit of drool about to start dripping down your chin. 
The steamy atmosphere slowly disintegrated from the bathroom into the bedroom air, the particles disappearing in the light. His dark black hair was absolutely drenched and dripping with water while he hand dried it with a separate towel.
It’s been so long, you never get to see him like this anymore. Rubbing your legs under the covers as you started to feel aroused, hoping it’d relieve something. Kageyama’s headed towards you, looking at the TV with the colorful lights reflecting on his freshly damp skin.
“Is this a new episode? Have you been watching it without me?” peering at you from behind. His stern dark blue eyes pierced into you, a subtle smile plastered on his face.
“Mhm.. you took too long to get back home I couldn’t wait anymore,” pouting playfully at him, chuckling as he sat on the end of the bed.
Feeling a sensation on your lower legs through the blanket, looking up you see a hand rubbing them up and down while his eyes are fixated on the screen. 
“Ha. I see how it is,” he blatantly said.
Kicking off the covers, you crawled near to him. Well, more like closer to his broad and toned back and started to softly massaging them. His tender muscular skin in between your fingers that worked like magic, relieving any of his soreness.
“Does this hit the spot?” whispering seductively in his ear through a smirk. His head gradually leaned back in delight, egging you on to go deeper into his tissue.
“Yeah.. it does. Can you go a bit higher?” cooing under his breath as his lashes flutter to a close. 
“Right here?” planting a gentle peck on the crook of his neck. 
“Oh you wanna do this right now?” taking the damp towel off his hair whilst averting his full attention to you in the back. His dark eyes reeked of sin and need that intoxicated the eye contact between you two. 
“Yeah—” cutting you off right as his lips raced towards yours. 
Crashing multiple times before he’s able to slide his tongue into your mouth. Exploring each and every crevice of your being. 
Kageyama’s leading and dominating kiss makes you back up onto the mattress as his stature completely towers upon you, towel somehow still clinging onto his waist as it brushes onto you. 
A warm large palm slithering its way up your dainty tank top as he continued breathlessly making out with your lips. You’re whimpering into the kiss as you start to lose breath. 
Detaching his plump lips from yours, making his way down to nip at the contours of your jaw and neck. His stare still lingering on your skin, watching each and every reaction. 
The water droplets from his wet hair catches onto your hot complexion as Kageyama places down a kiss on every possible area of your skin, almost drowning you in his affection as you straddle his broad bare shoulders to keep yourself afloat.
His fingers caressing your tender breast, pinching and flicking your little nubs as you squirmed in delight. The towel began to release from its grip, his erection hitting the surface of your thigh. 
Breaking away from your fast paced kiss that made you see stars, Kageyama throws your tank top off, leaving it somewhere on the floor. Nipping at your neck, creating red and bright pink marks moving down to your perky nipples. 
Kissing them gently before latching his hot mouth onto you. His warm damp air brushed onto your skin as his heart raced and pounded like crazy. The foreign sensation makes your head all foggy while his tongue continues to play and tease at your delicate little nub.
You didn’t realize when he began reaching his other hand lower, down towards the hem of your thin shorts. His two digits gently pressing on your crotch, finding your slit admist the fabric that concealed it.
“Tobio..” whining to catch his attention.
Kageyama’s dark blue gaze averts to your flushed complexion, instantly going back head level with you just a few inches away from yours.
“Yes, love?” slender long fingers tucking strands of hair behind your ears, his pupils darting everywhere as he inspected your expression.
“Oh, well.. just miss you a lot” pulling him in for a snug hug once more, just half naked this time. Feeling him in nothing made it feel more intimate. 
That was until you felt a hand slide down into your shorts, burning a smoldering heat as it pressed against your panties just right where it was damp. 
“Me too,” he purred. 
Putting space between you two for a brief moment, Kageyama helps you out of your shorts and underwear to keep up the pace as you two exchange more eye contact that begged for physical affection.
“..So wet?” running a hand up your slit, collecting your essence at the tip of his finger.
Biting down on your lower lip as you watched the tent that was just barely covered by his fluffy towel grow in size. Continuing with your antics, Kageyama lowers himself down onto you. His touch rubbing slow and small circles on your wet clit.
The sound of your juices melted with the audios of your sloppy passionate kiss as you whimpered with pleasure. A prodding at the entrance of your cunt, his middle finger slips in. 
Welcoming his digit with a warm clench, you just slightly take a moment to breathe in that fresh air. However, Kageyama’s lips don’t stop moving with all the free reign he has over your nudr and vulnerable body.
His plump lips move everywhere, kissing every crevice he may have missed from earlier. Adding in another finger, pumping them in and out of your sopping cunt at a steady and bearable rhythm. When Kageyama started scissoring, and curling his fingers inside you, was what made you start gripping onto his shoulders for dear life trying to receive him, nails starting to create crescent marks in his tender muscles as if imprinting your marks on him.
“S-So good..” you sobbed in his ear amongst the squelching and heated atmosphere that caught onto your skin. 
The pace of his plunging fingers increase to fulfill your orgasm, going knuckle deep. It felt like heaps of liquid dripped and pooled in the depths of your nether regions, inching you and edging you on. 
“Fuck ..Tobio ugh!!” The more he jammed his slender but thick fingers inside out, the more your nails clawed into him to stabilize your trembling body. 
Panting out all the air in your lungs the moment you creamed all over his digits. Watching as he slid them out to taste your orgasm on his tongue as a way to clean them off.
“You okay?” using his hand to caress your cheek, pressing a delicate kiss on your forehead. 
“Yeah, just put it inn.. I miss you being inside me” you whimper to him with your half lidded eyes, playing with his wet locs of hair that drew towards you from above.
“M’kay, don’t whine if you can’t handle it.”
Lining himself up at your entrance, slithering through your drenched folds beforehand to collect your fluids on his girth. Kageyama’s warm and relaxed strokes drawing your patience thin.
Reaching a hand down to guide his hands to your entrance with a look of passion written all over your face. His tip enters your aching cunt as you squirm in discomfort, the more he inched the more it felt like as if he’s splitting you open in two. 
“Does it hurt? Come here,” nodding while you got into his lap, tears starting to form in your eyes the more you tried to blink them away. 
Kageyama’s big arms hugged you tight as your walls gradually slid down and gripped onto his cock. Your walls expand to take his shape, keeping his dick warm and compact, almost like he’s about to explode inside, while he rewards you with small affectionate pecks till you feel better. 
“Sorry.. I guess it’s been a while,” he heard between sniffles. 
His subtle smile as he glances down at your glossy eyes makes you know that you have all the time in the world whenever you’re with him. 
“It’s okay. Don’t rush it if it hurts babe.”
Once you’ve situated his length nested inside your tight cunt, you’ve begun just to slowly grind your hips with his. However, not fully adjusted. Groaning in pain, continuing to have your walls mold to his cock while his hands linger around your bare waist inching lower to your ass. 
Making the first move, you slowly rose and dropped yourself onto him. The pleasure started to wash over the pain when you realized he’s starting to hit your deeper and stimulating areas that couldn’t be reached earlier in this position. 
His hands grasp onto your hips to support you as you continue to go at your own leisurely pace to get used to his dick once more. His husky moans suppressed under his breath, cursing to himself in the process as he loses himself in your addictive sensation. 
“You’re doing good, love” bringing a hand to the front to rub your swollen clit as you mumble out sweet, almost melodic moans that rang in his ears.
Calling out his name in between sobs of joy, he can’t take it anymore. Kageyama just wants to fuck you till your out cold and quivering from pleasure. 
Thrusting with all his might and stopping you in your tracks. Your body quaked as he reached further and into your nether regions, stimulating your g-spot multiple times. 
He’s cunningly snickering under his breath watching you become a moaning mess on top of him. Your breasts that dangled and bounced in front of him with each pounding were too tempting to not tease and suck on. 
The foreign sensation making its way back onto your body, licking you up and down making your chest feel weird in a content way. Sucking onto your perky plump nipple, Kageyama’s tongue wrapping around the nub with intent to overstimulate you with satisfaction. 
“Wait, Love. Might, cum–”
Crying out one last moan of joy while he continues to penetrate deep into your incoming orgasm at intensive and quick speed, your vision turns white when you feel a spurt of warm liquid ooze into your swollen red cunt. His stuttering words coming to an end when all you could hear is his gasps.
Clenching your plush walls around Kageyama, a rim of white froth built up on the base of his cock when he lifts you up by ur ass. Grasping all his cum mixed with your wet juices and orgasm that started to trickle out of your pussy. 
Panting as your exhausted sweaty body drifts down catching onto his muscular but tender chest that heaved up and down to catch his breath. His hands are giving you the tightest of tight hugs despite both of you being covered in a sheen layer of sweat and a mix of your essences. 
“Would’ve gone easier on you if I hadn’t been away for so long.”
masterlist here
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luna-azzurra · 1 day
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do you have any advice for writing a love confession without making it grossly cheesy or awkward?
im writing one between long time childhood best friends that are EXTREMELY close and im so stuck
Since these two characters have been best friends for a long time, the confession should feel like it’s built off their history together. Maybe start with a memory that’s meaningful to both of them. It doesn’t have to be a huge, dramatic moment, something small but personal, like a time they supported each other or a running joke they’ve had forever.
For example, one of them could say something like
“Remember that time we got caught in the rain walking home from school, and you made up that ridiculous song to keep me from freaking out? I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately… and I realized that’s when I first started seeing you differently.”
When people confess their feelings, especially in a real and vulnerable way, it’s usually not in flowery language. If you try to make it too poetic or dramatic, it might feel forced. Instead, keep it honest and straightforward. They don’t need to say “I’ve loved you all along” in some grand, movie-like way. Let the confession come out more naturally, almost like they’ve been fighting it for a while and finally just have to get it off their chest.
You could have them say
“I don’t really know how to say this, and it might sound weird… but somewhere along the way, I started seeing you as more than just my best friend.”
There’s no way for this kind of confession to be totally smooth, and honestly, that’s what makes it feel more authentic. They’ve been best friends forever, so there’s going to be nerves, maybe some hesitation or stumbling over words. Lean into that awkwardness, it actually makes the moment more relatable and shows how important it is to them.
Maybe one of them starts talking, realizes they’re rambling, and tries to correct themselves. Like
“Okay, wait, that sounded dumb, let me start over. What I’m trying to say is… you mean a lot to me, more than I’ve probably ever said out loud, and it’s kind of terrifying because I don’t want to mess things up between us. But I’ve gotta be honest, this is how I feel.” The vulnerability in admitting they’re scared to ruin the friendship makes it more heartfelt and real.
This is probably the most important part! These two aren’t just falling for each other out of nowhere, they’ve built this strong, deep friendship over the years. So the confession should acknowledge how much that means to them. Make it clear that the romantic feelings don’t take away from their friendship but add to it.
You could have one of them say something like
“You’ve always been the person I turn to for everything, and that’s not gonna change, no matter what. But lately, I’ve been feeling something more, and I can’t keep pretending it’s not there. I just hope it doesn’t mess things up between us.” This way, they’re emphasizing that the friendship is still the foundation of everything, but they can’t ignore the fact that it’s evolving into something deeper.
Overall, just make sure it feels true to the characters and their relationship. Don’t feel like you have to tie it up neatly with a perfect line or a romantic kiss right away. The beauty of this kind of love confession is that it’s messy and emotional, and it should reflect the complexity of their relationship. They don’t need to have all the answers right away. Let the moment be about the honesty and the fact that they’re finally admitting something that’s been building for a while.
Maybe end with something like
“I don’t know where this goes from here, but I had to tell you. You’re too important to me to keep pretending like I don’t feel this way.” This leaves room for both characters to process what’s happening without forcing a big romantic resolution right away. It’s more about them taking that first step into new territory, which feels more genuine and in line with the close friendship they’ve had for so long.
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barcaatthemoon · 2 days
Text
lover girl || kate martin x reader ||
Tumblr media
Kate comes to you needing a little love.
MINORS DNI, 18+, Smut warning.
You had never been with anybody as sweet as Kate Martin. It wasn't your fault, but you seemed to only ever attract womanizers and heartbreakers. For years, you had thought that you could fix them with love and care. Instead, all you had to show for it was heartbreak and despair.
Kate was different. Kate loved you just as much as you loved her, maybe even more. You had never even considered what it would be like to have a partner. Kate wasn't just your girlfriend or someone who you slept with after games. No, Kate Martin was your partner. She loved and cherished you even whenever you weren't doing what she wanted you to.
"Baby?" Kate called out. You had been up in your office finishing up a few things for work. Kate had gone out with some of the girls to play a pick up game at a park with some local kids. You loved that Kate was giving back to the new community who had accepted her as one of their own. Going from Iowa to Vegas was a big move, and you were happy that she had found her footing so easily.
You hadn't moved from Iowa, being a Las Vegas native. You were a friend of friend at first, but you and Kate had quickly hit it off. All it had taken was a bit of prodding from your friends and a night out on the town with Kate to kick off your relationship. The two of you took off running together and never dared to look back, and you were happier for it.
"I know that you were working, and it's honestly kind of late, but…" Kate trailed off as she cleared her throat. You turned around in your desk chair to see Kate looking like a nervous wreck. You pouted as you stood up and walked over towards her.
"Come on, talk to me," you told her. It was gentle prodding, something that you had learned from her. Both of you hated the idea of being a burden, so you were always hesitant to go to one another whenever you needed something.
"It's stupid, you're busy." Kate tried to turn away from you, but you didn't let her. You leaned up on your toes to press a kiss to her cheek. Kate was blushing when you started to pull away, and her arms held you tightly to keep you in close. "What are you working on?"
"Nothing really. I was watching YouTube," you admitted. Kate let out a small chuckle as she glanced back at your desktop. The video you'd been watching was paused, and Kate could see herself on the screen giving an interview. "What can I say? I'm kind of obsessed with you."
"It's okay, I am too." Kate had never shied away from how much she loved you. Your relationship moved fast, but you and Kate were good. Nothing felt rushed, you just enjoyed each other's company, and things just happened to align perfectly for both of you. "So much so that I was wondering if I could steal you away for a little bit?"
"Oh yeah?" you asked. Kate's hand subtly moved from the small of your back to rest on your ass. "What for?"
"I want you. I need to be close to you and feel you. Just for a little while, please. I need a bit of love," Kate said. She seemed close to begging with you, like she'd get on her knees if you asked. Lucky for her, you didn't want that from Kate. You wanted her to be happy, and if you were being honest, you always wanted Kate in that way. It was like an addiction almost, the thought of her taking you to bed every single night sitting in the back of your head during your every waking moment.
"Let's go." You hadn't even finished your sentence before Kate was scooping you into her arms. She carried you all the way from your little office to the bedroom. You wondered what Kate had been doing while you worked in your office. She had been back for maybe an hour or so before she had come to get you. The bed was still pristinely made from when she woke up, so you doubted that she had taken a nap.
"I love you," Kate mumbled against your lips. She placed a few clumsy kisses against your lips, waiting until you grabbed her face to pull her focus in. You tangled your fingers in her hair, tugging it out of the loose ponytail she had thrown it up in after her shower.
The two of you stayed entangled in each other as Kate set you down on the bed. Even as she undressed you, Kate was reluctant to move just half an inch away. She was being clingy, and you absolutely ate it up. You had never been with someone who wanted you so genuinely before, nor had you ever felt the same. There was nothing about Kate to fix, and yet, being with her filled you with a sense of happiness you had never known.
"I love you. I love you. I love you." Kate repeated again and again, each time pressing a kiss to your skin as she did so. She trailed kisses down your body, stopping just below your navel. Your pants were off, tossed somewhere on the ground near the hamper, but Kate had left your underwear on. She stared at you as she waited for you to tell her that she could continue. It didn't matter how comfortable the two of you were with each other, she always waited for you to give her permission when it came to the most vulernable parts of yourself. "Can I, please?"
"You're the only person I ever want to touch me like this," you told her. Kate blushed as she pulled your underwear down. She held eye contact with you, only allowing her eyes to dart down once you had looked away from her. Kate swallowed nervously, just she always did.
"Before I do anything." Kate moved up to give you a kiss before she settled back in between your legs. Your thighs were moved to rest on her shoulders as her arms looped around your hips. Kate was slow and gentle as she decorated the insides of your thighs in kisses. Finally, when you felt like you were on the verge of begging and pleading for more, Kate's lips pressed a kiss to your cunt.
Kate's fingers gently spread you open, revealing you to her completely. You threaded your fingers in Kate's hair, not pushing or pulling her in any direction. Her hands were busy, and you just wanted to holding onto her. Kate understood this, and let the fingers on her free hand move back and forth against your stomach.
You took deep breaths, matching the slow strokes of Kate's tongue. She was just trying to taste you. It wasn't about getting you off just yet, you still had a little ways to go until you got desperate. This was Kate's favorite part of things, when the two of you could just exist in this intimate space without any sort of push or pull going on.
"Fuck Kate, that feels so good," you moaned. Kate hummed her thanks as she brought her fingers up to rub against your clit. Your hips bucked forward, grinding against her fingers as her tongue lapped lazily at your entrance. Every drop of your arousal that she could get, Kate took. The strokes of her tongue began to grow feverish, and you knew that Kate was close to switching positions on you.
Her tongue replaced her fingers, and the two fingers that had been rubbing your clit were pushed inside of you. Kate let you move on her fingers, setting the rhythm and pace for her. She was quick to match your pace, long fingers grazing every spot you could have wanted her to in the process. Kate was good at what she did in every aspect of life, so you weren't embarrassed to come crashing down around her fingers so quickly.
Kate gently guided you through your orgasm. You felt light and airy, like the only thing keeping you from floating away was Kate's body on top of yours. She had pushed your legs from her shoulders, and now rested on top of you. Your hands were still in her hair, just barely scratching at her scalp. Kate was staring up at you when you finally glanced down at her, but you had no clue how long she'd been watching you for.
"Hi." Kate's smile was bright as she turned and pressed a kiss between your hips. She rolled completely onto her stomach and began to move higher up onto the bed. Now, it was your turn to lay against Kate as she opened her arms for you. "Shh, rest easy babe."
"Don't you-,"
"No, this was all I wanted. It's late. We can revisit this tomorrow when I get back from practice," Kate told you. You glanced over at the alarm clock, and she was right. Kate's practices for the next two weeks were all early ones, and it was nearly midnight already. "Do you need me to get you anything?"
"I'm fine. I can do it myself," you told her. Kate may have let you get up, but she still followed you around like a puppy. It was sweet how she still tried helping even with the easiest of tasks. You wanted her to get back in bed, but Kate didn't end up going back until you were comfortably tucked in beside her.
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rosemariiaa · 3 days
Text
~Lasts Firsts~
pairing: Paige x Azzi
a/n: yes i did lose my mind writing this but i had to! this is also my apology for the last fic.. 🤗 this is pretty long so take your time babe, also some tags @thaatdigitaldiary @patscorner @bueckerscore @juspeaks
themes: fluff, teasing
Enjoy!!!
It was barely 8:00 AM when Paige rolled over, her arm draping across the empty space next to her. She blinked into the early morning light, trying to shake off the sleep. She could already hear Azzi in the bathroom, humming softly, the sound so familiar it brought a small smile to her lips.
Last media day together.
The thought lingered like a weight on her chest, bittersweet and heavy. She dragged herself out of bed, feeling that familiar ache in her muscles from practice the day before, and made her way to the bathroom.
Azzi was standing in front of the mirror, twisting one of her curls between her fingers. Paige leaned against the doorframe, taking in the sight of her girlfriend’s morning routine—how peaceful she looked, even though they both knew today was going to be pretty emotional.
“Ready for the chaos?” Paige mumbled, voice still hoarse from sleep.
Azzi turned her head, giving Paige that small smile she always had when she knew Paige was nervous about something. “You asking me or yourself?”
Paige snorted, stepping closer until she was leaning against the counter beside Azzi. “Both, I guess.”
They didn’t say much after that, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Paige stared at her reflection for a moment, the weight of everything finally sinking in. Last media day, last season. After this? The WNBA.
“You think we’ll survive?” Paige asked quietly, her tone light but not really joking. Azzi met her eyes in the mirror, and for a second, Paige saw all the emotions they hadn’t really said out loud. There was excitement, sure, but underneath it was that uncertainty, the looming unknown of what came next.
“Paige,” Azzi said, her voice softer than usual. “You’re gonna be fine. We’re gonna be fine. You’ve been ready for this.”
Paige didn’t respond at first, just dropped her gaze to the sink. She’d been thinking about this a lot more than she’d let on. The WNBA wasn’t just another level—it was the next chapter of her life. And as much as she knew she wanted it, there was a part of her that was terrified.
“What if I’m not, though?” Paige’s voice came out quieter than she meant. “What if I mess this up? I mean… WNBA? That’s a whole new ballgame.”
Azzi turned around fully now, leaning her hip against the counter. She reached out, gently grabbing Paige’s wrist, thumb brushing over her skin in that way that always calmed her down.
“You’ve been playing against pros for years, P. You’re gonna go in there and do exactly what you do best. And… don’t forget you’ll be up against Diana, you’re probably gonna block her shots and then she’ll talk all kinds of shit you know how she gets,” Azzi teased, trying to pull Paige out of her thoughts.
Paige couldn’t help but chuckle, the tension in her chest easing just a little. “I can’t wait for Diana to “hate” me.” Azzi smirked. “Just don’t embarrass her too much.”
“Oh, I will. But not before embarrassing your Aces,” Paige shot back, her grin widening as Azzi’s eyes narrowed in mock warning.
“Excuse me?” Azzi gasped dramatically. “You better not mess with my team. If you even think about beating them, I’ll fly out there and beat you up.”
Paige laughed, leaning into Azzi, her forehead resting against hers. “You’re cute when you threaten me.”
“Not a threat, babe,” Azzi replied, her smile softening as she tilted her head just slightly, brushing her nose against Paige’s. “I’m dead serious. Leave the Aces alone.”
Paige wrapped her arms loosely around Azzi’s waist, finally letting herself breathe. For a second, she could forget about the future. It was just the two of them again, standing in their shared apartment, holding on to each other before the world outside came rushing in.
———-
By the time they arrived in the gym, the chaos was already in full swing, with half the girls making tiktok’s and going crazy per usual. The cameras, the bright lights, the reporters—it was all routine by now, but this time, everything felt heightened. It was their last one. The final first.
Paige watched as Azzi stepped in front of the camera, her expression automatically settling into her “game face,” the serious one she always had before interviews. Paige stood to the side, arms crossed, watching with amusement.
“You look like you’re about to kill somebody,” she muttered under her breath as she moved to stand beside Azzi for their photos. Azzi shot her a look. “I’m just focused.”
“Focused on terrifying everyone,” Paige teased, nudging her with her shoulder.
Azzi tried not to smile, but it broke through anyway, and Paige could feel the tension between them melt a little as they fell into the easy rhythm of their chemistry. They took their usual photos, Paige throwing her arm around Azzi’s shoulders, and their traditional piggyback pose, the same way they’ve done a thousand times before. But this time, the air between them felt different—heavier, full of all the memories they shared.
After the cameras stopped flashing, they hung back for a bit, watching the rest of the team get their moments in front of the lens.
“This feels… weird, right?” Paige said, her voice a little quieter now.
Azzi just nodded. “Yeah. But… it’s also kinda nice, knowing we did this together.”
Paige looked at her, her chest tightening with that familiar feeling of bittersweetness. “You’re gonna make me cry.” Azzi gave her a teasing smirk. “That’s my plan.”
———-
The media day madness finally wrapped up, and before Azzi could even think about unwinding, Paige had dragged her back home with a mischievous glint in her eye.
“What are you planning, Bueckers?” Azzi asked, standing in the doorway of their apartment, her arms crossed. “You’ll see. Just get dressed,” Paige said with a grin, shooing her toward the bedroom.
Azzi rolled her eyes but went along with it, emerging a few minutes later in the white tube top with Paige’s pink cover-up and those low-waisted jeans that Paige always went quiet about. She gave a little twirl, watching Paige’s eyes darken slightly.
“Stole my clothes again, huh?” Paige asked, leaning against the wall, trying to look unfazed.
Azzi smirked. “You love it.”
Paige just shook her head. “Get in the car, weirdo.”
They spent the car ride to the restaurant in comfortable silence, the only sound being Paige’s playlist—songs she’d carefully picked over the years, ones that always made her think of Azzi. At some point, Mitski came on, and Azzi hummed softly to the tune, stealing glances at Paige, who was drumming her fingers on the steering wheel.
“So, P,” Azzi started casually, “how nervous are you to play against Diana?”
Paige chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m not nervous are ut playing against Diana. I’m nervous about her kicking my ass after I block her.” Azzi laughed, the sound light and warm. “She probably will. I’ll be sitting courtside, watching her destroy you.”
“Thanks for the support babe,” Paige muttered, but she was smiling. Azzi always knew how to pull her out of her head when she got too wrapped up in her own thoughts.
“And just remember,” Azzi said, her tone a little more serious but still playful, “if you mess with the Aces, I will find you madison.”
Paige threw her a sideways glance. “Oh, I know. You won’t have to find me—I’ll be waiting for you.”
Azzi grinned. “You better be.”
———-
When they got to the restaurant, Paige made sure they sat in a booth—one where she could sit across from Azzi and just look at her. It wasn’t the most subtle thing in the world, but Paige didn’t care. Azzi caught on, of course, giving her a raised eyebrow.
“What? I just like looking at you,” Paige said with a shrug, grinning like she hadn’t just been caught.
Azzi rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. “You’re ridiculous.”
They were mid-conversation when the waiter came over, a girl with a bright smile who seemed way too interested in Azzi. Paige noticed immediately, her smile dropping slightly as the woman complimented Azzi’s hair, her outfit, even her smile. Azzi, as usual, was completely oblivious.
“Thanks,” Azzi said, flashing the girl a casual smile, but Paige could see what was going on, and it annoyed her just enough to act on it.
Without a second thought, Paige reached across the table, placing her hand firmly over Azzi’s. The waiter glanced down, her smile faltering as she realized the situation, quickly taking their order and backing off with a stiff nod.
Azzi blinked, glancing down at their hands before looking back up at Paige with an amused expression. “Was that jealousy?” Paige scoffed. “No, that was me stopping her from embarrassing herself.”
Azzi grinned, squeezing Paige’s hand. “Uh-huh. Sure, Paige.”
After dinner, the laughter between them hadn’t stopped. Even as they waved goodbye to their server, still teasing each other about that moment of jealousy, the warmth between them stayed, making the whole night feel like a dream.
Azzi didn’t even bother pulling out her card when the check arrived. The second she started reaching for her wallet, Paige shot her a look, the kind of look that said, don’t even think about it. Azzi had seen that look so many times before and just grinned, leaning back in her seat as Paige effortlessly snatched the check, sliding her own card inside before Azzi even got a chance to protest.
“Every time?” Azzi asked, her tone half-amused, half-resigned.
Paige just shrugged, a cocky smile on her lips. “I like spoiling you. What can I say?”
Azzi rolled her eyes, but the truth was she loved it too. It was a Paige thing—doing little things like this without asking, always showing she cared in her own way.
After they walked out of the restaurant, Paige naturally slipped her arm around Azzi’s waist like she always did. It wasn’t even a conscious move anymore; it was just how Paige was. Her hand rested comfortably against Azzi’s side, pulling her a little closer as they walked down the quiet street. Azzi leaned into her touch, feeling the warmth from Paige’s body and the comfort that always came with being this close.
Paige’s grip was gentle but firm, protective in a way that Azzi had always loved. It was something Paige did, even when she didn’t realize it—holding her close, like she was making sure Azzi knew she was always there, no matter what. It made Azzi smile, thinking about how many times Paige had held her like this over the years, whether after a tough game, during quiet moments between them, or just walking down the street like this.
They kept walking, laughing softly, the cool night air brushing against their faces, but neither of them seemed to notice. Everything felt easy between them, and Paige, in her usual way, kept the conversation light. Azzi could tell Paige was doing it on purpose, making her laugh to keep them from thinking too much about all the changes on the horizon.
They were about halfway to the car when Azzi suddenly slowed her pace, and Paige’s arm tightened slightly around her waist, glancing over with a curious look.
“You okay?” Paige asked, her voice casual but her gaze full of affection.
Azzi didn’t answer right away. She stopped, turning toward Paige and stepping in closer. Paige’s arm never left her waist, holding her in place like she always did, her body warm against Azzi’s side. Azzi stared at Paige for a long moment, just taking her in—the messy hair, the soft smile, the way she was always so present, so hers.
“I love you,” Azzi said suddenly, her voice soft but full of all the emotion she had been holding in. It wasn’t planned—it just came out, like it had been sitting on her chest, waiting for the right moment.
Paige blinked, a smile tugging at her lips as her eyes softened. Her hand on Azzi’s waist tightened slightly, pulling her just a bit closer. “I love you too,” she whispered, her voice gentle, almost like she couldn’t believe how lucky she was to hear those words.
They both stood there for a second, letting the words hang between them. Then, without thinking, Azzi reached up and cupped Paige’s face, pulling her in for a kiss. Paige didn’t hesitate, meeting her halfway, her lips soft and warm as they kissed in the middle of the street, the world around them fading away.
Paige’s arm stayed wrapped securely around Azzi’s waist as their kiss deepened, and it felt like everything else just melted away. It wasn’t rushed or frantic—it was slow and full of love, the kind of kiss that felt like a promise.
Azzi could feel Paige’s heartbeat against her own, steady and strong, and she knew, in that moment, that no matter what happened, no matter how far apart they might be in the future, they’d always have this. They’d always have each other.
When they finally pulled back, Paige’s forehead rested against Azzi’s, their breaths mixing in the cool night air. Paige smiled, her hand gently caressing Azzi’s side. “You’re stuck with me, you know that?” she whispered, her voice teasing but full of love.
Azzi grinned, her thumb tracing along Paige’s cheek. “Forever.”
———-
yeaa…that was a lot and so darn cute 🥹
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noira-l · 1 day
Text
𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠
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⋆ ★ '𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞' - 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬
chapter summary: Megumi awkwardly asks Satoru for help with his first shave after weeks of hesitation. Despite the teasing, Satoru patiently guides him, creating an unexpected bonding moment between them.
warnings: fluff, father / son moment, slice of life, first shaving, hitting puberty, razors, a little cut (blood, just a tiny bit), teasing, Megumi is kinda awkward and Satoru is proud to be a father figure.
author's note: Oke! So! I haven't seen a fic like this anywhere (might be wrong, correct me if so), and I found the concept totally adorable and couldn't resist writing this as soon as the thought popped into my head. Hope you like interactions between them ;3
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It had been a long couple of weeks for Megumi.
Every morning, he stared at the mirror, glaring at the small, stubborn patch of facial hair growing on his upper lip and chin.
At first, he tried to ignore it, thinking it might just be a phase, something that would disappear as quickly as it had appeared. But each day, it seemed to taunt him, getting thicker and darker. It was an undeniable sign that puberty, the inevitable storm he’d been trying to dodge, had arrived.
Megumi wasn’t one for asking for help, especially with personal things like this. He liked his independence, his ability to figure things out on his own.
But this?
Shaving?
This was unfamiliar territory, and though he hated to admit it, he needed guidance. He had stared at the razor his guardian had left out on the bathroom counter for a few days, feeling its weight in his hand as he practiced slow, cautious strokes in the air, too nervous to actually try it on his face. The thought of cutting himself was embarrassing enough. The last thing he needed was to walk around with a face full of tiny nicks and razor burns.
After much internal debate, he came to an uncomfortable conclusion: the only person who could help him with this was Satoru Gojo.
That realization didn’t sit well with Megumi. Of all the people to turn to, it had to be him.
Satoru was playful, unpredictable, and never missed an opportunity to tease Megumi about anything remotely personal. The idea of standing in front of a mirror with Satoru beside him, cracking jokes and treating it like some kind of bonding experience, made Megumi cringe. But, as much as he wanted to avoid it, he didn’t have a choice. If he didn’t ask Satoru, he’d have to figure it out himself - and that was a gamble Megumi wasn’t willing to take.
So, he waited.
He waited through the days when Satoru went on missions, or came home so late that he didn't manage to reach him, waited through the long silences when the house seemed even emptier without him. When Satoru was finally home at his normal evening time, Megumi knew he was out of time. He had run out of excuses.
Tonight was the night.
With a mix of reluctance and awkwardness, black haired one found himself standing outside the bathroom door, his hand hovering over it.
Inside, the sound of running water splashed against the sink. Satoru had disappeared into the bathroom minutes earlier, likely getting ready for bed after a long day. Megumi shifted on his feet, internally debating whether to knock or to just turn around and pretend like none of this mattered.
But the patchy mustache on his face wouldn’t let him ignore reality any longer.
He raised his hand to knock, hesitated, then finally let out a quiet tap against the door, barely loud enough to be heard over the sound of water. For a brief second, Megumi hoped maybe Satoru hadn’t heard it, and he could walk away. Maybe he could figure this out some other time, when it didn’t feel quite so embarrassing.
The hope didn’t last long.
There was a pause before the door swung open.
Satoru stood there, relaxed as usual, with a long shirt on and a towel slung over his shoulder. His white hair was still damp from the shower, with a few strands falling sloppily across his forehead. A small smile appeared on his face when he saw Megumi standing with her hands clumsily folded, trying to look indifferent.
"Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite brooding teenager." Satoru greeted, leaning casually against the doorframe, he mischief in his voice unmistakable "What’s up?"
Megumi shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the floor before looking up at Satoru with a faint scowl.
"I, uh… I need your help with something."
Satoru raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued "My help? With what exactly?" his grin widened as if sensing the awkwardness radiating off the kid "Come on, spill it. What’s the big deal?"
Eyes lowered to the floor, a faint scowl replacing any response. Megumi let out a frustrated breath, clearly uncomfortable "I… I need to learn how to shave."
For a second, there was silence. Then, predictably, Satoru's grin morphed into a wide, amused smile.
"Oh, this is amazing." he said, unable to contain his laughter "You, Megumi Fushiguro, the kid who broods his way through everything, needs my help with shaving? Oh, this is great. Really great."
Megumi rolled his eyes, arms crossed over his chest "I knew this was a mistake." he grumbled, turning as if to walk away "Forget it, I’ll figure it out myself."
But before Megumi could take a step, Satoru reached out and grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back toward the bathroom.
"No, no, wait, don’t be like that. I’m just messing with you!" he said, though the smirk hadn’t left his face "Come on, let’s do this. It'll be fun."
Megumi frowned, but he didn’t resist as Satoru ushered him into the bathroom.
The space was bright and the counter was cluttered with Satoru's various personal care products, though half of them looked like they hadn't been touched in months. The smell of shower gel was in the air. The older one crossed his arms, looking far too pleased with himself as he eyed the younger one’s face with exaggerated seriousness.
"Alright, kiddo, let’s start by taking a look." the older said with exaggerated seriousness, leaning in to inspect Megumi's face "Ah yes, a fine crop of peach fuzz, right here." he teased, poking lightly at his upper lip.
Fushiguro scowled, batting his hand away "It’s not that bad."
"Relax, it’s a rite of passage." Gojo replied, turning to rummage through the cabinet "Ah, here we go! Shaving cream, razor, aftershave… hmm, now do I trust you with a razor, or do I need to call in a professional?"
"Just get on with it." Megumi glared at him, exasperated.
Satoru chuckled, but didn’t push it further. He grabbed one of many razors in a multipack from the cabinet and handed it to Fushiguro with a grin.
Black haired stood in front of the bathroom mirror, now smeared with a bit of condensation from Gojo's recent shower. The weight of the razor in his hand felt strangely significant, like it was a test of maturity that he wasn’t quite ready for.
Awkwardness lingered, thick and undeniable. Satoru stood beside him, fiddling with his own razor as if this were a casual activity they did every day, his usual playful smirk tugging at his lips.
"So! Just like there are many cursed techniques..." he began, his voice dramatic "... there are also many techniques for shaving. Some are more efficient than others, but today, I’m going to reveal to you my own secret shaving technique."
He turned the faucet on, letting the water warm up before grabbing a washcloth and handing it to Megumi "Okay, first, wet your face with warm water. Opens up the pores or whatever."
He followed Satoru’s instructions, wetting his face, though he still looked like he wasn’t entirely convinced this was necessary.
White haired one then shook the can of shaving cream dramatically before squeezed some into his palm and handing it to kid next to him "Now, the magic foam. Lather it up."
Fushiguro did as he was told, applying shaving cream to his face while Satoru stood beside him, doing exactly the same thing as he did.
"Don’t go too heavy. Just enough to cover your face, but not so much that you can’t see what you’re doing." he spread the foam evenly across his own face, demonstrating as he spoke "See? A nice, thin layer. You wanna feel the razor, not get lost in a mountain of foam."
He felt so awkward, like he was painting his face, but Gojo was watching him with a surprising amount of patience.
"Not bad, not bad." Satoru said, nodding approvingly "But don’t forget the neck, unless you’re planning on walking around with half your face looking clean and the other half looking like a scruffy mess."
"Can you be serious for once?" Megumi muttered, focusing on spreading the cream evenly to his neck as well, trying to remember all the steps Satoru had demonstrated earlier.
Satoru just grinned wider.
"Where’s the fun in that? Alright, now for the tricky part. The razor. You wanna go with the grain, not against it, or else you’ll end up with cuts and looking like you’ve been attacked by an army of tiny knives. That's funny, I had a situation like that in real life!"
Gojo demonstrated by making movements in the air, not yet applying a piece of plastic to his face. Megumi tried to feel with his hand how he should turn the tool, so that it would go as smoothly as the older one next to him.
"Always go slow. If you rush, you’ll look like you’ve been in a fight with a cat and lost. Here’s the trick." Satoru said, lifting the razor and positioning it carefully against his neck.
"Start with the neck. It’s the easiest place to mess up, but also the easiest place to correct." Satoru explained, his tone suddenly more serious, as though he was giving instructions for something far more important than shaving "Just avoid too much pressure on Adam's apple and move slowly."
Megumi watched intently as Gojo carefully and precisely glided the razor down his neck, avoiding the sensitive area with practiced ease. Fushiguro, feeling a little more confident, brought the razor up to his own neck and mimicked the movements.
"Like this?" he asked, his brow furrowing in concentration as he worked alongside the white haired one, both of them standing side by side in front of the mirror.
"Exactly. Nice and steady." Satoru said, casting a sidelong glance at the younger one "Not bad, kid. Now, once you’ve got the neck down, you can move on to more complicated terrain." he watched as Megumi did a few strokes across his neck, he waited patiently for him to finish.
Satoru finished shaving his neck with ease "Don’t forget to rinse the blade after a couple of strokes." he did just that, risning the razor in boiling hot water. Then turned his attention to his chin. He lifted the razor, positioning it just below his lower lip.
"Now we move on to the chin. Gotta be careful here too, or you’ll end up looking like you lost a fight to a particularly angry porcupine."
Fushiguro followed suit, doing his best to replicate the careful movements his guardian was demonstrating. The two of them stood shoulder to shoulder, both razor-clad hands gliding across their skin.
It felt oddly… normal. Like this was something they did all the time, though it was far from their usual interactions.
"You know, I wasn’t really blessed with much facial hair. Genetics didn’t think I needed a full beard to complement my already perfect looks. But who knows, Megumi - you might end up with more to shave than I do."
Fushiguro huffed, concentrating on his strokes "Yeah, lucky me."
Satoru’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he continued to shave "Maybe you’ll be able to pull off that rugged look, huh? The ladies love that. But me, well, everything went into my other attributes." he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
"Can you just focus?" he nearly nicked himself.
Gojo chuckled "That’s what I should told you, you need to stay focused. Look at that - you’re getting distracted."
Black haired one glanced down and saw that he’d missed a spot on his chin. He muttered something under his breath, but quickly corrected his mistake, his movements now a little more cautious.
Gojo finished faster than him, completely avoiding the cheek area, as he mentioned he had absolutely nothing to shave there, so he washed his face straight away, wiping it with a towel.
Fushiguro, on the other hand, had a few randomly distributed hairs in different areas that he managed to shave off quickly, starting to catch on to how he should direct the blade to get the best effect.
"You know..." his guardian said, leaning against the counter "... you’ll be doing this more and more. Puberty’s a relentless thing. Before you know it, you’ll be shaving almost every day."
Megumi sighed "Great. Just what I wanted."
He was almost finished, but just as he reached a particularly tricky spot, the razor snagged slightly, catching on his skin. He stuttered in his movement, flinching slightly as the blade nicked him.
"Hold up." Satoru said immediately, catching the motion out of the corner of his eye "I told you. You’re not fighting a curse here, no need to rush."
Megumi frowned, frustrated with himself, dabbing at the small cut "Yeah, yeah. I’m fine."
Gojo gave him a knowing smile, though it was softer this time "Just a small nick, no big deal. Happens to everyone the first time."
"Even you?" Fushiguro asked, though there was a hint of skepticism in his tone.
"Especially me. You should’ve seen my first shave. Looked like I went head-to-head with a blender." a wide grin appeared on the pale face.
"I doubt that."
The last bit of cream disappeared from the young teenager's face. He turned on the tap and rinsed off the rest of the little white lines that remained on his face. The towel absorbed the drops of water that ran down his neck.
He glanced at himself in the mirror. Instantly better. Although he reproached himself for the little scratch, Megumi was genuinely pleased with the effect he had achieved. Finally he wouldn't have to be embarrassed at school about how he looked.
Satoru, standing beside him, seemed far too proud.
"Look at that! Clean as a whistle." he said, examining his face with exaggerated approval "Not bad for your first time. But we’re not done yet."
"Huh? What now?" Fushiguro groaned internally, shooting his guardian a sideways glance.
He didn't understand a bit, after all he had just finished, what does this annoying type still want from him? It's enough that he feels stupid sitting here with him anyway, asking him for help.
"The grand finale." Satoru announced, picking up a small bottle of aftershave from the counter. He wiggled the bottle in front of the teen's face like it was some kind of treasure "Aftershave cream!"
"What’s it for?"
Gojo uncapped the bottle, squeezing a small dollop of the aftershave cream onto his palm "It’s for soothing the skin after you’ve shaved, kid. Makes sure you don’t end up with razor burn. Plus, it smells nice - very sophisticated, like you’re someone important."
Megumi raised an eyebrow, unconvinced "You sure it’s not just another way for you to mess with me?"
Satoru gave a dramatic sigh, shaking his head. "You wound me, Megumi. This is the real deal. You’ll thank me later."
He rubbed the aftershave cream between his hands and then gently applied it to his own face, patting it onto his freshly shaven skin with practiced ease.
"You don’t need too much, just a little to cover the areas you shaved. Trust me, it’s important. Otherwise, your face will feel like it’s on fire later."
Fushiguro eyed the bottle warily but took it from Gojo’s hand. He squeezed a small amount into his palm, hesitating for a moment before rubbing it between his hands and awkwardly patting it onto his face like the older one had done.
"Don't rub it in like you're washing your face." the older one said, grinning as he observed his technique "Just tap it on. Light touch. Gotta treat your skin like it's worth something."
Megumi muttered something under his breath, but adjusted his approach, patting the aftershave onto his cheeks and chin. The cooling sensation spread across his skin, soothing the slight irritation left from the razor.
"See?" Satoru said, giving a nod of approval "Nice and smooth. And now you smell like a responsible young adult."
"It’s... strong." black haired couldn’t help, but wrinkle his nose at the scent
White haired laughed, clapping Megumi on the shoulder.
"Yeah, but it fades pretty quickly. Besides, it’s part of the process. Get used to it - you’ll be doing this more and more."
Megumi wiped his hands on a towel, his face still tingling slightly from the aftershave. He looked in the mirror, taking in the results of his first proper shave. He looked good, like his normal self he was used to.
Satoru stood beside him, admiring his own reflection with a satisfied grin.
"Now you’re officially a man. Or at least, a step closer to it."
There was no respond to that, just flicker in younger eyes, as if he realised something.
Satoru grabbed the aftershave bottle and put it back on the counter, then turned to Megumi with a grin.
"Next time, we’ll get into the more advanced stuff. Maybe I’ll even teach you about beard shaping."
"I’m never growing a beard." Fushiguro shot him a flat look.
Gojo chuckled in respond.
"That’s what they all say. Just wait until it sneaks up on you."
The teen shook his head, already done with the conversation, but despite himself, he felt a small sense of relief. This whole shaving thing wasn’t as bad as he’d thought it would be, and Satoru - teasing aside - had actually been helpful. Weirdly enough, it was kind of nice having him around for things like this.
"Alright, shaving master..." Satoru said, throwing his arm around his shoulders as they left the bathroom "...let’s go show off that baby face to the world. And remember, every time you shave, think of it as another step toward adulthood."
"Pretty sure it’s just a step toward more chores." he snorted in respond.
Gojo grinned "Exactly! You’re getting it."
Megumi, now freshly shaved stood at the door of his bedroom, watching as his guardian stretch his arms above his head with a satisfied grin.
"Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?" Satoru asked, still clearly pleased with himself as he prepared to head to your shared bedroom.
Fushiguro shifted his weight from foot to foot, his eyes flicking down to the floor as he cleared his throat.
"Yeah, it was… fine." he muttered, glancing up briefly before looking away again.
There was a pause, then he added, barely audible "Thanks for the help."
Satoru turned toward him, his grin softening into something more genuine. He walked over to Megumi and gave him a playful pat on the shoulder, though his tone had a rare warmth to it "Anytime, kid. And hey - don't be embarrassed. You did good."
Megumi's face flushed slightly, and he gave a small nod before opening the door "Good night, Gojo."
Satoru smirked, watching him go.
"Good night, Megumi." he called after him, amusement dancing in his voice.
As Satoru lay back on the bed, a quiet sense of softness washed over him.
He hadn’t expected Megumi asking for help with something as simple as shaving to hit him like this. For all the teasing and playful banter, there was something deeper - Megumi was growing up and Satoru felt like he was more than just a protector, guardian or teacher.
He was part of that growth.
And he couldn't be more proud.
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© noira-l 2024 | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, or redistirbute my work without permission
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tl: @kalopsia-flaneur
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cvnntagious · 2 days
Text
Mama
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☆ Fratboy!Chris Sturniolo blurb for @chrissexygf
Chris looked at you as you watched him pry your legs open, giving in to his touch against your better judgement. His pink lips wet with your saliva placed a kiss on your knee, trailing them down your leg to stop at the inside of your thigh. His eyes never left yours, glimmering with excitement and the afterglow of a high he'd just come down from. It felt like he'd waited for this moment forever.
"Lemme in it," He rasped, finger running up your pelvis to stop at the waistband of your pajama pants. A strange, but not out of character way of asking if he could finally hit.
As soon as you nodded, Chris licked his lips, tasting your lipgloss on them. He wasted no time in pulling your pants off of you, tossing them somewhere behind him. Shamelessly ogling, his fingers reach up to press the apparent wet spot on your cotton underwear. The action eliciting a hiss, his eyes flicked up to your face for a moment before he began tracing patterns around the area.
You whined under your breath at the teasing, causing Chris to smirk at the quiet noise. His tongue flattened to lick your aching core through the fabric, free hand holding your thigh down when he felt you try to close your legs around his head. "mm-mm," He made a noise of disagreement, shaking his head as he lifted it between your legs, "You alright, Mama, m'gonna be real nice to you tonight if ya stop all that fuckin' movin'."
With a pleading look on your face, you nodded obediently. At that, he looked back down at your core, his fingers tugging down your panties to comepletely expose it to him for the first time. "Fuck," He groaned at the sight, cunt leaking and lips wet with your liquids.
There was no warning when he swiped his finger down your folds to gather some of your juices on the tip of it, spreading them slightly as he did so. A small squeal left your mouth when the finger glided over your bud, Chris' smirk only growing when he looked up at you once more.
He kept eye contact while he slid that same finger into his mouth, groaning as he swirled his tongue around it and tasted you, then taking it out with a pop. "Yeah— Yeah, you're gettin' it good," He gave you a smug grin, sharp canines peeking out from his lips.
"Chris, y—"
He cut you off with a shush, slapping the inside of your thigh and rubbing the pain away in what felt like the same motion, causing your eyes to widen momentarily. "Don't worry, Mama," He said simply, kissing your throbbing folds before he lifted himself off of his forearms, "M'not gonna waste my time eatin' that right now, I already done that before."
You watched his every move, crawling up the bed to hoover over you, "I'm trynna feel your insides, ya feel?" He clarified, hand reaching between both of you to unbuckle his belt, "Just like y'said I could."
"Well, yeah, but-"
At that alone, Chris' eyes met yours with a burning intensity, no longer worried about the belt he'd just pulled out of the loops of his jeans in his hand. "What, y'don't want it no more?" He lifted himself more so he was now higher above you - further away from your face.
With a sigh at his heckling, you grabbed onto his bicep firmly, trying to get his full attention. "Chris," You repeated, "I'm telling you not to forget the condom in your back pocket." You spoke in a playfully frustrated tone, rolling your eyes at the way he struggled not to talk all the time.
Chris chuckled, shaking his head as he reached into his back pocket, "How'd you kn-"
"I accidentally pulled it out when you asked me to grab your wallet for you earlier," You answered before he could finish, hand reaching up further to now play with the tufts of curly brown hair at the base of his skull, "While that guy was buying that stuff from you."
The way he bit his lip while you spoke had you leaking more, likely onto the bed beneath you. His eyelids dropped a bit as he chuckled again, this time deeper and more prolonged. Then, he shuffled his jeans off and brought the gold magnum up to your face, slapping your nose with it, "So you think i'd forget this?" His tone was teasing, like something like that were impossible for him to do.
Without another word as you shook your head, he slipped his already hard length out of his boxers, discarding them in the same area he'd tossed your pajama pants. He pumped his length with his fingers above you, one hand propping himself up on the pillow beside your head as he hummed. The condom then slid onto his erection without a second glance to it, lining himself up with your small hole.
His tip prodded at your entrance for a moment before he used the same fingers to spread your wetness all over the condom, making sure it was ready to slip inside you. With that, he began to push into your cunt, watching the way your face twisted at the stretch. He only got in about half way before he slowly pulled back, feeling your walls clench around him when he then thrusted once more into you, bottoming out with a pleased groan.
Even with the condom, you both could feel everything, sensitive and receptive to each other. Almost instantly your legs lifted to give him more access, knees bending at his sides. "Mhm— that's what I been waiting for, " He muttered before slowly pulling back again, this time beginning to rock his hips into you.
He kept a steady pace as you gasped, head throwing back into the pillow. His free hand lowered to grab your hip, lifting your shirt slightly to get a better grip with your push skin. You let out some "oh's" as he picked up his pace, keeping his eyes trained on the way your face twitched and twisted.
As much as he wanted to keep his face close to yours, he wanted to feel all the depths of your inside more, lifting himself so he was now just on his knees in front of you. He grabbed the back of your knee to push your leg back as he fucked into you, loving the way you began whining with each thrust. "This shit's fuckin' perfect, Mama," He assured you through gritted teeth, his thrust seeming to increase in speed with each word, "Such good pussy."
His praises along with his powerful thrusts causing your guys' skin to clap loudly had you moaning and gasping loudly, lip finding its way between your teeth. You whimpered beneath him each time he hit your g-spot, and Chris felt your legs begin to tremble. Even so, he couldn't just give you up that easy, his hand grabbing a fist full of the bottom of your shirt to pull you into him so you could meet his movements. "ah- ohhh," He began mocking your moans, sly grin on his face, "Y'want it, hm?"
You nodded eagerly, eyes screwing shut as moan after moan fell from your lips. "I told you, Mama," He chuckled, refraining from moaning himself, "Told you I was gonna give you that good shit... How ya feelin' now?"
"S- so good," You struggled to get out, voice strained by the way his dick fogged your brain.
Chris licked his lips as you felt him twitch inside you, indicating he was close just like you. "I bet it is," He replied cockily, allowing himself to purse his lips together and let out hums of pleasure for a moment, "M'gonna give you what you want, okay? 'N you gonna give me what I want — Jus' gotta say my name, pretty."
It wasn't easy, but you obeyed, hissing out his name a few times when he'd thrust real good into you. Then, you felt that pressure in the pit of your stomach snap, chanting his name like a prayer as you came on his cock. And with that, Chris let out a few load groans, his cum following yours and filling up the rubber interception on his dick.
He rocked both of you through your highs, thrusts slowing each time until it eventually came to a stop. Both of you panted, and Chris lowered himself back down, this time putting his weight onto you. "Lucky s'our first time," Chris mumbled just loud enough for you to hear, his cheek smashed into your chest, "I'd be goin' another if it wasn't."
"Hope that pussy tight, mama / This love at first sight, mama / You the type I like, mama." -Rob49
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w/c : 1.4k
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