#but my feelings are making me have feelings

[softnsweeet0]

I can’t wait to spend another night stuffing myself until I feel so heavy I can’t get up off the couch by myself 🥰

[classyrbf]

nerd!gojo who can’t get you out of his head. Not a minute passes by where he isn’t thinking of you. So imagine breaking his little heart when he spots you swapping spit with some popular frat boy. He can’t help but feel jealous, even sad. It’s just a stupid crush, it’ll go away. Right? Wrong. Because the deal you two struck forces gojo to see you every few days for a tutoring session, where you hand over your chem work to him and he does it without hesitation like your little dog, only for you to jerk his cock and make him cum in return. Poor baby can’t help but imagine you doing the same to that jock. And he can’t help but grow curious the next time he sees you.

“Hey, um,” Gojo looks up from his desk, “who was that guy you were with earlier in the halls?” He blinked, watching at the way you typed away on your phone, your acrylics clacking against the screen, obnoxiously chewing on your gum with glossed lips.

“Hm?” You furrow your brows. ��Oh! You mean that stupid jock frat boy Toji?” You sit up. “Don’t worry about him.”

“Is he…your boyfriend? I saw you two kissing…it’d be kinda weird if he was your boyfriend…you know—because—”

“Such a perv! Are you spying on me now?!” You scoff.

“No! No! I wasn’t! I’m not!” Gojo furiously shook his head. “I was…curious.” You carefully walk over towards Gojo, a soft smirk on your pretty face while you blew your gum into the shape of a bubble. “Sorry,” he muttered, feeling embarrassed, stupid for even asking.

“Are you mad? Mad that I was kissing someone else?” You giggle. “I only use that idiot to get into all the school parties.” He slowly turned his head to look at you.

“But do you—”

“Do I what? Jerk him off like I do with you?” You almost laugh at the idea. No way in hell. “I’ve only sent the desperate loser nudes to get off to. But you’re special, Toru.” You push his chair slightly away from his desk that way you could straddle yourself on top of him. “You’re so much more smarter than him. So much more handsome. And you do everything I say just like the good boy you are.” Your tone is soft and sultry, just enough for Gojo to melt right into your hands. He could feel the heat creep up to his cheeks, face flushed red and throat dry as you rock your hips against his slightly. “I get it now. You were jealous, huh?” You coo. “It’s okay, you can tell me.”

Gojo opens his mouth, breathing shakily, hesitating to answer. “Y-yes,” he quietly says, nodding.

A smile creeps up on your face as you get an idea. “Toru, have you ever ate pussy before?” His eyes immediately go wide, breaking eye contact with you as he looks anywhere around his dorm. “I’ll take that as a no,” you giggle. “How about we change up your reward today, hm? You get to eat me out, yeah?” Gojo sheepishly nods, shaky hands pushing his glasses back up his nose.

Minutes later, he has you sprawled out on his bed, his pretty face buried deep in your cunt as he messily eats you out, sucking, licking, slurping all over your clit and folds. His teary eyes stare up at you, addicted to the way you smile down at him and run your fingers through his soft, pillowy white hair, holding his head down. “A little more up—ah, yes, yes, right there—mmmm.” You bite down on your bottom lip, surprised at how much of a fast learner he is. In all reality, you shouldn’t be. He’s a nerd. “You like the way my pussy tastes, don’t you?” You moan softly.

Gojo nods without hesitation, his hands holding your thighs apart as he runs his tongue up and down slit before circling it over your sensitive clit. He can your juices running down his and chin and god, he’s intoxicated by your taste. Everything about you just has him wanting more and more. “You look so cute looking up at me over your glasses,” you sweetly say. “Makes me even more wet.” Gojo is trying his hardest to cum in his pants right now, but you make it so damn hard.

He lifts his head to catch air, licking your juices off of his lips. “Am I doing a good job?” He asks, bashfully.

“Mhm, it’s like you’re a natural.” You cup his face, running your thumb over his cheek. Either he’s a natural or maybe he’s just so desperate to eat your pussy that he’s doing a surprisingly good job. Whichever it was, Gojo didn’t care enough to dwell on it especially when you’re pushing his head back down. Your phone began to ring, you picked up within a few seconds. “Heyyy.” You smiled. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be down in a few minutes—mmph! What? No, I didn’t moan you pervert! Ugh, fuck you Toji, I just need to finish my tutoring session remember?” You roll your eyes.

Gojo could feel the jealously in his chest stir again. How could you make him feel so special and so casted out at the same time. But it only fueled the want to make you cum harder. He could see you were struggling to breathe normally, trying to hold your moans in. “See you in a few. Bye!” You quickly hung up, tossing your phone aside. “Fuck! What’s gotten into—oh, fuck! Ah, mmph! Yes, yes, yes, I’m gonna cum!” You grip onto his hair, rocking your hips against his face as you came undone, lewd moans and gasps filling the room.

Gojo sat up, staring at you, his glasses slightly fogged. “Did it feel good?”

“First time eating pussy and you already made me cum? I’m shocked, honestly,” You say, slipping on your panties and pulling down your skirt. “Thanks for the orgasm, sweets, but I really gotta go. Mwah!” You blew a kiss at him, snatching your phone off of his bed.

“Going to see Toji?” He couldn’t help himself.

“Ugh, Gojo stop getting all possessive and jealous. We’re not a thing. See you in a few days for the next assignment.” You rolled your eyes, tapping away on your phone.

"Oh...okay, sorry—" you walked out his dorm room, slamming the door. And once again, he was left there completely entangled with his thoughts and feelings. None of them good.

[kurooh]

❤︎ LOVE POTIONS ! — MY HERO ACADEMIA

⊹₊˚. VALENTINE’S DAY 2025 — aphrodisiacs are both a curse and a blessing. / midoriya izuku, bakugo katsuki, todoroki shoto, kirishima eijirou, kaminari denki, & takami keigo.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, aphrodisiacs / sex pollen, dirty talk, edging, brattiness, overstimulation, squirting, threesome, sickness but it’s sexy, breeding kink, unprotected sex.

xoxo, juno. everyone pretend it’s v-day 💘

MIDORIYA IZUKU.

⟡ getting hit by a villain’s quirk right before valentine’s day was not something you’d planned to do. somehow, the effects of the quirk end up being an early gift and also a curse.

fat tears race down izuku’s face, his hands grasping weakly at the sheets with each dizzying bounce of your ass onto his thighs. an hour has passed, spent in different positions around the house with less than five minute breaks in between—but no matter how many times you cum, the glowy pink ring around your irises doesn’t go away.

“too much, ‘s too much,” he slurs, words running into each other and becoming jumbled nonsense. “baby, i can’t, not anymore—shit! ‘m empty now, and it h-hurts so bad.”

“hurts?” you parrot disbelievingly, too deep under the spell to feel the burn in your thighs. “‘zuku, know what hurts?”

“no, i know,” he sobs, balls squeezing painfully as the familiar pressure returns to his cock. it’s familiar, but it’s not the same; there’s no cum involved, he’s been drained too dry to give you anything. “l-last time, please. i need a minute to, ngh, relax.”

it hurts. izuku’s cock is practically purple with overstimulation, but he’s too entranced to pull you off himself. when you’d arrived home, tugging at his belt and babbling about what had happened, izuku took a moment to consider if he had any notes on something like this.

villains with these types of quirks have always been rare, and it’s just his luck that one popped up before valentine’s day.

the couch groans from the combination of movement and weight on it, yawning with wear. izuku has never underestimated your strength or sex drive, but this . . you’re bouncy, and he’s wondering if the villain’s quirk enhanced your stamina too.

in a startling display of affection, you grab at his jaw and kiss away his tears, cooing sweet, sensual nothings into his ear. your voice is smooth when you tell him how good he’s doing, how sexy he looks when he’s whining so sweetly. just when he’s thinking it can’t get any better, you hit him where he’s weakest with a sultry murmur of want you to put a baby in me, izuku.

flustered, he can’t help but let out a squeal when you nip at his neck, kissing over previous bites and smatterings of freckles.

“do what you want with me,” he surrenders, verdant green eyes meeting your own. “hah, if that’s what you want, jus’ use me. fuck me, baby.”

BAKUGO KATSUKI.

⟡ you have the misfortune of tracking a villain with japan’s number one hero, the all too explosive dynamight. everything completely unravels during the confrontation, when katsuki’s rushing forward to deliver the final blow. the dastardly villain releases a thick, noxious smoke that fills the air with a sickening sweetness — despite all the coughing and hacking, he manages to subdue the villain until the police arrive, but you never make it back to the agency to regroup.

ridiculous, is all you can think as you’re being folded in half in the back of a company car that’s sneakily wedged in an alleyway. katsuki’s not-so-gentle teeth nip at the tender skin of your thighs, and he doesn’t think twice about the marks that are sure to show up by tomorrow.

“d-deeper, katsuki,” you writhe against the seats, too handsy for his liking. “please, it’s not deep eno—”

“shut it,” he grunts, scowling down at you. his usual expression doesn’t quite have the same effect it usually does, since it’s been mellowed out by the villain’s aphrodisiac like quirk. “don’t you dare tell me how to fuck, got it?”

a bratty huff escapes you, and you make a show of rolling your eyes at him, seemingly unimpressed. “i wouldn’t have to if you’d just do it right. oh, but who am i to judge the number one?”

a vein bulges from his forehead as he listens, crimson eyes seething silently while you continue to lay it on thick. “i guess dynamight can fuck however he wants, even if it’s subpar—”

in an instant, katsuki’s hand is on your throat and applying just enough pressure to force out a gasp from you. that teasing and talking back worked—now he’s really about to come undone, show you just how strong the number one pro can really be.

“can’t take that back now, can you? if you think you can insult me and order me around, oh,” katsuki grinds his teeth, pressing your knees into your chest without taking a moment to appreciate the pretty moan that leaves you. “fuck, you’ve got another thing coming. shut your mouth.”

“make me.”

he can’t seem to recall a time where he’s ever been this turned on—that aphrodisiac quirk’s got nothing on the way you talk to him, challenge him in a way that nobody has before.

katsuki draws his hips back, slow and deliberate in each movement. you were right, he wasn’t giving you his all; but now, he will, and he won’t stop until you eat your words. deeper? harder? faster? if that’s what you’re asking for, he’ll give it to you.

you watch breathlessly, mesmerized by the frustrated scrunch of his face, all because he can’t stop replaying your words in his head. a harsh slap to your clit snaps you out of your daze the moment it lands, stinging terribly.

“let’s work up to that, alright? you’re going to—”

“what if i don’t, katsuki?” you tip your chin up at him, looking down your nose at him. “then what?”

another slap, this time with a little more strength behind it. he disregards everything you just said, getting ready to give you an explosive orgasm you’ll have to work hard for.

“that’s what. now, let’s try that again—you’ll be good and count each slap, unless you want me to spank this slutty pussy raw,” satisfied by the responding clench of your cunt, he arches a brow and smirks. “your choice, brat.”

TODOROKI SHOTO.

⟡ with a new, unstable virus spreading rapidly through japan, scientists are racing to develop a cure. it seems to act like the standard flu, but it affects quirk users differently—shoto ends up with an unusual kind of fever.

“ah, ‘m cumming, sho,” cum squirts from your pussy like a waterfall, and everything’s so overwhelming that you unintentionally push his cock out. “good, ‘s so fucking good.”

sweat coats his face, clinging to the rough scar on shoto’s left side. panting, he sucks in a breath, grasping around for his swollen cock.

“i’m sorry,” his voice cracks once his tip slides through your sticky folds and makes your back jolt off the bed, “it’s just—shit, it’s not enough.”

“a-again? i, hah, don’t know if that’s a good—”

shoto shakes his head, shivering as a thin layer of frost appears on his right cheek; it sparkles brilliantly before melting into droplets of water that drip from his jaw. “i’m still burning up,” it’s completely out of bounds, but the low rasp of his sickly voice scratches an itch in your brain. “see, lovey? can’t even use my quirk to fix it.”

a sigh escapes you, and you spread your trembly thighs one more time. “i might be too tired to drive you to the hospital after this,” you warn.

“i know, but baby,” gratefully, shoto pushes forward, burying his cock to the hilt inside you. his warm hand settles on your lower belly to add some pressure, gearing you up for another explosive orgasm. “i don’t wanna be like this when we go to the hospital.”

he flushes darkly with embarrassment, and the mental image of a tortured shoto rutting into a hospital bed as waves of the fever’s severe effects overwhelm him is enough to make you soften.

once he starts to thrust, developing a rhythm that would put your own fingers to shame, his mouth drops open and he’s babbling incoherently. “ . . always so fucking hot around you, baby. i-it’s not my fault you’re so—haa, shit—so perfect, making me burn up whenever you’re not looking.”

and because being this deep inside you is as close as he can get to heaven, shoto sees no reason to hold back on the honest praise. he’s always been a little shy to express himself during sex, mouth drying up whenever he tries to say something rather dirty, but not now. since his brain is being fried by the heat at the moment, he won’t feel any embarrassment.

“sho, right there,” a breath is punched out of your lungs, and your nails scratch at his shoulders each time his tip kisses your sweet spot. “oh god, ‘m gonna make a mess again!”

his cock twitches and he moans your name, only egging you on. “can’t wait to taste it, darling.”

you fall off the edge, his words serving as the final push. euphoria curls through you, cresting like a wave until the sensitivity becomes too much, bringing you back to earth. abs clenching, shoto pulls out to cover your stomach in white.

in an instant, shoto’s temperature drops. quietly, he shivers against you, huffing into your neck.

“i want to stay like this before we leave.”

“you’ve got ice forming rapidly on your back, sho.”

“it’ll melt if i’m cuddling with you . . could you also rub my back? maybe i just need to sleep it off.”

KIRISHIMA EIJIROU.

⟡ eijirou listened to you specifically tell him NOT to eat the wrapped cookies you had in the fridge and when you left, he did exactly that.

“babe, baby, you feel so good,” cum races down his fingers in creamy rivulets, puddling at the base of his cock. caught up in his fantasy, eijirou flicks his wrist faster, hoping with all his heart to imitate the hot squeeze of your cunt. “s-so pretty when you take me, always so fuckin’ beautiful.”

his voice cracks just as the door opens, and your purse falls to the floor. your boyfriend is spread out on the bed, flushed feverishly and gasping out your name like he’s delirious—it would be the perfect scene to come home to if you didn’t spot two torn cookie wrappers near him.

“eijirou,” you speak his name lowly, catching his eyes and raising a brow. he’s not sure if he should feel awkward or turned on because of your scolding tone, so he just swallows dryly and looks toward you with hooded eyes. “already forgot the speech i gave you? why’d you eat the cookies?”

shame creeps up his neck and makes his skin prickle uncomfortably. grasping for a response, eijirou decides to question you right back. “why’d you have sex cookies in the fridge?”

“they were a surprise for valentine’s!”

oh.

now he really feels dumb for spoiling your plans. perhaps if he hadn’t been so hungry, so greedy, he wouldn’t be embarrassed under your scrutinizing gaze.

but the feeling doesn’t last long—your tough face drops into something more sultry: doe eyes and an upturned quirk of your lips that’s sure to finish him.

the mattress sinks under your weight, and you scoot beside him with a self satisfied smile. it’s small and quiet, but a voice in the back of his head tells him maybe you wanted this to happen; you certainly don’t look too upset about it.

“no way, baby,” a hiss escapes him when you slap his cum-stained hand away from his cock, instead choosing to replace them with your own. “am i dreaming? mrs. red riot, are you—”

his narration throws you off, and you choke just kissing his tip. you know eijirou’s surprised and eternally grateful, but damn. “mr. red riot, you’d be quiet if you wanted me to.”

“sorry,” he says earnestly, tensing up to hide the fact that he’s shaking like a leaf when you finally take him in your mouth. “i’ve just—” he inhales sharply as you slowly, torturously take him inch by inch. “i’ve been waiting s-so long for you to come home, babe.”

you swallow, throat squeezing tight around his cock, and eijirou’s clean hand flies to the back of your head, hovering precariously. “i’m crazy about you, all day every day, and the cookies made it worse. ‘m sorry for spoiling the surprise, i didn’t mean to—haa, w-what’re you doing to me? oh, you’re gonna make me—”

it doesn’t take long for obscene slurps and occasional gags to fill the room as you suck eijirou’s cock, spoiling him with each languid bob of your head. it’s too much, and the tension grows thicker in his gut, setting his insides ablaze with anticipation.

he’s hurtling toward his high, jerking his hips up and shamelessly preparing to fill up your throat this quickly—but then, you push yourself off of him. a shudder ripples through his body, and he throws you a pained, wide eyed look.

“why’d you..? baby?”

you motion for him to lay on his back, and he can see the gears in your head turning behind a wicked smile. “might as well draw it out, hm?”

“you’re gonna milk me?”

he’s so cute . .

you want to see him crying.

you hum, “only until you’re begging for me to stop.”

KAMINARI DENKI, ft. SERO HANTA

⟡ an undercover sting at a mysterious village with your work partners doesn’t go as smoothly as planned. the village, out in the far country, has been reported as the one place with the highest levels of quirk activity in japan. little did you know about the fact that this place is home to infectious pollen that makes its way into people via the air, or about its temporary effects on people . .

“what the fuck,” you moan, vision blurry between their faces and intermittent flashes of light. “there’s no way it’s from a plant, it can’t be—”

hanta’s tongue darts out to lick the salt away from his upper lip, and he points a finger toward a passage in the encyclopedia. “the symptoms are, ngh, the same.”

one of your hands works denki’s cock while the other shakily flips through an encyclopedia of germs and the like; hanta’s buried to the hilt inside of you, tan cheeks flushed with exertion.

“can’t you just read after?” denki unhelpfully suggests, blinking back a few tears while sparks of electricity fly off from his blond hair. “let’s just fix—yeah, baby, jus’ like that—fix the problem now and figure it out later.”

“shut it, denks,” hanta rolls his eyes, rocking his hips into you. despite the fact that the three of you are totally naked and in the middle of some kind of threesome, you’re researching what apparently caused this surge of uncontrollable arousal.

things began not long after you arrived in the village, where everything had looked unsuspecting and normal. surely there was a villain lurking around somewhere . . ? why else would there be so much unusual activity, enough to alert the authorities?

“look, they f-found something similar in america,” hanta’s voice wavers uncharacteristically, his own high racing through him with such intensity he doubles over.

“forget about the book,” denki’s begging while pressing dazed kisses to your tits, one hand tossing the book aside and slipping between your trembling thighs. “c’mon, babe. show us what you look like when you cum.”

perhaps this is something to be selfish about — when will an opportunity to fuck your hot coworkers come around again? hanta’s everything you’ve been daydreaming about, with a muscular physique sharp enough to have been cut from stone. denki’s just as attractive, though his features are softer, the result of his constant snacking while on the job or in the agency.

hanta nods in assent, already trailing over the edge. “want you to gush all over me, baby.”

thrashing under denki’s fingers, it momentarily occurs to you that maybe they’re a little too experienced. neither of them were concerned with a threesome when it was suggested, and there’s no mistakes in their almost synchronized movements.

just watching your eyes flutter and roll back is enough to make denki cum with a moan of your name as his cock sprays white. hanta’s pupils probably dilate a hundred times their size at the erotic sight, and his hips begin to stutter as heat races up his spine.

denki, shaking profusely, musters his voice and maintains his hurried pace. “g-good girl, go on ‘n let it out.”

since stepping foot into the village and inhaling that damn pollen, the pro hero’s been getting realistic flashes of thoughts he’s kept locked away for some time. you, on your knees, looking up at him like you’re ready to do more than just please. you, with your pretty eyes full of tears as you lose your mind beneath him.

an orgasm stronger than the lustful effects of any aphrodisiac tears through you, and your cunt bears down so hard it forces out hanta’s own high as well. with all his might, he tries to resist the surge of weakness that hits him and fails—he collapses on top of you, hugging you closely and burying his face in your neck.

loosely, your jaw hangs open and breathy gasps leave your mouth. denki’s sparking with electricity beside you and simultaneously struggling to get it under control. a single yellow spark flies off his body and mildly electrocutes hanta, snapping him back to reality. he jerks against you, sounding exhausted.

“uh. so, um, what’re we supposed to report when we get back?”

TAKAMI KEIGO.

⟡ bless his heart. for valentine’s, he decides to be a silk heart-shaped box of japan’s most expensive chocolate for you. he’d been so focused on finding your favorite flavors along with new ones that he didn’t even realize that he’d purchased sex chocolate.

“it hurts, dovey. it’s s-so painful.”

since sharing the box of chocolates with you, keigo’s been reduced to a pathetic mess who can’t seem to stop shaking when you just barely touch him. vermilion feathers puff up and out at his back, his messy wings conveying the way he’s crumbling inside.

you’re just as hot, skin crawling with a lustful itch only keigo can scratch for you. the frenetic beating of his wings whips up cold gusts of wind stronger than any ceiling fan, and not a single goosebump rises on your skin.

“right there, kei,” you moan, tears gathering in your eyes as he continuously hits your sweet spot. “oh my god, don’t stop.”

as if he’d ever plan to.

he hiccups, face flushed and hair tousled like he’s just returned from some mission out in the wild. softly, with the barest note of urgency, keigo whines out your name and a request.

“dovey, c’mon,” his voice cracks halfway through his sentence, shattered with unmistakable pleasure. “just tell me what you want, and i’ll, ah, i’ll fuckin’ give it to you.”

keigo’s entire body thrums with the need, the purpose, to please you, and his own pleasure hinges on you and your praise. sure enough, you cry out to him, words saccharine and addicting.

“make me cum, kei,” and he doesn’t need any further instruction, not when he knows your body this well. smooth fingers slip between your thighs and work your clit, causing your back to arch when he applies just enough pressure to send electricity through your nerves.

you’re wrapping around keigo’s waist, drawing him in and breaking down his self control easily.

“want me to fill up this pussy, baby? i can do it again and again—” he punctuates his words with harsh thrusts that amplify the clap of skin against skin almost as much as a quirk could, “while you take it like you were made to.”

quaking beneath him, you nod frantically, as if those are the words you’ve been waiting to hear. while he was so vividly illustrating the scene, his wings unconsciously began to wrap around your bodies, a sign of how much he wants it too.

you gasp, eyes squeezing shut with the last image being keigo’s face, twisted in ecstasy and scrunched with concentration. “gonna—‘m gonna cum, kei!”

“with me, dovey, please,” sweat pours down the sides of his face as the heated bliss tightens in his gut, applying an unbearable pressure to his cock. “let me feel you cum around me, ughhh.”

sloppily, keigo presses open mouthed kisses to your lips, and a delighted moan escapes him when you kiss back. your lips are soft against his, and your tongue carries the sweet taste of valentine’s chocolates, the expensive ones he’d come home with earlier.

with his orgasm creeping up on him and dulling his surroundings, a brief thought occurs to him about those chocolates. the sales lady had raised a brow when he filled up the customizable box with many pink chocolates that had been sitting in a case separate from the rest.. no, that can’t be right. surely this is the common valentine’s day effect on couples—it can’t be from the chocolate, can it?

[aly4khq]

when pussyeater!caleb w a stubble comes to play:

"Please...caleb please! No moree!—"

Your voice was slowly going, tired from screaming and moaning from the overwhelming pleasure that Caleb's tongue was giving you. Your hands bound by a heavy, invisible force, up above your head, your fist scratching against the wall behind you.

Meanwhile, Caleb's mouth was coated in the results your multiple orgasms, his stubble scratching agaisnt your pussy properly. Now if there was anything that Caleb loved to eat, it was you. He was the chef of the house, and you always ate what he made with no refusal, complimenting his work.

He can make lasagna, xiàolongbao, 5 star meals. And you help him sometimes, baking and cooking. Yet his favourite meal is something you make in between your legs. The scent too strong for him to ignore whenever you two ever get in bed, his hands grasping at your thighs.

A dildo, his mouth, his fingers, his dick—no matter what it is, Caleb has to have a one-on-one moment with your pussy. And if you struggle? No problem, he'll tie you up, use his own hands or his evol. Just how it is now.

"One—" he said in between kisses, "—more..." Caleb sucking on your pussy, his tongue swirling around your hole. His lips making out with your soaked folds, you could feel his beard rubbing agaisnt you, making the sensation even more sensitive than it is. Caleb continued to latch onto your cunt, slurping up your juices and moaning into your cunt. His eyebrows furrowed as he savours his dinner, eyes shut in ecstasy.

He realised himself with a small pop! panting, his hands molding your thighs like they were play dough.

'Oh gosh, it's too much to handle, his tongue was too much, his hands, his stupid beard!— every fucking thing was too much! A break— please just one break—'

"Hey hey," With a small swat to your hip, he looked at you from his knees. "There you are. You okay baby? Zoned out on me for a little." Caleb readjusted his position, sitting up straight. With a slurred voice, you replied, humming, "...m'okay...i'm done, i don't have anymore for your–needy mouth.."

Caleb's eyebrow rose, his head tilting as he pretending to think deeply, "Hm..."

You looked down, noticing his hand creeping back down to your thighs, pulling you up the chair so you're not uncomfortable. "How about...we make a deal?"

"...Calebbb..."

"It's not that bad, just oneeee more. Please? I'll be gentle, you can do it pop-squeak, i believe in you." He kissed your inner thigh, gently rubbing your skin with his thumbs.

"That's unfair..." A pout appeared on our lips as you felt that heavy force finally release your hands. Caleb holding your arms as he massages any sort of ache that you might have. "Okay, how about I'll make you anything you want baby if you let me finish my own meal. Deal?"

With a reluctant gaze, you nodded, "Deal..."

That was the best, worst and last deal you ever made with Caleb.

a/n: just a little thing i thought of when eating dinner today

don't steal @aly4khq's work

date made: 21/02/25

[vivian-devoid]

I'mma just save this for later

This is a little head cannon/What if Macaque had more original powers, a little more Starry Night dreamlike powers leaning into the more nurturing kind, you know, the moon and sun kind of powers? 🌙☀️

 

Maybe in the past, he was like a therapy friend to Wukong, someone he could really be himself with, vent, and tell his secrets without being judged in the safety of his own dreams. Someone he can truly trust, and that was Macaque.

Skip to Redemption Ark for Mac

Now he's a therapy friend to the whole MK team! (Against his will) They cuddle, pet, and vent to him with their problems. He's like one of Sandy's therapy cats, just bigger and grumpier.😾💕✨ he just has this way with people I guess

Okay, this is how it starts: Macaque and Wukong's first encounter was in a dream.

Wukong would not shut up about the pretty demon in his crazy dreams, often to his sworn brothers; he talked about all the fun and crazy adventures he'd have, the long meaningful conversations and jokes, and the occasionally moving pictures of otherworldly strong magical humans with sparkly eyes and spiky hair who wield giant weapons that shoots Fire called anime, and that this had been going on for a few months now.

This annoyed and concerned them; they think it's a demon trying to take over the Monkey King's mind or trying to brainwash him somehow, so Azure Lion and the Sworn Brothers all brainstormed together to devise a plan to somehow confront this tricky dream demon. Wukong doesn't want the fun dreams to end or scare off this other celestial monkey, so he decides to talk to his friend in his dreams. Wukong casually brings up the idea that the macaque should visit Flower Fruit and meet his sworn brothers! Macaque of course hesitates, not sure of the idea of traveling to an unknown island and meeting The Monkey King's questionable choice of sworn brothers, but of course, Wukong, sad and a bit offended, but he doesn't give up.

He decides to bring upon the Ultimate Weapon, begging and whining until Macaque crumbles and gives in, which eventually does. Mac reluctantly agrees to travel over to FFM in disguise, just to be safe he tells Wukong he'll be there. Within a month, Wukong couldn't be more excited; he was like a little kid waiting for Christmas day!

So this is what kinds of powers I think he should have.

😴 the first pic is crossing over to other people's dreams and making their experience life-like he has illusion magic so this makes sense to me. Wukong and macaque would prank the Brotherhood or play tags and hide and seek in their brother's dreams. 🌸The second pic is the soothing ability to calm one's nerves if they pet or cuddle him like a therapy cat,🐈 Wukong would groom him for hours to calm his nerves. now come copes with food🍑🍔🍭

🌸🎶I saved the best one for last the cute/sad little head Cannon I have

At the end of every dream Mac visits they would end it by dancing to music Mac would bring from the future laughing and stumbling while wukong slowly wakes up, wukong has always gone to bed early But now he goes even earlier to bed. Wukong always thought he was the luckiest monkey in the world he gets to have two Adventure and one of them is with his prettiest best friend Macaque 😚✨the monkey of his dreams.

🌸 Wukong couldn't truly dream of a world without his bestest friend🥰✨

[lemonlover1110]

𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄, 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀!

Sylus

Pairing: Sylus x f!Reader

Summary: You leave a memento for Sylus before your business trip

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! Smut, Oral Sex (m. receiving), FILMING (aka they make a sex tape), Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Cockwarming, Nipple Play, Praising

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

Sylus gets pouty when he realizes you’ll be gone for a week. He doesn’t know how he ever survived without you. The thought almost seems impractical now. 

The issue with Sylus is that you notice he’s upset, but nobody else does. Sylus successfully manages to suppress any and all of his feelings. To everyone else he looks normal, but you notice that something is off with him. His lips are slightly pursed together instead of being in their typical straight line. His eyebrows are more together than usual, and you can’t help but notice how he subtly wrinkles his nose when you mention that you’ll be gone for a week.

He’s upset, but every time that you mention it Sylus completely denies it. He typically laughs, as if you’ve told some sort of joke when you’ve simply pointed out your observations. He keeps up the facade that he’s a big and strong man that won’t get upset by his girlfriend leaving him; even if it’s with you. You won’t push the matter though, if he claims that he isn’t upset then he’s not upset.

“Is everything packed?” Sylus asks, staring at the pink bag that contains all of your stuff for the week. Sure, it’s big but not enough for a week’s worth of clothes and necessities. It surprises him when you nod. “Sweetie, I know you aren’t low maintenance…”

“You act like I’ll be gone for a month. It’s just a week, and I’ll mostly be in uniform.” You respond, and you watch as his face contorts. He’s upset. Your eye could twitch at his reaction– It’s not that you’re mad that he’s upset, you’re mad because he denies it. No matter what you say he’ll deny it.

“Right, it’s just a week.” He answers. Comforting yet distressful words. 

“But maybe you’re right, in case I need to stay for longer I should pack–” You begin but before you can even finish the thought, the man cuts you off.

“Why would you need to stay for longer?” His words almost come out jumbled from how fast he speaks. He notices how he acts and corrects his speech, “Doesn’t the association have other hunters? Why would they exclusively force you to stay?”

“I’m important at my job, Sylus.” You point out, getting pouty yourself. However, you should be happy. You can see the distress in his eyes by the mere suggestion that you might have to stay for longer. “And since you won’t miss me around, I might just stay longer.”

“You’re more than welcome to.” He crosses his arms, not willing to let you win in this petty game that you have suddenly created. 

“Fine.” You frown, grabbing your bag from the bedroom and heading toward the door.

“Where are you going?” He questions as you begin to walk away.

“I’m sleeping in the guest room.” You announce, and you watch as he clenches his jaw; yet, he won’t say a thing. He nods. He’ll let you have your way.

You expect Sylus to be in your room within thirty minutes, but he’s nowhere to be seen. You know him enough to know that he’ll show up to your room eventually, you’re just not sure that you’ll be awake for when that happens. Your eyes are getting heavy, before you know it, you’ll be asleep.

Luckily, at thirty-one minutes, you feel a heavy weight settle in beside you. He’ll continue to deny that he’s upset. But he doesn’t have to admit that he’s upset for you to know– What difference will it make if he admits it?

“Are you asleep?” He whispers as his arm goes over your body, bringing you closer to him. You hum in response, quickly followed by a giggle from you. “Does that mean you don’t want to talk?”

“Will you admit that you’ll miss me?” You ask him as you feel his cold hand going under your shirt, looking for warmth. You nearly squeal at the cold hands, but you’re used to them. He nuzzles his nose into your neck, answering your question in the most unusual manner.

“Who’s going to warm me up?” He responds.

“Mephisto.” You joke, but he can’t find any humor in your words. He’s serious, yet you’re laughing.

“And who’ll keep me company?” He continues while your hand caresses his arm. He’s letting himself be soft, a pleasure that only you get to witness. He’d call it his weak side, but you think it’s his finest trait.

“I’m only one call away.” You remind him, but you understand that it’s not the same. You take his hand out of your shirt and turn on your side to look at him. He’s looking down at you with soft eyes, completely filled with worry.

“I want to see your face.” He says, and your hand goes to his cheek, pinching it. 

“Your phone has a camera, silly. You’re always calling me on facetime.” He’s finding issues with anything and everything, all which has a solution. Your lips land on the tip of his nose before you ask, “Is it because you’re going to miss my kisses and undivided attention?”

He stays quiet, and you peck his lips. You kiss him over and over again. You’ll do it until he asks you to stop, but Sylus is never going to stop you. As long as you’re all over him, he’s happy. 

“Kiss your hand whenever you miss me.” Your thumb caresses his cheek, and he looks at you with adoring eyes. You press your forehead against his, while his arm brings you closer to him.

“What if I’m missing more than just your kisses?” He asks, and your brows perk up. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what he’s insinuating, but you choose to act stupid. You want to hear the exact words.

“Hmm… What do you mean?” You sit up, batting your eyelashes at him. A smirk comes to his lips, noting the mischief in your eyes. You get on top of him, knees on either side of him while his hands go to your waist.

“You know exactly what I mean, kitten.” He responds, his hands going under your shirt once again– This time, they aren’t looking for warmth; they’re being naughty and trailing up your skin. “What will I do when I need more than your kisses?”

“You have the internet.” You remind him, reaching into his pocket to pull out his precious phone. You input the password, one that so perfectly matches with your birthday, and open the browser on his phone. Before you can begin typing, he snatches the phone from your hand.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Sylus’ eyes narrow as he stares at the tiny screen. You bite down your lip, suppressing a smirk. His eyes look back and forth between you and his phone.

“I was going to show you where you can go whenever you need a little bit more–” You begin, but he cuts you off. He’s almost offended that you were about to even suggest that.

“Why would I want to watch anyone that isn’t you, kitten?” He raises an eyebrow, and you feel your cheeks get warm at his comment. His hand goes under your chin, tilting your head to look directly down at him. “Do you understand my frustration?”

“It’s only a week.” Your words bring little to no comfort to him. 7 days. 168 hours. 10,080 minutes. 604,800 seconds. It’s not just a week. “What else can I do? It’s my job.”

“I told you that you can always quit– But since you don’t want to do that… Nothing.” He ends up sighing. You’d almost feel bad for Sylus, if he weren’t overreacting. You’ve lost count of the amount of times the amount suddenly disappeared for days on end.

“You’ll survive.” You tell him, as your eyes land on his phone. An idea comes to your mind, but you don’t have the guts to outright suggest it. You peck his lips before you whisper, “If you tell me you’ll miss me then I’ll do you a favor.”

“Which is?” He questions, and he watches your eyes land on his phone. He doesn’t need to be told twice, or in this case, not even once. He moves your hair out of the way and kisses your forehead, lips moving down to the tip of your nose and then your lips. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”

“Now you can admit it.” You joke, lips landing on his, more intensely than any kiss you’ve shared tonight. His breathing gets heavy, body temperature suddenly rising as he feels your lips on yours. The moment an opening comes to you, your tongue enters his mouth and presses against his own. 

His hands roam through your body, going under your shirt and landing on your tits. Fingers circle and lightly pinch your nipples while his teeth bite down your bottom lip before pulling away. Sylus can’t properly enjoy himself before you push his hands away from your breasts,

You grab his phone, opening the camera and beginning the video, before forcing him to take it. You smile at the camera before your hands lift up your shirt, putting on a show for the screen. Sylus’ free hand can’t help itself, quickly fondling your chest.

“Make sure you get my good angle.” You adjust the camera before your body moves down. You begin to kiss his lower abdomen, moving down until his briefs stop you. Your finger hooks under the waist band, pulling down and freeing his cock from its restraints. 

Your hand wraps around the base of his cock, giving it a couple of strokes before you spit on it. Your head moves down, tongue circling the tip of his dick, earning a groan from him. He tries to keep the phone still, not wanting to look back at the footage and watch blurry footage, but it’s hard to keep still when he’s so sensitive. 

Eyes look up at him as your mouth wraps around his length, taking in as much as you can. You slowly bob your head, each movement earning a sound from the man. You’re putting on a show for him– Making a memorable video for him. It’ll be his most prized possession, yet the most confidential.

“Good job.” He praises, almost out of breath as your mouth gags on his cock. Tears well up in your eyes, his dick too much for you to handle. You’re trying to outdo yourself for the audience, taking all of him while you know that you can’t.

“You’re such a good girl.” He tells you while you take your mouth off his cock, spit coating your chin as you gasp for air. 

“Is it good, baby? Will you be thinking of this while I’m gone?” Your eyes are focused on the camera, not even bothering on looking at your boyfriend. Sylus would complain, if his eyes weren’t rolling to the back of his head. Your lips kiss the tip before your tongue circles around his cock again.

His voice gets louder as your mouth sets just the right pace. His breath gets caught up in his chest, slowly losing control. Your hand massages his balls as you watch Sylus’ face contort with pleasure.

Sylus moans your name as his cum hits the back of your throat. He groans as he empties himself inside your mouth. You take your mouth off his cock, making sure to swallow every last drop of his cum and sticking your tongue out so the camera can see how much of a good girl you are.

“Good girl, making sure to not waste a single drop.” Sylus says, his hand going down to your mouth and wiping the corner of your mouth. Your face goes up, lips landing on his own, which he happily receives. When he pulls away, he reminds you, “You have to complete the show, kitten.”

“Put the phone on the nightstand.” You tell him, and while he tries to find the perfect position, you take off your pants. His hands get shaky, desperate to continue. It’s the last time he’ll see you like this for a week, and he’ll make sure to enjoy every single minute. 

“Fuck– Fuck!” He curses as the phone falls, something that he’ll have to edit out of the video– Is he seriously thinking about editing his sex tape? He can simply fast forward, but that’ll just ruin his mood.

“Will you hurry?” You whine, getting desperate to feel him inside of you. You can’t wait for him to find the perfect position. Just as he settles the phone down perfectly, you push your panties to the side. You align his cock with your entrance, and slowly settle down on his length. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his cock fills you up.

“Fuck…” He mutters, out of breath as he feels your cunt wrap around him. As much as he loves your mouth, it truly can’t compare. Oh, he could cry knowing that he’ll only have his hand for a week. He’ll make do with what you’ve given him.

“Oh, fuck.” You moan, adjusting to his dick before you begin to move. You’re bouncing on his cock, setting a slow pace. His hands grip your ass while he lifts his face to bury it between your tits. He’ll make sure to enjoy his last few moments with you; it’s why you call him overdramatic, he acts as if he’ll never see you again. Though, right now you can’t complain about the way he acts. His tongue licks your cleavage before his mouth successfully latches onto your nipple.

Sylus moves his hips, moving much faster than you. You meet him half way, moans getting louder as his cock hits every right spot. Maybe you’re putting on such a show because you want the video yourself, you’ll definitely need it. You grab a fistful of his hair, pulling his head back which causes him to bite down before pulling away. The pain adds to the pleasure.

“You’re doing such a good job.” You talk to him as if he were a pathetic little pet. A tone of voice which he hates to admit he enjoys. “Are you my good boy, Sylus?”

“Yes.” He admits, sex brain getting the best of him– No, it’s something that he’d admit at any other time with you… Not with people around, but regardless, he’d admit it. “I’m your good boy, kitten.”

You smile, eyes darting directly at the tiny camera that captures the moment. Surely, he’ll deny that he ever said those words but luckily, you have an audience this time around.

“You feel so good.” He tells you, one hand going down to play with your clit. Your breath hitches, your hands wrapping to the back of his neck as your lips land on his. He’s met with pure carnal desire, a side of you that he rarely comes across with. A side that he thoroughly enjoys. 

“I’m gonna– Fuck–” You begin as you pull away, but you can’t finish your sentence. You begin to tighten around him, your orgasm rapidly approaching and taking over you. 

“Come all over me, sweetheart.” His eyes look down at his cock, watching as your pussy wraps around it. A sight that he’ll be thinking about for 604,800 seconds. His phone will do no justice. 

“Sylus– It’s so fucking good!” You’re practically screaming, surely making a spectacle of yourself. You’d make a great actress, that’s for sure. You throw your head back, mouth falling agape as pleasure consumes you.

“Good job, kitten. Good job.” He praises you as your orgasm consumes you and you make a mess all over him. He can’t help but grab the phone and practically show off to where your two bodies meet. It’s a sight that he never wants to forget about.

“Look at you, you made such a mess.” He clicks his tongue, but it’s a mess that he appreciates, especially with how your pussy feels around him. Your lips meet once again, while his thrusts become unregulated. 

“I’m gonna come inside you, okay?” He tells you, making you frantically nod in response. Before you know it, Sylus’ seed coats your insides. The man is unwilling to pull out until he makes sure that every last drop of his cum is inside of you– Though that’s hard as it drips out of your cunt and coats his cock. 

Sylus makes sure to get one last frame of your pussy, before panning the camera to your face. You smile at the camera, winking before you kiss the lens. That’s when Sylus decides to end the perfect video. 

“Is that enough for you?” You ask as you try to lift yourself up from his cock, but his hands hold you down.

“Let’s stay like this for a bit.” You swear you see a pout on his lips once again. He doesn’t want to let you go just yet.

“Fine.” You agree as his lips peck yours ever-so-lovingly.

“I’ll miss you.” He finally admits, and you smile before kissing him again. You had imagined the revelation to be more romantic… But this will make do.

“I love you, Sylus.”

“I love you too.”

[lalunanymph]

CAUGHT

☆° syp: caleb catches you jerking off and decides to try something new with you

☆° tw: caleb x fem!reader, masturbating, watching p0rn, suspension, improper use of evol, dom!caleb, unprotected sex, bondage, dirty talk, possessiveness, silly banter, kinda crack-ish at the end, brat taming-ish, 1.8k+ words

☆° dawn says: caleb's secret times affinity 85 has got me feeling some kinda way so i locked in for two hours and wrote this (shame)

Skyhaven is chilly, but under the sheets of your shared bed with Caleb, you’re sweating your ass off. 

It’s not like you to typically be this… well, desperate, but hey—ovulation week can tank even the most disciplined of girls. And you, for sure, aren’t the strongest when it comes to fighting back these primal urges. 

Your fingers make quick work under the bands of your sleep pants, and you’re huffing, panting as your eyes lock onto your phone screen, drinking in the sight of a woman passionately getting eaten out by her Dominant as she’s dangling from the ceiling in shibari. Look—not to yuck anyone’s yum, but you sure as hell didn’t think you’d find something like this hot. 

Caleb and you were still… finding your intimacy footing. He’s gentle and sweet in bed, always paying attention to your needs. He wouldn’t even come unless you were close, constantly edging himself so you two could fall down the precipice together.

Warm and kind, you could never envision him doing something like this to you. 

The woman moans through your wireless earbuds, her hair cascading in magnificent waves. Her Dom grunts, a mess between her thighs, his chin and cheeks slick with her juices. You can tell from how her belly is constricting rapidly that she’s close, and your body surges in a feverish pitch, trying to find your own peak.

When, suddenly, the blanket is yanked off your body and you’re looking right into the wide eyes of your boyfriend. 

Caleb stands, frozen, still in his Colonel uniform. He’s had a hard day—you can tell. He looks deprived of a few hours of sleep, and his shoulders are rigid.

But, the second he fixes his gaze on you, his jaw goes slack. In awe.

You quickly yank your hand out of your pants and remove your earbuds. But, this damn technology had it out for you. The second your wireless connection is disconnected, moans and slurps fill the awkward space between you and Caleb—definitely blowing your cover.

“Crap!” 

With a squeak, you hasten to switch off your phone, mortification washing over you in waves. You scramble to sit up, and as if you hadn’t been edging yourself to an explosive orgasm, you nervously chuckle, unaware of how Caleb’s eyes have darkened. 

“Pipsqueak…” His voice is low, fringed with curious suspicion. “What was that?” 

Before you can change the subject and claim that it’s nothing, the pull of gravity flicks your phone off the bed and into his hand. He knows your password by heart, like how you know his, and when the screen flickers to life, he huffs under his breath.

“So… this is what my naughty little girl gets up to when I’m not home, huh.”

His words send an unexpected thrill down your spine, but you’re too horrified to say anything else, your cheeks leeched off color. 

You stutter, “It’s not what you think—” But, he cuts you off, shaking his head. 

“Boo. Wrong. Means I’m not treating you right,” he chuckles, and tosses the phone back to you. “But, y’know what, I’ve always liked a little challenge, so maybe it’s time we took things… to another level.”

Curlicues of heat shiver down your body, and you throb hotly between your thighs. Stubbornness, however, would be your downfall when you scoff and try to play off the intensity building you two. “Caleb, you big dummy—I told you it was nothing—”

He grips your jaw, gently tilting your face up to meet his. 

For the past few minutes, you’ve been resolutely avoiding his gaze, afraid of what you might find there. But, when you tentatively slide your eyes to meet him, you’re not greeted by contempt or disgust as you originally thought. 

Caleb’s looking down at you with an inexplicable heat in his gaze. There’s a slight tremble in his fingers, though his expression remains deceptively calm. 

“Princess, come on.” His thumb strokes your lower lip. “When have I ever judged you, huh? I love you—” He sounds ardent. Sincere. “I love you and I would do anything you wanted. Anything at all.” 

A fissure of arousal snakes through your veins, lighting you up from head to toe. 

“... anything?” 

Caleb doesn’t hesitate to nod. “Anything.”

… 

Which is how you currently find yourself suspended in mid-air, at the mercy of his Evol. 

Caleb sticks true to the unholy scriptures found on your phone’s browser, on his knees, right between your thighs. 

He does that thing with his tongue you absolutely adore. You squirm in your gravitational bindings and he glances up at you, a glint in his eyes. Hoarsely, he rasps, “You’re so pretty, baby.”

His tongue digs back into your insides, and your warbling cry resounds throughout the room. Caleb’s not gonna stop—he’s gonna make sure the whole of Skyhaven hears you coming.

“Louder,” he growls, and he picks up the pace, slurpin’ down on your folds like it’s his last meal. Fast. Messy. He punctuates the rhythm of his laps with grunts of, “Pretty. So pretty.”

Your pliant body is for him to do as he pleases. Every touch. Every lick. Every caress. Caleb knows what he’s doing—how exactly to drive you wild. This feeling of power and control that comes down on him—it’s heady. 

Addictive.

You’re the sweetest addiction he can never get over. Your body, your sounds.

God, it drives him insane.

The sway of your hips as he bullies his tongue deep into the buttery heat of your arousal makes him grin, shark-like. 

“Enjoyin’ this, baby?” He pauses to whisper between laps. 

You’re unable to move in mid-air. The ends of your hair sway with every tremble of your body. You’re gasping, eyes-crossed, dumb on his tongue. He has your arms dangling at your sides, and maneuvers them over your head with his Evol to really hammer in your helplessness. 

“Pretty like a doll,” he groans, all lustful and thick. Drip, drip. The syrupy gloss of your juices saturate his tongue, and he moans at the taste, like honey and sunshine that comes straight from his favorite fountain. 

Oh, he has it down bad—

Caleb can’t think. Can’t focus past the ravenous hunger demolishing his composure, making him thirsty and hungry for only you. 

And, god do you taste divine. 

His Adam’s apple bulges down on a swallow as you feed him some of your squirt. “There ya go—” he growls, placing a quick smack! on your inner thigh. “Squirtin’ like the ripest peach f’me. Pretty little peach. My pretty—” he rolls his tongue over your folds, swirling it like a madman hellbent on pushing you down the last cliff of your sanity. “—pretty lil’ princess.” 

“Caleb!” Your meek cry doesn’t stop him.

“Nuh-uh,” he moans into the thick of your treacly folds, all swollen and puffy now from his ministrations. “S’not a safe word, baby.” 

You want to hold him. Pull his stupid face up and kiss him senseless.

But, he’s got all the ropes now. You’re just a puppet caught in his web. 

A marionette he can’t wait to fuck straight until she can’t walk.

“Did’cha think I would let you go after that lil’ stunt you pulled, princess?” His leering smirk disappears back between your thighs, the edges of his teeth grazing your trembling, defenseless clit. “Touchin’ yourself like I don’t please you every night—you wound me, baby.”

The raw possessiveness of it all makes you clench down on his devious tongue. Caleb is out for blood, and he won’t stop until he milks you dry. 

He slurs his stake right into the heart of your cunt, lapping at the pearly drops of pleasure oozing right down to the ground. “Anythin’ you want, I’d do it for you. Fuck you on the moon if you want.”

“Caleb—” you whine. 

You’re close—trembling violently. “Caleb, please—inside,” you gurgle. “Inside me, please!” 

He answers your prayers in a split second, cock pushing through your tight heat, up and down, up and down, stroking, thrusting…

He’s as keyed up as you are. The sloppy plap plap plaps of your bodies meeting together makes his pride soar and his balls clench. Caleb digs his fingers into your hips, watching your body undulate in thin air—like a ship rocked apart by a storm with only his cock as an anchor. 

The silver glint of his dog tag slams back onto his chest repeatedly. His abs are coated with a light layer of sweat and exertion. He’s sprinting you to the finish line, both of you keyed up beyond belief—he needs to see you shattering all over him like the finest China falling to the ground. 

“God, you look so good like this,” he licks his lips, dragging his tongue over a spot of pussy juice he missed, moaning when he tastes you again. “Hair all flowin’, body all taut. Imagine if I had you in ropes, baby,” he grunts, gunning for the sweet ending, digging the balls of his feet into the hardwood floor for maximum thrusting. “You’d be—hngnn—under my control.” 

His words snap the fragile crisp of self-control you’re holding onto. 

You come for him, loud and wholeheartedly, and the gusto makes his heart soar, his cock throb—

Warm spurts fill you to the brim, and your shackled-to-the-air legs tremble, your body trembling in zero gravity.

Caleb gnashes his teeth and whines like a mad dog coming down from his high, using the last of his strength to catch you as you both go tumbling to the floor like Lego pieces. 

For a second, the room swims in a pure haze of white light. You can’t feel your feet, or your hands. 

Shit—he’s fucked the soul out of you. 

But, in the ringing silence, you feel his hand gently cradle your head to his chest, and the wayward seed is back on her beloved apple tree. 

Caleb caresses your head, gently leaving kisses on your temple, cheeks, chin. Anywhere his mouth can reach. 

After a moment of silence, you reach for your phone and he raises a brow.

“Seriously? You’re not gonna make a Moments post right now, are ya, Pipsqueak?” 

You flop onto his chest, and rather than being tuckered out like he hoped you would be, you kick your feet up, giggling as you scroll through your phone. “Noooo. Got something else better in mind.” 

He nuzzles his face into your hair, breathing in the scent of your custom-made shampoo you once DIY-ed with him at a fragrance fair. Your excitement re-sparks the flames again, and he chuckles when you excitedly show him your phone screen—showing off a new position where the bepenised specimen has his unimportant half lying down the side of the bed while his female counterpart hops up and down his more important half.

It looks easy enough, and Caleb is surprisingly limber for his size. 

“Supernova, huh?” He squints at the screen, looking deep in thought. “I guess it’s doable—”

You shake your head, tossing him a grin brimming with mischief.

“Oh. I’m not done yet.” You swipe the screen, and it’s an even more complicated position. He inwardly tries not to break. Caleb has indirectly created an insatiable monster.

“Have you ever tried this one~?” 

♡ feedback and reblogs are appreciated

© all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, claim as your own or feed my works into AI.

[bunny-jpeg]

john price would trap you with a baby. no questions asked. he knew the years were catching up to him. he knew that wouldn't be much longer before he couldn't pass on the price genes.

he felt bad when he masturbated, felt like he was wasting his boys. spurts of hot cum down his large shaft wishing that it was inside a pretty little things smaller cunt. his hand was too rough even with lubrication. he needed something with supple flesh that he could sink his teeth into and a wet pussy to stuff full. he wanted to feel himself impregnating someone.

that was where you came in.

you felt amazing, sex with you was something else. the way you were like a bunny when you rode his cock. you bounced on him, not slowing down until he wrung at least three orgasms out of you. he found it endearing that you could take him. and while cowgirl was fun and missionary felt classic.

if price wanted to get you pregnant then, he knew that doggy style would be the best course of action. sadly, that position was a little more difficult given your size difference. price the bear and his little cub, those weren't just terms of endearment. he was burly, hairy, but you were so much shorter that he couldn't easily slip into you. but things could always be modified.

he smothered you under him as you laid on the bed with your legs spread and price was on top of you with his cock invading your slick entrance. the feeling was different and the weight on top of you only added to the pleasure.

his mind was focused, as he worked himself into you. he slid in easily, little resistance from you. your pussy was greedy for him, not that price could blame you. you were just so perfect for him. he shaped you into the perfect thing for him. you were his angel, the sweetest fruit, the woman he wanted to carry his child. if you liked it or not.

thoughts of you dark puffy nipples, the waddle in your step, the complaints of back pain. how your body changed because of him, he marked you in a way that no other man could. price boys grew strong and were a handful both in the womb and out. hungry boys too, but price would happily massage your fat tits to make sure there was more than enough milk for his boys. might have a little taste himself, see what all the fuss was. the heavy milk on his tongue as he fucked his pretty wife.

no need to go out and find a job. price's got enough to make sure that your wallet and your womb were packed full. no need to worry your little head, just make sure the babies are taken care of and price will do all the thinking in the relationship. he knew your dream was to see your diploma on the wall, but he thought that a family photo would be much better.

hard to complete your degree when your pregnant belly doesn't fit in the lecture hall seat or it was feeding time for john jr. there was nowhere for you to nurse his hefty son and you'd in the end miss too much class because price would be keeping you at home to start on the next one.

"that's it, doll. that's my girl. she suckin' me right in. she know what she wants and she's takin' it. made just for, huh, petal?" he growled as he pressed into you further, his cock didn't slip out. he fucked you feverishly.

he felt you tremble as you came not once, but twice, back to back. price continued to fuck you, ruin your pretty little folds and let him feel as much as he could of your sweet sex. you felt amazing, only pussy price would want. he fucked you roughly with his hands pressed into the covers on either side of your head. you were too blissed out by the time he finished inside of you that you didn't even ask for him to pull out.

a good wife took every drop.

he soon after pulled his cock out, the sight of his cum sticking to your slick pussy lips with most of his seed inside of you. made his cock peek at attention once more. "there she is." he purred, "messy girl." he tipped your hips up and held them in his large hands. he dipped between your legs and played with your pussy. something to distract you while his cum slid into the back of your pussy.

now be good, and get pregnant <3

a/n: i don't know what came over me... i'm sorry

[gomtangii]

oh my my my!

caleb x fem!reader wc: 1.027k (the nctzen in me is screaming) cw: caleb is insane, cunnilingus, pet names (princess, pipsqeuak), caleb has endless stamina again, fat cock caleb, cock-drunk reader, mating press, slight breeding kink, p in v penetration, unprotected sex, unrealistic sex lol, i did not mean to write this much actually, not edited!

TIME: 11:12 PM LOCATION: SKYHAVEN, CALEB'S APARTMENT: LIVING ROOM

...what did he say? all you did was confront caleb about why the two of you haven't had sex yet, but what did he just say?

"my... penis... is too big." he mutters shyly, a blush spread across his cheeks and ears paired with an expression you've never seen on his face before. you stare at him, mouth agape. you take a moment to to process what he said before stifling a laugh, making caleb frown even more.

"that's it?"

"i'm being serious! i don't want to hurt you."

you smile at him with a sigh, a bit relieved that was his answer. you place a kiss on his cheek that he grumpily accepts, pulling you close to him.

"sounds like you're just going to have to do a better job at prepping me then," you smirk, a hint of mirth in your voice. the look in his eye changes, arousal pooling in his irises.

"is that a challenge, pipsqueak?" he cocks an eyebrow, pulling you closer to him by the waist, "i'm just not sure if you can handle it."

"is that a challenge?" you glare at him, suddenly feeling yourself get competitive too. it's not like you were going to lose, right?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

TIME: 1:39 AM LOCATION: SKYHAVEN, CALEB'S APARTMENT: YOUR BEDROOM

you were, however, indeed losing.

you blink past the stars that caleb was making you see. it's been about 2 hours since he started eating you out, his licks and bites relentless. he gives one last harsh suck to your clit before pulling away, looking at the art he's created.

you're shaking, your pussy became puffy thanks to his ministrations, and there are countless bites and marks around your thighs.

"looks like you bit off more than you could chew, hm? princess?" he kisses your temple, caressing your hair and arms to calm you down from your nth orgasm.

"can... still take more..." you mumble, gripping onto his shirt, frustrated that he's still clothed while you were stripped naked. you feels his hands drag against your arms, your abdomen, before reaching just above your mound.

"you sure? we still got a bit more before you can actually fit me." he warns, his fingers dangerously close to your entrance. you nod, but he ignores it. "words, baby, need you to say it out loud for me."

"mm—" you moan, feeling his fingers graze your clit, "i... i can take it! just fuck me already!"

he plunges two fingers into you and you cum immediately, squirting onto his palm. his hands were big, you knew that, but they were reaching places you couldn't manage to touch yourself.

"fuck, you're so wet," he groans, sucking another mark onto your neck as he fucks his hand into you, "maybe i don't need to do this—maybe you can fit me like this."

he takes his fingers out and you whine, trying to pull him back in. he ignores you, using his other hand to hold both of your wrists above your head as he licks his essence off of his fingers, not wanting to waste a single drop.

he unbuckles his belt swiftly, letting his cock spring out, the tip angry and leaking with precum. it's drenched with its own cum because he couldn't hold back, your moans and whines were enough for him to climax without being touched—if only you knew the effect you had on him. he presses his cock against your entrance and you shudder at his size, suddenly unsure if you could really take it. you try to shy away, scooting your body away from him when he catches you, caging you in his arms as he pins you down.

"aw, don't tell me you're scared now?" he laughs, being uncharacteristically mean. he pushes the tip of his dick a bit further into you, slowly stretching you out with a groan.

"if you can't take it anymore, you just gotta say the word." you glare at him, yanking on his arm to pull his face closer to yours.

"i already said 'fuck me!'"

"as you wish," he smirks, "gotta give my girl what she wants, hm?"

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

TIME: 3:54 AM, YOU THINK. LOCATION: SKYHAVEN, YOU THINK. YOUR BEDROOM... YOU THINK.

you're on all fours, trying to get away from caleb as he pounds you mercilessly, his cum spilling out of your cunt and pooling onto the sheets. his cock is so, so big, you think you're cumming with every thrust, but you're not sure. you don't know how many times you've cum tonight, but you do know that he's made you pass out a few times.

"c-can't... can't..." you cry softly, the pleasure too much for your poor pussy to handle.

"say the word, then. then we'll be at 1 - 0." he taunts, "do you even remember the word, baby?"

you gulp down a sob, nodding while humming weakly as he slows down his thrusts to give you the chance to speak.

"i-i—" you stutter, your mind hazy with cock, "caleb—"

"my name isn't a safeword," he chuckles, "it's Linkon, okay?"

you nod and he smiles sweetly, kissing your forehead before tossing you onto your back, slowly pushing your thighs up and into a mating press.

"just a bit more," he kisses you again, starting up his thrusts once more, "just one more and then it'll be your win."

he resumes the pace he had before, the sound reverberating throughout the bedroom. it's almost animalistic, the marks and bites all over your body, the way your pussy can't even hold in his cum anymore—it's almost like he's trying to breed you, trying to make it stick. you cum weakly, squirting a bit as your eyes roll back. at this point, it's not just stars you're seeing, you can see the entire deepspace tunnel thanks to him. he feels the way your cunt convulses around him and he grunts, unable to stall any longer and he fills you up one last time. his cum floods your womb and spills out, only adding to the mess below you two.

"i guess it's 0 - 1 now. too bad i lost," he says with a smile.

oopsies... caleb u r my muse... also the safeword line has been all over my tl so i couldn't help but implement it! showed up at the perfect time :3

also i actually do not have any ideas on good safewords to use for the men... if yall wanna send some my way in my ask so i can use them in future fics !!!!!

[swytdoll]

YOU SO CRAZY. . I THINK I WANNA HAVE YOUR BABY!

toji never wanted kids. the thought of a snotty-nosed, full-grown sperm running around made him cringe. he always saw kids as messy, loud, and a constant source of chaos—like a tornado with a juice box. but now, as your walls grip him like a vice, he can’t help but think, “one can’t hurt, right?”

his large calloused hands grip your soft thighs, watching your plush flesh spill through his fingers, he can barely control himself. continuous deep groans spilling from his throat in pure pleasure, hips snapping into you at an unforgiving pace as he watches his thick length disappear into your warm pussy.

"g'na make you a mommy-fuckin-shit-take it, princess, fuckin take it. gonna pump you full of my kids —make sure you keep it all in and have a fuckin' daycare-god! you feel so fuckin good-so good for me-you wanna have my kids? you want me to knock you up, yeah? gonna cum inside you-gonna make sure it stays in there and makes you round and pretty. fuck, i love you, god, i love you so much, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuucckk—!!

he spills into you, painting your walls white, cum thick and heavy, toji fucking zenin fills you completely. his thrusts hard and deep, ensuring none of his precious seed slips out. you can only sob, the thought of having a child with your husband, of giving him a family, a legacy, is enough to send you into overdrive, you cum, gushing around his cock.

when the two of you are finished, he pulls out and immediately shoves his fingers into you, making sure his cum is kept safe inside your womb. his thick digits pump and swirl in your used hole, and when he removes them, his thumb swipes over your pulsating clit, lips curling into a grin as you squirm under him.

he leans down, kissing you gently, palm flat on your belly.

"i hope the brat is a boy."

[norikuna]

❛ lousy liquor, loose lips ── 𝓖𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

✶ 𝓬𝔀 ｡⠀五条悟 ㅤ&ㅤsfw ㅤ( 660 ) gojo is drunk and very much in love w/ you

"you're really so lucky that i like you," you're huffing, tightening your grip around gojo's firm waist, letting him sway against you as he's practically one drink away from belting out sea shanties in the quiet streets of tokyo, "i should have left you on the side of the road." the idiot's still half-laughing, half-stumbling down the empty corridor.

but now he's leaning heavier against you, a beefy arm draped lazily around your shoulders, and the scent of sake has mingled with his expensive cologne, "you like me?" echoing, but you can hear the teasing tone in his slurs.

"that's what you took from my words?" you adjust your hold, cursing under your breath, "you're six-foot-something of dead weight right now. focus on walking."

"not a fan," gojo grins, head lolling towards you so soft strands of white hair brush your cheek in soft, petal-light kisses. his blindfold is shoved up onto his forehead, exposing glassy, flushed skin and hazy blue eyes, "i can teleport, y'know. being the strongest and all that shit."

you yank his staff uniform collar, hard. pulling gojo back from running towards a stray cat and making ridiculous baby noises, rolling your eyes, "then, pray tell, why aren't you using it?"

"because," gojo stops walking entirely, making you stumble with the sudden halt, "i wanted to spend more time with you." gojo, being the grown man he is, has the audacity to top off his little sentence with a giggle and a teehee.

but you're doing your best to drown the frozen block of ice leaping into your throat. gojo's drunk, so very drunk and off his rocket, but you're not an idiot and you definitely don't miss the uncharacteristic softness painting his creamy cheeks awash in a pretty, berry shade of watercolour.

"satoru...," you're warning, doing your best to not buckle under the weight of the strongest sorcerer alive as he patters up the stairs.

but gojo's just smiling, slower this time, and more genuine, "you never call me that."

"because it makes you smug." you're reaching into his pockets, practically wrapped up against him as you fumble for his apartment keys. and he just lets you.

"i like it when you say my name," gojo's leaning in, forehead nearly pressed against yours, close enough that you can feel small puffs of hot air against your burning skin, "i like a lot of things 'bout you."

what a dangerous dilemma. drunk gojo was charming in a messy, unguarded way that left you defenceless, with a pounding, traitorous heart.

"you're going to regret saying all this tomorrow," you mutter, but your hands don't quite loosen up on him. yeah, you know that you like holding gojo satoru in your arms.

"or..." gojo's gentle grin widens, ocean-blue eyes wide as they search yours, "maybe i'll regret not saying all this sooner."

gojo's hand, so very calloused from battle wounds and bruises, are practically tracing hearts around your face. warm skin. brushing your cheek, thumb ghosting over your lower lip like he's going to kiss you.

and you want him to kiss you. so, rationally, what do you do next?

"well, yippee!" you yelp, pushing gojo's apartment door open so you can shove the ridiculously tall man in, "time for you to hit the hay, pal! talk to ya' tomorrow."

waving him off, ignoring his whines and whimpers as he's muttering to himself, tearing his blindfold off and chucking it on the pricey leather couch.

you just close the door abruptly in his face, gnawing at your inner cheek when you hear a sweet, crisp call from the other side of the wood, "i love you!" followed by a thump, most likely the sound of a grown, adult man crashing out on his couch — ready for a nasty hangover tomorrow morning.

[inknose]

#HE KNEW XIE LIAN NEEDED A PRINCE OF HIS OWN#AFTER PUTTING EVERYONE ELSE FIRST FOR CENTURIES#HE NEEDED A HOT SEME TO BE HIS SAVIOR FOR ONCE#hua cheng wanted to be someone gege could rely on and that meant being cool and suave and confident and THE BEST and HOT#he coulda gone back to wu ming deference mode#but after seeing xie lian almost get stabbed a million times again he realized submission was not what would save XL#UGHHHHHHH#HUA CHENG MAKES HIMSELF BIGGER SO THAT DIANXIA CAN LET HIMSELF BE SMALL(in a non-self-sacrificial way)#tgcf#hualian

I can‘t get over how confident, self-assured and almost cocky Hua Cheng can act in front of Xie Lian even though he‘s actually super nervous and insecure about the love of his life liking him back after waiting 800 years and building his entire life around the hope of finding Xie Lian and winning him over.

[wolfertinger666]

I don't talk about my plurality much anymore despite my system still existing cuz like, overtime I'm learning to cope and adapt + I'm around people who make me feel safe when away from big socials.

that said, I have moments where I kinda just go "fuck what happened I'm supposed to be fronting???" because I'll have moments where I do NOT feel attached to my body all confused.

another thing is plurality is extremely subtle in some aspects, other alters emotions and feelings bleed into mine, ugh it's a mess!

[urmum-lovesme]

Ok but toxic!dad!rafe where this don’t effect the children’s life but when it come to the mother of his kids he’s still very overprotective. I mean she is a MILF.

This is the best thing I've ever heard anon I hope both sides of your pillow are cold.

Toxic!Rafe as a dad?

Surprisingly present. 

His kid adores him, and in their eyes, he’s just their cool, protective father. He spoils them, takes them out on the yacht all the time, and he makes sure they have everything they could ever want. He told himself he would never be like Ward if he ever became a father, and he- for a change- was living up to his word.

But when it comes to their mom? That’s where the real problem is.

Because Rafe does not change when it comes to Y/N.

Y/N falling pregnant, certainly wasn't planned. It wasn’t supposed to happen. She was young, she had a future and more than anything, she wasn’t sure if she even wanted to stay with Rafe, let alone have a baby with him. She didn't tell Rafe right away. Not because she was hiding it, but because she knew- deep in her gut- that he wouldn’t react like a normal person. She needed time to think, to weigh her options, to figure out what she wanted before he got involved.

But Rafe found out anyway.

Y/N had been so incredibly careful, she didn't leave any trace of the positive pregnancy test in Tannyhill; but he just knew her too well, sensed that something was off when she stopped drinking.

“What?”

His voice was quiet at first, his brows furrowed, like he didn’t quite believe what he was hearing. But then the realisation hit. His blue eyes darkened, his jaw tightened, and he stepped closer, the room suddenly feeling too small. His voice was calm, but there was something dangerous underneath it.

“You were gonna tell me, right?”

“Rafe, I—I don’t know what I’m going to do yet—”

Wrong answer. His hand shot out, gripping her jaw, forcing her to look at him.

“The fuck do you mean, you don’t know?” His breath was hot against her face, his fingers digging into her skin.

“That’s my kid, Y/N.”

Her stomach churned, her heart hammering against her ribs.

“I just- Rafe, I need time to think—”

“No, you don’t.”

He cut her off, shaking his head like the idea itself was ridiculous, angrily running a hand through his messed up hair.

“You don’t need to think. It’s already decided.”

She tried to take a step back, but his grip tightened, his other hand settling on her waist, firmly keeping her closer to him.

“We’re having this baby.”

Her breath caught in her throat as the words passed his lips, tears stinging her eyes before she could stop the feeling.

“I don’t- Rafe, this is my choice—”

His fingers pressed harder, his face inches from hers.

“No, it’s ours.”

Even now when they have a child together, he still watches her like a hawk. Still gets unreasonably possessive when she dresses a certain way, still makes a scene when he catches another man looking at her for a second too long. And she knows better than to fight him on it- most of the time.

It’s a summer afternoon, and she’s lounging by the pool, drink in hand, wearing a bikini that makes Rafe’s jaw clench. The sun was high, casting a golden glow over her as she adjusted the thin strap of her bikini top. It was tiny- too fucking tiny. The black fabric barely covered her tits, which, thanks to breastfeeding, were even fuller now, spilling slightly over the edges. His jaw clenched as his gaze dragged down, taking in the way the strings hugged her hips, digging into soft, newly gained curves that had him gripping the bottle in his hand just a little harder.

His friends are over, and while they’re talking, his eyes keep flicking toward her, watching the way the fabric clings to her curves. And then- Topper nudges him, nodding toward one of the new neighbours talking to her.

Rafe’s face goes dark.

She’s laughing at something the guy said, totally unaware of the way Rafe’s grip tightens around his beer bottle. He doesn’t make a scene- not yet- but when the guy finally walks away, Rafe strides over, towering over her as she peers up from her sun bed. His voice is deceptively smooth, but she knows that tone.

"Having fun, baby?"

"Yes."

His fingers skim her thigh, tracing the edge of her bikini bottoms.

"You looked like you were having a little too much fun."

She sighs, pushing her sunglasses up to rest on her head, she had a feeling she knew exactly where this was going.

"Seriously?"

"Dead serious." He leans down, voice dropping.

"Go inside and cover up."

She scoffs, shifting to sit up, the towel underneath her crumpling slightly as she moved,

"It’s our backyard and it's a pool party-."

"-I don’t give a fuck."

"Rafe, you’re being ridiculous."

"Yeah?" His grip tightens on her thigh.

"Then why’s he looking at you like he wants to fuck you?"

Her stomach flips.

"Stop," she hisses, even as heat creeps up her neck. But Rafe just smirks, leaning in so only she can hear.

"Maybe I should remind you who you belong to, huh?"

Her breath catches.

And the way he says it? The way his hand tightens on her thigh, just enough to send a warning? It sends a shiver down her spine, even as she glares at him. Because she knows- if she doesn’t listen now, he’ll make her.

Somehow, their kid never see this side of Rafe, he makes sure of it.

To them, their dad is just protective, he just 'cares about mommy so much!'. They never see the way their mother bites her lip in frustration when Rafe pulls her away from conversations. They never see the bruises he leaves- not always from violence, but from gripping her too tight, kissing her too hard. They don’t hear the way she argues in hushed tones behind closed doors, or the way she eventually gives in and melts into him anyway.

Because as much as she hates his jealousy and his control, she loves him too much to walk away.

He is the father of her child after all

[luveline]

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞

you get a good dose, confess your affections, and leave poor, oblivious hotch to fix things up neatly. 

cw painkiller high, light suggestive theme 

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

“Hello.” 

You lift your gaze without blinking. Hotch is standing in the doorway, making his way in with a bouquet of flowers tucked under one arm and a white envelope against his chest. 

“Hello,” he says again, meeting your wide, still eyes with concern. “You okay?” 

“Flowers for me?” 

“You’re the one here in a hospital bed. They’re from me and Jack. He insisted.” 

You nod up and down robotically. Your heart is unhappy today. You’ve been fast and slow and now it’s running fast again, a tip-tip-tip on the heart monitor that makes Hotch frown. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “They told me you were on a lot of pain medication, you shouldn’t be hurting anymore. Is it not working?” 

“I feel a lot.” 

“And that’s unsettling,” he surmises.

“Can I have my flowers?” 

Hotch offers them to you immediately. “Why don’t you count to a hundred for me?” 

“They’re beautiful, but there’s not that many.” 

“Count to one hundred. I can start. Do you need me to start for you?” 

You dip your face into the flowers. “I love when you say stuff like that.” 

Hotch doesn’t answer you. You begin counting, hoping he’ll say a nice thing if you do as he asked. The numbers get mixed up after thirty five, there really aren’t enough flowers to count to a hundred, but when forty five and fifty four begin to feel like the same number spiritually, Hotch reaches for your forearm and gives it a squeeze. That means job well done. Nobody else in the team gets arm squeezes —they’re for you. Nobody else has noticed, but you have. 

“Thank you,” he says. 

You beam at him. The heart monitor beeps in slow loops. “You’re welcome. Did it help?” 

“I’d say so.” He takes off his suit jacket and puts it over the back of the chair, pulling the chair towards the bed with his foot, and getting comfortable beside you, a little lower down than you but tall regardless. “Are you feeling alright?” 

“I can’t believe you got me flowers.” 

“I got you flowers the last time you were injured.” 

“I know,” you say with a laugh. “I know, it was amazing.” 

“Here’s your card from Jack. I’ve opened it for you, I hope that’s okay.” 

“I cannot open anything. I tried to stab my pudding open with a spoon and broke it and can’t find the sharp part in my blankets. I’m worried it’s going to poke me.” 

Hotch stands from his chair. “That’s not good.” 

You take up Jack’s card, pinching the folded printer paper and pulling all of its homemade glory from the envelope. The front has a red heart drawn with bandages wrapped around it, and inside is a message written in impressive penmanship considering his age. To Y/N, it says, Please get well soon. We are hoping you to have a speedy recovery! Love you, Jack and Aaron 

“It says you love me,” you say. 

“Mm, Jack wrote the message. He misses you.” 

You catch the feeling of Hotch’s hand where it slips between your legs and almost burst, giggling excitedly, which makes his hand jump away from you like a fish out of water. “You have the spoon!” 

“Found it. No more danger.” 

“Thank you. I knew you could find it.” 

“Don’t mention it.” 

The pain medication Hotch spoke of is starting to make itself known. You hadn’t felt very different to begin with, the only worthy note your absence of pain, but right now you feel weird. Light. Happy, but strange, like the opposite feeling of missing a step. You know something’s wrong and you know it’s the medication, but you’re elated at the same time. Hotch is here. Maybe it’s just him. Maybe he’ll know. 

“Do you think I feel happy ‘cos of you or the morphine?” you ask. Softly, slurring, you swallow and try not to sound as drunk. “I feel amazing.” 

“It’s the morphine.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Well, it’s been a long time since I had some myself, but I remember feeling amazing at the time, and you’re on a lot more of it than I was.” Hotch sets himself back down in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Are you staying for long?” 

“Until they make me leave,” he says. 

You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Oh, good. Yesterday you were here for ten minutes and I felt like my heart was bruised.” 

He doesn’t speak for a moment. His eyes seem darker than usual. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I had to be home to take care of Jack.” 

“I know you had to, it’s not your fault, but I still missed you.” 

You prop Jack’s amazing card on the nightstand with a proud grin. You love Jack Hotchner, he’s the smartest, kindest, sweetest boy you’ve ever met, and it must be because of his parents. You’ve not met Haley many times, but Hotch is amazing. It makes sense that his kid would be just as awesome as he is. Turning your attention back to the flowers, you find the courage to ask, “Do you think you could bring Jack to see me?” 

“I think he might be a little young for hospitals, I’m sorry.” 

“Well, maybe I can see him when I’m out of the hospital? How can I say thank you for the card? Does he still like bears?” 

“He has enough bears,” Hotch says gently. “You don’t need to buy him anything, he just wants you to get better soon.” 

“You’re such a good dad.” Your lashes kiss with the force of your smile. “You’re lovely. Jack is really kind.” 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re handsome,” you continue, slinking down in the bed. You feel tired but not sleepy, craving a really big, hot sandwich. Hotch holds your gaze. “Can I ask you a question?” 

“What?” he asks quietly. 

“Can you please get me a big, hot sandwich? Maybe with hot chicken? Or spicy chicken in a burrito? I really need it to be hot.” 

Hotch laughs aloud and reaches for your forearm to squeeze you again. “Of course I can. I’ll call Derek and I’ll make him get you both of those things, if you like.” 

“Oh, good. I really really don’t want you to leave but I really want the sandwich more than I want you to stay.” You tip your head to one side. “If you hugged me again I’d say I want you to stay more than I want the sandwich, ‘cos you haven’t hugged me in a long time.” 

“Does that bother you?” he asks, the pad of his thumb working against your wrist. 

“No, I know I’m not supposed to want you to hug me.” 

“We’re friends,” he says, shaking his head, “good friends, aren’t we? It’s alright if you want a hug. I should be better at giving them.” 

When he was with Haley you wouldn’t have dreamed of wanting it, because your affection for him has always been more than a friend‘s. You’ve guarded the secret carefully over the years. What’s more unfair to a wife than to fancy her husband? But Haley left Hotch, and he’s been single for a while now, and you think that lately he’s actively dating. He’s always had pride in his appearance, but his suits are tailored again. His hair is left to grow beyond what’s easily maintained. He and Dave occasionally joke about him getting back out there —he doesn’t need to get out there, you’re right here. 

You can’t help frowning. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“I think I’m a bad friend.” 

“You aren’t a bad friend.” 

“I am, I have ulterior motives.” 

Hotch rolls his eyes. “Honey, everybody does. You’re fine. You’re a good friend. You know you’re the sole member of the team who’s remembered Jack’s birthday every year? Remembered mine?” 

“I don’t do that to be a good friend, I just love Jack.” 

His hand slips down to yours. He holds it briefly. “I know you do.” 

“It’s why I remember yours,” you say, shaking your head, annoyed he’s taken his hand back but ready to move on to better things. “Can you ask Derek for my sandwich now, please? Please, please, I’m so hungry I’m gonna die.” 

Hotch gives you a funny look. “How about I go and get you your sandwich? I’ll be very fast. I’ll go to Sam’s across the street, would you like that?” 

“Can I have maybe a donut too?” 

“Sure, honey. I’ll get you a half dozen.” 

“Really?” 

“Sure. Do you want any in particular?” 

Hotch goes off to get you a sandwich and you click the button for more morphine without really thinking. You’re asleep before he gets back.

—

You wake up shaking. 

Aaron straightens in his chair. He hadn’t meant to doze off, but it’s nearing the end of your visiting hours and he’s been here since three. Your sandwich is stone cold in the bag and he’s not sure how he’ll get it warmed up.

Your arms are trembling badly. 

“Are you alright?” he asks. 

“Sorry.” 

“What for?” 

“Hotch, where am I?” 

Aaron stands. “You’re in the hospital. You’ve had some morphine and it ended up sedating you. The shaking will calm down soon, but nothing’s wrong, okay?” 

You’re noticeably confused, and Aaron hates it enough to sew his fingers between yours. His are thicker by quite a bit, but he’s used to smaller hands. He’s careful with you. He can’t stop thinking about what you said earlier. 

The undercurrent of fear you’d been harbouring begins to ebb. You let Aaron hold your hand and settle back down into your sheets, turning your face toward him and shutting your eyes. You don’t seem sleepy. He’s not sure what’s wrong. 

When you say you love him, he understands. He loves you, too. He doesn’t think that he’s in love with you, but he could be. He’s had enough guilty daydreams about it, batted them away, moments doing the dishes or at the gym or when you’re standing together working a case, where he forgets to forbid himself the pleasure and imagines you in simple intimacies. He sees himself taking your hand. He pictures waking up to the smell of you on his pillows. When he’s especially pent up and you’ve haunted him with your bare face or a shy smile, he ends the day thinking of you. How he’d kiss your head with just a little of his weight atop you, or a lot. 

And then he feels so horribly wrong for doing it that he resigns himself to the distance between you forever. 

Aaron doesn’t know what you want from him, but he knows he could fall in love with you if given the chance. He has to determine how honest your morphine-confession was, and there’s no time like the present. 

“Are you feeling okay?” he asks softly. 

“Yeah,” you whisper back. 

“I brought you the donuts and a sandwich, but I’ll have to reheat it. I’m sorry.” 

“Did I ask for a sandwich?” you ask, startled.

“A hot one. You emphasised.” 

“Thank you, Aaron. I don’t think I’m hungry now, I’m kinda queasy.” 

“You had a little bit more morphine than you should’ve.” 

“Sorry.” 

“Sweetheart,” he says under his breath, “that’s not your fault.” 

You squeeze his hand weakly. Any want to draw the truth from you is quickly dwindling. All he wants now is to make sure you’re okay. 

He spills himself closer to you and, without untangling your hands, brings your thin blankets to your shoulder. “You’re gonna be okay. The queasiness won’t last long. In fact, eating might help, but we can wait.” 

“Don’t you have to go home?” 

“No, I can stay if you want me to.” 

“Please, I want you to.” 

“You’re still on the morphine,” he says, rubbing your hand, “I can ask them to lower your dosage if you don’t like it, but you have to remember that it’s keeping you unaware of your pain.” 

You hesitate. “I don’t want it to hurt.” 

“Then it won’t,” he promises. You had more than your fair share of pain. 

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you whisper. 

“You’re welcome.” 

“This is all I want. For you to look after me.” 

He takes a measured breath. “I would love to look after you.” 

You turn your head half an inch to see him. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah, I think so.” He’s trying to blend the half of him you know at work with the half of him responsible for his outer life, the part of him that flirts with beautiful women at bars, the part of him that loved being a husband. “I don’t know what you want, and now isn’t the time, but,” —he prepares to be brave— “if you want me to look after you, then I will.” 

“You promise?” 

“I promise.”

“Can you kiss me?” 

His heart skips a beat. “No, honey, I can’t, I’m sorry.” 

“Not even on the head?” 

His stomach aches, but it’s a good feeling. Like worrying you lost something and finding it in the first place you’ve looked. “On the head I can do.” 

You squeeze your eyes closed in wait of his kiss, a light, chaste brush of the lips to your temple. The morphine makes you laugh, a girly, giggly bubble of it as you burrow into the sheets, like he’s tickled you. He’s twice as endeared when you squint at him like you’re waiting. 

“Can I–”

“One more,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss your forehead again. “Any more than that and you’ll die of embarrassment when you’re not drugged out of your mind.” 

“I’m not out of my mind. I’m just hallucinating. Or having a great dream.” 

He’s inclined to agree, but he knows with confidence he hasn’t had any heavy medication today. He gives you a fond look and sits back down, obliging you when you scramble to put your hand in his again. It’s a weight he could get used to holding.

“I really like you,” you confess quietly. 

He quite likes you in return. “That’s great, honey. Do you want to talk about it later? Maybe you can have one of your donuts.” 

You don’t take his misdirection as rejection, you just pull his hand to your chest and smile. “No thank you. I can wait.” 

He can wait too. 

[joecoolburrow]

Protection ~Joe Burrow x Reader

summary — Joe gets protected of you when you have to walk past paparazzi

The white flash temporarily blinded you. Even through a small crack, the cameras were ready to pounce. Joe slammed the door shut. Blinking a few times, your vision readjusted to Joe and the room around you.

“Shit, they’re out here too.” Joe sighed.

Paparazzi, Joe’s least favorite aspects of being a star quarterback. He hoped to avoid them by leaving out the back, but when you're at the biggest pre-Super Bowl party in the city it was probably unrealistic to hope.

It was fun, but you and Joe were leaving early. He’d had a long day doing press and you both preferred pizza and movie in bed over a party. Other NFL stars (current and former), musicians, models, and their plus ones could be heard partying on in the distance.

Joe gripped your arm tightly and positioned himself in front of you.

“Stay close to me, ok?”

You nodded.

Seeing Joe's usual calm demeanor laced with anxiety made you nervous. In the year you and Joe had been together, you'd never encountered paparazzi before. Not-so-subtle bystanders trying to snap a quick, unnoticeable pic was a daily occurrence. But these professional voyeurs were a new ballgame.

Joe slowing opened the door, shielding you between it and his body. Immediately, you were bombarded with camera flashes and clicks. An echo of yells rang in your ear as the over stimulation set in.

You tried to focus on just Joe’s grip on you. He stood between you and the paparazzi like a human shield, his hold of you never wavering. Soon, you'd made it across the sidewalk and started to get into the waiting car.

"HEY!" Joe yelled, starling you.

His rage filled eyes were staring at a pap who was kneeling, camera pointed up towards you.

"STAND UP!" Joe demanded.

He lightly pulled you back so you couldn't lift your leg and inadvertently give this creep what he was looking for.

When the pap didn't move, Joe repeated "STAND THE FUCK UP! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?!"

Your heart pounded rapidly. You were afraid Joe and this pap might get into a physical fight. Of course, it wouldn't be much of a fight since Joe could easily take the overweight middle-aged man. But you dreaded the scene it would cause.

Security from the party (who you hadn't even noticed was present since Joe was guarding you so well) rushed over. They pulled the pap up and moved him away. His colleagues catching the whole incident with a million cameras snaps.

Joe ushered you into the car. He climbed in after and slammed the door. For a moment, you both sat in quiet solace of the car.

Peering over at Joe, you saw anguish on his face. You thought you could ease his tension with humor.

"I see why Britney chased those guys with an umbrella."

It worked. A smile crept onto Joe's face and he exhaled a little more forcefully. Then he looked at you apologetically.

"They're vultures. This is why I hate going out. I'm sorry you have to deal with it." Joe sighed.

"I'm fine." You assured him, rubbing his shoulder.

"Don't lie just to make me feel better."

Joe always saw through you.

With a frown, you admitted, "I'm a little shaken up. All the lights and yelling, it was sensory overload. I couldn't see where we were walking and I didn't even notice that guy trying to get an up skirt shot."

"I wanted to kick his fucking teeth in."

You laughed but knew Joe was serious.

"Thank you for looking out for me."

Joe pressed a kiss to your cheek, "Always, babe."

The car pulled away and you leaned your head onto Joe's shoulder. He wrapped an arm around you, his hand resting on your hip.

"I'm really sorry." He whispered.

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

Logically, it was true, but it didn't fix the guilt you could feel Joe carrying. You took his hand.

"Joe, you are the most incredible person I've ever met. I love you. Nothing is going to ruin being with the man of my dreams, not even those creeps."

You took his hand and Joe gave you a little squeeze.

"You're worth it." You said firmly.

You pulled him down for a kiss, tender and comforting. Your lips lingered against one another's. When your eyes fluttered opened you were met with Joe's blue eyes making you a silent declaration of love.

When you arrived home, you kicked off your heels and Joe threw his jacket on the couch.

"I actually had a great time tonight." You told him.

"Me too." He smirked, "but I think the two of us can have an even better time alone."

You knew that was true.

"We can, if only this dress wasn't in our way." You pouted.

Joe pulled you flush against him.

"Don't worry, baby. I won't let anything get in our way."