#cracks about his weight

[frank3nfr0ggi3]

I love these introduction cards for them. I love them sm

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

leon and sayaka. tthe doomed duo

leon is the ultimate punk rock musician. he started his band in middle school and got unexpectedly popular

had been living a high life as a star for a while but is starting to burn out on it. hasn't done a concert in a while. has gained a little weight during his down time

is kind of worried that he's losing his touch, and will end up aimless and adrift like so many famous people after too long

sayaka is the ultimate news announcer. she wanted to be an idol but in trying to make the connections to get into the industry, she landed a role as a news announcer instead

has had a very fruitful career, and is very popular. she's good at delivering information clearly while conveying the right mood to the audience

says she feels completely and totally fulfilled in her title

[thatwitchrevan]

I don't really understand the idea that Han and Leia are genuinely bad for each other or genuinely have conflict all the time when they're married. To me it's pretty clear that their whole deal in the movies is exacerbated by the extreme stress they're under and the fact that they're newly very important to each other but can't figure out What They Are.

The tenderness and understanding they have in RotJ when they get into that fight over Luke and then Han IMMEDIATELY apologizes and comforts Leia and she asks for that comfort shows me that they're actually really good together. They support each other and work together well on Endor, Han tells her he'll back off if she wants to be with Luke, even though he clearly hates it, they're clearly crazy about each other.

like yes they WOULD still bicker a lot and be so annoying but it's literally just who they are, like 50% strong personalities (not even clashing, just bouncing off each other), 50% flirting and foreplay. but they would have a damn good marriage.

[heroictoonz]

Woah art from me thats rare lately i wont even lie this is the first time in a while that ive felt like something i drew really came out well so yeehaw

So yeah um LLoyd with chronic fatigue be upon yee i think he has issues with standing/walking for too long without aid and it takes a lot out of him especially after a fight or when he uses his powers a lot so he has canes! And kai. Kai is also there :]

AND YES I KNOW EVERYTHING IS SPELT WRONG I CANNOT SPELL FOR THE LIFE OF ME

[keelanrosa]

terfs when a study shows literally anything positive about trans people/transitioning: 'hm i think this requires some fact-checking. Were those researchers REALLY unbiased? Because if they were biased this doesn't count and if they weren't knowingly biased they probably were unconsciously biased, woke media affects so much these days. Have there been any other studies on this? Because if there haven't been this could be an outlier and if there have been and they all agree that's a bit odd, why aren't there any outliers, and if there have been and any disagree we really won't know the truth until we very thoroughly analyze them all, will we? Were there enough subjects for a good sample size? Did every single subject involved stay involved through the whole study because if they didn't we should be sure nothing shady was going on resulting in people dropping out. Are we 110% sure all the subjects were fully honest and at no point were embarrassed or afraid to admit they didn't love transitioning to the people in charge of their transition? Are we 110% sure none of the subjects were manipulated into thinking they were happy with their transition? In fact we should double-check what they think with their parents, because if the subjects and their parents disagree it's probably because they've been manipulated but their cis parents have not and are very unbiased. How many autistic subjects were there because if there weren't enough then this doesn't really study the overlap between autistic and trans and if there were too many then we just don't know enough about what causes that overlap to be sure this study really explains being trans and isn't just about being autistic. How many AFAB subjects were there because if there weren't enough this is just another example of prioritizing AMAB people and ignoring the different struggles of girls and women and if there were too many how do we know sexism didn't affect the results. Was the study double-blinded? We all know double-blinded is the most reliable so if this one wasn't that's a point against it even if the thesis literally physically could not be double-blinded. Look i'm not being transphobic, i want what's best for trans people! Really! But as a person who is not trans and therefore objective in a way they cannot possibly be, i just think we should only take into account Good Science here. You want to be following science and not being manipulated or experimented upon by something unscientific, right?'

terfs when they see a study of 45 subjects so old it predates modern criteria for gender dysphoria and basically uses 'idk her parents think she's too butch', run by a guy who practiced conversion therapy, 'confirmed' by a guy who treated the significant portion of subjects who didn't follow up as all desisting, definitely in the category of 'physically cannot double-blind this', completely contradicted by multiple other studies done on actual transgender subjects, but can be kinda cited as evidence against transitioning if you ignore everything else about it: 'oOOH SEE THIS IS WHAT WE'RE TALKIN BOUT. SCIENCE. Just good ol' unbiased thorough analysis. I see absolutely no reason to dig any deeper on this and if you think it's wrong you're the one being unscientific. It's really a shame you've been so thoroughly brainwashed by the trans agenda and can't even accept science when you see it. Maybe now that someone has finally uncovered this long-lost study from 1985, we can make some actual progress on the whole trans problem.'

[myrmica]

vitalasy going WHO IS INFLUENCING YOU ? DID YOU TALK TO MAPICC? as his immediate reaction to the zam betrayal and you can hardly even hear him say this because his mic cuts out is top 10 craziest eclipse moments to me

[thebitchkingofangmar]

right at the beginning of the Silmarillion (literally on chapter one) at some point it says that on everything that was made on Eä over the first days, Aulë had a part, and what makes me deeply insane about that is the same fucking wording used to talk about Mairon’s involvement in Melkor’s work. I am once again unwell about Mairon being unable to escape being a Maia of Aulë, because what if the true thing that you cannot escape is you.

[kaelio]

"can you explain why you always draw teskhamen with a giant straw hat" i really cant

[happy10thousandyears]

English speaking pjm fans who say dongr@ng deserve to die like do yall even play this game like. smh

[tonycries]

WILD WILD WILD

Synopsis. No time like the first time, and his first time with you is enough to drive a man wild wild wild.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, first time fúcking you, PÚSSYDRUNK BOYS, BRÉEDING, pússy-slápping, creampíes, true form!Sukuna, dp, GOJO’S POWERS, mentions of having kíds, spítting, praise, cúmplay, vírginíty loss (Choso), proposals, slight chokíng, slightly mean Geto, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. Hoping you all have a lovely lovely week <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Oh baby, baby.

You’ve made it about five absolutely shattered condoms before Toji simply growls and flips you over with such a branding slap! to your cunt - as if it was your fault he hasn’t gotten to ravage his pretty girl already.

Running his tongue over that sinful scar on his upper lip, he’s spreading your puffy pussy lips open with a slow swipe of his thick thumb. Mouth just salivating at that easy, languid trickle of your sweet sweet juices glossing down his wrist. 

“Wouldn’t have even tried so hah- hard with those goddamn rubbers if I knew what ya were holdin’ out on me, doll.” Toji jeers from above, jostling your dangling legs even tighter around his slender waist. Before planting a drippingly wet smack! smack! smack! of his swollen, reddish tip right on the peak of your sensitive clit. “Just look at how drenched that makes ya.”

“Toji–” your honeyed, dragged-out whine makes him just twitch on top of you. Squirming at the way that has him gushing out a saturated puddle of sweltering hot precum onto your pre-soaked cunt. “Won’t you just put it in alre- ah!”

And Toji’s so fucking mean with the way he inches in just the very curve of his fat tip past your gummy entrance, shutting up those cute complaints on your tongue for the most delicious whine he’s ever heard.

“Heh, there we go. Finally- finally.” he gruffs out, moving over the grip of his long digits around his thickened base to wrap around your splayed-out thighs. Such an awful tease - making you do all the work shuffling down the silken sheets trying to milk his achy shaft. “Ohhh yeah- oh my god, there we fuckin- go-”

A particularly harsh clench of your velvety walls makes him throw his head back deliriously. Hoarse, baritone moans wrenching from his chest, “Yeah- you were so fuckin’ holding out. Heh, didn’t know it could feel so good. Feels like heaven, ma. Think I could fuck this cunt for forever-” He drags a hazy kiss down your lips, “Could fuck a baby into ya-”

“Hngh! I-if it-” you’re managing to mewl out, blinking back the big fat tears in your eyes to wrap your limp arms around his neck. “-if it feels so good then why aren’t you fucking me properly.”

Another heated smack! has the imprint of all five fingers of his raising on your flesh, and Toji just shoveling the rest of his long, solid inches into your clingy insides. And- shit, he’s so jaw-droppingly massive. No matter how many times you’ve seen him, taking him is a whole other feeling.

Fuck. This was heaven.

He grunts, “Might be the first time but yer suckin’ me up so- well.”

It’s like your poor pussy was gaping around him, being molded along every tiny crevice of his cock. That slight upwards curve was just spearing into the very spongy depths of your cervix head-on, drawing wet, glossy glides across your g-spot. 

You were finally, finally being fucked by him. 

And it was maddening. 

“Say that again, doll?” he quirks his head down at you after a few heaving breaths to try and stop that pathetic cracking of his words. “Because I think you were hah- s-saying something.” Each word is punctuated by a ruthless thrust, making a sloppy mess of your insides until you could feel the thundering throb of his pumping cock, the sticky thwack of his cum-filled balls on your ass. Toji leans down until his entire body weight was pinning you against the damp mattress, holding you hostage to the way he tugs on your ear lobes with his sharp canines. “Or are ya just too hngh- cockdrunk for it already?”

Smack! 

As if you could speak.

Jaw dangling open, hulking body hunched over, his big beefy arms cage you in. “Awww, come on now. Answer me. Don’t tell me you were ah- beggin’ for my cock so badly for weeks n’ won’t even gimme your pretty compliments?”

You’re barely even able to keep up with his syrupy sweet words, locking your ankles around his waist.

Toji hisses when that slight movement has him jolting even rougher against the bulbous bullseye of your sweet spots. “I-I didn’t-”

“I-I-I didn’t-” he snickers against your lips, swiveling his hips into slow sultry swirls until his fat girth was dragging his prominent veins along all your sweet spots. You’re just keening at that, making your back arch up sluttily into Toji’s muscled chest. “Honestly. If all it took was my ngh- d-dick to make you forget those good girl manners, I’d have done this- much- sooner-”

He’s babbling out just as deliriously as you no matter how much he’d like to pretend he isn’t. Because oh Toji Fushiguro was no match for your pretty pussy.

No match for the way each of his ramming thrusts had every shred of rationality flying out of his honeyed mind, puffs of breath coming out more feverish. Heavier. Words slurring and jumbling together at every fresh coat of your slippery slick down his raw length. 

“Shit.” His eyes lock on your utterly fucked-out expression, he can’t even bring himself to look downwards at how well you’re taking him. “Let’s see how much of a cockdrunk slut ya really are- open that mouth, ma.”

And Toji could almost laugh at how readily your spit-glossed lips sag open for him. Taking it all in one go when he spits out a hot, steady stream of spit right onto your pink taste buds. 

“Yeahh, heheh-” he’s grinning darkly, feeling his tight balls squeeze painfully. Gliding the soft pad of his thumb down that translucent trickle of drool along the corner of your mouth. “Now swallow.” Rock-hard tip mashing against your g-spot in a way that only makes you head his instructions without a second thought. 

“Good. Now you realize-” His rough hands wrangle your boneless legs on top of his broad shoulders, bending down, down, down into the meanest mating press possible. “-that I was serious about fuckin’ a baby into ya, right?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - “Marry m- take it.”

“Ken- Ken–” your sultry mewls only grow louder, batting those teary eyes up at where Nanami’s got you folded into the firmest little mating press he’d allow himself. “I want more.”

Oh, and he thinks he could pass out. He thinks he’s stopped breathing. Nanami thinks with all his bleary head and his achy, furious dick that he’s going to marry you right here, right now on these expensive silken sheets. 

He’s leaning in close enough to kiss his forehead against yours, sweat-slicked lips clashing into yours in a way that makes your knees weak. Hushing out, “Shhh, s’alright, my love.” And his tone is so sweet that you almost forget the absolutely mean way Nanami was splitting you apart. Your sopping pussy bulging out at the intrusion of his fat, hot girth. “Good girl, takin’ me so well for the first time. Tell me- hah- tell me where.”

And all you can do is dazedly guide his massive hand along your tummy, so warm and comforting. Pressing down where he gets to the lewd little nudge of his thick tip, sheathing in deeper and deeper and-

“H-here–” you’re mewling, big fat tears streaming down your eyes now. Ones that he wastes absolutely no time licking long, languid stripes to taste. He groans at the salty flavor. “Can feel you right here, Ken. Didn’t- hngh- didn’t think you’d be in so- deep-”

Those simple words have Nanami’s body shivering, sucking in a deep, shuddering inhale when his leaky tip just twitches. Convulsing in a jagged little line along the spongy crevice of your sweet spots, he huffs out an exasperated laugh. “What did ya expect, darling?” He purrs, tucking his face into the sensitive crook of your neck. “M’gonna be in even deeper soon y’know-”

And if you thought that he was already rummaging inside you brandingly, he was barely even halfway in yet. 

“Shhh you got this.” Feeding you inch after inch, it’s like it was never-ending. You’ve never been stretched out to this extent ever before, having your cunt all gaping and spread wide open for him. Nanami didn’t even have to crane his head to eye down at you glistening hole, winking up at him sluttily. Just filling you to the brim, the very tip of his drooling cock shoves against your g-spot in an addicted little kiss. Each collision has you slamming further and further up the bed, struggling. Because while Nanami Kento acted the part of a gentleman - his achy dick sure didn’t.

You hips jerk so prettily when he runs a calloused thumb over the very peak of your neglected clit. “You alright, my love? Need-”

“More!” you cut him off with such a cute whine. And it makes his cock act in a way he’d be almost embarrassed about, puncturing deeply into your plushy walls. Leaving a harsh sting of the very divot on his thick tip along your cervix. But it still wasn’t enough. “Please- Wan’ more more more- faster, Ken.”

By now, Nanami knew he was going to marry you. 

Oh, how he was going to fuck you exactly like this on your wedding night. And every night after that and after that and-

“Fuck, I love you-” he sputters out, stealing a few lingering kisses on your needy lips. Depraved. Filthy. Bruising with just how fast he was pistoning into you. “Love you love you- gonna marry you, y’know?” His eyes roll to the back of his head, head throwing backwards when you clench. “Gonna buy us a house, make y’my pretty wife- ah- fuck fuck fuck-”

Whatever’s left of Nanami’s rationality knows how ridiculous he sounds - the first taste of his pretty wife- well, future wife’s pussy and he’s already babbling about marriage. Fuck. 

But you only kiss him back as drunkenly as ever, hungry. Bucking your hips up in a wild way for more. “Mhm- wan’ you to- ah- fuck–” Drool drips down the corner of your mouth, and your eyes are drooping such after every smashing kiss against your g-spot. It’s all you can do to whimper, “M’so close ah- think m’so–”

“Me too-” he grits out, jaw clenching. “Me too me too- hah-”

The raspy baritone of his voice shakes with the incessant smack! smack! smack! of his painfully heavy, cum-filled balls against your skin. Riotous and relentless. Only accompanied by your sweet ah! ah! ah! and those slurping noises from below. 

“Cum inside me, Ken-” you moan, voice shaking into a whine. “Don’ want you to waste a drop, p-please cum inside-”

“Then take it-” he gasps out. He’s clinging onto you so tight, so deep. Fingers moving before his useless mind when his thumb grows steadily sloppier on your clit. Tight circles patterning into a rapid M-A-R-R-Y-M-E-M-A-R-R-Y-M-E-M-A- “Take it like my ah! good lil’ wife.”

And you don’t know who’s cumming first, but it only takes a few more throbbing strokes before Nanami just fills you to the brim with all his warmth. It seeps out of you - thick, velvety ropes of his potent seed that can’t stop spewing from his furious, weepy tip. So red and jolting with each of your constricting squeezes. 

You gasp, waves of your own high crashing into you over and over with every piston of his hips. And leftovers of Nanami’s cum gushes out of you with each buck of your needy ips.

“O-oh my god-” you’re whimpering, dragging your nails down his flexingly broad back. Babbling away cockdrunkenly, “How am I so- full ah-”

Nanami heaves out ragged sighs, pulling out his twitchy tip ever-so-slightly to let his cum form a glossy sheen of milky white between your legs. And he’s so gone, so utterly fucked-out when he swipes his thumb across that creamy puddle. Bringing it up to plug it into your slack-jawed mouth, “Think I s-skipped a few steps into making you a pretty momma before I made you my pretty wife, darling.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - KEEP UP!

“Is that-” Geto hisses, gritting his teeth ferociously, and it’s all he can do to not just throw his head back pussydrunkenly. To all but grip your trembly thighs in two of his rough hands, peering up at you through long, dark lashes. “Is that all you got, gorgeous?”

The only response he gets are your hips grinding down in sticky swivels to smack against his toned ones. Geto’s thighs come up behind you to just squeeze your glissading body, gyrating up even deeper. 

“W-well–” you whine at his mean smirk, your hands greedily dancing upwards to smooth and knead all over his pale, sculpted skin. “-you’re not doin’ any ah- better-”

Fuck, was that the understatement of the year.

It was only the first time Geto was sinking into your sweet, sweet pussy and he’s already so fucked-out. So hungry for more with the way his hips just up ravenously, heady scent making your head spin. Making his head spin - the only thing on his mind right now being why the fuck didn’t he fuck this pretty cunt of yours sooner?

“Heh, thought you said you weren’t all that affected, Sugu?” you’re giggling smugly, which only makes his rosy lips slack open. Wet, gurgling moans being wrenched out with each snap of his hips. It’s only then that you realize - he didn’t even mean to say that out loud. “Wait- You’re not serious, are you?”

“Shut up.”

That vice-like hold on the plush of your hips turns bruising, Geto’s entire body just wracking with a violent shudder until he’s sitting upwards. Hauling you along with him to be splayed out all prettily on his lap, mashing his lips in a simpering kiss. 

“Shut up shut up shut-” he spits against your glossy pout. The only thing he can do is thrust, letting his mouth foam with each rut into your sopping wet walls. Growing harder and harder with each jiggle of your ass against his tightly thwacking balls. “Shut up n’ just let hah- let this cunt speak for herself, m’kay?”

His words catch you by surprise, and the relentless squelch! squelch! squelch! of your slobbering cunt rings in your ears.

You lean down to kiss the very tips of Geto’s reddening ears, “So mean.” 

At your pouty huff, he bullies in two of his fingers into your drunkenly slacking mouth. Forcing you to suck. To shut up. “So mouthy.” he spits. “So so–”

Geto trails off with a guttural groan, big beefy arms wrapping around your convulsing body until he has you pinned to him like some perfect cocksleeve. He’s whining, “Oh, I can’t- I can’t I-”

And before you know it, he’s pulling out all at once, leaving you whimpering at the hasty drag of his thick cock down your clingy walls. Missing him already. 

“I can’t- I need to-” Snap! Geto’s rock-hard dick only engorges even bigger when he tugs on the thin rubber condom covering it, the slap of cool hair mixed with your syrupy sweet juices driving him wild. Rubbing his angrily raw length along your drenched slit, “Please- let me. I need to feel ya for real, please, gorgeous.”

“Yes.” you mewl. “Yes yes yes-”

He’s purposefully leaning backwards on the mattress to shove every inch of himself into your deepest, most sensitive depths. Rummaging his weepy erection inside you until he’s kissing wetly against your sweet spots. And even through his slender fingers hitting at the back of your throat, your whimpers get louder. Pitching up higher. More slutty.

“Hah- ya scream even with my fingers hah- inside your pretty mouth.” His nose breathes a slow, delicate trail down your thundering pulse. “And you say I’m the one fucked-out with jus’ one t-taste.”

He stutters. Geto Suguru stutters. 

The one always so sharp with his tongue, and quick with his words can’t stop his voice from cracking. From bearing you with the full brunt of his pussydrunken gaze, and immediately Geto bites down on his lower lip. Pathetically trying to stop any more of his pretty noises from reaching your ears.

“Hngh- Sugu-” you manage to mumble out around his digits. Dragging up one of your hands to pull roughly on his long, inky hair. “So mean.”

“You’re the hah- m-mean one, my girl.” Geto’s next words come out absolutely ruined. Disheveled strands falling all around your face and sticking to both of your sweat-sheened bodies. His dark brows scrunch together, mouth dry like he’s starved. “So mean- taunting me with such a-a perfect pussy. Holding it-” Those dripping wet fingers inside your mouth make their slow, sloppy trail down to toy with your puffed-up clit. Rolling over gently, and back again. “-back from me for so- hah- so fuckin’ long. Y’know how fuckin’ long I’ve wanted to fuck you like this-” His kiss is messy - salty, it hits you each each juttering slam that he’s tearing up. “-Oh, if you knew you’d be scared.”

He’s sounding desperate. Ruined. 

Each and every one of his sultry swipes into your g-spot making his head throw back, abs clenching with every blissful shiver. You were so hot. So soft. And Geto fucking cursed the days he spent not fucking you right then and there from the moment he first saw you.

“Y-you said that-” your greedy hips push downwards against his saturatedly cum-filled balls. Sparks of pleasure making something so hot coil at the very bottom of your stomach. “-out loud again. Sugu- ah-”

“And?” 

With a smugly smacking kiss against your lips, he’s plowing on, “Can feel how ah- badly ya wan’ me to fill you up. How wet how wet it hngh- gets you to see me s-so ruined like this-” Cold rings of his fingers swirling coolingly inside your mouth - deep. “-my little sadist.”

You moan uproariously, which only makes him chuckle. Low, and hoarse. Dangerous. “And you best believe that when I cum-” Patting your bulging cunt, “-m’gonna have another taste.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Too sweet…

“O-oh–”

Choso can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed at the pathetic way his deep voice cracks, the way his pretty pink lips fall into a lewd oh! Eyes rolling to the back of his head, thighs shivering after each shuddering little hump. 

You let out a drunken giggle, feeling the sloshing of his sopping wet precum splatter all along your inner thighs. “Something wrong, Cho?”

“No!” your dear boyfriend is gasping, dewy eyes just wrenching open in a panic. Long, jittery limbs so fearful of losing even an ounce of that hot drag of your puffed-up pussy lips against his swollen tip. “No no no-” His strong arms come around your body, pinning you against where he had you on all fours. “Please don’t take this heavenly pussy a-away from me, baby.”

The words are so hastily spat out, like it hurt to even say them.

You’re whirling your head over your shoulders, glassy eyes spying down at that ragged rouge blush all over Choso’s face, that pussydrunk trail of drool down his lips, the way his achy cock hung so angry and heavy between his legs. Between yours. 

So pretty. 

“Well then, Cho.” His bruised lips just wobble at your sweet, sweet nickname. “Why aren’t ya putting it in already, then?”

“B-because-” his breath comes out in a hot puff against the back of your neck, and Choso takes the languid time to leave such a wet stream of kisses up your arched back. “Because m’worried s’not gonna be all you want, my baby.”

And he sounded so desperate. So needy, holding himself back. 

A deft hand of yours tangles its way into his dark hair, pulling until your pretty boyfriend just keens. Dragging the sweltering hot tip of his swollen cock along your dripping wet slit. It mixes your honeyed juices together with an obscene squelch! 

You steady yourself to just push - ever-so-slightly - down the plush mattress to take a mere inch of him. 

And oh that turns him into such a babbling mess, moans hitching in his rumbling chest. Gasping and stuttering out sultry curses while Choso grabs his hands onto the curve of your waist. Hips reeling - forwards.

It only takes a mere moment before Choso slouches over, pinning you into him until you couldn’t move your filthy hips anymore. But the damage was already done. 

And before you know it, he’s cumming - before he knows it, he’s cumming. Plugging in your tight hole with just his fat tip, he’s sobbing out thick, potent ribbon after ribbon of cum into your overstuffed pussy. So much of his slippery slick seed, hitting your spongy cervix, knocking on your womb. The sheer volume of it that sticks all around his cock in a creamy ring.

“Wait- oh-” he whimpers, voice shot. There was just something about the way your soaked, gummy walls were closing in on him, trying to just suck something delicious out of him that made it unable to stop himself. “Wait- I can’t oh-”

Muscled thighs spreading out even farther on the plush bed, he gives absolutely no warning before just pounding into you ruthlessly. No rhythm or reason at all. Just reveling in the way your slobbering cunt molds all around him, that jiggling smack! of your ass as he fucks you from behind.

“Is this…” he breathes out unsteadily, chest heaving. Hiking up one of his legs to drive his fat tip against the very bottom of your pussy even deeper. To drill across in thorough, wet glides of splashing cum. In wonderment, “So is this what you f-feel like, y baby- hngh! Is this ah- what- what sex feels like?”

He’s so sloppy, and he’s not even trying to be. Having that glossy puddle of cum spread wider and wider underneath your fervently ramming bodies.

“Mhmmm–” you’re batting your lashes at him. 

Choso mashes his lips into yours, groaning out with each sharp hit of his hip bones against the curve of your ass. Whining, “Does- does it feel as good for you?” The hefty swell of his balls grind up greedily into your pussy, getting messier and wetter with every cascade of your juices down his eager length. His long fingers dip down to rub the very tip of your clit. Languidly. “T-tell me, baby.”

And just one swipe of his trembly thumb against your sensitive nub is all it takes for you to just clench, to throw your head back and arch into him even more sluttily. 

“Hngh! Feels so good, Cho-” you mewl, big fat tears of stimulation welling up behind your eyelids. “K-keep going-” 

“Oh.” he sucks in a shaky breath. And you feel the rotund curve of his cock expand even girthier, stretching out the already-taut channel of your pussy. Roughly, Choso’s grabbing a handful of your ass, kneading. And if you didn’t know any better you’d have said his moans were almost pained. “Wait don’t squeeze me like that- fuck fuck fuck- feels too good don’t-”

And when have you ever listened to your poor boyfriend?

It only takes a long, hard clamp around his heated cock before Choso sees stars behind his eyes again, throat run raw with moans of your name. And then he’s cumming - again. At least, whatever sense is left in him thinks he’s cumming.

“Baby, you’re- you’re so mean-” Choso lolls out his tongue deliriously, sucking on your own. Steady tears of his splash onto your skin with each sticky leftover dredge cum shooting out, and you’re left taking each of Choso’s jackhammering thrusts. Leaving you whimpering, being held back to paint your entrance even messier. Until he’s shooting out blanks. “S’only m’first time n’ already so mean.” He swipes a hand over your now-bloated tummy, coating his fingers all over with the absolute sin oozing out of you.

Seconds later, those syrupy fingers bully between your lips. And in a hoarse, husky whisper Choso continues, “You hafta t-take responsibility, y’know?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Twin b*tches, twin b*tches

“Both.”

“Brat-”

“Both.”

And while the infamous King of Curses can do nothing but stare down at you with one of his dangerously quirked eyebrows, you take it upon your stubborn self to bite down on Sukuna’s lower lip. Tugging, “Did I stutt- hngh!”

Whatever bratty sentence on the tip of your tongue is being fully overtaken by such one of the most cockdrunken moans that Sukuna has ever heard. Forcing from your syrupy lips as soon as he’s ramming his angry cockhead upwards into your melty insides. 

“Heh, I think ya did stutter.” he’s leering down at you, feeding your drooling cunt with inch after hefty inch of his cock. “First time actually takin’ my cock and you want both? Ya wanna die, woman?”

“N-no–” you’re whining out. “I j-just want all of you-”

In milliseconds, he’s flipping the two of you over - having you thoroughly and deliriously straddled on one of his swollen cocks. You feel Sukuna’s other erection stacked behind twitch at the curve of your ass, gushing out such voluminous amounts of steaming hot precum seeping into your skin. Skin that absolutely thrills when he plants a harsh smack! 

“Don’ say things outta ya slutty pussy, lil’ human.” he growls. Shutting you up with pound after pound, engorged shaft stretching every nook and cranny of your gummy cunt open. “S’gonna end up with me havin’ ta take care of your cockdrunk self and you-” You squeal when one of his four large hands wrap snugly around your throat, hauling you to his snarling lips. “-very, very pregnant with my heir.”

If that was meant to be a threat, Sukuna already knows that it didn’t work.

Because it only made your dripping pussy more drenched, more swelteringly tight around his girth.

“Ohhh ya liked that, didn’t ya?” he grins such a feral grin that shows off those sharp canines. And Sukuna’s taking his lazy, blissful time thumbing your bulging pussy open. “Might jus’ be the first to ever want to take both, greedy lil’ thing.”

“K-una–” you push up your ass against his other matchingly rock-hard cock. “Don’t care. Just wan’ you so bad.” 

“Aww, jealous are ya?” Throat hoarse, chest heaving now, the bulbous tip of his other cock kisses insistently and wetly at your puckering cunt. He laughs, “Heh- No need, brat. Because- here-”

In true Sukuna fashion, he barely even gives you any warning before just hammering up with both cocks into the very bottom of your heated pussy with a pressurized thrust. Twin heads twinging so harshly that they knock against each other, nudging against your g-spot twice. 

He knew what you wanted.

And you were finally getting it.

“Oh.” Sukuna’s red, devilish eyes roll to the back of his head at the way your dripping wet walls were so welcoming. Rubbing up against himself with each shuddering thrust, he’s gripping your chin with another hand, pressing wet kiss after kiss. “Oh you realize that- that m’gonna be filling this cute cunt up hah- twice as much now, hm? S’not too much for yer t-tight pussy the first time takin’ your king?”

He sounded almost…concerned. Benevolent 

And all you can do is nod, taking the sloppy staccato of both cocks spearheading you like no other. Feeling stuffed so full, it was like he was knocking up into your lungs. 

“Lungs, huh?” he’s tittering, and it barely even registers that you’re speaking out loud. “Didn’t think you’d be this cockdrunk.” He babbles away, feet planting flat on the mattress to fuck up even impossibly deeper. “Gonna give ya my heir- two heirs. Hah-”

Just the very thought of it has you stumbling through the very filthiest of bounces on Sukuna’s cock, pathetically trying to meet his feral pace. 

“C’mon now, look at me.” he spits out, leaving harsh bites down your lips, your jaw, your neck. Anywhere and everywhere he could reach without stopping that incessant mashing up against your g-spot with his thickening, throbbing cocks. You’re forced to peer into his greedy gaze. “Look at while I breed you- yeahh–”

“M’so close- Kuna-” you’re mewling, lolling your bleary head down on Sukuna’s push pecs. “M’gonna- hngh- cum-”

For this, you’re rewarded with another stinging smack! onto your ass, before Sukuna easily grabs a handful to drag your drooling cunt up and down his length. “Heh, what a brat. Begged for both my- hah- cocks n’ you’re gonna cum already?” Fucking into you so hard now that you were sure he’d left two matchingly circular bruises on your cervix. “Whatever, cum for me then- but-” His cocks hit the back of your g-spot, making you painfully light-headed, “-ya better give me twins after this, my queen.”

And when you cum, oh it was like you couldn’t stop. Not with Sukuna still dragging you through your high, achy cocks so hard it was like they were about to burst. 

Smoothing against your sweetest spots once, twice before he himself cums from one of his lengths such a throaty moan of your name. And for each white-hot jolt of pleasure, Sukuna was painting you all white inside. 

“Sh-shit-” you whine, pulling him into the messiest types of kisses that you knew he loved. “M’so full- so- so full-”

Not enough, apparently.

Because no sooner are the words out of your mouth that his second, equally as filthy cock was streaming out thick spurts of cum. Staggeringly steamy hot inside you, those sticky sloshes reach your very womb, just slamming up into you mind-numbingly so that Sukuna can be sure it reaches each of your buried depths.

“Would ya look at that.” Sukuna whispers, reverant, almost. Sounding for all the world like he’s so utterly fucked. You follow his line of sight to the creamy sheen of seed drooling from between your thighs, glossy puddle forming underneath you two. 

Still-hard cocks jutting up into you without warning. Hard.“One more. I wan’ both of ‘em to cum at the same time.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - 360°

“It’ll be just hah- just the tip.” Gojo puffs out hotly against your ear, powerful hips jittering up in a way that made him feel like such an animal. Rubbing his leaky tip rawly between your swollen folds, “Promise- promise ah-”

Your dazed, blinking eyes stare right up at the absolutely ruined strongest. His cerulean eyes all watery and drooping shut with every tentative swipe up those puffed-up pussy lips of ours. And your head throws back with each pretty peck of Gojo’s rotund head against your clit. Sticky. Depraved. Oozing with precum and the lust to fuck into your cute cunt exactly the way he’s been dreaming of for so long. 

“What are best friends for, r-right?” he whines against your neck, snickering delightedly at the way your squirming hips buck up mindlessly into his. No matter how much you tried to huff and puff your way into pretending that you don’t want it as much as he’s dying for just a taste right now.

“Toru…” you start, in a scolding tone that already makes him twitch. Entire body jolting with excitement, and you feel his heavy balls rested against your thighs squeeze almost-painfully. “We stopped being just ‘best friends’ about twenty make-outs ago.”

And Gojo only rubs his head along your skin like some overgrown cat, sighing out. “Exactly.”

Biting your lip, you can only watch when he shoves apart your thighs even wider roughly. That thick, red tip positioned precariously between your lips weeping and weeping angrily.

You’re rolling your eyes, “Toru just fuck me-”

And then he’s sinking in - pushing past that first ring of resistance, stretching out your elastic cunt so mind-numbingly wide. You can feel him thrust in sticky, filthy little pushes and pulls of his hips - but you can’t see it, no.

Because just a single inch sunken inside your hot cunt was enough to drive Gojo mad. Eyes blowing wide, breath being just heaved in, and the last thing you caught was the briefest little flicker of blue lightning in his eyes before those seductive bedroom lights just burst.

It wasn’t going to be just the tip - and both of you knew it.

“Hah- Woah.” Gojo’s mouth felt dry, heart thundering when he blindly grips your body with a bruising hold. He sounded almost angry, “I didn’t know it could feel so fuckin’ good.” Voice higher pitched and unstable, he winces when it cracks ever-so-slightly at the end. “Hahaha- ohhh fuck, sweetheart. Remind me why we didn’t hngh! do this sooner?”

Oh, the intensity of it was too much. 

Six eyes was rushing at him in full force, and Gojo just hiccups being able to see that outline of his swollen cock enter and split your pussy open. He couldn’t stop. The way that fat, rounded curve was jostling and invading your insides, having your walls melting pliantly around him so good- “Takin’ me so well, especially for the first time. Greedy girl.”

“Oh- oh my god-” you’re chanting, and you feel his cock thicken with each whimper. Blood rushing forwards to mold your walls even wider after each one, gushing out wet honeyed wet precum that sticks to you like a second skin. 

“Jus’ Toru s’fine.” he titters, sinking his sharp canines into the side of your neck. It was like a claim. A little message, because after that Gojo was well into rummaging all around you gripping walls. “Though- I don’t mind if ya call me ‘baby’ or-” Smoothing his rosy lips over in a kiss against your forehead, “-your ‘husband’.”

You smack his sculpted chest, with only half as much strength you’d put into it than usual. “Gettin’ s-so ahead of yourself- hah.”

This makes him glide a greedy thumb along the outer edges of your bulging cunt, your pre-soaked slit- all the way up, up, up to where he could see himself knocking up against your g-spot. 

“Oh, my girl.” he whimpers into your mouth. Those electric sparks of purple and blue lighting up that drunken look in his eyes, the way his abs flex and contort with each ravaging push fucking you into the bed. “With a pussy this sweet m’never lettin’ ya go.”

One of his greedy thumbs come up to nudge at that curving head of his cock, head throwing back deliriously at the lewd little massage. 

You’re just whimpering tearily when his other long, slender fingers dance upwards to tease your sensitive clit, soft pads of his digits unapologetically pinching it. Hard. 

“Wait- are you-” you gasping, sitting up on your two elbows at the sudden jolts of electricity. That tiny humming vibration of jujutsu that sparks all the way from your pre-soaked clit - from those big hands toying with it. It makes you just gush, airy and light-headed when you’re coating him in all your saturated juices.

He was fucking you like he was out of control - just long, animalistic drags of his fat cock down your plushy walls. Massaging himself on each and every one of those gooey crevices at your insides, you were so goddamn addictive. And Gojo was hypnotized.

But he wants more. He needs more.

“Shit- shit shit shit-” Gojo already sounded so utterly wrecked, body bowed on top of yours. His face was unabashed - feral, looking at you like he wanted to positively devour you. “Hope y’know I can u-use Six Eyes to tell whether this pretty pussy’s gonna ah- take- to my seed, pretty girl. Whether yer gonna- ah be bred properly like you should be.” He’s nuzzling at your neck, “So get ready for a mess-”

Cutting himself off with a moan, another sloppy stroke that meshes messily with your g-spot. Gojo grins oh he grins, and you’re suddenly reminded why so many fear him. Why he’s the strongest. In the bleary distance, you think you hear another light just explode. Whispering raggedly, “Because I intend to use it.”

A/N. I feel like every time I write for Sukuna I just HAVE to make a reference to that song.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[khioneee]

‘honey, i’m home.’

simon, presumed dead for the past five years, appears at your doorstep, very much alive.

the knock at the door cut through the quiet night like a knife, startling you from restless sleep. rain hammered against the windows, and the wind howled through the cracks. your heart pounded in your chest as you shuffled toward the door, dread curling deep in your stomach. no one visited at this hour. not anymore.

you hesitated at the door, hand trembling slightly on the knob. for a moment, you thought about ignoring it—letting whoever it was go unanswered. but something pulled you forward, a strange sense of familiarity, even though you couldn’t place it.

when you opened the door, your breath caught in your throat.

there, standing on your doorstep, was simon.

simon stood before you, drenched from the rain, looking like a ghost dragged back from the edge of the world. his hair clung to his forehead, water dripping down his pale face, and exhaustion clung to him like a second skin. it had been five years since you’d gazed into those stormy eyes—five years of grief, heartache, and learning how to live without him. his familiar eyes, shadowed by exhaustion and pain, locked onto yours. his clothes were soaked, his body thinner than you remembered, like he had fought every step of the way just to stand on your doorstep.

your breath hitched painfully. ‘wake up,’ you said to yourself, heart racing. ‘please… wake up.’

but you didn’t.

‘lovie…’ simon whispered, his voice cracked and hoarse, as if he hadn’t used it for a long time. ‘i’m home.’

your mind swirled and shock paralyzing you. it felt like a cruel trick your mind had conjured. the world around you blurred, and your heart ached in your chest. it couldn’t be real. he couldn’t be here.

simon’s expression softened, and without a word, before you could react, he stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a quiet thud. he reached for you, pulling you into his arms without hesitation, and the breath left your lungs. his grip was tight, desperate, as if holding you was the only thing keeping him grounded. his cold, rain-soaked body pressed against yours, but you didn’t care.

he was here.

you froze for a moment, and then, slowly, your hands gripped the wet fabric of his jacket, your chest pressed against his. tears welled in your eyes, the disbelief crashing into a flood of emotions—relief, anger, and love. his familiar scent, rain-soaked, earthy, and undeniably him, flooded your senses, overwhelming you.

‘they told me you were dead,’ you sobbed against him, your fists clinging to his jacket as if that could keep him here. ‘they said your plane crashed. that you were gone.’

you clung to him, your heart shattering in your chest. he held you as if afraid you might slip through his fingers, as if his entire world depended on you being real.

simon buried his face into your hair, holding you tighter, his breath shaky. ‘every bloody day, i fought my way back for you,’ he said, his voice heavy with the weight of everything he’d endured. ‘you were the only reason i stayed alive.’

you sobbed harder, burying your face into his chest, your knees nearly giving out beneath you. all the years of mourning him, the endless nights spent crying yourself to sleep, the desperate ache of thinking you’d lost him forever—all of it shattered in his arms.

but then, simon’s grip on you faltered. something had shifted in the way he held you. slowly, he pulled back just enough to look down at your hand. his thumb brushing over the bare space where your wedding ring used to sit.

his body tensed. he pulled back slightly, just enough to glance down at your hand, and his breath hitched. the wedding ring you once wore was gone.

‘where’s your ring?’ he asked, voice quiet but edged with something fragile, as if the answer might break him.

your throat tightened, guilt and sorrow clawing at your chest. ‘simon…’ you started, voice cracking under the weight of it all.

his jaw tightened, and his gaze flicked past you. that’s when he saw them—new photos hanging on the walls. the ones of you and him were gone, replaced by pictures of you and someone else.

it was like the air had been knocked from his lungs. his jaw clenched, shoulders sagging under the realization. his face a mask of exhaustion and heartbreak as the weight of what he was seeing sank in.

you looked away, guilt pressing down on your chest like a heavy weight. ‘i waited…’ you whispered. ‘even when they told me there wasn’t a chance you were alive, i tried.’

his face didn’t change, but the subtle pain and betrayal in his eyes was unmistakable. ‘i came back for you,’ he uttered softly, almost to himself. ‘i told you i’d come to you.’

‘i thought you were gone,’ you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks. ‘i didn’t know how to keep waiting when they told me you’d never come back.’

simon’s hand cupped your cheek, his thumb gently brushing away your tears. despite everything, his touch was tender, grounding. ‘i didn’t survive just to be a memory, sweetheart,’ he murmured, his forehead resting against yours. ‘i fought every day to come back to you. and if i have to fight again… i will.’

you leaned into him, your heart breaking and mending all at once. the years apart, the lost moments—they still weighed heavy, but he was here. he had kept his promise, and that was all that mattered now.

‘i told you i’d come back,’ he said, voice low but steady. ‘and i’m not going anywhere. not ever again.’

[machveil]

Husband!Simon Riley that lurks behind you constantly. in your home, at the grocery store, at a bar - he’s just looming behind you. sometimes he just stands and stares at the back of your head, absolutely smitten that you’re his and he’s yours. he’s not the best with words, but he’s great at following behind you

Husband!Simon Riley that’s silently delighted when you lean against him. he’s sturdy, a wall of a man - he’s cracking a small smile under his mask when you lean into him. he’s wrapping his arm around your waist, supporting your weight as you glance around. he tried leaning against you once, he didn’t tell you and caught you off guard, almost sending you tumbling to the floor

Husband!Simon Riley that likes when you give him mundane tasks. he’s always been good about following through on orders, yours just happen to be less life-or-death than his job. he’ll do exactly what you tell him to do, no comments or complaints. you want him to fold laundry? he’s doing it how you showed him, folding shirts and pants the way you like. you want him to change a lightbulb? he’s already walking to the closet. you want him to give you a kiss? say less, he’s stalking towards you

Husband!Simon Riley that spritzes his clothes with your perfume/cologne. just a little, he likes that he can walk around alone but it still feels like you’re with him. it doesn’t matter what scent it is - floral, fruity, smokey, musky, he’d happily drown in the scent. sometimes he sprays his balaclava with it before he leaves on a deployment, the 141 silently side eyeing each other because they can smell Ghost coming before they can see him

[mssalo]

worship

Ignored and humiliated by your husband, you find yourself in Joel's arms-his best friend who's been silently craving you for far too long. One heated night pushes you both over the edge, and Joel isn't holding back. He's ready to give you what your husband never could: everything.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, cheating, body worship, your husband treating you bad, Joel treating you good, oral (f receiving), kissing, (P in V), pinning, cumming Inside, breeding kink, Joel gets nasty with it, 10k

Part: 2

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

The late afternoon sunlight filtered gently through the lace curtains, casting soft patterns across the dining table where you sat with Sarah, helping her with her homework. Your smile, though kind, felt heavy today. You leaned over the table, explaining a math problem to her with patience, even though your mind was clouded with thoughts of your husband.

It had been weeks—maybe months—since he’d been fully present. You had long suspected something was off, but now it was undeniable. He came home late, if at all, and when he did, his eyes never seemed to meet yours. You’d catch glimpses of texts on his phone, messages you weren’t supposed to see. You weren’t stupid. You knew.

But you’d spent so long being the perfect wife, the one who never caused trouble. He’d always introduced you as his “trophy,” an arm to show off at events, beautiful and polished. It was the role you’d filled for years, playing the part he wanted you to play. Smile, be perfect, don’t question. And you had been doing just that for far too long, even though inside you were crumbling.

You brushed a strand of hair from your face and forced a warm smile as Sarah struggled with her fractions.

You adored Joel’s daughter. She was smart, sweet, and had a lightness about her that made your heart ache with a longing for the family you never had. Sarah was only fourteen, but she had a way of reading people that made you think she saw right through you.

“You’re doing great, sweetie,” you encouraged her softly. “Just think of the numerator as the number on top and the denominator as the number on the bottom.”

Sarah gave you a soft smile, but it was clear she wasn’t fully focused. Her big, brown eyes studied you carefully, picking up on the sadness that lingered just beneath the surface of your cheerful demeanor.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice hesitant but filled with concern. “You seem… off today.”

Your heart sank a little at the realization that she noticed. You were supposed to be the adult here, the one keeping it all together, but it was getting harder to hide the cracks. You blinked back the tears threatening to well up, reaching over to give Sarah’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m okay, baby,” you whispered softly, trying to steady your voice. “Just a little tired, that’s all.”

Sarah looked at you for a moment longer, her brow furrowed as if she didn’t quite believe you, but she didn’t push it. She was too kind for that, too sweet. You wished your own husband had even a fraction of the empathy this girl had. Instead, he barely acknowledged your presence anymore, leaving you to feel like a ghost in your own home.

After Sarah finished her homework, you walked her to the door, sending her off with her usual hug. She hugged you back tightly, sensing more than you were letting on, but when you said goodbye, you assured her again that you were fine. She gave you one last concerned look before heading home.

After Sarah left, the silence in the house became overwhelming, filling every corner with the weight of your thoughts.

You leaned against the door for a moment, closing your eyes, fighting the urge to let the tears spill over. It was getting harder to keep up the facade. The loneliness, the sense of being unseen in your own marriage—it was suffocating.

You’d done everything you could to save the relationship, to bring back the warmth that had once existed between you and your husband, but there was nothing left.

With a deep breath, you pushed away from the door and headed to the kitchen, trying to busy yourself with anything that could distract you from the ache in your chest. But the sound of a knock at the door startled you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You weren’t expecting anyone.

When you opened it, Joel stood on your porch, concern etched into his rugged features. His broad shoulders seemed even larger framed by the doorway, his familiar Texas drawl cutting through the silence as he spoke.

“Hey,” he said, his voice gentle but serious. “Sarah told me you weren’t doing too good today. Figured I’d come by and check on you.”

You blinked, surprised but not unwelcome to see him standing there. It took a moment for you to gather your thoughts, your heart catching in your throat at the sight of him. Joel had always been kind to you, always present in a way your husband wasn’t. He was a steady, comforting presence in your life, one you had grown to rely on more than you ever intended.

“I—I’m fine,” you stammered, your voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to worry her. It’s just been a long day.”

Joel’s brow furrowed, and he didn’t hesitate to step inside, closing the door behind him. He looked down at you with those dark, thoughtful eyes of his, reading you in ways you wished your husband still could. His gaze softened, but he didn’t buy your answer for a second.

“You don’t gotta put up a front with me,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I can tell somethin’s been bothering you.”

It was those words—the way he said them with such understanding, such care—that made something in you break. You couldn’t hold it together any longer, not with Joel standing there, offering the kind of concern and kindness you hadn’t felt in so long. The tears you had been holding back began to well up again, this time falling before you could stop them.

Joel stepped forward, his hands settling gently on your arms.

“Hey, hey now… don’t cry,” he murmured softly. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

His words, so simple yet so full of warmth, only made the tears come faster. You wiped at your cheeks, embarrassed that you were falling apart like this in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to… it’s just… everything feels so wrong.”

Joel’s grip tightened slightly, a gesture of reassurance. He guided you over to the couch, sitting beside you as you tried to compose yourself. You leaned into him instinctively, finding comfort in the solid presence of his body next to yours. Joel had always had this way of making you feel safe, like you could let your guard down without fear of judgment.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked quietly, his hand still resting on your arm, warm and steady.

You hesitated, the words heavy in your throat. You’d kept it all inside for so long, afraid to say it out loud, afraid that acknowledging it would make it all too real. But sitting there, with Joel looking at you like he genuinely cared, it all came tumbling out.

“He doesn’t care anymore, Joel,” you murmured, the words spilling from your lips, weighed down by the months of heartache you had been carrying. “It’s like I’m invisible to him. He doesn’t talk to me, doesn’t even look at me… and I know he’s seeing someone else.”

The effect on Joel was immediate. His jaw clenched tightly, the muscles in his face twitching as he tried to contain the anger that flared up inside him.

His eyes darkened, filling with a storm of emotions—disbelief, frustration, and something protective, primal. His hand, which had been resting gently on your arm, tightened its grip slightly, grounding you as he processed your words.

He stared at you for a long moment, his face a mix of shock and disbelief, as if he couldn’t comprehend how anyone could treat you that way.

“What the hell is wrong with him?” Joel muttered, more to himself than to you, his voice low and rough. “How could he—how could anyone—do that to you? To you of all people?”

He shook his head, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. His voice softened, but the rough edges of his anger were still there, simmering just beneath the surface.

“You deserve so much more than that. You deserve someone who sees you, who knows just how lucky they are to have you.”

Joel leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a low, urgent murmur as he continued.

“You’re kind, thoughtful… hell, you’re always puttin’ everyone else first. The way you care for Sarah like she’s your own, the way you keep your home so warm and welcoming, the way you’ve always been there for him… you’re so damn good, and he doesn’t even see it.” He shook his head again, the disbelief etched deep in his furrowed brow.

“How could he not see that? How could he throw that away?”

His eyes softened as he looked at you, filled with a mixture of admiration and frustration.

“It breaks my heart to see you treated like this. You deserve someone who cherishes you, who shows up for you, every day… who loves you for exactly who you are.”

His words hit you like a wave, each one wrapped in the raw sincerity and care that had always been so natural for Joel. You could see the anger and confusion in his eyes—he truly couldn’t understand how anyone could treat you as anything less than extraordinary.

You had been trying so hard to convince yourself that it was enough to be the perfect wife, to keep playing the role you had been assigned, but Joel’s kindness made you question all of it. His care, his attention—it was what you had been craving for so long, and now, here he was, offering it to you without asking for anything in return.

“But I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, your voice trembling as the weight of everything settled heavily on your shoulders. “I’ve tried so hard to make it work, to be what he wants, but nothing’s enough.”

Joel’s hand lifted to your face, gently cupping your cheek. The warmth of his palm grounded you, the rough texture of his skin a stark contrast to the tenderness in his touch. He guided your face to meet his eyes, filled with an intensity that made your breath catch.

“You don’t need to be what he wants,” Joel said, his voice low, almost a growl, roughened by emotion.

“You deserve to be seen, to be loved for who you are. Not just for what you can give someone else.”

His words hung in the air between you, wrapping around your heart, pulling at the deepest parts of you that had felt so neglected, so starved for this very thing—connection.

The space between you felt charged, heavy with unspoken emotions that had been simmering for far too long. It was as though every unexpressed feeling, every suppressed desire had built up into a moment that neither of you could stop.

Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing the ache of loneliness and longing that had been gnawing at you for months. Joel had always been there, quietly, steadily, offering you the care your husband never could.

And now, sitting so close to him, his hand on your cheek, the warmth of his body radiating toward you, the pull between you was undeniable.

“Joel…” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, your gaze flickering between his deep brown eyes and his lips, so close, so tempting.

He didn’t move away. Instead, his thumb brushed across your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. His touch was tender, but his eyes were dark, filled with something deeper—something that had been quietly building between you for longer than either of you cared to admit.

“I’ll take care of you,” Joel whispered, his voice rough with the promise of protection, of something more. “You don’t have to go through this alone anymore.”

Your heart raced, torn between the vulnerability of the moment and the undeniable comfort of his words.

The way he spoke, the way he looked at you—it was everything you had been craving for so long. The tenderness you had missed, the feeling of being truly seen, appreciated, cared for. It was overwhelming. And yet…

Before you could fully process what was happening, Joel leaned in. His lips brushed against yours in a soft, hesitant kiss. The world around you seemed to disappear, the only thing grounding you being the warmth of his lips and the steady strength of his hand still cradling your face.

The kiss was gentle at first, full of the tenderness and care you had longed for, but there was something else beneath it, something more intense, more primal, as if he had been holding back for too long and couldn’t anymore.

Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if needing something to hold on to, something solid in the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.

His kiss deepened slightly, his other hand moving to the small of your back, pulling you closer. It felt like everything you had wanted—someone who saw you, who cared for you, who wanted you.

But just as quickly as the warmth of the kiss had filled you, the weight of guilt crashed down like a tidal wave. You broke away, pulling back suddenly, your heart pounding in your chest, breath coming in short gasps. You shook your head, stepping out of his reach, the taste of his kiss still lingering on your lips, but your mind already spinning.

“I—” you stammered, the words barely forming as you backed away, your hands trembling. “I can’t… I’m sorry, Joel, I just… I can’t do this.”

The look on Joel’s face was one of hurt and confusion, but also understanding. He stood there, his arms falling to his sides as he watched you retreat.

“It’s okay,” he said softly, his voice gentle, though the rough edge of his emotion was still there. “You don’t need to apologize.”

You took another step back, trying to steady yourself, your heart in your throat. “It’s not right,” you murmured, your voice trembling as you tried to rationalize everything that had just happened. “I can’t… I’m still married, and this… this is wrong.”

Joel didn’t argue. He didn’t push. He just watched you, his eyes filled with a mixture of understanding and a quiet sorrow.

“I just don’t want to see you hurt anymore,” he said softly, his voice rough with emotion. “You deserve better than the way he treats you.”

His words hit you hard, but you couldn’t stay. You couldn’t face the reality of what had just happened, of what you had almost allowed yourself to feel. The guilt was too much, too overwhelming. You turned away, your hands still trembling as you moved toward the stairs, needing distance, needing space to breathe.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again, your voice barely audible as you left Joel standing alone in the living room. You hurried upstairs, your heart heavy, your mind racing, every step a reminder of the pull between you and Joel that you had just tried so desperately to resist.

When you reached the top of the stairs, you paused, your hand gripping the banister as you tried to steady your breath. You could still feel the warmth of his lips on yours, the safety of his arms around you, and it terrified you.

Because for the first time in so long, you had felt something real, something you wanted. And yet, the weight of everything else—your marriage, your vows, the guilt—it was too much to bear.

You didn’t look back, but you could feel Joel’s presence downstairs, lingering in the quiet of the house. His words echoed in your mind, and despite everything, you knew deep down that what he had said was true: you deserved more. But admitting that meant facing the truth about everything you had been avoiding for so long.

And you weren’t ready for that.

· · ─────

The days following the kiss were thick with awkwardness and tension that hung between you and Joel like a fog neither of you knew how to clear. Every time you thought about it—his lips on yours, the tenderness in his touch, the way he had made you feel seen and wanted—your stomach twisted with guilt. But there was another feeling too, one that gnawed at you in the quiet moments when you were alone: longing. That kiss had stirred something deep inside you, something that had been buried for far too long, and now, you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

You longed for that feeling again—the safety, the warmth, the tenderness that had been absent from your life for so long. It made the distance between you and your husband feel even wider, the coldness in your marriage more unbearable. But despite how much you tried to shake it, that kiss was constantly on your mind.

Then came the day Joel came over to watch the football game with your husband. You knew it was coming—your husband had mentioned it in passing—but you weren’t prepared to see Joel again. The thought of being in the same room as him after what had happened made your heart race and your palms sweat.

When Joel arrived, you could hear his familiar knock on the door, followed by your husband’s slurred greeting. He had already been drinking, you noticed. You had hoped he would keep it under control, but knowing him, that was never a safe bet.

You opened the door and found Joel standing there, looking as calm and collected as ever. But the moment his eyes met yours, a wave of heat rushed to your face, your heart skipping in your chest. You tried to keep your expression neutral, but it was impossible to ignore the way the memory of that kiss flooded your senses all at once.

He shifted slightly, his hands slipping into his pockets, as if he was just as unsure of how to handle the tension between you. His gaze flickered over your face for just a second longer than it should have, his eyes darkening with something unspoken before he quickly looked away.

You felt the blush creeping up your neck, your cheeks growing warmer by the second. You cleared your throat, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to greet him without giving anything away.

“H-hi, Joel,” you stammered, forcing yourself to look at him, even though your heart was pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it. Your fingers fidgeted nervously with the hem of your shirt, desperate to find something—anything—to do with your hands.

Joel’s eyes flicked back to yours briefly, and you could see the hesitation there, the same uncertainty you were feeling. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his voice coming out low and gruff, but with a warmth that only made you blush harder.

“hello there,” he said, his tone casual, but the way his eyes softened when he looked at you made your stomach flip.

The awkwardness was palpable, like neither of you knew exactly what to say. You wanted to hide from the intensity of the moment, to avoid the feelings that had been swirling between you since that kiss. Your gaze darted down to your feet, your fingers still twisting the fabric of your shirt nervously.

Your husband’s voice suddenly bellowed from the living room, a loud demand for more beer, pulling both of you out of the charged moment. Joel winced slightly, his brow furrowing in mild annoyance at the sound, but you just gave a small, flustered nod.

“Uh, I’ll get that for him,” you mumbled quickly, stepping aside to let Joel in, your skin tingling with the awareness of how close he was as he brushed past you.

As Joel entered, you couldn’t help but glance at him one last time, your heart racing again when you saw the way his eyes lingered on you for a brief second before he turned toward the living room, where your husband was already half-immersed in the game.

“Thanks,” Joel murmured softly, his voice still gruff but gentle as he moved to sit beside your husband.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. You knew tonight was going to be hard—being in the same room as Joel, pretending that nothing had changed. But the way your heart leapt every time you caught his eye made it clear that things were far from normal between you.

The night dragged on painfully, the tension in the room thick and suffocating. Your husband’s drinking had started early, his excitement for the game quickly turning into something darker, something meaner as the alcohol took hold. It wasn’t unusual for him to drink during football, but tonight, it seemed worse than usual. Each beer drained away whatever patience he had left, and you could feel his mood souring with every sip.

“Get me another one,” he grunted, not bothering to look at you as he pointed at the empty bottle on the coffee table.

You moved quickly, not wanting to cause a scene, especially not with Joel sitting there. The last thing you needed was for Joel to witness the full extent of your husband’s irritability. But as you handed him the beer, your husband’s gaze flickered up to you, and his expression turned sour.

“Can’t you just do one damn thing right?” he muttered, snatching the bottle from your hand. His words were slurred but sharp, laced with frustration as if your mere presence irritated him.

Your cheeks flushed with humiliation, the familiar sting of his words settling deep inside you. You could feel Joel’s eyes on you from across the room, but you didn’t dare look at him. The embarrassment was too much. All you wanted was to get through the night, to make it out of this room with what little dignity you had left.

But it only got worse. As the game continued, your husband’s tone grew harsher, his demands more insistent.

“Get me some more chips,” he barked, barely glancing at you. You quickly obliged, fetching the bowl from the kitchen, trying to keep your hands steady as you placed it on the table in front of him.

Joel, always polite, nodded in your direction. “Thanks,” he said softly, his voice warm and sincere. The contrast between Joel’s quiet gratitude and your husband’s increasing belligerence was jarring, and it only made the ache in your chest worse.

As you turned to walk back to the kitchen, you felt it—your husband’s hand coming down hard on your ass, the slap echoing through the room. You froze in place, your entire body going rigid as the sting of his hand sent a wave of humiliation crashing over you.

“Good girl,” he slurred, his voice dripping with mockery. “You’re real good at one thing at least, huh?”

The room felt like it was spinning, your face burning with shame. You couldn’t bring yourself to move, to even breathe for a moment. Joel was right there. He had seen it all.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the humiliation overwhelming, crushing. You had endured so much already—his cruelty, his indifference—but this? In front of Joel?

You couldn’t stay in the room any longer. Without a word, you turned and walked quickly toward the stairs, your vision blurring as the tears threatened to spill. You could hear your husband muttering something under his breath, but you didn’t care. You just needed to get away.

As you reached the bathroom, you closed the door behind you and leaned against the sink, gripping the edges tightly as the tears finally came. Your breath hitched in your throat as you tried to hold it together, but it was no use. The humiliation, the shame—it was all too much.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, your reflection blurred by the tears that streamed down your face.

What had happened to you? How had things gotten this bad?

You had spent years trying to hold onto the marriage, trying to make things work, but now it felt like you were nothing more than an afterthought, a servant in your own home. The sting of his hand, the cruel way he had dismissed you—it was unbearable.

You didn’t know how long you had been standing there when you heard a soft knock at the bathroom door.

“Hey… it’s me,” Joel’s voice came from the other side, low and cautious, full of concern.

Your heart tightened in your chest. You weren’t sure if you could face him, not after what had just happened. Not after he had seen the way your husband had treated you. But Joel wasn’t like your husband. He had always been kind, always understanding. He had seen you—truly seen you—when no one else had.

“Can I come in?” he asked softly.

You hesitated for a moment, wiping at your tear-streaked face as you tried to compose yourself. Then, slowly, you unlocked the door and pulled it open just enough to let him in.

Joel stepped inside, his presence filling the small space, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. His eyes softened when he saw your tear-streaked face, his brow furrowing in concern.

“I’m sorry,” Joel murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t mean for things to get like that.”

You shook your head quickly, wiping at your eyes again. “It’s not your fault,” you whispered. “It’s just… this is how it is. I don’t know how to make it stop.”

Joel’s expression darkened slightly, but not with anger—just with sadness, frustration at the situation. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently brush a tear from your cheek, his touch so different from the harshness you had just experienced. His fingers were warm, careful, like he was afraid to push you any further than you were ready for.

“You don’t deserve this,” he said quietly, his voice full of sincerity. “You deserve better than the way he treats you.”

His words broke something inside you, and you felt your lip tremble as another sob escaped. You had been holding it in for so long—holding everything in, trying to be strong, trying to make it work. But now, standing here with Joel, it all came crashing down.

“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I feel so trapped.”

Joel didn’t say anything for a moment, just stood there, his eyes locked on yours, full of understanding. And then, quietly, he spoke again.

“You don’t have to go through this alone,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m here. Whatever you need… I’m here.”

The warmth in his words, the tenderness in his touch—it was more than you had felt in years. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt seen, felt valued. It stirred something deep inside you, something desperate and raw, a need that had been pushed down for so long.

Before you could even think about it, you lunged toward him, closing the small distance between you and crashing your lips into his. It wasn’t delicate or hesitant—it was a kiss born out of longing, out of months, maybe even years, of being unseen, unheard.

Your hands fisted into his shirt, pulling him closer as your body pressed against his, needing more, needing all of him.

Joel responded immediately, his hands gripping your waist as he kissed you back with a fierceness that matched your own. There was no hesitation in the way his lips moved against yours, no doubt in the way he held you tight.

His hand cupped the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he deepened the kiss, his mouth hungry, demanding.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was fire, igniting every nerve in your body. His kiss was rough, filled with a desperation that mirrored your own, like he had been holding back for too long and finally, finally, he could let go. The tension between you, all the unspoken words, all the stolen glances—it was exploding now in this moment, and neither of you could stop it.

Your heart raced as your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him under your fingertips. The years of loneliness, of being ignored, melted away with every touch, every kiss. Joel’s hands were everywhere, pulling you closer, pressing you against him as if he was afraid to let go.

He pulled back just slightly, his breath ragged, his forehead resting against yours.

“I’ve wanted this,” he murmured, his voice rough and thick with emotion, his lips still brushing against yours. “God, I’ve wanted this for so long.”

You couldn’t respond with words—you didn’t need to. Instead, you pulled him back into the kiss, your lips crashing together again, more desperate, more urgent. His hands gripped your hips, lifting you slightly as he backed you up against the bathroom wall, pinning you there as he kissed you harder, deeper.

There was no space left between you, no room for doubt or hesitation. Your body responded to his in ways you hadn’t felt in years, every nerve alight with the intensity of it. His hands slid down your sides, rough and possessive, holding you tightly as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

You could feel the heat rising between you, the desperation building, as if all the longing, all the frustration had finally found an outlet. His lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, each touch making your breath hitch, your body arch into his.

“Joel…” you whispered, your voice breathless, barely able to get the words out.

But he already knew. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you even closer, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that was even more intense, more consuming than before. You were lost in him, lost in the feel of him, the taste of him. Everything else—the hurt, the humiliation, the loneliness—faded away until there was only this moment, only Joel.

This was what you had been missing. This was what you had been longing for. And for the first time in so long, you felt alive.

Joel’s breath was hot against your skin as his lips moved along the curve of your neck, each kiss searing into you, grounding you in this moment, in him. His hands gripped you firmly, possessive yet tender, his touch a reassurance that you were more than what you had been made to feel for so long.

“God, you have no idea,” he whispered against your skin, his voice thick with need. “You’re everythin’. You deserve so much more than what he gives you. So much more.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body reacting to the intensity in his tone, the sincerity. You could feel the heat between you building, your heart pounding as his lips moved lower, kissing along your collarbone, your chest. You were lost in the sensation, the way his hands moved over you, the way his breath ghosted over your skin.

Joel's kisses became more urgent, more fervent, as he slowly knelt before you, his hands sliding down to the waistband of your pants. He paused for a moment, looking up at you with an expression that was both filled with desire and a silent question—a request for permission, for trust.

“Let me worship you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, his hands steady as he began to ease your pants down, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that sent sparks through you. “I want to show you how much you mean to me. I want you to feel everything.”

The air between you seemed to crackle with electricity as he pulled your pants away, his eyes dark with want as he drank in the sight of you.

Joel stood, lifting you effortlessly in his arms, turning and pressing you gently but firmly against the wall. The coolness of the tile was a sharp contrast to the heat radiating off of him, his body holding yours securely, every inch of your weight supported by his strength.

“You’re everythin’,” he murmured again, his lips finding yours in a deep, lingering kiss before trailing down your neck. “You deserve the world. And I’m gonna it to you.”

Without breaking the kiss, he shifted you slightly, his hands gripping your thighs as he held you against the wall. His mouth moved lower, his lips, his tongue, trailing over your stomach, your hips, until he was kneeling before you again, one arm wrapped around your waist to keep you steady as he pressed his lips to the inside of your thigh.

The sensation of his breath against your skin made your head spin, the anticipation building as his kisses grew slower, more deliberate, inching closer and closer to the center of your need. Every kiss, every touch felt like a promise—a promise that you were cherished, that you were seen.

Joel’s lips trembled against your skin as he kissed down your stomach, rough and hungry, his hands gripping your hips tightly as though he was afraid to let go.

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, dark with desire, and his breath came out hot against your bare thighs as he spread you open for him, his tongue flicking out to tease the edges of your soaked entrance.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me," he growled, his voice deep and husky. "I've been waitin’ for this, waitin’ to taste this sweet pussy. You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about it—about you."

You gasped as he buried his face between your legs, his tongue flat and wide as he dragged it through your folds, groaning like he was savoring every drop.

His lips latched onto your clit, sucking hard, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through your body. Your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping tightly as your legs trembled, and he groaned again, the vibration making you whimper.

"God, you're perfect," Joel mumbled against you, his voice muffled as he licked you with long, languid strokes. "This cunt is all mine tonight, yeah? You feel that? You hear that? This pussy's mine."

He sucked noisily, deliberately making sure every stroke of his tongue was loud, wet, and filthy. You could hear the lewd slurping sounds as he devoured you, his mouth greedy and desperate as if he’d been starving for this moment.

Your breath came out in ragged gasps, your whole body burning under his relentless attention.

“What if he hears?” you whispered, your voice shaky as your head fell back against the wall. “Joel… what if—”

“He won’t hear shit,” Joel cut you off, his voice rough with possessiveness. “That asshole’s passed out cold on the couch. Even if he could hear, I wouldn’t stop. He doesn’t deserve you. But I do.”

His tongue plunged into you, fucking you with wet, deep strokes, his nose brushing against your swollen clit as he grunted against you. “This pussy tastes so fuckin’ sweet, baby. All I want is to hear you moan for me. Let him fuckin’ hear it.”

You couldn’t help but whimper, your hips bucking against his face as he growled, his tongue thrusting deeper, his lips and chin coated with your arousal. He pulled back for just a second, his breath heavy, his eyes wild as he looked up at you.

"Fuck, I could eat this pussy all night," he murmured, his voice almost a snarl as he gripped your thighs tighter, pulling you even closer. "I want to make you come on my tongue over and over, until you can't stand. You deserve to be worshipped like this. I’m not stoppin’ until you scream my name."

With that, he dove back in, his tongue swirling over your clit as he sucked you harder, his mouth relentless. You moaned louder, your fingers tugging at his hair as your body arched off the wall, pleasure crashing through you with every filthy stroke of his tongue.

He groaned again, louder this time, savoring every moment as he devoured you, his mouth hot and hungry, like he couldn’t get enough.

He alternated between sucking your clit hard, his lips tight around the sensitive bud, and sliding his tongue deep inside you, fucking your pussy with slow, torturous strokes.

Each time you gasped, your body trembling as the pleasure built higher and higher, his hands gripping your thighs so hard it felt like he was staking a claim.

"Yeah, that’s it," he murmured between licks, his voice raw. "I want to hear you scream for me. Let me hear how much you love it when I eat this sweet little cunt."

Your moans grew louder, filling the bathroom as Joel’s tongue worked you harder, faster, his groans matching your own as he lost himself in the taste of you.

His hands slid up your body, gripping your breasts roughly as he continued to feast on you, the pleasure so intense it was overwhelming. You couldn’t stop yourself anymore—every nerve was on fire, your mind blank as you gave in completely to him.

"Joel, fuck, I’m gonna—" you gasped, your thighs trembling as you teetered on the edge of release.

"Cum for me, baby," he growled, his voice hoarse as his tongue flicked over your clit again, harder, faster, relentless. "Cum on my tongue. I want to taste all of it."

With a final, devastating suck on your clit, you shattered. Pleasure slammed into you, your entire body shaking as you screamed his name, your nails digging into his scalp as he held you in place, his mouth still working you through the waves of your orgasm.

Joel didn’t stop—he kept licking, kept sucking, devouring every drop as your body convulsed, the intensity of it making your legs shake.

He moaned against you, his tongue softening slightly but still teasing your swollen clit as you came down, his grip on your hips loosening just enough to let you catch your breath.

When he finally pulled back, his face was slick with your arousal, his eyes dark with lust as he looked up at you, his chest heaving.

"You taste like heaven," he rasped, his voice thick with satisfaction as he stood, pressing his body against yours again, his lips crashing into yours in a bruising kiss.

You could taste yourself on his lips, feel the raw, aching desire still burning between you, and you knew this was only the beginning.

“That’s what you deserve,” he whispered, his hands roaming over your body, possessive and loving all at once. “And I’m not done worshippin’ you.”

Joel’s hands moved up your body slowly, deliberately, as if savoring every second his fingers touched your skin. His breath was still ragged, and his lips were barely an inch from yours as he whispered against them, his voice rough but tender.

“If you were my woman, I’d never let you leave the house without makin’ you cum at least twice,” he murmured, his words sending a shiver through you. “And here he is, treatin’ you like garbage. Doesn’t he see? You’re a goddess.”

He paused, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shirt, his touch gentle but insistent as he slowly pulled it up, over your head, tossing it to the side. His eyes darkened with hunger as he gazed at your bare skin, his breath coming out in a heavy exhale as he traced his fingers along the curve of your waist, up to the clasp of your bra.

“You represent everything good in this world,” Joel continued, his voice deepening as his fingers worked to unhook your bra, his eyes locked on yours. “He should feel so damn lucky to have you. How can he not see what he has?”

Your bra fell away, and his eyes dropped to your breasts, the sight of them making him groan deeply, the sound vibrating in his chest. His hands cupped them reverently, his thumbs brushing over your nipples as his lips curled into a smirk.

“These,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, “prove my point exactly.”

Without another word, Joel dipped his head, his lips brushing against one of your nipples before he drew it into his mouth, sucking gently at first, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak.

The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure straight through your core, your back arching as you gasped, your hands instinctively finding his hair, pulling him closer.

He groaned again, his hand kneading your other breast as his mouth worked your nipple with expert precision, sucking harder, his tongue flicking over the sensitive flesh with just the right amount of pressure. Every movement of his mouth, every touch of his hands, felt like he was worshipping you, like you were something precious and sacred.

“I swear,” Joel mumbled against your skin, his lips trailing to your other nipple, sucking it into his mouth with the same intensity.

“If you were mine, I’d worship this body every damn day. You deserve to be treated like the goddess you are, not some afterthought.”

His teeth grazed your nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through you, making you whimper as he continued to suck and lick, his hands never leaving your body, constantly exploring, worshipping. It was like he couldn’t get enough of you, his mouth greedy, his hands possessive, but all of it wrapped in the tenderness that made your heart ache.

“Look at you,” he groaned, his breath hot against your skin as he switched between your breasts, lavishing each one with the same amount of attention. “Every part of you is fuckin’ perfect.”

His hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips as he pressed himself against you, his erection hard and insistent through his jeans. The friction only added to the heat between you, the tension building with every kiss, every touch. Joel’s lips moved back up to your neck, his breath ragged as he pressed soft kisses along your jawline, his words spilling out between them.

“I could spend all night tastin’ you, touchin’ you,” he whispered, his voice low and filled with raw emotion. “You deserve to feel this good all the time. I’d make sure you never forgot it.”

Your mind was spinning, your body burning under his touch. Every word he spoke, every movement of his mouth, was like gasoline on a fire, and you were completely consumed by him, by the way he made you feel—seen, wanted, worshipped.

Joel’s hands slid back up to your breasts, kneading them as his lips claimed yours in another searing kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as he pressed you harder against the wall, his body radiating heat, his need for you palpable.

“Tell me,” he rasped against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “Tell me how much you want this.”

Your breath hitched, your lips parting as his words hung in the air between you. The heat in his eyes, the intensity of his touch—it was overwhelming, and you couldn’t stop yourself from responding.

“I want it so bad, Joel,” you whispered, your voice shaky with need, your body arching into him. “Please… take your clothes off. I need to feel you.”

He groaned at your words, his hands gripping your hips tightly, his erection pressing harder against you.

“Yeah, baby,” he growled, his lips brushing yours, “you need to see a real man. Feel a real cock, not just someone who acts like one. I’ll show you the difference.”

With a swift movement, Joel pulled back just enough to yank his shirt over his head, revealing the broad, muscular chest that you’d only stolen glances at before. His skin glistened with sweat, his muscles flexing as he moved, and the sight of him made your mouth water. Your hands moved instinctively to his chest, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles as you let out a soft moan of appreciation.

“God, you’re beautiful,” you murmured, your voice breathless as your hands wandered lower, desperate to feel every inch of him.

Joel smirked, his hands already working to unbuckle his jeans, his voice dropping to a rough, dirty whisper. “You want this cock, hm? You’ve been starving for it—starving for a man who knows how to take care of you, who knows how to make you cum like you deserve.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as he pushed his jeans and boxers down in one fluid motion, his thick, hard cock springing free, already leaking with precum. It was big—thick and long, veins running down the shaft, the head swollen and glistening.

He gave it a slow stroke, his eyes locked on yours, the sight making your thighs clench with anticipation.

“See this?” he growled, tapping his cock against your thigh, making your breath hitch. “This is what you’ve been missin’. And I’m gonna make sure you never forget what a real man feels like.”

You whimpered in response, your hands reaching out to touch him, to wrap your fingers around his length, but he pulled back slightly, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“Not yet, baby,” he murmured, his voice full of filthy promise. “I want you to feel it everywhere first.”

With that, Joel pressed his cock against your stomach, dragging it slowly across your skin, leaving a slick trail of precum in its wake. You moaned, the sensation driving you wild, your body arching into him as you felt the heat of his shaft sliding over your skin.

“Fuck, you look so good with my cock on you,” he groaned, his hand gripping his length as he slid it up between your breasts, over your chest, your neck, and then back down again. “You want this. You want to feel it inside you, stretchin’ you, fillin’ you up.”

“Yes, Joel, please,” you whimpered, your voice shaking with desperation. “I need it. I need you. I want your cock so bad, I can’t stand it.”

He chuckled darkly, his hand moving to tap the thick head of his cock against your clit, the sudden jolt of pleasure making you cry out.

“You want it here, yeah?” he growled, slapping his cock against your swollen clit again, harder this time, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. “You want to feel me inside this tight little pussy, fuckin’ you like you’ve never been fucked before.”

“Oh, God, yes,” you moaned, your hands gripping his shoulders as your body trembled with need. “Fuck me, Joel. I want to feel every inch of you. I want you to ruin me.”

His eyes flashed with pure desire as he tapped his cock against your clit again, the wet head of his cock throbbing as more precum leaked out, mixing with your own arousal.

He dragged his length through your folds, coating himself in your slickness, groaning as he teased you.

“I’m gonna make you scream for me,” he rasped, his voice thick with lust as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you’ll never even think about another man again. You’ll be mine, baby. This pussy will be mine.”

Your breath came in short, ragged gasps as he pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, teasing you, making you ache for him. Every word he spoke, every filthy promise he made, sent another wave of heat crashing through you, your body desperate for the release only he could give.

“Say it,” Joel demanded, his voice rough as he slid just the tip inside you, stretching you ever so slightly. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, Joel,” you gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders tighter as you felt him start to push inside you. “I’m yours. Please, fuck me. Make me yours.”

With a deep, guttural groan, Joel thrust into you, his cock stretching you wide, filling you completely. The sensation was overwhelming, your body arching into his as he buried himself deep inside you, his hands gripping your hips as he held you in place.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growled, his voice strained as he began to move, his cock sliding in and out of you in slow, deliberate strokes. “This pussy is mine now, baby. And I’m gonna make you cum so hard, you’ll forget anyone else ever existed.”

Joel’s thrusts were deep and deliberate, each one sending a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body. His hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises, but the delicious pressure only intensified the raw need coursing between you. His cock filled you so completely, stretching you to the point where you could barely think straight, only able to feel him.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” Joel groaned, his voice rough with lust as he pulled almost all the way out before slamming back into you with a force that made you gasp.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the small room, mixing with your ragged moans and the wet, lewd sounds of your pussy taking every inch of him.

“Fuck, baby,” he growled, his voice low and rough as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “This is what you’d get with me all the time. Not that half-assed bullshit you’ve been settlin for. You’d get this—my cock fillin’ you up, my hands on your body, making you cum until you can’t even fuckin stand.”

He punctuated his words with rough, powerful thrusts, his cock driving deeper into you with each one. Your head fell back against the wall, your legs trembling as he held you up, completely at his mercy.

“You feel that?” he rasped, his breath hot against your ear as his hips snapped into you again and again. “You deserve this, you deserve to be fucked like this every day. Not treated like you’re worthless.”

Joel’s mouth was everywhere—his lips moving over your neck, nipping at your skin before kissing and licking at the sensitive spot just below your ear.

His tongue flicked out, tasting the salt of your skin, and you moaned, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he fucked you harder, his cock hitting that perfect spot deep inside you.

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he growled, his voice thick with praise and hunger. “My perfect little good girl.”

He kissed down your neck, his lips trailing lower until he found your breasts again, groaning as he took one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. The sensation of his mouth on your sensitive skin, combined with the relentless pace of his hips, had you gasping, your body on the verge of breaking apart with pleasure.

“Fuck, ’could suck these tits all day,” Joel murmured against your skin, his teeth grazing your nipple as he switched to the other breast, sucking and licking, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he fucked you harder.

“So fuckin’ beautiful. You’d get this all the time with me, baby. You’re my good girl, hm?”

“Yes,” you gasped, your body trembling as the pleasure built higher and higher, your nipples aching under his relentless attention. “I’m your good girl. Please, don’t stop.”

Joel growled, a deep, primal sound that sent a shiver down your spine as he kissed his way back up to your mouth, his lips crashing against yours in a bruising kiss.

His tongue invaded your mouth, hungry and demanding, as he continued to pound into you, each thrust harder than the last, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

You whimpered beneath him, your nails digging into his back as he pounded into you, his cock brushing against that perfect spot inside you with every thrust.

The pleasure was overwhelming, consuming you, and you could barely form coherent words. All you could do was moan his name, begging for more.

“That’s my good girl,” Joel rasped, his lips trailing down your neck as his hips snapped harder, faster. “You love this, baby? You love havin’ my cock so deep inside you, fuckin’ you the way you deserve. Tell me, baby. Tell me how much you need it.”

“I need it,” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper as your head fell back against the wall, your body trembling with pleasure.

“I need you so bad, Joel. I need your cock. I need you to fuck me harder. I love it. Please, Joel, don’t stop.”

“I won’t stop,” he growled, his hands sliding up your body, cupping your breasts again as he continued to thrust into you, his cock hitting that perfect spot over and over.

“I’ll never stop. You’ll never go a day without feelin’ this. Without knowing how fuckin’ perfect you are.”

His lips moved across your face, kissing your cheeks, your jaw, before finding your neck again, sucking and biting at your skin as he pounded into you. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he pushed you closer to the brink of release.

His tongue claimed your mouth with the same intensity as his cock claimed your pussy, his hands still worshipping your body as if he couldn’t stop touching you.

“You feel so good,” he growled against your lips, his breath ragged as his hips continued to slam into you.

“This is what I’d do every single day if you were mine. I’d wake you up with my tongue on this perfect pussy, make you cum before breakfast, fuck you until you can’t even think straight.”

You moaned loudly, your body arching into his as his filthy words made your head spin, the pleasure building inside you with every thrust of his cock.

His hand slid down your body, his thumb finding your swollen clit and rubbing it in tight circles as he fucked you, his touch sending sparks through your veins.

“I’m gonna make you cum, babygirl,” Joel whispered, his voice thick with desire as he kissed you again, his tongue dominating yours. “I want you to cum all over my cock like a good girl. Show me how much you love it.”

You whimpered, your body trembling as the pleasure mounted, your mind going blank as Joel’s cock slammed into you harder, deeper. His hand on your clit, his mouth on your neck, his body pressed tightly against yours—it was too much, and you felt yourself spiraling toward release.

“That’s it,” he growled, his voice rough as he felt you tighten around him. “Cum for me, baby. Be a good girl and cum all over my cock.”

With a final, devastating thrust, the coil inside you snapped, and you screamed his name as your orgasm tore through you, your body shaking violently as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you.

Your pussy clenched around his cock, milking him as he groaned deeply, his hips never stopping, prolonging your pleasure as he fucked you through your orgasm.

Joel’s hips slowed, but his thrusts remained deep and deliberate, his cock throbbing inside you, the heat of him radiating against your skin. His breath came in hot, ragged bursts against your neck as his hands roamed possessively over your body, caressing every inch of your trembling form.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his voice thick with need as his hips ground deeper, each thrust making your body arch against him. “You’re fuckin’ perfect. My good girl.”

His words sent another jolt of desire through you, your body still sensitive from your orgasm, but you could feel his need, the tension in his body as he held back. His cock twitched inside you, and you knew he was close—so close.

Joel’s pace slowed slightly, his cock throbbing deep inside you as he hovered over you, his breath hot and heavy against your ear. His hand slid down your side, possessive, as if every inch of your body belonged to him now. He kissed along your jawline, his voice husky, thick with lust and something deeper.

“Where do you want me to cum, baby?” he rasped, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his cock still twitching inside you.

“Tell me where you want it. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

You felt a rush of heat, your body trembling with the intensity of the moment. Your voice came out shaky, but full of want as you gasped, “Inside, Joel. Please cum inside me.”

A guttural groan escaped his throat, his eyes darkening as he stared at you, the words hitting him like a spark to gasoline.

"God, I’ve been dreamin’ of hearing you say that," he growled, his hips bucking forward again, harder this time. "Pumpin’ you full of my seed. Fuck… the thought of you pregnant with my child?"

“The thought of you, round and swollen with my baby—fuck, sometimes I just cum from imaginin’ it,” he growled, his voice growing more desperate as his thrusts quickened, his cock hitting deep inside you with every movement.

“You’d be so beautiful, so perfect. And you’d be mine—all mine.”

His words sent a shock of pleasure straight through you, the intensity of his dirty talk igniting every nerve in your body. Joel’s hands gripped your hips harder as he thrust deeper, his cock filling you completely with each powerful stroke. His voice was raw, full of desperate hunger as he whispered in your ear.

“Imagine it,” he rasped, his breath hot against your neck, his cock pounding into you relentlessly.

“You, swollen with my baby. I’d make you cum again and again while my child grows inside you. I’d take care of you, worship you… make you feel like the goddess you are.”

The filthy images he painted, combined with the overwhelming sensation of his thick cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy, made your body tremble, your mind reeling with the intensity of it. Your fingers dug into his back as your moans grew louder, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.

His pace grew faster, more frantic as he chased his release, the idea of you full of his cum, of you carrying his child, driving him wild. You could feel him getting closer, his grip on your hips tightening as his cock swelled inside you, his thrusts becoming erratic.

“You’d be such a good mother,” he groaned, his voice rough as he buried his face in your neck, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up, baby. I’m gonna cum so deep inside you. I’m gonna make sure every drop stays inside. ’ gonna be so full of my cum.”

You were lost in him, lost in the way his body felt against yours, the way his words wrapped around you, pulling you deeper into the pleasure.

“Yes, Joel,” you gasped, your voice shaky as your body trembled with anticipation. “Please, cum inside me. I want it so bad.”

“Take it, baby. Take all of it. I’m fillin’ you up. God, you feel so fucking good.”

With a deep, primal growl, Joel’s hips slammed into you one last time, his cock pulsing deep inside as he came with a force that made his whole body shudder.

He held you tightly, his breath ragged as he groaned your name, his cum spilling inside you, filling you completely.

You could feel every twitch, every hot pulse of his release, the sensation sending you over the edge again, your body convulsing as a second wave of pleasure crashed through you.

His body shook with the force of his release, his breath coming out in harsh, ragged pants as he held you tightly, his cock twitching inside you as he emptied himself.

He stayed like that for a moment, his body pressed tightly against yours, his forehead resting against your shoulder as he caught his breath. His cock still twitched inside you, his cum warm and thick as it filled you completely. His hands caressed your sides, his touch tender and loving despite the roughness of what had just happened.

Joel’s arms wrapped around you, holding you close as he buried his face in your neck, still trembling with the aftermath of his orgasm. “Fuck… you’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice soft but full of emotion. “’ everything I’ve ever wanted.”

His cock still twitched inside you, the warmth of his cum spreading through your core as he slowly pulled back, pressing soft kisses along your neck, your shoulders.

Joel's breathing was still heavy, his chest pressed against yours as he held you tightly, his cock still buried inside you. He kissed your neck softly, murmuring between deep breaths.

“I’ve been waitin’ for this,” he rasped, his voice low and raw. “You have no idea how long I’ve been savin’ this for you, baby. No one else could ever do it for me. You’re the only one… the only woman I want. I’m full of it, every drop of cum was meant for you.”

His words were tender but possessive, the weight of what he was saying wrapping around you. His hand slid up your side gently, still exploring, as though he couldn’t get enough of touching you. His lips brushed your ear, and his voice took on a pleading tone.

“Please, baby,” he whispered softly, his fingers tightening around your waist. “Leave him. You deserve more. You deserve to be worshipped, loved, the way I’ll love you every single day. You’re mine now. You know that, don’t you?”

You felt your heart pound at the weight of his words, your body still trembling from the intensity of the moment.

As the intensity of the moment began to fade, the weight of Joel's words hung in the air between you. You felt the warmth of his body still pressed against yours, his breath steadying as he held you close, but now, the frantic passion had simmered into something deeper. Something certain.

For the first time in what felt like forever, clarity washed over you. Joel had peeled back all the layers of doubt, of shame, of loneliness, and left you with the undeniable truth—you deserved this. You deserved more.

You shifted slightly in his arms, and he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. His gaze was soft, no longer driven by raw desire, but by something far more profound. There was a silent question there, one he didn’t have to ask out loud. He had already said it all.

You smiled softly, your fingers tracing over his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. You didn’t need to say anything right now. You didn’t need to make promises or decisions this second. But for the first time, you knew. You knew what you wanted, who you wanted.

And Joel knew it too.

“I’ll wait for you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple, the tenderness of the moment grounding you both. “Whenever you’re ready.”

You nodded, feeling lighter than you had in years. You weren’t just his now—you were finally yours.

As the room grew quiet, the weight of your choices settled in, but it wasn’t daunting anymore. It felt like freedom. Like the start of something new.

The beginning of everything you’d been missing.

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

[chuluoyi]

✎ unconcealable

- gojo satoru x reader

your boyfriend may not show it, but the six eyes are his burden to bear. you know it firsthand when he falls into your arms for the first time

genre: teen!gojo, fluff, hurt/comfort, flashback and fast-forward to dad!gojo later

note: hello hello i’m alive~ i have this little thing of fluff/comfort pampering in my head throughout my vacation and it’s been a long time since i last wrote about teen!gojo so here it is :D will proofread later when i get the chance!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

Back in 2006—

“Satoru, move away—”

“Nuh, uh! I’m staying! You’re too soft~”

“Satoru, If Yaga-sensei walks in… he’ll think we’re doing something indecent!”

“Mmm, don't care~”

This is the gym. Anyone could walk in. And yet your boyfriend of three weeks, Gojo Satoru, claimed his place by resting his head on your lap and squeezing his eyes shut so comfortably… like a cat.

You sighed, vexed and almost giving up— and then you noticed just how good-looking he was. Not that you just realized it now, but his long eyelashes, his smooth skin, white hair...

You have snagged a heartthrob. Or at least he could be if it wasn't for his questionable tendencies.

“Satoru, I’m being serious,” you griped, blinking back your pounding heart and starting to get anxious if anyone would see the two of you on the floor, with him over you. “Get up. Now.”

He knitted his brows together. “So stingy... Can’t your dashing boyfriend get five more minutes?”

“No. Up. Now.” You learnt by experience that the more you indulged Satoru, the more you would be inclined to comply as well. So before he dragged you into that hole...

“Hmph! No!”

“I’ll really flip you if you don’t move—!”

And that’s finally when he cracked his eyes open, totally pouting. “So mean! My head is hurting, you know! I just want to rest a bit!”

You were somewhat taken aback by his little outburst but he really got up this time, and then he stalked away, mumbling complaints.

"Some girlfriend you are... so not considerate..." he pursed his lips together, seemingly hurt as he made his way out.

That almost annoyed you greatly, and you were about to retort back when to your shock, he suddenly clutched his head and staggered. "Ahh—"

"Satoru!"

You sprinted to him and caught him as he wobbled, supporting his weight.

"Are you okay? What happened?!" you were so spooked that you went down with him to the floor again. And you immediately pulled him to you when he heaved a shuddering breath.

"I'm okay—" he said in a pant, pressing his eyes together so tightly. "I'm okay, I'm okay! Don't—"

"You're not, you idiot!"

Something with his eyes. It just dawned to you that he didn't wear his sunglasses today, and by instinct, you wrapped your arms around him, pressing him close to your chest.

"Is it hurting badly now?" you worriedly asked, keeping him tight in your embrace. "Do you want me to get you something?"

Contrary to your worries, what Satoru was more focused on was the exponential warmth that enveloped him. He had a migraine for a while there, but you so easily anchored him, making it somehow hurt less.

"You said Yaga-sensei will catch us and think we're having sex," he sullenly accused to hide the sudden blush spreading quickly on his face. "You didn't care about me just a minute ago."

"That's... a minute ago!" you hissed. "Now I'm worried!"

Your response made him smile despite himself. Satoru found comfort in the darkness of being squished against your boobs... perhaps way more than he thought he would.

"Then let me stay like this for a while. I'll be okay in a jiffy, 'kay?"

"Hmm," you hummed, absent-mindedly stroking his soft hair. You started to feel bad for chasing him away earlier, and squeezed him. "Does your head hurt often?"

"Whoa, it's only when I'm like this that you'll touch me so openly," he responded with a mock sigh, and you fought the urge not to roll your eyes. "Poor me."

"Poor you indeed. So answer me, does it, or does it not?"

"Nah, it's just how it is sometimes. Just some side effects of my eyes, you see."

"Why don't you wear your glasses today?"

"...Nanami broke them after I ate his last doughnut."

"You..." you almost giggled, and yet so exasperated at the same time. But the way Satoru squeezed your waist to hug you in return made you spare him.

You two stayed like that for a while, and when the bell rang to indicate the start of the next period, you asked him again. "Are you okay now?"

"Mm-hm, yeah, much better."

"Then let's go back to your class. I'll help you go there."

"Ehh..." But Satoru, ever the stubborn one, just buried his face into you, holding on tight and not letting go at all. "No."

You frowned. "Why—"

"Don't wanna move~ your boobs are just too good..."

"—? What—"

"They're soooo soft. Seems jiggly too? Ah, my pain is healed! Oh! When we get married, will I get to bite them too—"

"Satoru, you!"

Long story short, you two missed the next period just because Satoru nagged you to stay with him... and at the end of it all, the ones who opened the doors to the gym were Nanami and Haibara, who immediately went to report to Yaga and red-faced respectively.

Back to present—

"Time for your teardrops!"

Satoru squeezed the bottle of eyedrops, lining it up with the striking blue eyes of his six-year-old son, an cute little pumpkin who was a carbon copy of him in every way, as he laid his head on his lap.

"Mmngh," his son squirmed as the water made contact with his sensitive eyes, and squeezed both eyes shut as soon as his papa was done.

Having inherited his eyes, the boy had started to feel pain whenever he accidentally overused them. Satoru knew the feeling well, and as much as he tried to humor him, something inside him prickled whenever he saw him getting teary-eyed due to the pain.

"Still stings?" he asked with a frown. "Want to use blindfold cover your eyes, hmm?"

Your son mumbled, "...no."

"What do you want then?"

"...I want mama."

Satoru snorted, pinching his boy's plump cheek fondly. "Same, kiddo. I want mama too."

The little boy cracked his eyes open out of spite. "You always bother her everyday."

"It's not as if you do not but whatever." Satoru pursed his lips as he stared at his boy. "If only I can put those rotting grandpas in elderly home, your mama can be freed from missions."

The kid snuggled close to his lap, seeking comfort, and suddenly, he felt flash of warmth burst inside him, realizing that his little munchkin wanted him to make him feel better.

"Look, I'm not mama, but I can do this too—" he hoisted his son, and hugged him close, hiding his little face into his sturdy chest. "Here you go. Better?"

The little baby that forever connects him to you. Satoru loved his son as much as he loved you.

He had no one to really comfort him in the early days of misusing his eyes— they only told him that it was the price for the greatness he would possess. Until you did. You didn’t speak of power or strength. Each time he suffered from those migraines back then, you would hold him close.

And so, he'd be damned if the same thing happened to his precious son. He wouldn't let him be told that—he would do his best to soothe him, to make him feel safe.

"Tomorrow we're getting kikufuku, yeah?" he said with a smile, patting his son’s back gently. "And ice cream too."

"Mmm... 'kay..." the boy replied. "Papa... sleepy..."

"Then sleep, kid. I'll wake you when mama comes back, yeah?"

You. The baby. The two of you were always the center of his world. As he too drifted off to sleep beside his son, he thought that chasing after you was most definitely the greatest decision he made from that blue spring that would never return in his life.

Epilogue

"I'm home!"

Your mission ended with a bang as you completely obliterated the cursed spirit. You went home with a spring in your steps, thinking that your silly husband and cute son would be waiting for you in this afternoon.

But no one greeted you back, and you found yourself walking to your master bedroom, only to be floored by the sight.

Satoru had dozed off so unguardedly, but he had one protective arm over your son, who was also sleeping. They looked like a pair of twins, and the way your son curled up to your husband melted your heart so much that it brought a wide smile on your face.

Click! Click! You took several photos so you would be able to look at their sleepy state whenever you wanted. But as you marveled at the photographs, suddenly a sneaky hand yanked you—

"Whoa—!"

"Shh, you'll wake him up, mama," Satoru sleepily grinned as he smooched your face. "You took so long, I missed you."

"I finished one day early," you huffed, but then your expression softened as you gazed at your sleeping son. "Seems like both of you are getting along well while I was gone~"

"I fed him mochi and cookies, of course he'll be obedient."

"—! I told you he'll get cavities soon if you don't limit the sweets intake!"

"Oh? Then we just have to have another baby who won't get cavities just as you wish then~"

"That's not how it works! Satoru, you—!"

[not-neverland06]

we're dating? ♡

logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader

One-shot A/N: I've decided using the same X-men name/powers for the reader in my Logan fics is easier because coming up with superpowers is hard and stupid. They call you flux, like once, it's really just a nickname incoming warning for fluff so bad you'll get a cavity Summary: You're on probation from the team and official house arrest after a little accident with your powers. Logan knows you're going stir-crazy so he takes you to the arcade for some fun. And then your friendship takes a weird turn. (80's timeline in mind, but characters not from the 80’s will be mentioned) Clueless!reader

You’d had an accident, a few weeks ago. Well, accident might be downplaying it too much. You’d destroyed the garden and left a ten-foot crater in the backyard of Charles’ prestigious grounds. In your defense, you had warned them all that it wasn’t a good idea to take your cuffs off. 

The metal bands are entirely necessary to make sure you can’t lose control and wipe out everything around you. Manipulation at an atomic level is beyond fatal. You don’t want to think about what would have happened if you’d had the meltdown and the kids were anywhere near you. 

Charles had been able to shut you down, but now he’s keeping you on probation. You’ve been locked up in the mansion, unable to leave until you managed to get your abilities under control. There’s never been a problem with wearing the cuffs before. You don’t understand why he’s so against them now. 

You’re going stir-crazy. There’s only so many times you can pace your room before you start to lose your mind. He’s not even letting you teach classes anymore. You’re stuck training, all day, every day. 

“Focus!” Charles snaps and you resist the urge to turn his bones liquid. Maybe that would get him off your back. 

Instead of killing your friend, you glare at the large tank of water in front of you. You do what you’ve been doing for the past half hour. It fluctuates from liquid to gas to solid, and then liquid again. An endless cycle of repetition that makes you want to melt your brain so you don’t have to do this anymore. 

You drop your hand and huff. “This is pointless, Charles. What’s this even teaching me?”

He crosses his arms, walks over to you, and pointedly glares at the tank in front of you. You roll your eyes and look back at it. “Shit,” you hiss. In your frustration, the glass has cracked and splintered into dust. Water pools around your stool and leaks through the wood of the floor. You flick your wrist, the glass swirling around you before reforming into the tank. The water follows along, droplets lifting from the floor and dropping back into the container. 

“One moment of frustration, of distraction. That’s all it took.” Charles shakes his head and walks back over to his desk. He picks the cuffs up and you slip them silently back onto your wrists. “How can you be trusted to protect your team on the field if you can’t control this? What are you going to do when you’re panicked and fighting for your life?”

Shame bubbles in your gut. It makes you nauseous and forces your eyes to the floor so you don’t have to face him. He sighs, placing his hands on your shoulders and squeezing gently. You glance up at him briefly and he offers a strained smile. 

“This is for your protection, as much as you hate it, Flux. It’s necessary.” You scoff at the use of your X-Men name. Not much of an X-Man if you’re not even on the field anymore. 

“Right,” you mutter. “Thanks for the lesson in incompetency,” you don’t let him respond and slam the door to his office closed behind you. You feel bad the second you get outside and onto the porch. He doesn’t deserve your bitchiness. It’s your own fault you can’t get a handle on this. You don't have anyone to blame but yourself. 

You let out a dramatic sigh, throwing yourself into a rocking chair and running your hands over your face. The once comforting weight of your cuffs is now oppressing. It just feels like a constant reminder of your failure. You should already have a handle on all of this, but you struggle to even manipulate water. 

“Rough day?” You don’t open your eyes as Logan walks by. He takes a seat on the rocking chair beside you, letting out a low groan as he stretches. 

You let your hands drop into your lap, staring at the sunset so you don’t have to face him. You’ve already dealt with enough dejection today. You don’t need to look at him and be reminded that you want him in a way you can never have. 

“Mhm,” you hum, propping your head in your hand as you watch the sun disappear behind the clouds. The sky is painted in hues of pink and orange that seem too hopeful for how you feel right now. 

Logan chuckles, the sound low and gravely. It makes your heart stutter in your chest and you cringe in embarrassment. You know he can hear the way your heart practically beats free of your ribs when you’re around him. You’re sure with that nose of his he can smell some sort of hormonal change in you every time you lay eyes on him. 

You swear you’ve never felt this way about a man before. You haven’t had many boyfriends before, it’s not really common among mutants. Not many people are accepting of you when they know what you are. And some people are too into you. 

But you've had crushes, and none of them have been as bad as this one is. You want to gnaw on him. It sounds fucking insane every time you think about it. But when you train with him and he tears his shirt off, you want to sink your teeth into him and never let go. 

You feel feral around him, a side of you surfacing that you’re not used to. Maybe it’s because of his mutant abilities. They are very animalistic, it’s easy to blame that on how desperately you crave him. 

You hate being around him and despise not being in his presence. It’s conflicting, and more often than not you sound like a bumbling idiot when you speak to him because your brain is going in a million different directions. 

You hear the familiar click of his lighter and then he shifts again. You risk a peek over at him and regret it the second you do. His head is tilted back, eyes closed in relaxation as he stretches across the porch. Smoke leaks out of his lips as he groans in satisfaction. 

You have to pick your jaw up off the floor and make sure there isn’t drool on your chin. This is insane. You’re a grown woman, how does he have this much of an effect on you? He’s not even doing anything! He’s just sitting there and you want to jump his bones. 

You whip your head around, mumbling incoherently to yourself to get it together. Logan peaks an eye open and you miss the mischievous tilt to his lips. “Something wrong?”

I need to have sex with you or I’m going to explode. 

You stutter for a few seconds, getting your mind back together. “Just training with Charles,” you mutter. 

He sits up a little straighter and quirks a brow. When you don’t continue he sighs. “And?” He prods, impatient for your answer. You hope you’re not reading into it, but you think he’s been as disappointed by your absence from the team as you are. He always complains about being partnered up with Scott. You like to think it’s because he misses you. But you’re probably just delusional. 

“And, nothing,” you sigh. Your hands flop against your legs and you glare at the bands on your wrists. “No progress. I still can’t control them without these on, and my abilities are watered down and useless with the cuffs.”

Logan huffs, you’re caught off guard by the sudden warmth on your thigh. You glance down, eyes widening ever so slightly when you see his hand on your leg. It nearly covers the whole thing and when he squeezes your thigh you think you’re going to pass out. 

You’re friendly. But you’ve never been touchy. At least not like this. The placement of his palm is very intimate and you are struggling not to just get on your knees and profess your undying love. You take in a deep breath, looking up at him so you can get your heartbeat under control. 

But looking at him just makes it worse. Because there is so much faith and fondness in his gaze as he looks at you. His lips are tilted up, eyes soft, and you’ve never had someone make you feel so warm and secure from just a look. 

“You aren’t useless,” he tells you. He squeezes your thigh again before he retreats back to his chair. You have to clamp your jaw shut so you don’t beg him to keep touching you and never stop. “You’re just stuck in this house all day. You’ve got nothing to do but sit in your failure.”

You scoff and throw yourself back in your seat. “Don’t remind me. I’ve begged Charles to let me out.” Your gaze drifts to the crater in the backyard. Some of the kids have been working on filling it in, but whatever energy you’d let go of has left a permanent mark. “He refuses to give me permission.”

Logan laughs, the noise teasing and a little mean. Your brows furrow and you glance over at him with a questioning look. He tilts his head in disbelief like you’re an idiot. “Seriously, Flux? Just fuckin’ leave, who gives a shit?”

“Uh,” you think on it for a minute before weakly settling on, “Charles?”

His face falls and you sink lower into your seat. He looks out at the yard, gaze distant. His jaw clenches a few times before he puts the cigar out on the ashtray beside him. He gets to his feet and you think he might just leave. Instead, he turns towards you. 

You’re caught off guard by the little smirk on his face. “Wanna have some fun?”

Only an idiot would say no. 

You grin and place your hand in his, yelping slightly at how easily he pulls you to your feet. You stumble into his chest and are hesitant to back away when his hand drifts to rest on your waist. He looks down at you, smiling, he squeezes your waist once before he backs up. 

“Come on, kid.” He tugs you inside the house, leading you downstairs to the garage. You already know what he’s going for before the door is even open. 

“Didn’t Scott tell you to leave his bike alone?” Logan takes a step inside. He pauses, glancing over his shoulder and grinning at you. It makes your breath catch in your throat, the happiness on his face. You never see him like this around the others. 

You hate thinking like that. Placing too much importance on your relationship with him will only lead to heartbreak down the road. But, you never see him act the way he does with you with anyone else.

“Since when have I ever listened to Cyclops, sweetheart?” 

“Good point,” you mutter, moving to stand next to him. 

He straddles the seat and looks over expectantly at you. “Don’t you need a helmet?”

You shake your head, “Oh, no, it’ll ruin my hair.” You laugh but he gives you a deadpan look. You don’t regenerate the way he does. An accident would be a lot more fatal for you than it would be for him. You huff, “Relax, Lo, I can use my powers.” When he looks like he’s not going to drop it, you let some energy swirl around your fingers. It solidifies the air around your skin, you reach up and flick at his skull hard enough to hear the metal ding. 

He grunts, glaring down at your hand while you grin. “See,” you whisper, sliding onto the back of the bike and wrapping your arms around his waist. “I’m perfectly safe.” He shakes his head and starts the bike. 

The ride to the arcade is spent in silence. Logan always seems to break every speeding law known to man whenever he takes Scott’s bike out. You’re not sure if he does it to purposefully piss the man off, but it makes you cling to him like a wild animal. You feel like if you hit one speed bump you’re going to go flying. 

By the time he parks your legs feel like jello. He laughs a little at the way your face has blanched. Again, he offers you a hand and holds the door open to lead you inside. You’re trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but this whole thing is odd. 

You guys are friends. And you’re friendlier with each other than most of the mutants in the school. But this feels different somehow. For one, Logan kind of despises the arcade. It’s an amalgamation of bad smells and loud noises, and it overwhelms his already sensitive senses. You’ve heard him complain about the smell of body odor and fake cheese enough times when you went on a field trip with the kids. 

Secondly, he’s being more touchy than he normally would. You’re not complaining. You weren’t exactly hugged a lot as a kid, mainly just passed between different mutant fetish clubs. Logan isn’t known for handing hugs out so easily. But right now, he doesn’t seem to be ready to not have at least one hand on you. 

Maybe he’s just cheering you up. You need to stop drifting so far into your mind and just enjoy the night. “Alright, what’s first bub?”

You grin and drag him towards the claw machine. “I’m horrible at these things,” you inform him as you put your quarters in. “But, I hold out hope that one day I’ll be able to actually beat this monster.”

Three failed attempts later, it’s become embarrassingly clear that you will never beat the claw machine. Logan isn’t even trying to hide his amusement as you become increasingly more frustrated. There’s a certain point where this game stops being fun and starts to be an affront to your character. 

Logan peers into the machine and asks, “What are you going for?”

“The pigeon,” you mutter. Your tongue pokes between your lips, and your eyes narrow in concentration. You aim the claw over the pigeon perfectly and slam your hand down on the big red button. 

You’re allowed five seconds of celebration before the damn thing slips out of the claws grasp and tumbles into the pile of stuffies below. “Dammit, Bart,” you let the ridiculous name you’ve come up with for the toy slip.

Logan snorts, leaning against the glass while you jam another quarter in the slot. “Bart?” He teases. 

You shake your head and give him a look out the side of your eye. “What, you think I call myself Flux because I’m good at coming up with names?” You give up after the last failed attempt and turn to face him with a huff. 

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Tough luck, kid.” He slings an arm over your shoulder and pulls you towards the concession stand. 

“Shut up,” you laugh, slapping lightly at his chest. 

The rest of the night is nice. He doesn’t play much except for the strength-oriented games. And then you kind of just exploit him for more tickets. By the time you get back to the mansion, you’ve forgotten all about why you were upset in the first place. 

Nothing had gone wrong, you didn’t have a total meltdown and wipe out the entire arcade. You don’t know why Charles was so afraid of letting you out. 

Logan walks you back to your room, his hand heavy on your lower back as you head up the stairs. You’re talking endlessly, filling up any gap of silence with rambling you’ve lost track of. You don’t know what it is about him that invites you to yap the way you do, but you’re always embarrassed by it the second he leaves. 

You reach your door and smile up at him. “Thanks, Lo.”

He gives you a soft smile, his eyes wrinkling endearingly at the corners. He reaches up and brushes some hair off your shoulder. There’s a certain shift in his expression that has your breath stopping short. Whatever else you were going to say to him tumbles off into an incomprehensible whisper. 

He leans down and every inappropriate thought you’ve ever had about him suddenly surges to the front of your mind. Your lips part in anticipation, thinking he’s going to kiss you and your fantasies are going to come to life. 

His lips brush against your cheek so gently you almost don’t feel them. “‘Night Flux,” he leans back and your body goes with him. He backs off with a smile, walking down the hall to his own room. You feel dazed, eyelashes fluttering rapidly as you fan your cheeks and try to come to terms with what just happened.

He didn’t kiss you, but you oddly aren’t disappointed. You go to bed that night with a lovesick grin on your face. Well, you would have. Were it not for the annoyingly British voice ringing out in your head, “Training’s at four tomorrow morning. Consider it your punishment for sneaking out.”

“Fuck,” you hiss to yourself. Stupid fucking telepaths. 

You thought the arcade was a one-off moment. But Logan keeps sneaking you out of the mansion. Charles hasn’t officially lifted the house arrest, but he’s given up trying to keep you inside. Besides, you’ve essentially got a chaperone since Logan is always with you. 

You make lunch for the two of you and he’ll take you out to the woods for a picnic. Or you’ll go to the movies together. Sometimes you don’t even do anything, just linger around each other. You enjoy the company, and you love having these quiet moments together with no one else around. 

Your favorite part of all of this has to be the way he’s started touching you. He’s always got a hand on your leg or back. And if he can’t do that, then you’re tucked into his side. It’s feeding into a starved part of you that you’ve left neglected for far too long. 

It’s only been about two weeks of these fun little adventures and odd behavior. You’re dreading the moment they’ll stop. You’re not sure when Logan’s going to deem you properly cheered up, but you’re hoping it’s not anytime soon. 

There have been a few more moments where you think your friendship might turn into something more, and every time you’ve been interrupted. You’re actually starting to feel a little edged. You’ve been considering just grabbing him and planting one on him. But every time you think about it you get sick to your stomach. 

You don’t want to make a move on him and end up getting rejected. You know he’s just being a good friend and taking care of you so you don’t end up spiraling too far in your head. It’s happened before, when you’ve been struggling with your abilities. He’s just keeping you from shutting down again and you don’t want to make him uncomfortable because you’re hopelessly in love. 

When you walk out of your room this morning you’re immediately smacked in the face. “What the fuck, guys?” You yell at the two kids running past your room. Not the best language for someone who's supposed to be a role model. You can’t be bothered though, not when they’re running around throwing pink rolls of streamer at your face. 

“Sorry!” Mary calls over her shoulder, laughing as she pins a heart up onto the wall. You’re sure Charles won’t appreciate the hole in his old ass mahogany wood. It’s only as you watch her run down the stairs that you register just what is going on. 

There is pink and red everywhere. It looks like Dollar Store Cupid has thrown up all over the mansion. You’ve been so caught up in your attraction to Logan that, ironically, you’ve forgotten what month it was. 

You grumble bitterly to yourself as you trudge down the stairs. Another Valentine’s Day alone and single. How lovely. You spot two kids giggling to themselves by the banister, they lean in like they’re going to kiss and you gag. “Hey!” You snap, and they jump apart, eyes wide with fear. “Quit it, get out of here.” They scramble off and you feel just a little bit vindicated. 

“Not a fan of young love, Flux?”

You groan and roll your eyes, turning around to find a very smug Scott watching you bully teenagers. “Shut it, Summers,” you warn. You point an accusing finger at him and he raises his hands in surrender. Faux innocence played across his insufferable smirk. “When you’re in a committed relationship, you don’t get to judge me.”

His brows turn down in confusion, “Wait, but aren’t you and Logan-”

He’s cut off by the sound of a loud crash down the hall. You both turn around just as one of the classroom doors slams open. A bright pink explosion hurtles from the doors and a throng of coughing students follows. 

Jubilee walks out a minute later, a guilty expression on her face. “Sorry, I was just trying to make it more Vanetine-y.” 

You glance over at Scott, grinning widely at him while you pat his shoulder and walk past him, leaving him to clean up the mess. “Enjoy the young love, Summers.”

You actively avoid Logan all day. You’re already facing constant reminders of how lonely you are. You see kids walking around with baskets of bears and chocolates. Or you catch them passing notes in class with scribbled hearts all over the front. 

There’s only so much a girl can take before she loses it. The last thing you need is to be faced with the man you have the worst unrequited crush on in history. But he doesn’t seem to get the hint. He’s everywhere you go, popping up around corners and trying to catch your attention. 

You keep brushing him off and pretending like you have something urgent you’re going to be late for. Eventually, though, he was going to catch up with you. 

It happens in the kitchen. Most of the kids are in their rooms or the library. The noise has died down and you’re alone. You grumble to yourself, ripping down a pink streamer that keeps drifting across the top of your head and pissing you off. You grab a frozen meal from the fridge and are about to microwave it when he speaks. 

“Huh, thought you’d want something a little more romantic than a frozen burrito.” 

You gasp, clutching your chest and whirling around on him while your heart races. “Logan, Jesus, you scared me.” He’s frowning at you, eyes glaring at the frozen package in your hand. “Um,” you toss it back in the freezer but the look on his face isn’t going away. “Yeah, I might just go with cereal instead.”

He looks at you and then glances behind him. You peer around his shoulder but you don’t see anything. Without much warning, he grabs your wrist and pulls you towards the stairs. “Logan?” There’s no point in trying to resist him, he could just toss you up the stairs if he wanted to. Still, the silence is kind of creeping you out. 

You call his name a few more times but give up when he makes it clear he’s not going to be answering you anytime. There’s a rotten feeling in your stomach. You have this awful idea like you’re in trouble for something. Like a little girl who's gotten her hand caught in the cookie jar too many times. 

He stops you in front of his door and nods towards it. “You want me to go inside?” He crosses his arms and glares down at you. You huff and mutter, “Jesus, fine.” What the hell is wrong with him?

You grab the doorknob to his room, glaring at him while you do. You throw the door open dramatically, taking a step inside and surveying the area. “Wow,” you suck your teeth and shake your head. “You have not decorated at all.”

“Shut up, smartass,” he mutters in your ear. Chills prick at your skin from his proximity. A shudder goes down your spine as the low tone of his voice reverberates through you. “Look a little harder.”

You roll your eyes but acquiesce. Another run over the room finally shows you what you missed. You gasp and rush towards his bed, “Holy shit, Bart!” He chuckles behind you as you pick the stuffed pigeon up. 

“Went back for him after we left,” Logan tells you. 

You glare at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How many tries did this take you?” He mouths a smug one and you roll your eyes in irritation. You look back down at the pigeon and smile.

He smells like the inside of a claw machine. His head is sewed on crookedly and you’re pretty sure he’s missing an eye. But he’s absolutely perfect to you. You’re about to thank Logan when you spot something metal wrapped around the stuffie’s neck. “What’s this,” you mumble to yourself. 

You slide your fingers under the chain and tug it off Bart’s neck. Logan’s dog tags dangle off your fingers and you stare at him in shock. A sudden cold dread washes over you and you find yourself immobile. “Logan,” you trail off, an unspoken question following his name. 

He smirks, walking towards you and slipping the tags out of your hand. “I wanted you to have this,” he says, his voice low like this moment is too precious to break, “so you know you’re not alone. You’re always so afraid of what’s going to happen if you lose control out in the field. But you forget, you’re not alone. You have me, you’re always going to have me.” He places the tags over your neck, untucking your hair from the chain. 

You don’t even have words for him. It’s such a deeply personal gift. But this also feels incredibly intimate. There’s no possible way for you to reason this away. This isn’t something “just friends” do. 

He seems to prefer your silence, anyway. One of his hands drifts from your neck and cups your jaw. With the utmost tenderness, he lifts your face to his. “Wanted to do this for a while,” he whispers. You almost ask what he’s talking about, but his lips are already covering yours. 

It’s incredibly soft, this kiss, softer than you’re used to. He’s barely putting any pressure on you and it makes you realize that you’re still not moving. You’re just standing there in shock, eyes wide open while the man you’ve wanted since you’ve known him kisses you. 

You drop Bart to the floor and your arms come up to twine around his neck. You finally close your eyes, let your body melt into his knowing he’ll catch you. The second you reciprocate he really kisses you. Neither of you hold back, each of you pouring all the pent-up desire you’ve felt for each other. 

You’ve spent so long dancing around this, around each other. It’s like a missing puzzle piece is returned to you as Logan holds you. You feel full, complete, warmer than you ever have before. 

You part from him - needing air - painfully slow. You don’t want to spend a second away from him now that you have him. You wish you didn’t have to breathe. Wished you could have kept kissing him and never stopped. 

Logan chuckles, pressing a kiss against your forehead like he can read your thoughts. You can feel the dorky smile that’s about to split your cheeks. You bite your lip, hoping it might suppress it, but you know it’s pointless. 

You look up at him with a cheeky twinkle in your eye. “Are you asking me to be your Valentine, Lo?”

He scoffs and pulls away from you slightly. “Do you have to ask your girlfriend to be your Valentine?”

Your eyes widen and your mouth opens and closes rapidly. “I- Well- I mean,” you take a full step back from him and shake your head. “What?” You finally settle on. “I mean, I’m not objecting, at all, but what?”

Logan tilts his head, a disbelieving look on his face. “What do you think we’ve been doing the past three weeks?”

You shake your head, stuttering and struggling for an answer. “I don’t know. I thought you were being a good friend!”

He smiles, there’s no irritation on his face at your cluelessness. If anything he seems to be more endeared to you. “You think I take all my friends on romantic picnics in the woods?”

You sigh, letting out a long disappointed breath. You can’t believe you’ve been so blind. When you think about it, his behavior lately makes a lot more sense. You’re not sure how you were able to trick yourself for so long. 

“Well,” you start, walking back towards him as he pulls you into a hug, “certainly not Scott.” He huffs and shakes his head. You give him a sheepish smile, brows knitted together. “I can’t believe we’ve been dating this whole time.”

He just presses another kiss to your temple and shrugs. “It’s alright, sweetheart, you can make it up to me by being my Valentine again next year.”

There’s something unspoken in his voice. A promise that he’s planning to be around for a lot longer than a year. You smile at him, silently promising the same. “Only if you’re mine.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

a/n: i’m gonna gag actually. Made myself cringe there at the end. I want a valentine next year so bad, it’s sad. But what’s the point of a valentine if it’s not going to be Logan?

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

dividers by @/thecutestgrotto