#ehhh some of these are reaches

[hall-of-fandom-stimboards]

Raeda stimboard w/ related stims!! {Requested by @eldritch-bean}

X X X X X X X X X

[canine-teethed-sheets]

k....... kross..... wall-e au........

SOBS

[sttoru]

♯ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒.

⊹ sypnosis. you’ve been teasing kento for too long and he finally shows you the side of him that you’ve yet had to discover. . .

⊹ tags. dom!kento nanami x female reader. smut. p in v -> unprotected, standing doggy, pussy slapping, uhm hand riding if that is a word, teasing, edging, hair pulling, size difference (srry im a slut), voice kink, bondage ?, degradation kinda too, mentions of creampies, change of positions at the near end. reader gets called ‘sweetheart, darling’.

⊹ note. recent jjk ep made me weak . inspired by the many nanami scenes ihihi got lazy at the end tho uhm only proof read half of it

“come here, sweetheart.” it didn’t sound like a request coming out of your lover’s mouth — it sounded like a rough demand.

kento was fed up with your little games. he’s a man of patience; knows how to keep himself calm and collected whenever you try to be a little brat and get him fired up about something.

but, when kento came home - already furious about an incident that took place during one of his missions - his patience was tested once more. you greeted him at the door with a short dress, one that allowed him to catch a glimpse of your ass.

your feigned innocence ignited a fire in his body. a desire that begged to take over; a desire to show you that he’s not playing along with your games today. especially when you knew what you did by avoiding his touches — whenever he’d reach out a hand to touch you, you’d run — wanting him to chase you around the house.

you succeeded, but not in the way you thought.

you glance back over your shoulder as you run to the hallway where the bedrooms were situated. you neared a dead end and let out a nervous giggle at your predicament. the slow, steady footsteps of your lover got closer and closer to you: kento was right around the corner.

“i said,” kento’s deep voice echoes throughout the empty apartment, your breath hitching in your throat as his intimidating presence makes it way up to the other side of the hallway, “come here.”

you needed to mentally stop yourself from letting out a quiet moan at just his voice. it never failed to make your panties wet on the spot. hell, you can’t even remember how many times your partner had made you cum from simply talking you through it.

your eyes were staring right back at kento’s. he was quietly walking towards you, taking all the time in the world. your back hits the wall softly as you stumble back, “kento, baby, ehhh—i was just joking around, i swear. . .”

kento doesn’t react at all. his facial expression stays the same, his scowl not disappearing in the slightest. he slowly rolls up the sleeves of his blue blouse and takes off his glasses. that was enough of an indication that he was indeed mad mad.

“you should’ve just did as i told you to,” kento sighs.

in the flash of an eye, the blonde man stood right in front of you. his body easily towered over yours, his eyebrows furrowed in a deep frown whilst his left hand reached out for your waist. kento held you there for a second before suddenly turning you around with force.

your chest presses against the wall in front of you. the only thing you were able to hear was both of your heavy breathing along with the sound of kento undoing his tie. you really didn’t know what you had just gotten yourself into.

“stay still like that for me.” kento mutters under his breath as he fumbles with his tie a little. he wasn’t in a rush to punish you, but he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t want to ruin your cunt as soon as possible.

he skilfully keeps your wrists together behind your back with his black dotted tie wrapped around them, “good. you need to be reminded of your place here.”

kento’s sultry voice rings in your ear as you tried to catch a glimpse of him from your peripherals, though your movements were a bit too restricted to fully turn back around. you didn’t even realise that you had been rubbing your thighs together to create some friction — wanting to satisfy your own lustful needs by just having your lover treat you like this.

it was a very rare sight to see kento this pissed off. you wanted to push his buttons some more to see where it’d take you tonight.

the blonde sorcerer mutters something incomprehensible under his breath once he sees what you were trying to get at. he ogled your lower body, one hand even coming down to turn the hem of your dress upwards, revealing the plump flesh of your ass to his eyes.

“didn’t know my girl was this smart,” kento comments in a quiet whisper, his warm breath fanning over the skin of your ear to your neck, “you seem to have prepared for this outcome beforehand. my compliments to you, darling.”

you were wearing his favourite panty of yours—the black lace and crotchless one. what a tease you were.

his fingers travel from your tied wrists to the inner area of your thighs. kento spreads them apart for you, using just his index and thumb to create a gap where his big hand would perfectly fit between. his rough fingers were already busy taking off your underwear,

you were silent. except for the few noises of both embarrassment and anticipation that left your throat. especially when you felt the cold air hit your exposed pussy, a small line of sticky wetness gathering between your lips due to the situation.

“what a naughty thing you are. . . hah.” kento shakes his head as if in disapproval. the more he talked, the more wet you got and the more you stuck your butt out towards his pelvis — clearly wanting to get fucked already.

your eyes widen as you get a reaction out of him; his callused palm makes direct contact with your entire cunt, however in the form of a firm slap. you couldn’t contain the squeal you let out.

“ngh, fuck!” you huff as your body tingled from the contact. kento cupped your pussy gently with one hand, the other patting your hip twice to encourage you to move and grind against his palm.

he wasn’t vocal with his orders anymore since his mind was too preoccupied with the sight of your body in front of him.

you didn’t even need to be told what to do. you instantly moved your hips in a grinding motion — the palm of kento’s hand warm to the touch. a few moans fill the air around you as you took great pleasure in riding his big hand.

“just like that — perfect.” kento praises you in a hushed voice. again, his gruff voice was almost enough to send you over the edge. it sounded more. . frustrated than it normally would. like he needed to release that tension in his body.

the tip of his index and middle finger tease your clit for a few seconds. you could’ve sworn that you saw white from just how good it felt. you couldn’t fathom how you’d survive his dick—if he were as nice as to give you it,

“please fuck me. please? need your cock in me so bad.” you shamelessly whimper all of your wants and needs to kento. he simply takes them all in with an unchanging expression as he keeps his gaze at your ass and not your eyes.

he knew that he’d give up any remaining restraints if he stared into your eyes. that pleading look you give him each time you beg him to take you never fails to do its job.

“patience, sweetheart, patience.” kento hums shortly whilst gently slapping your bare cunt thrice as a punishment for speaking up and making him ‘lose focus’,

he was entranced by the faint wet sounds your pussy was making against his palm. though, nothing compares to the skin-to-skin contact he was going to make with your ass once he gets to stuff you full of him.

“can’t — can’t, kento, pleas—” your desperate plea was cut off instantly as kento’s free hand moves to grab a handful of your hair. he tugs your head back harshly and makes you look at him to prove that he wasn’t joking or playing around anymore.

his eyes held an intense and almost condescending look in them. kento had never looked at you like that before or during your acts of intimacy; he’s always gazed upon you like you were the light of his life. right now it’s more like he’s staring at a. . . plaything. like he couldn’t wait to take out his frustrations on you and your delicious body that he craved so intensely.

his jaw clenches as he sees your lips part to protest again. that’s when you decide to shut up completely. you look away and gulp—this side of kento was surprising, yet also extremely arousing. especially with the way his buff body was almost enveloping all of yours.

the veins that ran down his arm as he grabbed your hair bulged out even more, as did the little veins in his neck. it sure is a sight that could get anyone wet, you think to yourself.

“mhm, good girl.” kento nods in satisfaction and slowly lets his grip on your hair slip, though not fully. you had nowhere to escape to - not that you wanted to - but the fact that your hands were tied and your body was pinned to the wall by your lover made you squirm in excitement.

kento uses the hand that was on your cunt to unbuckle his belt. that familiar sound made you tighten up around air as you tried to steal a glance at his hard-on.

as expected, kento’s cock stood up straight, pre-cum trickling down his pink circumcised tip, a vein apparent on the length. his fingers wrapped around his girth and he pumps his erection a few times before standing in position right behind you.

kento wouldn’t just push inside of you without edging you first. he smears his pre over your folds, running the tip from top to bottom, one hand spreading your buttocks nicely so he could get a good view of what he’s doing.

“use your words for me or i will not do anything.” the blonde man utters whilst teasing you with the head of his aching cock — he wanted to be buried deep inside of your walls already as well, however not without you begging him to.

his grip on your ass tightens and your hips push back towards his in response, “please—please put it in already— kento. .”

your whines were certainly working on the grade one sorcerer. a few of his blonde locks fell in front of his eyes, the hair he tried his best to keep neat now turning messy the moment he dipped his tip between your pussy lips.

you instantly tried to grip onto his cock—clenching around him like your life depended on it. kento grunts and pulls at your hair again as a warning not to repeat that action.

“you asked for this, sweetheart.” kento grunts. that deep grunt made you tighten up around his cock again, your sloppy cunt wanting to swallow it entirely already.

that sealed the deal—your lover couldn’t hold it in anymore, “don’t want to hear any complaints from that mouth of yours, understood? now—”

you didn’t even have time to react as kento thrusted his entire length into you at once. one fast thrust was all it took for you to arch your back and loll your tongue out slightly, lips parted to let out a moan, though nothing seemed to come out of your throat.

“take it. just take it for me, yeah?”

it wasn’t a question - once again - more of a demand. you mindlessly nod along and kento took that as a sign to keep ramming into your cunt repeatedly. his hands traveled down to your hips to keep you steady against the wall, urging you to push them towards his a little by putting a palm on the small of your back.

kento’s low groans of pleasure sound from behind you with every single in and out movement — his tip hitting near your cervix each time, making his rough motions both painful yet pleasurable. your mind was foggy, with only thoughts about his dick. it was visible to your lover that you had turned completely cock drunk in such a short span of time;

“look at you,” kento chuckles as one hand goes to harshly grab onto your jaw, turning your head to the side so he could see the dazed look in your eyes, “i haven’t even started yet, darling — come on. keep those pretty eyes open for me.”

his thrusts became almost unbearable as his frustrations were now apparent in his actions. the loud skin clapping noises fill the hallway, your ass coming in harsh contact with kento’s pelvis, the flesh jiggling—which kento doesn’t let go unnoticed.

he stops for a few seconds - just before you were about to reach your climax - which makes you groan out in disappointment. kento doesn’t mind this and just continues kneading your butt in his large hands, keeping his cock right in your tight cunt.

“since you were so desperate for it,” your lover whispers whilst letting his arms fall to his side, leaving you completely untouched with the only stimulation being his girth stretching you out, “you’ll have to work for it. come on.”

you let out a huff, but knew better than to complain when kento had given you a warning beforehand. ‘no complaints’, you repeat in your mind.

you move your lower body, fucking yourself back on his cock as kento stood there behind you — watching you desperately move your hips back and forth, his thick dick disappearing between your puffy folds, only to reappear again and again.

it was a sight that could make any man cum on spot. the way you were glancing back at him to watch his reactions added to the pleasure.

“mhm, i knew you could do it.” kento nods in approval, his jaw clenching as he felt his balls tighten up, already wanting to dump a load into your greedy pussy.

you felt his cock twitch slightly and saw how his hands formed fists at his side — the veins on his forearms once again visible to your eyes. it was such a hot scene and you didn’t know if you were able to hold on much longer.

kento notices this and stops your hips from moving. he wordlessly picks you up by the back of your knees, still making sure to keep his cock inside of you.

your back was pressed against his chiseled chest, your legs bent at your knees as your feet dangled in the air. you knew what was coming.

“no, no,” kento groans under his breath as he effortlessly keeps your body up against his—his dick twitching and begging for its release to be buried in your womb—

“hold it in for me. you only get to cum when i say you can, sweetheart.”

[landosjpg]

fall back together | ln

the one where your ex-boyfriend invites you to spend a few days with him, but you two still have feelings for each other.

lando norris x fem!reader

word count: ~2.5k

warnings: pining, the tiniest bit of fluff i believe, language, smut, oral (f recieving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cockwarming

note: ehhh i don't really know how to feel about this but i wanted to post something, once again not proofread! also i have a looooong flight later this week so pls send in some requests so i can entertain myself during it! <3

you and lando had dated for a little over two years when you decided to call it quits. it wasn't messy; you two had mutually decided to stay as friends. and for the few months that you had been just that, it had worked well so far.

that's why lando had decided to invite you over for the monaco grand prix, insisting that you should spend a few days prior with him so you two could catch up and spend some time together.

as friends, of course.

it took him a few days to convince you, but you finally agreed. and that's why you found yourself walking down the corridor that led to his apartment, suitcase in hand. you could hear his giggles already from the other side of the hall, the sound bringing a smile to your face.

as you opened the door with the keys that he had insisted you should keep after breaking up, for emergencies (even when you lived in a total different country), you heard him talking.

"hey, chat!" you heard him say. you should've guessed he would use his days at home to stream like he used to. "guess who's here!"

you smiled as you walked to the room he was in. the fans had always loved you; you saw the edits they made of your relationship, how everyone used to lose their minds over the way you two looked at each other when you decided to make an appearance on one of his streams.

utterly in love.

and of course, you saw how everyone couldn't believe it when he had announced the end of your relationship.

it's not like any of you had expected it either, but you knew it was for the best or the relationship would consume one of you. but you were happy you had managed to make a friendship work, not really wanting to lose lando. and of course, his fans were excited to see you again.

he turned his chair around as you entered the room, his smile widening as soon as he saw you. you walked his way, happily waving at the camera. normally, he would grab your waist and pull you into his lap.

but this time he didn't.

so you stood there, right next to his chair. and as much as you knew that was how things were, it didn't fell completely right to you.

"i think i'm gonna head to bed," you interrupted after a few minutes in which you talked with him and with the viewers, answering a few questions just like you used to do before everything went down.

but after a long flight and a taxi ride to his house, you felt exhausted and all you wanted was to lie down and call it a day.

lando reached to mute his mic before he could answer you, turning to look at your face as he spoke.

"take my bed, i'll sleep in the spare room," he said. you were certain that the fans would try to decipher what you were saying later, but you didn't really care.

you thought about what he was proposing. it would feel weird, sleeping in his bed without him, so you weren't really convinced about it. and he must had seen it in your face, because before you could say anything, he added:

"come on, y/n". you're tired and the spare bed isn't even made," he looked at you with soft, pleading eyes.

you knew he still wanted the best for you, so you sighed in defeat and accepted his offer with a nod of your head.

after saying goodbye to the chat, you left the room to get ready for bed. as you went through your daily night routine in the bathroom, you noticed how everything you had left there behore the break-up was still in its place.

it looked like you had never left.

you tried not to think too much about it, there could be multiple reasons why he had decided to keep all your stuff. he definitely had moved on, right? it had been months since you two ended things.

you brushed it off, not really wanting it to get to your head and then walked to his room. everything was just like you remembered. damn, he even kept some pictures of you on his wall.

with your pajamas on, you climbed into his bed and covered your body with the soft sheets, the smell of him quickly washing all over you.

you rolled around with a sigh, the bed feeling way too big now that he wasn't next to you to wrap hismself around you. you were unable to sleep as your mind filled with all the nights spent in that exact same mattress between laughs, kisses and endless conversations.

you missed the feeling of his arms around your waist, the sound of his snores and the warmth of his body enveloping you every night.

with your mind racing with all the memories that wouldn't leave your brain, you realized it had been hours since you got in bed when you checked the time on your phone. the house was completely silent by that moment, so you figured lando was already asleep.

you sighed and got up, wandering to the kitchen silentely to not wake him up, with the intention of making yourself a tea that would hopefully help you sleep.

୨୧

sat on the counter, you contemplated the city lights with a warm mug of tea in your hands. the only light that illuminated the kitchen was te one that came out of your room. lando's room.

you were lost in your own thoughts, so you didn't notice his figure walking towards you.

"is that seat taken?" his voice made you jump a little in surprise, swearing under your breath as you turned to look at him, simply shaking your head in response. "sorry, didn't mean to startle you," he added with a chuckle, sitting on the stool right next to you.

you didn't really know what to say, so silence fell between you two while you just stared at each other. despite of it being dark, you could appreciate his messy curls, the spark on his eyes and the sly smile that beautifully decorated his lips.

"can't slep?" his voice was low and tender as he brokw the silence.

"bed feels too big."

at your answer, he just nodded. he kept quiet for a few seconds, pensive, and you could see that he was wondering wheter what he was about to say was appropriate or not.

"you know, as much as it hurts... i'm happy that you're moving on," he finally broke the silence, his words hitting you like a truck.

"i'm not... what do you mean?" you asked in confussion, but your mind was more focused on the fact that the possibility of you moving on hurt him.

"i've seen the pictures."

despite of the sadness that his whisper hid, you knew he wasn't mad at you. he had always said that he wanted you to be happy, whether it was with or without him.

silly of him to think that anyone else could ever make you as happy as he once did.

"just a friend," you mumbled, knowing that he was talking about the guy in your latest posts. but he was nothing more than a friend to you, not even close. "not really my type," you joked, earning a little smile from his lips.

once again, the silence felt deafening as he didn't give you an answer. your nerves were starting to kick in and so, in an attempt to try and make it feel less awkward between you two, you gazed back to the window.

"do you ever miss me?" he whispered again seconds later, the simple question making you freeze.

the answer was easy: yes, like crazy. but you couldn't just say that.

as he waited for you to reply, you felt his eyes on you, curious about what you would answer. and you swore he could hear your heart racing in your chest.

"sometimes, yeah," you finally decided to give him the truth.

or part of it, because confessing that it hadn't been a day in which he didn't cross your mind at least twice a day made you feel too exposed and vulnerable.

you halted when you felt his hand creeping up your legs slowly, stopping when he reached your thigh.

"i miss you, too," his murmur sent you a shiver down your spine, and he was looking up at you from where he was sitting, with puppy eyes.

you knew damn well what those words meant, and you felt your heart breaking at your own answer.

" i don't think it's a good idea, lan," you murmured, not able to hold his gaze for long.

"i know", he uttered, and you felt him sigh, but his hand stayed in your leg. "i'm sorry."

when you heard his simple apology, you closed yout eyes and tried to keep your tears from falling down your cheeks, but you failed miserably.

you knew he was apologizing for not being his best self during the last weeks of your relationship. at first, you had tried to convince yourself it only was a rough patch, but it was burning you down.

and, when you asked him for some time, he agreed. he knew he hadn't been the best boyfriend to you during that time, and he hated seeing you suffer because of him. so he ultimately decided to set you free.

"i'll never take you for granted again," he whispered, his hands cupping your cheeks and wiping the tears that fell down your face.

you hadn't noticed that he had stoop up from the stool and positioned himself between your legs, but having him so close again made your heart feel warm. and you looked down, knowing that if your eyes met his green orbits you'd throw yourself back right into his arms.

"lan..."

"i swear, y/n," he interrupted you; you could see his eyes were also watery, tears threatening to come out as well, but he held them back as he kept talking. "i know i fucked up, but it won't happen again."

closing your eyes, you sighed. your fingers softly wrapped around his wrist as you kept silently crying.

"please," his whisper made you sob, wanting nothing more than to go back in time and never let go of him. "i promise."

as you took in his words, your hand slid to his neck and he rested his forehead against yours. your breaths were mixing together and you nodded your head slightly, giving him your final answer with that small gesture.

before you could think about it, his lips were on yours. soft, just as you remembered, and you could taste both your tears on his lips. he kissed you slowly, tenderly, as if he didn't want you to slip out of his fingers again.

and you knew he didn't.

"i've missed this," he sighed in between kisses, pulling you a little closer, his arms now wrapped around your waist. "i've missed you, baby."

at the sweet pet name that you never thought you'd be hearing from his lips again, you exhaled with a smile.

"want to join me in bed?" you asked in a whisper, your fingers softly brushing against the skin of his neck. you wanted nothing more than to sleep next to him again, so close that one would think you two were literally attached at the hip.

"you're inviting me to my bed?" he chuckled as his arms went lower on your body, pulling you closer and picking you up from the counter.

"our bed," you corrected him with a giggle of your own.

he planted a soft kiss on your lips and walked you back to his room, wrapped in his arms. he lied you down on the mattress gently, keeping his body over yours. your gazes locked for a few seconds before his lips attacked yours hungrily, the tenderness of the previous interactions now long gone.

your hands roamed all over each other's bodies, clothes soon flying everywhere as both your breaths got heavier.

he started trailing small, wet kisses down your breasts and torso, his hands carefully pulling your underwear down your legs. he spread your open for him and positioned himself between your thighs, looking up at you from the edge of the bed.

you slightly nodded, giving him permission to go on. a long sigh left your lips as soon as you felt his lips pressing a soft kiss on your sensitive bud, and your fingers instinctively got lost in his curls, urging him closer.

"you're so gorgeous, baby," he mumbled, his hot breath against your slick making you moan softly.

you felt his tongue flatten against you and he started licking your cunt as if he was starving. a smug expression plastered on his face when your back arched as his lips found your clit again and he sucked, fingers tugging on his hair.

"fuck, lando..." you stuttered, your legs closing around his head as you felt the knot on your lower stomach about to snap. a small groan escaped his lips, his hands gripping around your thighs, surely leaving small bruises on your smooth skin.

soon, the warmth of his tongue on your pussy felt too overwhelming and your orgasm didn't take long to wash over you, leaving you a moaning mess under his touch.

as you came down from your climax, he got rid of his boxers and hovered over you again, his lips finding yours once more. as you tasted yourself on his tongue, you hummed contently into the kiss, your fingers finding their wait to his curls again.

"you alright, love?" he gently asked, taking a minute to look into your eyes.

"need you inside of me," you panted, your legs hooking at each side of his body as you pulled him closer.

he locked his lips with yours as he teased your folds with his cock, both of you moaning into the other's mouth at the friction. he positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed inside of you, letting you adjust to his size.

"so fucking tight for me, baby," his voice sounded breathless as he started thrusting into you without a hurry.

he took it slow, his movements almost lazy but deep.

and god, did it feel good.

you held each other tightly as he kept that slow pace that you two seemed to be enjoying. he reveled in the way your sweet moans filled the room and your nails drew crescent moons on his shoulders, your face contorting in pleasure as he stretched you out deliciously.

feeling your second orgasm starting to build up, your pussy clamped down on him, drawing him even deeper inside of you; which resulted in a low grunt from his lips.

"baby, i'm gonna... fuck..." you whimpered, unable to even form a proper sentence as the pressure in your lower stomach increased again.

"look at me, love," he groaned, and you did as he had asked.

with your gazes locked in each other's, it only took the two of you a few strokes to come undone, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt him cumming inside of you and leaving you weak under his body.

he collapsed on top of you, a little winded as he left a sweet kiss on your lips before moving to lay down on the mattres, pulling you with him.

"i love you," he uttered, his arms wrapped tightly around your body as he kept his cock buried deep inside of you.

"i love you, lan," you mumbled, your face finding the spot between his jaw and his shoulder as you caught your breath, feeling yourself slowly drifting off to sleep with your nose nuzzled on his neck.

[ilguna]

☼ whisper of the beast (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; on your own, you try to find your boyfriend in the arena. instead, you run across something much, much worse.

warnings; swearing, death, weapon usage, ehhh gore, blood mention.

wc; 2.5k

prompt; 11. "Just keep breathing. In and out. You're doing great."

—

There is something seriously horrifying going on with this arena, and each time you think you get close to figuring it out—it changes.

The only consistent factor in each of your theories is the jungle, and that’s because it’s the root of the fear. When you travel through the greenery for long periods of time, a creeping feeling grows on you, one that you can’t shake unless you make your way back to the beach.

Which is far from safe, itself. Especially since there are nine other tributes alive here, roaming around, hunting for lone victors. For it only being the second day of the Games, it’s remarkable that so many are dead, already. With six of them dying today, alone.

It makes you think that you’re being overly paranoid, because you’re out here by yourself. It’s a completely new experience to you. The first time around, during your Games, the Career alliance lasted up until the very last second. You never had to keep an eye out for yourself, because you had others with you that were doing the same thing.

You were under the impression that you’d be doing that for these Games, too, but nothing has gone according to plan. You and Finnick had a long discussion the night of the interviews on what to expect regarding corralling Katniss and Peeta into the alliance. Neither of you thought it would be easy. Worst case scenario, you’d grab one and he’d get the other, and the two of you would meet up somewhere in the middle. 

The Gamemakers really must have it out for you this year, determined to keep you and Finnick apart. That’s why they decided to put you on the opposite side of the Cornucopia, keeping you from seeing Finnick. While also putting Brutus in your water wedge, to ensure that you wouldn’t be able to reach him.

By the time you fought off Brutus and got to the Cornucopia, all three of them were gone. The only option you had left was to wait for Johanna and Blight, but with them still in the water and the Careers coming to take over, you had to leave. There wasn’t a choice in the matter.

Since, you’ve spent your time traveling through the jungle and taking the occasional rest on the beach, in the hopes that you’ll run across your boyfriend. The search was casual yesterday, as you were more worried about finding drinking water than the rebel alliance. Now that the numbers are spiraling, you know that the rescue plan is right around the corner.

You’re confident enough to say that they won’t do it today, but it’s got to be tomorrow or the day after. They won’t have Katniss and Peeta openly in danger like this for longer than they have to. You likely have less than forty-eight hours to find them, or else you’ll get trapped in here and taken by the Capitol.

You would say that you wish you had a general idea on which direction they went in yesterday, but it probably won’t make much of a difference. With the amount of people dying in these trees, you’re sure Finnick is directing them the opposite way, just in case. 

It’s another reason why you can’t stand to be in the jungle for long periods of time. From what you’ve gathered, at least half of the tributes that have died today so far, have come from somewhere in the trees. It makes you think that something is out here, and it’s more than just a rogue tribute.

In fact, it would make more sense for it to be a mutt of some kind. In the last Quarter Quell, they were everywhere. There was not a single animal that a tribute could trust to be friendly. On top of that, there were aspects of the arena that took them by surprise. 

It appeared to be the most breathtaking place imaginable. The Cornucopia was in the middle of a vibrantly green meadow, the sky a perfect blue, with fluffy white clouds. In the distance, there was a snow capped mountain, one that looked straight out of a picture book. On the other side, a healthy forest with plants you couldn’t name.

Of course, it was all too good to be true. The mountain was revealed to be a deadly volcano, the plants were poisonous, the water was infected with a disease, the insects stung and the flowers could kill when inhaled too closely. Everything that was placed in that arena was working against them.

Who’s to say it’s not the same for this one?

You pause next to a nearby tree to rest your feet, because they’re throbbing in your shoes. You lift one, stretching your thigh, feeling the immediate relief that comes with being off the foot. After a minute, you switch, but it doesn’t feel as good this time around.

When you reach up to run a hand through your hair to smooth it back, you find that your scalp is wet, soaked from sweating so much. It feels much hotter today than it was yesterday, like the Gamemakers are trying to boil you alive. It’s brutal enough being in here, do they really need to make it any worse?

You dip your head, eyes closed while you take a deep breath, sighing it out. You return to walking, paying attention to where you place your feet.

It might make more sense for you to go down to the beach and wait for Finnick, Katniss and Peeta to show up. The issue is that you’re not willing to take the risk of the Careers spotting you while you’re down there. The four of them could easily get you pinned down. You’ll be dead before you can call for help.

A branch rustling behind you makes your next step stutter. Your eyes widen, as you slowly look across the fern in front of you, to the left of your vision. With sensitive ears, you adjust the spear in your hand, turning your body halfway to look behind you, at the tree you were just standing at.

There’s nothing.

You take a minute to search the trees around you, backtracking to get a better look. Even if it’s just a critter, you want to know. If there’s living animals out here, that means there’s a water source—and you won’t have to depend on your sponsors to keep you hydrated.

There’s not a trace. At least, that’s what you think, until your eyes catch the hoof print in the mud. Your face contorts, you drop into a crouch to get closer, curious on what could’ve made a mark like this. As far as your knowledge on the jungle goes, there shouldn’t be anything that could leave this behind.

The goosebumps that crawl up your arms are involuntary, stomach dropping. The safety blanket that the jungle had been providing seconds ago, is gone now. There’s something in here with you, and it was smart enough to run when it made noise.

You raise your head, thinking about the best way to handle this situation, when your heart seizes in your chest.

What the fuck is that.

In one fluid movement, you jump to your feet, turning in the direction of the beach, and beginning to sprint down the slope. A screech cuts through the previously quiet air, piercing your ears enough to make you wince at the pitch.

And then you can hear it galloping behind you, hands and feet pounding against the spongy jungle ground. A scream rises in your throat, terrified to look behind you to see how fast this thing actually is.

You take the chance when you swing around a tree, stealing a glance over your shoulder. 

Whatever it is, it’s demonic.

You’ve never seen anything like it. It’s coming at you on all fours, there’s hooves where its feet should be, with long and pointed nails on its fingers. Its fur is so black that you can’t make out where its eyes are, or if it has any skin exposed at all. It’s a beast straight out of one of your nightmares.

It isn’t fast by any means, but it’s not slow, either.

You can hear it tearing up a path behind you, trampling through the bushes, ripping bark off trees. As the path between the trees narrows, the jungle becomes more condensed. You hear less of it coming in contact with the ground, thumping replacing the noise.

Until it stops altogether.

Your instincts take over, jerking to the right, shoulder slamming into the tree. You watch in silence as the beast flies by where you were a second ago, claws out and ready to latch on. It comes into contact with the ground about ten feet away, head whipping unnaturally to see over its shoulder.

“No, no!” You let out, beginning to weave through the trees.

A snarl rips through its throat at the idea of you outsmarting it. It’s coming for you, and there’s nothing you can do besides run for your life and dodge it each time it tries to attack. 

You play this game for what feels like an hour, but it can’t be more than twenty minutes. You make it half a mile down the slope, knowing that the beach can’t be that far away from where you are, when you realize that it’s gone. The monster that has been chasing you has given up.

You lean over your knees, mouth watering, throat beginning to close. As you gasp for air, your body tries to expel some of the heat by making you sweat, but all that’s doing is making you sick. You think you might throw up. 

Right as you’ve come to terms with losing all the water and food in your body, spit falling from your mouth in long strings, a shadow on the ground grows larger. Your face twists, thinking that something must be falling, like a leaf.

It hits you, literally, flattening you against the ground, head hitting the dirt. It digs in, nails cutting through skin as it tears through your back and arms, shredding your jumpsuit. A scream leaves your lips, a white hot and blinding pain smothering you all at once.

Your hand tightens around the spear, cheek against Earth as the beast presses into your shoulders, keeping you from moving. Still, with the small amount of mobility you have, you swing the head of the spear up, toward yourself, narrowly missing your left  shoulder.

It lodges into the beast, causing it to roar in pain. You shove the pole further back, hoping that it pushes into its body deeper. The weight on your shoulders disappears, you can hear it stumbling away.

In the window you have, you get back to your feet, ignoring the screaming pain your entire backside is in. You just need to make it to the beach, it’s not that far away, you’ve covered this distance in your sleep before. It’s harder to do, though, when every hard step you take makes you grit your teeth to keep from crying out. 

The beast is catching up with you, recovering from its wound. It’s faster than you are, and it’s completely disregarding everything in its path. Nothing can slow it down. You can see the golden sand through the trees, you’re almost there.

A body jumps out from behind a bush, making you run into it. For a moment, you’re sure that it’s an exact replica of the monster behind you, but once you realize that you’re staring at another tribute jumpsuit, the panic subsides. But only for a second.

“Move!” You shriek, trying to get around him. He grabs the sides of your arms, holding you there.

You look up, finding that you’re standing face to face with the male tribute from Ten—someone who is not part of the rebel alliance, and doesn’t care whether or not you make it out alive. When you glance over your shoulder, you can see that the beast is getting closer. It’s not going to stop until it gets its hands on somebody.

And it won’t be you.

The only choice you have is to sacrifice him, so that’s exactly what you do. You jerk him around, switching places with him, forcing his back to the beast. His eyes widen, mouth opening to say something, when you pull back from him, lifting your leg to kick him in the chest.

The beast takes him gratefully, landing on his back. He stumbles forward, struggling under the weight of the beast. You watch in horror as its jaws unhinge, revealing razor sharp teeth. It throws its head back, before whipping forward, mouth securing around the tribute’s neck.

And with no resistance, he rips out a chunk of the flesh. A spray of blood hits you in the face, and it coats the jungle floor. You back away with wide eyes, watching as Ten’s legs can’t hold him up anymore, body collapsing in the dirt beneath the beast.

A cannon fires.

You turn, making the final push for the beach before it can come after you, too. 

The moment your feet hit the sand, it begins to drag you down, keeping you from running as far away as your mind is screaming for you to go. You make it a few feet before landing on your hands and knees, sucking in sharp breaths and letting them out aggressively. 

That was almost you. That could’ve been you.

You try to crawl, hands forming in fists in the sand, tears falling from your eyes.

“(Y/n)?” You hear. There’s a headache forming, black spots coming to eat away at the corners of your vision. “(Y/n), hey.”

A hand touching your lower back makes you swing a hand up to get them off. Your wrist is caught, eyes meeting Finnick’s, finding him worried. 

“You’re okay, honey. I’m right here.” He pulls at your elbow to make you sit up on your knees. 

You grab onto his shoulder, struggling to breathe, “It—it… The—” 

Finnick takes your hand placing it against his chest. “Follow me.” He takes a deep breath, you try to follow, stuttering. He blows it out, you sob. “Come on, (Y/n). Just keep breathing. In and out.” You mimic his breaths, allowing them to even out. “You’re doing great.”

“Finnick.” You cry, head falling forward.

He cups your face with both hands, lifting your head. He’s only a couple inches away from you. “You’re safe with me, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” He wipes your tears away with his thumbs. “Do you want to tell me what’s in there?”

You look away, eyes too intense to stare into. “A monster.”

--

this was part of my 3k celebration!!

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff drabble no3. gojo as a cat dad

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ drabble summary. gojo tried to give you a little kitten as an apology, but you weren’t able to take it in, so he ends up becoming a cat dad. (note: for new readers, this is in continuation of my long fic gojo x reader series “kickoff”!! masterlist is linked below)

ᰔ main storyline summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. drabble #3

ᰔ words. 2.3k

a/n. hellooo!! this is such a silly little drabble lol, basically just gojo falling in love w a kitty. kickoff reader does make an appearance tho haha. this will be the last drabble before we move on to ch11 :) hope u enjoy!! <3

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1 :: ♬.*ﾟplaylist

“Wait what? He’s gotta get his balls chopped off someday?”

Gojo holds the tuxedo kitten, which as of two seconds ago is now officially his and shall be named mr. grand theft auto (mr gta for short) up into the air as he examines him like he’s some novel beast.

“Yes,” Nanami affirms on the other line before releasing a deep exhale, “at around ten weeks old, you’ll have to get him neutered.”

“How do I know how old he is?” Gojo asks, twiddling his thumb back and forth to give mr gta something to chase with his paws in an attempt to distract.

“You’ll have to take the kitten to the vet,” Nanami tells him. “They’ll need to check for fleas, parasites, and give any relevant vaccinations.”

Gojo scratches the back of his head and sets mr gta down on his desk, which the Soot Sprite runs to the edge of and almost knocks over Gojo’s half-finished can of Red Bull. Gojo picks him up again, and he hears a tiny little mew squeak out.

“Did you check with Suguru or Hide or Sota if they would be fine with keeping a cat in the house?” Nanami asks.

“No.”

“That’s the first thing you should do.”

“Ehhh I’m sure they’d be fine with it,” Gojo replies before settling mr. gta into the nook of his elbow and then grabbing his keys. He pets his pocket for his wallet, and then heads out of his room, down the stairs, and outside to the driveway to get inside his car. He plops Fluff Ball onto his dashboard, and then realizes he’s still got Nanami on the line.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he brings his phone back up to his ear, “did you say something.”

A long pause. “I’ve been giving you instructions this entire time.”

Nanami apparently had three cats growing up, it was one of the first things Gojo learned about him during some Icebreakers for Rush. But his knowledge is wasted on Gojo, who’s more keen on winging most things in life.

“Where did you find this kitten?” Nanami asks.

“In the bushes,” Gojo says as he pulls out of the driveway, “over on Main street. Took the scenic route on my run this morning.”

“And why decide to keep it?”

Gojo pulls his phone from his ear to check the directions on his phone for a brief second, a little too lazy to connect BlueTooth to his car for a seven minute drive. “Uh. Well, I tried to give it to y/n, but she didn’t want it. Er, she couldn’t have it, so, I figured I’d keep it.” He glances between his rearview mirror and mr. gta as he turns onto the street. “The little thing’s homeless and cute, so why not. Also kinda ugly, though. His fur looks like he’s been struck by lightning.”

Nanami sighs, then catches his breath briefly. “You found a dirty flea-covered kitten in the bushes and then tried to abandon it with y/n when she can’t even have it, and then abruptly decided you’ll take care of it? I would encourage some self reflection.”

Gojo gets to the closest veterinarian office he could find, mr gta in hand when he walks through the door with the jingle of a bell at the top, which his kitten becomes instantly intrigued with as it tilts its head up to the noise.

“Hi,” Gojo says as he approaches the receptionist desk, where he sees a girl probably around his age wearing bright blue scrubs sitting there at a catastrophically messy desk cluttered with pens and clipboards and certainly not enough space for the gigantic keyboard underneath the computer.

She looks up from her computer at Gojo, and blinks a few times in surprise before addressing him. Gojo wonders if she’s new to the job. “Hello! Name for the appointment?”

“Oh, I don’t have an appointment,” Gojo says, setting mr gta up on the high raised counter, and he feels the fur of his tiny tail brush against his hand before a tiny rough tongue starts to lick at his knuckle. “I found this kitten in the bushes, so I just wanted someone to take a look at him. Or her? I’m, like, 90% sure it’s a boy, but you guys are the experts.”

Crescents form under her eyes in amusement before she flutters her eyes back to the computer screen. “Sorry, we don’t take walk-ins,” she says as she busies herself with clicking sporadically across pixels that he can’t see.

“Can’t make an exception?” Gojo asks, setting his elbow up on the counter and mr gta instantly starts scratching at his skin. He watches her expression change from business to something else before pushing away from the desk, chair springing when she gets up from it.

“I can check with the doctor for you!” she chirps and disappears into the hallway. Gojo looks down at mr gta, who’s staring off in the direction she went before he starts licking his paw.

The vet makes an exception, but not without a twenty minute wait. Gojo briefly wonders what being a veterinarian would be like, getting to hold tiny cute kittens like mr gta—who, by the way, is indeed a mister—all day. But, he figures there’s probably downsides to it too, since not all their patients are probably as sweet as mr gta is when he gets his shots. Cute thing just winces a little from the needle then chirps a drawled meow before shaking his head and wobbling right back into Gojo’s hands at the edge of the metal table. God, Gojo was attached. It hasn’t even been three hours, and he’d already jump in front of an active shooter just to protect the little Black Ball with Mittens.

Well, some of the love diminishes when he realizes just how damn expensive the vet visit cost as the receptionist from earlier adds up services on her dated calculator with punches of her index finger on worn out buttons. Gojo pulls his wallet out of his pocket and hands her his credit card, and even though it’s just the plastic equivalent of cash, he still feels like it’s much lighter somehow when she hands it back to him. She prints out the receipt, licking her thumb to separate the customer copy from the office’s copy and hands the latter to him to sign. The puff ball tied at the end of the pen intrigues mr gta who swats his paw at it while Gojo makes quick work of his signature and hands it over the counter. He’s about to turn on his heel to head out the door in no need of the customer copy, when the receptionist squeaks out a wait and scribbles something onto it before handing it to him. He glances down at the ballpoint blue ink. The total that he paid in written out words, a large circle drawn around a free future check-up coupon, and beneath it, a phone number with a heart next to it. He finally clocks in on the flirting.

His now healthy kitten is captivated by the noise of the bell above the door again when Gojo makes his way through it, and then captivated by the sound of plastic paper crumpling in his hand when he tosses the receipt into a trash can outside of receptionist desk view. It’s not like he needed it, he can’t return vaccines.

“So you’re cool with it?’ Gojo asks, Suguru on the other line since he wasn’t home and he was the last one of his housemates he had to check with if keeping mr gta was alright or not. Not that Gojo would drop the little guy off at a shelter if one of the guys did say they didn’t want a cat in the house. He’d sooner drop one of his housemates off at the shelter than get rid of mr gta.

Suguru sighs through the receiver. “I guess it’s fine as long as you take care of it…but it’s weird, you’ve never cared much for cats?”

Gojo’s eyes flicker across the ceiling of his room as he lays on his bed, swinging his knee back and forth before adjusting his hand under his neck to get more comfortable. His gaze then flits down to mr gta, who is roaming the expanse of his chest and plucking at the fabric of Gojo’s shirt with every step he takes across it. Purring like a maniac where the sound is probably loud enough to interrupt Nanami’s wim hof breathing meditation exercises three houses down from here.

Gojo pulls the phone away from his ear and tucks his chin to look mr gta straight in the eye. “Dude. Could you keep it down? I’m on the phone.”

Electrocuted Puff Ball just stares at him and mews in defiance before using its hind leg to scratch behind its ear, then settles its head down on the center of Gojo’s chest, the rumble of purrs felt on his sternum.

Gojo brings the phone back to his ear. He considers how to answer Suguru, thinking can’t let the gang know I fw cute cats all of a sudden so instead he says— “I don’t know. It’s probably the cat parasite.”

“The what?” Suguru asks.

Gojo scratches the top of mr gta’s head as he puts Suguru on speaker then peruses a WikiHow article on his phone on how to care for babies. Apparently, skin to skin contact is very important, so he shoves mr gta underneath the fabric of his shirt. “Yeah, something about a parasite from cats that can infect humans and basically make us fall in love with them as some sort of survival strategy. I read about it on the mews—er, news. Mews? What the fuck. I just said mews instead of news. See?? It’s the fuckin’ cat parasite.”

He hears Suguru sigh. “Aight. Whatever floats your boat, dude.”

Gojo’s phone pings with a text notification, and when he sees your name flash across his screen, his eyes widen. “Uh, gotta go. See ya at home. Don’t forget the cat food.” And then he hangs up. Because he can’t talk to you and concentrate on anything else at the same time.

He sits up, catching mr gta when he falls towards his lap in the motion, and then he perches himself up on an elbow to read your texts.

|| 10:24am You: hi, sorry for kicking you out earlier today

|| 10:24am You: i was just a little sad about the kitty :(

He sees you typing, before the bubble disappears. He holds his breath. And then he sees you typing again.

|| 10:26am You: i’m on my period, so im’ a little emotional

Gojo blinks at his screen. Then his thumbs move to type.

|| 10:28am Gojo Satoru: Oh

He scans his brain for the right thing to say.

|| 10:29am Gojo Satoru: Are you doing okay? Do you need Ibuprofen

He feels mr gta’s warm little body press against his torso.

|| 10:30 Gojo Satoru: Or a heating pad?

Nailed it.

|| 10:32am You: aw no i’m ok!! thanks though :))

|| 10:32am You: did you keep the kitty?

His eyes flicker down to mr gta, who has fully fallen asleep in his lap. Dumb little thing. Doesn’t even know pythagoras’s theorum, or anything about the Roman Empire. Only knows warmth and whiskers. But if anything bad ever happened to mr gta, Gojo would probably end up in jail for the revenge he wreaks havoc on the perpetrators.

|| 10:24am Gojo Satoru: I did, yeah. Victim of the cat parasite

|| 10:26am You: cat parasite??

|| 10:26am You: what’s that

|| 10:28am Gojo Satoru: Some parasite that makes people like cats

|| 10:29am Gojo Satoru: [sent an article]

|| 10:29am Gojo Satoru: Saw it on the news

|| 10:31am You: don’t you mean

|| 10:31am You: the mews

|| 10:31am You: haha get it

|| 10:31am You: because of mew

He blinks at his phone screen, and then his lips purse. The cuteness aggression he has felt today is enough to kill a grown man, and he has to set his phone down to deal with the wide grin that spreads across his face from your messages. He rubs a hand across his mouth and over his jaw, to ease the sore to the cheeks of his muscles from the way he can’t help the stupid way he’s cheesing over you, and it’s almost embarrassing if it didn’t make his heart beat fast in his chest in the same flush way he feels at the end of a good run or an exciting soccer match.

And while he tries to contain his face despite the lack of any witnesses, except for the kitten curled up in his lap, he realizes it’s been minutes since he responded to you.

He falls back onto the bed, head hitting the pillow while he sets his hand holding his phone down on his chest to read your message. Mr gta crawls up from his lap to sit in front of his phone screen, and Gojo has to tilt his head to look past the obstructing view of his wispy floofy tail.

|| 10:35am you: sorry. was that lame :(

Mr gta meows incessantly at the phone as if in response to you. “Yeahhh I know. She’s really cute, isn’t she.” And then Gojo scratches behind his pointy little ear with his index finger. Mr gta entirely leans into the sensation, purring loudly almost on command before he’s meowing again in a tiny voice.

Mr gta reaches his paw out, pressing it against the bright screen of Gojo’s phone, typing nonsensical letters because he doesn’t know the English lexicon, or any lexicon for that matter other than purr and meow and hiss.

Gojo thinks nothing of it, until his paw accidentally presses the blue send button.

|| 10:37am Gojo Satoru: sjhdfhh

|| 10:38am You: huh?

|| 10:39am Gojo Satoru: Sorry

|| 10:39am Gojo Satoru: That was the cat

.

.

.

[the end]

a/n. hope u enjoyeeddd lol gojo as a cat dad was not in my plans for kickoff at all but this was fun to write alskdjdh i want a lil kitty so baaaaad </3 anywho, like i mentioned, this will be the last drabble from ch10 haha we shall move on to ch11 now 😼 but there will def be more mr gta appearances in kickoff bc that’s gojo’s lil baby now :”) thanks sm for reading!! love u guys

taglist: @megumisdivinedogs @witchbybirth @avatarl0v3r @mwtsxri @asherheed

@erencvlt @delulux3 @higurumapet @zombriesworld @xenop0p

@phoenix-eclipses @mo0nforme @reagan707 @lost-resonance @foulprincesscycle

@luniunia @alekssashka7 @beabadobeee @thexmistress @tsukikourito

@getitsatoru @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @btszn

@izayas-rings @semra4 @ethereally-lyann @bbyxxm @fvsm4x

@sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @banenemilk

@nanasukii28 @spindyl @ri-sa20 @thexmistress @mwtsxri

@v4mpieres @teramisuyhin @ritsatoru @megumisthirdog @sakui1

@angelicscribe @bloopsstuff @tetsuski @oh-dude @pickuptruck01

note: please send me an ask if your taglist preferences change at any time!!

[suosteacup]

Pancakes ~redux~

pairing: Kozume Kenma x gn!reader

genre: fluff

wc: 0.8k

tw/cw: post-timeskip, food, Kenma and reader are newlyweds here, one swear word from Kenma, kitten as a term of endearment from Kenma to you.

a/n: a rehashed version of an old Kenma drabble I wrote on @/mrskodzuken. Thank you Mari @littleplantfreak for betareading this AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ilysfm 😘 Star dividers by @cafekitsune + support banner by @adornedwithlight 🫶🏻 tagging @pixelcafe-network

The whole house is quiet on an early Sunday morning, save for some tapping and cracking sounds coming from inside the kitchen. A soft plop! can also be heard as Kenma carefully discards a stray egg shell away from the pancake batter mix using a spoon. He then slowly pours fresh milk into a liquid measuring cup until it reaches the desired level, before carefully adding it to the mixture. Next, he picks a measuring spoon nearby, unscrews the cap off a bottle of vegetable oil, and adds two tablespoons of it into the batter.

It’s unusual for Kozume Kenma to wake up early in the morning, much less cook breakfast, but today is very special; the reason why he woke up earlier today is to make you breakfast in bed—after a month of saying “I do’s” to each other, to make your favorite kiwi fruit pancakes with love.

He remembers something you’d said almost a year ago, while having a friendly date at a cafe just beside Kuro’s office one early morning…

“You know, Kenken? When I get married, I’ll ask my husband-to-be to make me pancakes like this one day,” you say to Kenma as you take an IG-worthy photo of a plate of kiwi fruit pancakes drizzled—no, heavily soaked—in maple syrup on your phone.

“Ehhh… really? Well, good luck to him, I guess.” He looks at you with a shit-faced grin plastered on his face. “That ‘one day’ is going to turn into ‘one week’, ‘one month’, and so on—ow!”

“Zip it, Puddinghead. As if I would force him to make pancakes everyday, you know?” you tell Kenma poutily, waving a forkful of pancake in front of his face before stuffing it up to your mouth. “I’m not that cruel~”

He sighs in defeat and smiles sheepishly before taking a sip of his latte.

“Okay, okay, if you say so…”

After slightly mixing the batter, Kenma adds the minced kiwi fruit that he prepared earlier and whisks it in until fully mixed. He then proceeds to dip a ladleful of the batter into the preheated pan, quickly shaping some of the corners with a clean toothpick to resemble cat ears before the bottom side completely cooks.

“Cute,” he chuckles softly, looking proud of his ‘artwork’.

“It sure is…”

Kenma suddenly jumps from where he’s standing, his golden cat-like orbs widening. He slowly turns his head around to see you peeking over his shoulder, sleep still evident on your face.

Your husband holds his breath in for a second before letting it go as butterflies start fluttering inside his stomach. “H-hi, Y/N, my love. Morning.” Fuck. Kenma internally slaps his mouth after messing up his greeting.

“Hi, Kenma, my love… g’morning~” Kenma feels your arms snaking around his waist as you snuggle closer to him from behind. He notices you looking at what’s into the pan and—Kenma finds this adorably endearing—your eyes twinkle as they widen a bit, sleepiness a thing of the past.

“Pancakes! And they’re cat-shaped, too!”

He hums and smiles, slightly checking the bottom side for any signs of browning before flipping the cooked side of the pancake with a spatula. Bringing his free hand to gently pat your head, he says in a matter-of-fact voice, “Did I also mention that they’re kiwi fruit pancakes?”

“Huh? Kiwi… fruit?”

Kenma feels your embrace around his waist getting a bit tighter. His cheeks gradually heat up as he silently continues on making another pancake, with you still hugging him.

He finally speaks in a soft voice. “Um… y-yeah. Because you told me to make one for you when we get married one day…”

“Oh. That conversation we had at the cafe that time…” You smile, both of you fondly remembering the memory.

“Yeah.”

Kenma silently cooks the remaining pancakes, the only sound heard in the kitchen is the slight sizzle of the pancake batter cooking. He feels your weight shifting from behind, strands of your hair tickling the side of his neck. He wonders if you can still feel his heart beating loudly just as he can feel yours.

“Y/N, kitten? Still sleepy? I’m almost done here, you should sit down and wait for me. Then we can eat breakfast together—“

A sniffle. “Thank you.”

“For what?” He then glances at your small form in alarm before quickly turning your attention back to the last piece of pancake, bringing the pan to a big plate sitting nearby before tilting it down, the cooked pancake sliding off and on top of the stack. Kenma turns off the stove. “Y/N… are, are you crying?”

You snuggle closer behind your husband again in reply—Kenma can feel a slight wetness forming at the back of his shirt, accompanied by a few sniffles and chuckles.

“Thank you for remembering. Thank you for coming into my life. Thank you for loving me, all my flaws and strong points. Thank you for marrying me. My bestest friend in the entire universe. My love. My everything… I love you, Kenma.”

Kenma holds your hand and kisses it softly, smiling. “I love you too, my Y/N.”

And he really loves you back. More than everything in the world.

Likes are okay, reblogs are nice, reposts and plagiarism stuff are frowned upon 🥰 | ALL WORKS BY SUOSTEACUP © 2024

[kolyubov]

Say your French goodbye

✧ pairing. pm!dazai x gn!reader

✧ word count. 1k

✧ contents. angst? petnames (sweets, darling), ooc pm!dazai.

✧ author's note. hai :3 this may be written kinda weird because i'm experimenting with my writing !! hopefully it's still enjoyable <3

Dazai wishes to enjoy this moment; you lying on top of him with his arms wrapped around your form, breathing slowly against his chest, your eyelashes resting against your soft cheeks, your lips parted just slightly— he's holding back from just grabbing your face and pampering you with kisses, aching to feel that softness against his lips.

But he can't. He can't even let himself enjoy your presence, trying to warm his whole being; his soul.

It's wrong.

He knows he shouldn't be this attached to someone.

When he lets his guard down, allowing himself to enjoy the company of another human, life takes them away from his path one way or another.

It's always been like that.

—

Your couch feels much more comfortable than his bed, naturally, and your apartment seems too colorful for his eyes in comparison to the cold steel walls of the container where he “lives”.

He wonders what you'll think if you ever find out about his questionable lifestyle.

“Osamu…”

Dazai's attention is almost immediately back to you, watching as you snuggle and rub your cheek against his chest with your eyes still closed. The way his name sounds coming from your lips has his heart skipping a beat… He’s ashamed you’ll feel how pathetically it beats for the sound of your voice alone.

“Something's wrong?” He whispered, not wanting to break the small moment of peace for you. His fingers slowly ran through your hair, twirling it a little at the ends. “Ready to go to bed, darl’?”

His uncovered eye was hard on you, carefully analyzing your body language for any indication that you felt uncomfortable.

“You're pretty silent… Is something wrong?” You ask, and Dazai doesn't answer your question, only letting his head fall back against one of your couch's pillows; his lips part for a moment, and just as he is about to speak, he closes them again.

All of this is wrong…

He knows someday you'll be ripped off his life, he can't avoid that fate that awaits him, but Dazai is more afraid of you ending up hurt because of his fault. Considering his position as an executive of the Port Mafia, many could use you in order to threaten him.

For your own good, he should let you live a quiet life.

Dazai places his hands on your waist, firmly pushing you off him to lie on his side instead, “Sweets, it's kinda late. Why don't you go to sleep, yeah?”

When he briefly glanced at your expression, you were facing him with a pout on those lips that he couldn't take his eyes away from.

“Why don't you stay? You can sleep here, on the couch, or if you're comfortable enough, maybe in my bed!” There was no hidden meaning behind those words, you really wished for him to take a rest for once, “We can even have a slumber party!”

“Ehhh… I don't have any pajamas and sleeping in a suit is…” He trails off as your hand reaches out for his arm, but he’s already pulling away and sitting on the edge of the couch, not facing you.

“I'll lend you my clothes! I have some oversized pieces that could fit you.”

Dazai rolled his eyes, amused by your attempts to make him stay. He didn’t want to keep inventing more excuses in order to avoid staying, but knowing how stubborn you were, being honest won't work either— If anything, it'll be much harder for him to leave that way.

When he was just about to get up, ready to leave and maybe disappear forever before fucking up your life, your arms wrapped around his waist from behind, trapping him with you.

“Please, stay…” You murmur against his back. The softness of your plea has him biting his lower lip anxiously as a storm builds up inside his head. He is a heartless mafia executive, so why's it so easy for you to grip his frozen heart and melt his resistance away?

Dazai's hands rest above yours, kindly trying to push them away, but your grip was strong— He wouldn't want to use too much force accidentally. The last thing he wishes to do is hurt you.

“Darling, I'm busy. You know how the mafia works. Can you take those cute hands away and let me go?” Seeing no answer from you, he gave your hands a few pats, “C'mon, or do you want Chuuya to punch my face for being late again?”

With that, he felt your grip soften, leaving him the opportunity to stand up from your couch. When he turns around to face you, a small chuckle escapes him at the sight of your defeated pout.

“Will you come tomorrow too…?”

Dazai purses his lips and looks away. Conflicted.

Both his mind and heart were arguing whether to stay and appreciate these moments with you before everything comes to an end or be selfish, spend more time with you, and put your life in danger for being in a relationship with a mafioso.

His presence is nothing but an inconvenience.

Maybe he wasn't meant to love, maybe he was never meant to care for another human being, at least in the way you cared so sweetly for him. He doesn't get along with most people after all.

“…Sure.” He replies, his voice soft as a hand reaches for your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin for a few seconds, enjoying the lasting moments.

Before he could leave, you pull him for a hug that leaves him stunned. Everything stops; his breathing, his heart, his mind— All because of your sudden display of affection. A hug was something he wasn't used to. It took him a while until his arms wrapped around your body, letting you melt against him.

No words were coming from any of you, just calm breathing and small caresses over each other's back in your dimly lit living room. The embrace lasted for a few minutes until you pulled away. Your eyes meet his, trying to see through him, wishing you could just tell him everything your heart yearns for.

“Take care, Osamu…”

Dazai gave you one last small smile, squeezing your hand in his hand before walking away, opening the door of your apartment, not glancing back, as he disappeared in the dark.

Maybe, one day, he'll figure out how to make his life less miserable; someday, he could let himself enjoy your presence without fearing the consequences of his existence.

Maybe one day he'll change.

© 2024 kolyubov — Do not copy, repost, or recommend my works on other platforms. reblogs are welcomed and appreciated!

[faintrustle]

You were wearing GOJO SATORU's favorite white button-up shirt. [Part 1]

🔞 FOR 18 YEARS OLD AND ABOVE ONLY! 🔞

One sunny morning, while Satoru Gojo was busy preparing breakfast in the kitchen, he found himself clad only in his usual comfortable pair of sweatpants. He moved fluidly through the task, humming an absent-minded tune, clearly unfazed by his somewhat compromising attire.

Suddenly, he felt a presence behind him. Turning around, he noticed you standing there, looking excited. You were wearing his favorite white button-up shirt.

The sleeves were rolled up to your elbows, revealing your soft, delicate arms. The top buttons were undone, exposing a tantalizing glimpse of your cleavage. The hem reached your thighs showing off those enticing smooth legs.

He also noticed that you had taken care to neatly tie your hair up before going out of the bedroom, giving him a clear view of your neck when he looked at you from behind. Feeling emboldened by the knowledge that you weren't wearing anything underneath his shirt after your steamy encounter last night, Satoru couldn't hide his desire and appreciation for you. "Well, well, well... look who decided to wear my shirt today."

“How do I look?”

Amused by your playful antics, he poked you with a teasing smirk. Watching you turn around, your hips swaying playfully as you flexed his shirt, made his pulse race. The fact that you weren't wearing slippers added an extra layer of cuteness and innocence.

Raising an eyebrow, he couldn't deny your appeal; seeing you in his shirt was undoubtedly a sight to behold. Grinning devilishly, your boyfriend replied instead, "You should wear my clothes more often." Determined to maintain control despite the temptation in front of him, he forced his focus back onto cracking eggs into a bowl, whisking them until they formed a frothy mixture.

“Ehhh??? You didn’t answer my question!” Feeling frustrated by his lack of attention, you decided to employ a bit of childish behavior to get his notice. Lowering your lips into a pout, you suddenly approached him from behind, your arms wrapping around his waist.

Satoru paused, acknowledging your presence. He turned his head, taking in the sight of your puckered lips and petulant expression. "Looks like the cat has finally decided to show some affection," he teased playfully.

"Alright then, Little Grabby Hands. What do you want from me?" Despite your efforts to appear innocent and charming, there was no denying the fact that something primal stirred within him at the sight of you.

Sensing the warmth of your body against his bare back sent a thrill of delight through him as if electricity sparked inside of his body. The rigid length between his legs ached for another round of intimate contact in the depths of your wet folds. A mix of desire and possessiveness coursed through him.

“I’m asking if I look good in your shirt.” There’s a slight annoyance in your voice.

"Ah, yes. You look rather delectable in it." Satoru’s Sapphire eyes twinkled mischievously then he added with a chuckle, "Just as scrumptious as this omelet I'm cooking up for us."

He winked charmingly at you before returning to tend to his cooking again. Caught off guard by his bold compliment, embarrassment painted your cheeks bright red as you hid your face on Satoru's broad back. A satisfied smirk played at the corners of his lips when he noticed your reaction.

You stood silently behind your boyfriend, watching his movements with intense interest. He was so controlled, so graceful, even while cooking. His muscles flexed under his skin as he expertly chopped vegetables and seasoned meats, every action demonstrating his mastery of not only combat but also the art of living.

You noticed faint scratch marks scattered across his otherwise pristine skin. A surge of heat filled you at the thought of being the cause of these marks, knowing that last night was filled with intense passion between the two of you. Gently, your other hand crawled from his hips to his back, tracing those marks with your fingertips.

As your fingertips explored the rugged terrain of his back, Satoru couldn't deny the surge of pleasure that shot through him. He was acutely aware of how close you were standing, your hot breath tickling his skin, your body pressed against his. Each touch sent electric shockwaves flowing through his veins, heightening his already ravenous desire for you.

"You know, if you keep doing that, I might end up eating you instead of this omelet.” His eyes sparkled with mischief, taking on a predatory gleam that made your heart race.

“Shut up.” You blushed like a tomato again. It was as if his words caressed that sensitive spot between your legs that you felt it throbbed. “Just speed up the cooking. I'm already hungry.”

"Fine, fine my spoiled little kitten." With a smile, Satoru submissively yielded to your childish defiance. While flipping the eggs on the pan, he felt a sudden movement against his side.

You wriggled and squirmed behind him, finding an opening to insert your head between his bicep and ribs. Looking down, he caught sight of your adorable face peeking at the food he was cooking. Damn, he loves it when you’re this so clingy.

“You should let me cook too.”

“You want to burn the house?”

“You—! But I just want to cook for you!”

“Oh, so you want to poison me?”

In retaliation for being teased so mercilessly, you impulsively bit down on Satoru's muscular back. The sudden sting and sharpness caused him to tense up so involuntarily that he almost dropped the pan. Putting the pan down, he turned to face you.

With a raised eyebrow and piercing azure orbs, he took hold of your chin and lifted your head to meet his gaze. "You're really asking for trouble, don't you, y/n?" There was a mix of playfulness and challenge on his face.

“It’s your fault for being so mean!” You’re standing in front of your boyfriend, pouting again with the cuteness of a stubborn kid. Your lower moist lip quivering slightly while you’re folding your arms across your chest, maintaining a defiant expression.

As he observes you pouting adorably, his heart races, and heat pools in his loins. He bites back a growl of desire, feeling himself grow increasingly aroused. The image of you biting him while fucking you rough only serves to fuel his fantasies.

"Not entirely, sweetheart." Desperation fueled Satoru’s actions as he roughly yanked you forward, pushing your upper body against his and crushing your breasts beneath that annoying shirt of his. His thoughts were killing him.

He still couldn't ignore the thought of you not wearing anything underneath his shirt. While he was cooking, his mind was consumed by erotic images of your naked body. The persistent bulge in his sweatpants grew more uncomfortable as he struggled to focus on cooking instead of giving in to his primal desires.

“H-Hey Satoru, what are you doing?”

You swallowed nervously, your heart racing as you felt his bulge press against your lower belly. A mix of intimidation and arousal swirled within you, causing your legs to tremble ever so slightly. Your cheeks flushed crimson at the thought of what was to come.

"I'll teach you how to use that pretty little mouth of yours properly." Suddenly, without warning, Satoru turned off the stove. Before you could register what was happening, he grabbed you by the waist and lifted you up effortlessly, planting you on the kitchen counter. His shirt rode up, revealing more of your bare thighs while you squealed in surprise and alarm.

The clanging noise of the pans behind you filled the air, echoing through the otherwise quiet house. As he towered above you on the kitchen counter, his blue eyes looked at you with feral hunger and pure lust. It was an expression designed to weaken the resolve of even the strongest of women.

“Itadakimasu!” Satoru Gojo purred before pushing your legs apart…

[To be continued…]

[gravehags]

unholy, unholy, unholy

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI

Tags: the ministry being the catholic church's evil twin, manipulation, masturbation, confession, copia lowkey being a desperate little sex freak my beloved

Words: 5,153

Summary: You really walked right into this, you tell yourself. You can't even be mad at Copia for suggesting it.

a/n: can't believe the last thing i wrote for these losers was at christmas...damn. anyway you know how i like my non-chronological shit so this takes place somewhere in between take me apart and satan baby. i'm not done making these two dance around their feelings just yet.

divider by @gothdaddyissues!

“Jesus fucking Christ Almighty.”

You slam your office door shut with your hip and Cardinal Copia turns to look at you from his seat.

“Need help?”

With a grunt and a shake of your head you walk past him and set the bag of food down on your desk, heaving a deep sigh.

“Had to go on a fucking scavenger hunt because the goddamn DoorDash driver left the bag with a maintenance worker, who gave it to one of Terzo’s ghouls, who left it in a stairwell for some reason…don’t ask me how I managed to find it because fuck if I know.”

Dramatically you flop into your desk chair and give your lunch companion a look as he begins to sort out your meals with a smile.

“You know you eh…take the Lord’s name in vain quite a bit for someone who wasn’t raised in religion.”

When he passes your container of Pad see ew to you, you grin.

“Ehhh you know, the perils of being raised in a predominantly Christian society. It’s funny, the first time I said ‘Jesus Christ’ I was maybe…I don’t know nine? Ten? And my mom tersely told me ‘don’t say that’ to which I replied ‘why not?’ I don’t think she knew how to answer that question in a way that would make me care, you know? I had gone all my little life not giving a shit about Jesus, why would I now?”

Copia chuckles and cracks open his own takeaway box.

“Ah cara, you continue to stray further and further from God’s light every day. Thank Sathanas for that, hmm?”

With a smile, you clink your soda can against his and dig into your meal.

“You ever think about how fascinating your religion is, Copia?”

You prop your feet up on your desk as Copia delicately picks noodles out of his box with chopsticks. 

“Eh, how do you mean?”

“Like…you’re a Satanic cardinal. You’ve sworn your life to uphold the tenets of Satanism. You…we live at a massive complex dedicated to Satan. One of many complexes throughout the world, apparently. And yet, barely anyone knows of the Ministry’s existence. It’s wild, really.”

He makes a thoughtful noise as he chews on a particularly crunchy piece of bok choy.

“Ah, well,” he begins, setting his chopsticks down and reaching for the soda resting on the desk, “we’re trying to change that. In…subtle ways.”

“Mmm, the Ghost project.”

“Sì, the idea is we use Papa to spread our message through music - something that is accessible to many people.”

“With the hopes that you and your evil brethren can dominate the globe?” you say, scrunching your nose playfully and giving him a big wink.

“Something like that,” he smiles wryly.

“Well I’ve listened to some of the project’s music and I gotta say…big fan. I think your sinister subliminal messaging is working on me.”

“Oh?” he asks, setting down his food in order to cross his legs and give you a curious stare. “Tell me more, cara. Do I have a future sister of sin on my hands?”

You close your eyes and laugh, missing the hungry way the Cardinal watches the line of your throat as your head tilts back.

“Maybe…let’s just say I’m intrigued. How could I not be when I’m surrounded by it all the time?”

He nods, resting a gloved hand on his knee and straightening his cassock.

“Perhaps…”

You fix him with a look you know will make him lose his train of thought for a moment. Positively wicked.

“Perhaps…?”

“Perhaps,” he clears his throat, eyes darting away from yours, “you would like to attend one of our services?”

You nod gamely. 

“Is a super cool and hip youth pastor going to tell me about the ways the Devil cares about me unconditionally?”

He rolls his eyes and fixes you with an unamused stare.

“Very funny, dolcezza. Would you prefer that I have you sit with Papa Nihil while he explains the history of the Emeritus bloodline?”

You balk. The wizened Papa had a distinct dislike of you for some odd reason. You often wonder how he manages to give you such dirty looks through his cloudy eyes. You didn’t particularly care, however, as you saw the way he constantly brushed off and mistreated Copia during staff meetings. Nihil irked you to no end, no matter how much Sister Imperator liked him.

“Alright, fine, sorry. I only jest to get a rise out of you, I know how important your religion is to you. And hey, anything that has the drama and aesthetics of the Catholic Church without all the guilt and trauma has my full attention. Please don’t be mad.”

He grunts but you see the way his mustache twitches as he fights back a smile. You flutter your eyelashes a little and in a moment of boldness, take your lower lip between your teeth. The way his mismatched eyes dart to your mouth and his jaw hangs open makes you giddy.

“I’m–,” his voice comes out as a hoarse rasp, “I forgive you, cara.”

“Thank you for absolving me of my sins, Your Eminence.”

He has to know you’re doing this on purpose at this point. You’re not sure what has gotten into you today but something about the way he stares at you now makes you want to grab him by his pellegrina and haul him over your desk for a sloppy kiss. There’s a heavy tension between the two of you, not for the first time, as if all one of you needs to do is take a step forward and all hell would break loose.

“So, you want me to go to a service? What like black mass? Unholy baptism? Virgin sacrifice?”

The spell is broken and briefly your swagger flickers, wondering if you’ve crossed a line.

“Eh, maybe someday but your statement about sin made me think…perhaps confession would be more suited to you?”

Now your jaw falls open and you can feel your cheeks light up as he watches you with a smirk toying at the corners of his mouth. The tables have turned and now you’re the one left speechless.

“O-oh?” you ask, voice a little higher than normal, “so if Catholic confession is about getting your sins forgiven, then Satanic confession is…having your sins…celebrated?”

“Corretto,” he says with a generous nod, “we’ll go through each one in ah…intimate detail.”

“We?” you squeak out, stomach dropping severely, “I hadn’t realized that you would be presiding.”

“Oh sì,” he says, the smirk on his face positively devilish, “although if you’d prefer someone else…”

“No,” you say just a little too quickly, your heart pounding, “I…I don’t know how much sinning I really get up to. I’ll probably bore you to tears.”

“You might be surprised, dolcezza,” Christ the nickname sounds devious on his lips right now, “What is it they say? ‘Still waters run deep’?”

Your laugh comes out just a little too loud and unnatural and you kick yourself.

“Ha…right. We…we should probably get back to this cataloging or Sister Imperator is going to publicly execute me.”

The rest of the afternoon proceeds normally, with the two of you diligently organizing the abbey’s collection of illuminated manuscripts. When you finally part, he gives you the date, time, and directions to the chapel where the confession booth is located.

“Cara,” he murmurs as you begin to walk away, “you don’t have to do this.”

You give him a half-smile and shake your head.

“I think it will be good for me,” you say, hands behind your back as you rock onto your heels, “and besides, how could I say no to spending an evening with you?”

You make sure not to turn away until you see the full breadth of his dazed expression and by the time your back is to him and you’re walking away, there’s a loopy grin on your face. It’s not til you turn the corner and reach the staircase to your quarters the full realization of what you’ve agreed to dawns upon you. 

Oh fuck.

You don’t see Copia the next two days between his duties and your own and for that you’re extremely thankful. The date of your confession has arrived and you’re equal parts nauseated and exhilarated. Having never gone to confession of any sort before, you’re not entirely sure what to expect. You’re not ignorant - you’ve seen confession scenes in the media and have heard from friends raised in Catholicism - but what little you do know doesn’t assuage your anxiety. This was Satanic confession. A whole different beast. Your mind conjures images of blood rituals and sacrifices and being on your knees before Copia…his gloved hand tilting your chin upwards to look at him…

Christ Almighty, get your shit together.

You desperately try to, as you sternly told yourself, get your shit together but your mind is clouded the rest of your workday with positively sinful scenes of the two of you. You’re particularly fond of the one where he’s got you in his office, your skirt hiked up over your hips as you bend over his desk and he pushes himself inside you from behind. The thought of his voice in your head, calling you his sweet little nicknames as he fucks into you, makes you practically drip. The final two hours in your office are torture before you’re able to skitter back to your rooms. You’re not meeting with Copia for another few hours and you need to do something about the ache between your thighs. Impatiently, you fumble for the buttons on your blouse with one hand while pushing your skirt off with another. You must look a sight, ripping your bra off and flinging it somewhere on the floor, but all you can think about now is getting to your bed. You almost trip twice in the journey to your room, blindly stumbling over and flinging yourself on the mattress. What has gotten into you? You’ve been horny before, about Copia sure, but this? The way you’re practically whining when your hands meet your bare breasts? You feel positively feral. 

“Copia,” you breathe, fingers pinching at your nipples. You imagine his hands on you, the way the leather would warm as he strokes your soft skin.

Dolcezza. 

Fuck, you can hear it perfectly and it makes you sigh, one of your hands slowly sliding down your body to cup the heat of you. You’re sopping and time feels like it slows as you spread yourself open and slide two fingers against your engorged clit. All of your frantic rushing from earlier ceases as you twitch under your own touch, his name on your lips. You’re so sensitive right now it barely takes anything to bring you over the edge, but, you think as your orgasm wanes, it’s not quite enough. Taking a slow exhale in you slip your fingers lower and tease at your entrance. The digits glide in easily enough with the abundance of slick coming from you and languorously you begin to pump them in and out. Your eyes slide shut and you imagine it’s his dexterous fingers instead, curling inside you so you can feel every stitch and groove of his glove. 

Cara mia, he’d murmur into your ear, so wet for me. So sweet for your Cardinal, eh? You honor me.

The whimpers crawling out of your mouth are getting more frequent and higher in pitch - you know you’re close. You bring your palm flat against yourself to push on your clit as your hips continue to make little circles, driving your fingers deeper in. Your hand is aching but it doesn’t stop you from pulling another orgasm out of yourself, chanting his name. Tears pool in your eyes and slide down your temples as you sob aloud and all of a sudden it’s too much. Your body spasms on the duvet, breath coming in harsh pants as you attempt to slow the thundering of your heart. It’s not the first time you’ve touched yourself to the thought of him, by any means, but something feels…different. More charged. You’re exhausted, bone tired as you try to organize your feelings. Reaching a hand up to rub your face you turn over and look at the clock. 

5:32 PM

Your eyelids are heavy but you manage to lean over the side of your bed and locate your phone to set an alarm. Some sleep would do you good. Clear your head.

You don’t dream.

—------

Cazzo, cazzo, cazzo.

Copia paces back and forth in the small, dimly lit (romantically lit, some would say) chapel. The last sibling of the evening just left and now all that remains is…you. He barely heard what the siblings were telling him this evening, so anxious was he and caught up in the thought of you soon being in their position. More than once his vision went blurry as he imagined you a breath away, separated only by the decorative wooden screen.

He was so eager for you to walk through that door, now he’s not sure. With a heavy sigh through his nose he looks down at his watch.

6:58 PM

You’re always punctual and he counts on tonight being no different. Resigned to his fate, he shuffles over to the confession booth and opens the door, slotting himself inside. Shit, his ass hurts from the hard bench, why in fuck’s name had they not added a cushion to this side like there was on the other? He’s grumbling to himself in Italian when he hears the chapel door squeak open and firmly shut. Your soft footsteps approach - you must be wearing your sneakers and not your boots for the distinct clacking sound he usually hears from you has vanished. He sucks in a breath when he hears you open your side of the booth and quietly shut it. There’s a silence between the two of you so profound that when you finally speak he jumps.

“Hey. You’re in there right?”

He makes a loud, vague noise and sees your shoulders drop through the screen. He can’t get a read on your expression but the anxiety in the air has softened with your posture. 

“Good evening,” he begins, a little stiffly. “Eh, welcome.”

You breathe out heavy through your nose.

“Copia, is this a good idea?”

He pauses and looks down to pull at a loose thread on his cuff.

“Are…are you nervous, cara?”

You let out a soft, self-deprecating laugh.

“Yeah, I’m fucking nervous! I’ve never even been to a regular confession let alone…this.”

“Well, we begin with the ceremonial bloodletting and–”

“Oh fuck off,” you grouse, flicking the screen that separates you. You fall silent after a moment.

“Cara, are you truly that anxious? Because we don’t have to do any–”

“I’m fine, Copia. Really. I don’t know why I'm so worked up. Fear of the unknown, I suppose,” you clear your throat and hears you crack your neck.

“Bene. Shall I go over the process with you? And remember this is a celebration. No shaming. No guilt. No wrong answers.”

You take a deep breath in and he sees you nod.

“I will start with the blessing and then we will go through the seven cardinal sins one by one. You may describe yours as briefly or lengthy as you like and we will venerate them. Once we have finished, I will close with a blessing. Then we will part. Nothing to be nervous about, eh? Are you ready?”

“Yes, please.”

“Very good,” he clears his throat and straightens his shoulders. “In nomine Padre, et Filio, et lo Spiritus Malum…we welcome this most sacred sinner into your embrace that she may revel in her transgressions against God.”

When he addresses you by name, he sees you jump.

“Let us begin with the Original Sin - pride.”

“Okay. Yeah. Pride.” There’s a few seconds of silence before he hears you softly curse. “Sorry, I should have made a list or something.”

“Take your time,” he says with a smile, simply content to be in your presence, “I have nowhere to be, cara. I am right here, ready when you are.”

He can see your eyelashes flutter as you look down and your cheeks bunch in a soft smile. Although mostly obscured, the sight still makes his heart soar. After a minute or so of silence you speak.

“Oh! Okay, uh pride. Well I was going to tell you about this anyway but…you know that little write-up I did of Satanic art in the time of the Counter-Reformation?”

“Naturalmente, it was superb.”

“Thank you. Well I thought it was too so I submitted it to a journal for publishing…and they accepted it.”

He can practically hear your grin and it makes him beam in return.

“Cara mia! Congratulazioni! You deserve nothing less! Although I hope you do not consider it a sin to rightfully celebrate an occasion such as this?”

You sigh.

“Ah, I don’t know. I may have bragged a bit too much to other people in the field. Felt a little too self-satisfied about it. So I think that would count, right?”

He scoffs.

“To Papa Frankie, maybe. To us it is a well-deserved acknowledgement of your hard work and something you have every right to be proud of. Dolcezza, even if you hesitate to celebrate yourself, know that I always will do so for you. Published in a journal, well done cara.”

He may not be able to see it in the low light of the confessional but he can picture your flushed cheeks perfectly in his mind.

“Anything else you would like to say on the matter?”

“No, that’s it.”

“Are you ready for the next?”

“Yes,” you say, with greater confidence, “let’s continue.”

“Onto the next. Envy.”

“Ah,” you seem to deflate a little and his brows knit together, “well about that. This…wow this is embarrassing.”

“No such thing as embarrassing at this moment. It’s a safe space, remember?”

“Right,” you huff, “okay well here it goes then. I see the sisters of sin every day walking around the corridors, working in the library, in the dining hall and…I envy them. I envy their bold confidence in their appearance and their sexuality.”

He’s silent for a moment, weighing whether or not he should say what he’s thinking. But you deserve to hear this.

“Confidence is not only represented by eh, wearing short skirts and high heels. I see you exude it every day when you’re bossing me around, no?”

You bark out a laugh and it lightens his heart.

“Truth be told,” he sighs, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “I’m not the best person to be taking advice on confidence from. But I know how to recognize it and I see it in you.”

“Thank you,” you murmur so softly he thinks he might have made it up, “can we move on?”

“Si,” he says before clearing his throat, “next one is wrath.”

He hears you suck in a breath through your teeth.

“Oh, I’ve got a good one for this. Well…not good. It wasn’t my best moment. But it definitely fits the bill.”

He makes a noise prompting you to continue.

“You know that new painting that Sister Imperator got at auction? The one of Lilith and Faust? It arrived last week and she asked me to oversee its unboxing. I told all the siblings working with me that once the box was open the painting was to be handled with archival gloves. I had to step out of the room for a second to talk to the head librarian and when I came back…not a glove to be found and the painting was halfway out of its crate. Copia I…I lost my shit. You know me I-I don’t get mad. But the fact that they had disregarded my instruction and got their bare fingers on that canvas, then acted ignorant about the whole thing…Christ, Copia I saw red. I don’t even remember half of what I yelled at them. I had to walk out before I did something I would regret. God, I already regretted raising my voice. I didn’t report them to Sister Imperator but she found out somehow…maybe the librarian? I don’t know what their punishment was but I haven’t seen them since. Copia, it was awful. I was awful.”

“With good reason,” he replies promptly, “they should have respected your authority as a professional in the field and by not doing so not only did they potentially damage Ministry property, but they also embarrassed themselves. Idioti. Though I would have liked to have seen you all riled up.” A confession of his own - Sathanas would he have loved to see you flying at them like a demon, your claws sharp and your words sharper. The thought sends a shiver of arousal down his spine and he takes a moment to gather himself before speaking again.

“Is that all you wish to say?”

“Yes. Can we please move on?”

“Very well. Next is sloth.”

You’re silent for a moment and his heart sinks, hoping you’re not dwelling too much on your last confession. He opens his mouth to speak but you beat him to it.

“Sloth, yeah. I, uh,” you let out a giggle and he’s relieved to hear it, “none of these can get me in trouble with Sister Imperator, right?”

“No,” he says slowly, a grin curling his lips, “this is just between us.”

“Okay good. Do you remember a couple weeks back when I texted you that I wasn’t coming in because I was having a migraine?”

“Sì…”

“I was lying,” the words blurt out of you in a rush but you sound almost gleeful about it, “I was so fucking tired and so cozy in bed and it was raining outside…I just couldn’t do it. Stayed under the covers all day watching Ghost Adventures.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he playfully chides, and he can see your shoulders shake with laughter, “Signorina I am stunned. Horrified, even–”

“Oh it’s not that bad.”

“Horrified…that you didn’t tell me so I could join you. I love those ghost hunting shows.”

Your laugh makes him smile in return, “Next time we’ll play hooky together, I promise.”

He sighs deeply. “Please. I could use it.”

“I know,” you murmur, “no one in this abbey works as hard as you do.”

“Grazie, tesoro. I appreciate your kindness.”

You make a warm noise of affirmation before speaking, “What’s next?”

“Gluttony.”

“Oh Christ,” you cringe, head falling forward, “Maybe…about a month ago? Primo came by my rooms and handed me a Tupperware container of brownies. Told me to eat one per sitting with a sweet old man smile on his face. I’m not an idiot, I heard what he grows in the abbey gardens but my God the stink that came off of these things. I knew I was about to get my shit rocked. So I ate my designated brownie and just puttered around, cleaning up the kitchen. All of a sudden, I’m flat on the floor in front of my fan having an out of body experience. I don’t know how long I was lying there for but by the time I hauled myself up I was so hungry I thought I was losing it. Went through a box of cereal, a sleeve of Ritz crackers, and the next thing I knew I was in the papas’ kitchen making a bag of popcorn. Don’t remember getting there and don’t remember coming back up to my rooms but the next morning I was tucked in bed. So weird.”

He chuckles nervously as if he wasn’t the one to find you wandering the kitchens stoned out of your gourd and put you there.

“Ha yes…weird. That’s…that’s all you remember?”

“Mmhmm. Talk about the devil’s lettuce. Was pissed I didn’t have any cereal the next morning, though.”

“Let’s move onto the next, hmm?” He’s a little louder than necessary but you don’t question his suspicious behavior.

“Yeah sure. Hit me.”

“Eh, greed.”

“Hmm,” you ponder and he hears the back of your head thunk against the wood of the booth. “Damn, this is a hard one.”

“It usually is, funnily enough. You can always skip it, if you like.”

“No, no, no,” you say, leaning forward, “I’m trying to get the full set, let me cook.”

That actually makes him laugh out loud. How he adores you so.

“Greed, greed, greed,” you mutter to yourself, “Ah…greed would include covetousness, yeah?”

“Mmm, is there something or perhaps…someone you have been coveting?”

It’s a leading question and he knows this as he hears your breath quicken. It’s at this point in his fantasies where you confess your adoration for him, where he flees the confines of his side of the booth to fall to his knees before you and worship you as Sathanas intended. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he tastes the bitter tang of his paints which distracts him for a moment when he hears you say–

“Yes. There is someone.”

The silence is deafening between the two of you and his heart thuds against his ribcage, desperate for you reach over and tear it from his chest. He flexes his hands, the leather squeaking as the both of you sit with the words.

“O-oh?” he finally manages to stutter. He can see your eyes are shut and hears you loudly swallow.

“I, um,” you begin, “yeah. There is someone I’ve wanted for…a long time. I…I think he–I mean they–might reciprocate but…”

Tell her, you fool.

“Can we do the next one, actually?” your voice is so painfully soft and his stomach drops. She is doing you a kindness, his brain cruelly provides, by not telling you of who she truly wants. A sibling, perhaps. Or perhaps…one of your fratelli. The thought pains him so he nearly doubles over on himself as if being punched in the gut. Pride, envy, wrath, sloth, gluttony, greed.

Lust.

He’s startled by the sound of his own voice and you are too judging from the way you twitch. From his obscured view you look positively horrified, as if you had forgotten about this one.

“I haven’t been with anyone,” you blurt out, sounding both panicked and deeply embarrassed. He hardly recognizes his own voice as he responds with uncharacteristic calmness.

“Lustful acts…do not always have to involve another person.”

Now why the fuck would he say that? He can see your eyes widen and even in the dim light of the confessional he registers the violent blush on your cheeks.

“Oh I…oh.”

You raise a hand up to rub aggressively at your face, breathing deep.

“In that case, yes,” you finally say and his gut clenches, “I have indulged in the sin of lust.”

“A-about the person you covet?” He’s pushing it but he can’t help himself, can’t help the hope that simmers in his belly and makes his pants tighten.

“Mmm…mhmm,” you respond and you open your mouth to speak but hesitate. When you finally do, there’s a new tone to your voice - something low. Sensual.

“It’s…good. Fuck it’s good. When I think about them I-I go a little insane. I want them so fucking badly and it’s so easy to think about them and what they could do to me. What I would let them do to me.”

His fist flies to his mouth to stifle the whine that threatens to escape from him and his cock throbs underneath his cassock. He can feel your eyes on him, see your lips parted and it makes him lightheaded. Focus. Focus. Go over there and fuck her against this goddamned confessional. Focus.

“Sathanas bless you, tesoro,” he finally ekes out, his voice hoarse, “in celebrating your body a-and your desire you have made Him proud. Well done.”

A beat passes until you clear your throat. He thinks if he doesn’t tend to his dick soon he’s going to pass out.

“That’s all of them then, right? Got the full set?”

“Mmhmm. You can go if you like.”

“Didn’t you say there’s another blessing at the end?”

Satan damn your ability to vex him when he needs relief…and you…the most.

“Eh, yes. In nomine Padre, et Filio, e-et lo Spiritus Malum,” Cazzo what was the rest of it? “Ah…Sathanas bless this most sacred sinner for reveling in her transgressions against God. Nema.”

“Cool, well uh. Goodnight Copia. This has been…enlightening.”

“It certainly has,” he mutters under his breath, fingers itching to adjust his bulge. He’s not sure if you heard him or not because in an instant you’ve opened the booth and skittered down the nave to the door. He doesn’t breathe again until he hears you firmly shut it behind you and within seconds he’s fumbling for the hem of his cassock. He knows the likelihood that you were talking about him is slim but simply entertaining the thought that it could be has him unzipping his pants with vicious determination. When his cock finally, blessedly meets leather he could cry with relief. He knows he’s dribbling pre on himself but he doesn’t care - all that matters is the way you sounded confessing your lustful actions to him and how it drives his fist back and forth. Oh, how sweet you were. Tempting even when you weren’t trying to be. How he would revel in ruining you. The thought makes him double over, his unoccupied hand pressed against the wall of the booth in an attempt to stabilize himself. When he thinks of you eagerly spreading yourself open for him a broken moan escapes his lips, hips rutting upwards into his grip. What sweet little noises you would make - right there, Copia, please, that’s it - your body eager to yield to his touch. 

“Dolcezza,” he grits out, “ragazza perfetta mia. S-so good–ah–for y-your Cardinal.”

His hand is a blur as it rockets along his shaft and he grunts into the silent chapel. He thinks of you looking up at him with that heart-shatteringly kind look on your face, your lips in a soft smile and he cries out, his seed painting his grucifix in desperate spurts. His mind is fuzzy but his hand doesn’t slow, determined to wrench every last drop out of himself until his head falls back and hits the wood of the booth. Groggily, he puts himself away and lowers his cassock before stumbling out of the confessional. His spend drips onto the stone floor but it matters little - surely it’s not the first that floor has seen. All of a sudden he’s exhausted - feeling every second of his five decades - as he blows out candle after candle. When his task is complete he trudges to the door and rests his forehead on the wood for a moment. 

He thinks of your smile once more.

[mayisgoingnuts]

Lee!Lucifer X Ler!Reader Scenario

Warnings: Some swearing but that's all, only did it for comfort.

Author's note: Lucifer. Brainrot. That's everything I have to say for now 😞🙏💞

————————————————————————

"Be careful with those, they don't get pretty all by themselves, y'know?" Lucifer says with a calm smile, which quickly shifts to a more "cocky" smirk. "Well, maybe they do."

You chuckle at his stupid comment, slowly returning your eyes to your main goal: his wings. A pair of wings was already amazing for you, but now three? No way you would lose the chance to check on them. See them, admire them, touch them...

You slowly caress one of them, taking a good look and with your eyes almost shining in amusement. "They're so soft..."

"Right?"

But as you keep stroking his wings and exploring each inch, you can hear a light snicker coming from him. He cover his mouth and looks away, not wanting to interrupt you.

"Huh? What happened?"

"N-Nothing, nothing. Just be extra careful there, alright?" Lucifer answers, looking at what people normally call a 'wingpit'.

"Ah... does it hurt? Sorry if I-"

"No no you didn't hurt me, it's just... ehhh... y'know..." He tries his best to explain without actually turning it even more embarassing, making a few hand movements aswell. "...sensitive?"

It took you a few seconds to understand, but once you did, your confused expression changed almost instantely.

"Oh, alright. I'll be gentle." But as you spoke, your fingers traced around that same spot once again. "See?"

Lucifer jumped a little on his bed.

"Okay, now this one was on purpose!"

"No idea what you're talking about."

The rythm of your fingers did not changed, basically dancing on Lucifer's wings. Everything he was able to do was cover his eyes with a single hand, using the other to grab the sheets tightly.

"Goddahahammit!"

"Wow, your feathers are so nice to touch... I could stay here all day." You say, wearing the happiest smirk you could have right now.

His superior wing flapped lightly as you kept tickling it, only making it worse for Lucifer himself as you now barely needed to move your hand.

"You better not hit me with those."

"It's really hahard not tohoho!"

"...was that a complain or a threat?"

"Bohoth- AH!"

You knew he wouldn't help himself, this man just loved giving you motives to keep going. As a consequence of his "rebel" answer, you let go of his wings, going straight to his ribs.

"H-HEHEHEY!"

"I just felt offended! I'm complimenting you, and you're threatening me to attack me with your wings? Tsk, tsk... not nice."

"COME OHOHON!"

Due his constant squirming, you decided to put a little pressure, pushing him down to the bed to make it easier for the both of you. His wings were so fun to watch too, it was almost like he was about to open flight.

"Just don't fly outta here." You joked.

His giggles and laughter were a mix now, creating this goofy yet adorable (in your opinion atleast) laugh of his. Lucifer kicked strongly in the air, trying to avoid using that huge strength of his on you and end up pushing you away; or worse, throw you away.

The demon's ribs began to have a bit more of mercy as you moved your fingers off of them, but only so you could reach his armpits. They moved very very slowly, tickling all the way 'til there.

"W-Wait! Wait! I- I knohohow what you're doing, dohohon't you dare!"

"Nothing is stopping me to do so..."

"Because I cahahan't! Hehehehe!"

You couldn't help but chuckle at his poor attempt to make it look like he's not letting you do that. "Will it make you happier if I pretend that I believe you?"

"Yehehes! Wait, nohoho!" Your teases were making him way too nervous to think coherently, much less speak. "Fuhuhuck, I don't knohohow!"

"If you say so." Just a few more inches before it hits a death spot... "I won't stop, because I'm evil and I love seeing you "suffer" with your oh, so "hated" tickles!"

"G-Gah- No- Nahahah-"

"And you know what would make me even more evil?"

"I don't wanna know! I dohon't wanna know!!"

It felt just like a button. You pressed his armpits, and Lucifer let out a cackle as soon as you did so.

He tried to roll from one side to another, and as he tried to protect his own weak points, it just made your thumbs get stuck there. All you needed to do was wiggle them, tickling them whenever you feel like it.

"SHIHIHIT! SHIT! SHIHIHIT! I CAN'T TAHAHAKE IT!"

"Just raise your arms, like that I can get my hands back!"

"THEN STOHOP MOVING YOUR FIHIHIHINGERS!"

You went silent, looking away with a bratty smile. "Now you're asking for too much."

"OH HOW I HAHATE YOHOHOU!"

It would be just a matter of time until you stopped and finally let him rest, but for that, Lucifer needed to grow tired of the tickles first.

No, you didn't need to "free him".

After all, getting rid of you was a task that he could've done as soon as you touched him.

He just decided not to.

[paused-waterfall]

Little Details of Feather Preening

I love reading fics in which a character with feathers gets help preening them from another character. I think part of it is because it explores the alienness of the winged/feathered character in a grounded, tactile way, while also exploring the dynamic between two characters. It's worldbuilding and character development all rolled into one! But another huge reason why I like it is just cause my parakeet sometimes lets me help with her feathers, and it's the best experience ever omfg.

I figured, for the sake of fic writers who don't have access to the cutest most patient bird in the world (and for me, who feels like rambling) I'd vomit out a ton of little details of what it's like to help a bird preen, and how it might translate to characters with both human and bird features:

(Note, this isn't exactly researched. My sample size is literally one bird and some casual reading about other species (sounds like crow feathers work similarly to parakeets, for instance: https://urbannature.blog/2022/09/23/the-unbearable-itchiness-of-moulting/). Please take this as an account of what preening a bird is like, and not as advice for things to do to a real bird.)

The exact term for preening something other than oneself is "allopreening". It's a social behavior and not all species do it. But if you're writing about a bird-human hybrid, ehhh humans have grooming instincts to add to the mix, so IMO the species of bird shouldn't hold you back!

Allopreening is most needed on areas the bird can't access themself. Wings and tails are mostly accessible-- the long feathers can be gently bent into reach. The back of the head/neck is the most prime location for allopreening. A humanoid trying to preen on their own would probably try to use a mirror to see what they're doing, and seriously tire out their arms reaching back there to do such finicky work.

Birds are pretty good at spinning their heads to see and work on anything below their necks, but an avian-ish character without that range of motion might need more help on the base of their wings, shoulders, and back.

My bird gets pissed when I so much as touch any feathers that are critical to flight (the longest wing and tail feathers). Care for those feathers is super important, and trusting someone else with that task would be a huge deal!

To request a preening, my bird angles her head at me, shakes it, and gently poofs up her feathers. If it's going well, she'll stay poofed up and maybe close her eyes.

A completed preening session always ends with feathers being shaken out.

Molting!

Often, the first sign of an impending molt is a fluffy down feather floating in the air. These feathers will cling to anything they touch.

The start of molting involves a lot of old feathers falling out, and some chill allopreening can be involved in this. Just lightly ruffling their feathers can help dislodge ones that are ready to go.

After getting rid of the old feathers, pin feathers start to grow in. They start out covered in a waxy sheath and with a blood supply running through them. While the blood supply is there, these are also called blood feathers, and damaging them can cause a lot of bleeding.

Pin/blood feathers are very sensitive. A wrong move can cause them to poke into the skin. Add this to the general vulnerability of not being at peak flight ability and the body's exhaustion at having to produce the feathers, and you've got an irritable and skittish bird. This is all a whole lot like a feathery version of a period.

Allopreening pin feathers is a lot more delicate than helping dislodge old ones. There's a careful art involved in telling which ones are ready to have their sheaths removed. Learning this art as a non-feather-haver involved, for me, a lot of sudden nipping from an unsatisfied customer. These days, I can tell I'm working on the wrong feather if my bird tenses up or glares at me.

Removing the sheath from a feather is SO SATISFYING. You take a dull-colored, irritating pin, and gently unwrap it to reveal a soft, beautiful new feather. Any time I see my bird all disheveled by pin feathers, it takes serious willpower to resist pestering her to let me fix them.

Non-molt preening!

Fully grown feathers also need daily upkeep

Birds secrete oils that they spread over their feathers with their beaks. A bird-person or their allopreening partner might choose to work other oils into the feathers, similar to how we use skincare products.

Feathers lost outside of the molting cycle can start regrowing immediately. However, a partially damaged feather will not regrow until it is removed or falls out during a molt.

Clipped wings are essentially damaged feathers-- an intelligent bird-person might be inclined to rip these out so that new, full feathers will be faster to grow... but, that would mean going without the partial feathers, and the gliding/slight lift they allow. That's a pretty big risk!

Hope someone gets some use out of this :) Happy bird-fic'ing!

[strniohoeee]

hii i was thinking you could do a smutty fic where y/n is the triplets bsf and she lives with them,and they go out to dinner one night and y/n was like wearing i very revealing dress and matt couldnt contain himself so when they got home matt went to hang out in y/ns room(alone) and he says something along the lines of “i looked so fucking hot today” and then makeout the session and then smutty smut smut,if u cant that’s totally okay love u and ur fics bae😝

Creepin

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: After dinner, and Y/N wearing a short dress Matt’s feeling a bit conflicted….and turned on??🗣️

Warnings⚠️: SMUT SMUT SMUT. There’s nothing like crazy crazy at least that’s how I feel, but uhhh they definitely FUCKIN🖤

Song for the imagine: Creepin- Metro Boomin, The Weeknd, 21 Savage

⚠️This is an 18+ imagine, so minors do not interact, or do??⚠️

And if you’re Creepin, please don’t let it show

Oh baby, I don’t wanna know

The triplets had decided to have dinner at a fancy restaurant for hitting 5 million subscribers on YouTube. They invited Madi and I.

I have never been out to a fancy restaurant, so I was so excited to play dress up especially with Madi! We both decided on wearing black mini dresses, and we looked so hot

As we walked out to the living room we hear Chris

“Can we get a little commotion for the dress!! Holy shit yall look good” he said

“Thank youuuu” we both said giggling

Unbeknownst to Y/N, Matt was struggling to rip his eyes away from her. The way the dress hugged her curves, made her breast pop and her legs look long and beautiful. He was struggling badly

We had called an Uber to to the restaurant, and when we got there Madi and I felt so fucking luxurious. I mean high ceilings, thousand dollar light fixtures, hot older men….we were having a blast

“Holy shit we could find a sugar daddy” I said to them

“Omg let’s be on the lookout” Madi said winking at me

It seemed like they hired good looking people here because the waiters and waitress were out of a fucking model catalog

“Nick I see a whole lot of eye candy for you” I said looking over at him

“You’re fucking telling me…..my mouth is on the floor” he said looking around

“The women are hot too” I said winking at Chris and Matt

“I’m seeing a lot of blonde….not really my type” Chris said

“Not really my vibe” Matt said looking at the girls

“Your fucking loss every bodies hot here” I said to them

We had a waiter who was the definition of a wet dream. Black slicked back hair, dark eyes, tan skin and sharp facial features

“Dude he’s checking you out” Madi said

“Ehhh he’s alright” I said to her

“Alright? That man’s so fucking fine” Nick said

“10$ says he will flirt with you when he comes back” Madi said

“You have a bet” I said reaching my hand across the table and shaking her hand

When the waiter came by he gave us our drinks, and came back to me to take our orders. Everyone ordered before me and finally it was my turn

“And for the beautiful lady?” He asked me

“Oh…umm I’ll have the steak, medium well, and what are the sides?” I asked looking up at him

He flashed a sideways smile before looking at my lips and reading me the sides

“I’ll do the mashed potatoes and the Cesar salad” I said closing my menu and handing it to him

“Great pick pretty” he said all flirty, and then walked away

“You owe me 10 fucking dollars” Madi said laughing at me

“Why do guys who I don’t find attractive always hit on me” I said rolling my eyes

“Because you’re hot, ummm you radiate feminine power and you smell good” she said to me

“Boooo boring” I said to her

“Ouu how much you wanna bet he’ll leave his number and give us some type of discount” Chris said wiggling his brows

“Alright let’s not use her looks to take advantage” Matt said chiming in

“The number maybe, but a discount I doubt look at this place too boujee” I said to Chris

We had all finished our dinner, and gotten dessert and it was time for the bill to come around

The waiter came up to me, and handed me the bill while winking….bold fucking move

I opened the check and my jaw dropped

“SHUT THE FUCK UP” I said laughing

“WHAT IS IT” Nick yelled

“He fucking gave me his number, and gave the whole bill 20% off” I said laughing

“NO FUCKING WAY” Chris and Madi said

“I just saved yall 100 dollars” I said passing the bill down to Matt

“Dude you’re coming with us everywhere” Chris said shaking his head

“You gonna call him?” Madi asked

“Fuck no, but if I want a discounted meal I might” I said shrugging my shoulders

“Ew what a fucking loser he put a heart next to his number” Matt said laughing

“I was thinking the same thing” I said laughing with Matt

We had gotten another Uber back home, and everyone went to sit on the couch to watch a movie, but I decided to go to my room because I was so tired

I had changed and took off my makeup, washing my face and had been scrolling on tik tok for 20 minutes before I heard a knock at the door

“Come innn” I said locking my phone and putting it down

“Hey” Matt said coming in

“Oh hey Matt” I said smiling at him

“Can I chill with you? They’re being so loud and annoying out there” he said

“Of course you don’t have to ask” I said as he walked over and sat on the bed

“Do you have any plans for tomorrow” I asked Matt

“Nah, I think they want to film a vlog” he said sitting in front of me

“Oh funnnn” I said cracking my knuckles

“You should come with to film” he said

“Maybe I have some plans tomorrow morning, but after sure” I said to him

“Ouuu plans with the waiter?” He said wiggling his brows

“Oh god no eww” I said laughing

“God you just looked so hot today in that outfit” Matt blurted out

“WHAT?” i said genuinely shocked

“I mean….uh I’m not sure why I said that” he said blushing

“I appreciate it, I really do especially coming from you” I said smiling at him

“Oh yeah?” He asked

“Yeah Matt. I have liked you for so long I have waited for the day you’d compliment me” I said to him

“I have liked you so much too…..I’m so glad we feel the same” he responded

“You looked so hot tonight too” I said batting my lashes at him

“I did?” He asked honestly shocked that I called him hot

“Matt you’re really fucking hot. Not sure how you don’t know this” I said laughing at him

“Just kiss me already you’re begging for it at this point” he said laughing

I rolled my eyes at him and grabbed him by his shirt pulling him in and crashing our lips together

When I pulled away his pupils were dilated and his breathing was shallow

“I have wanted to do that for so long” he said looking at my lips

“Me fucking too” I said licking my lips

I pulled him back in for another kiss, and slowly we started to make out. I eventually scooched down, and Matt was above me now

Kissing my lips to my jaw then down to my neck.

“Do you want this?” He asked me

“More than anything” I said out in a sigh

Matt began kissing my neck again, and came back up to make out with me again our tongues fighting for dominance as our teeth clashed together

I pushed Matt back, so I could remove my shirt

“No bra” he said tilting his head

“Oh yes my bad I was getting ready for bed, and wasn’t expecting to fuck you, so how dare I not have some decorum” I said sarcastically

“Shut up” he said biting his lip before kissing me again moving his kisses down to my neck, and then to the valley of my breasts slowly moving to take my left nipple into his mouth, sailing his tongue around it

“Fuck Matt” I moaned out

He then went to my right nipples taking that one into his mouth as well

As he was doing that he slid his hand down to my waistband, and slowly slid his hand into my underwear snaking his hand to my pussy

“So wet” he said before licking my nipple and taking it back into his mouth

I just mewled at this feeling so fucking good

He slowly started to rub my clit and then switched to my left nipple

“Matt this feels so good keep going” I said running my hands through his hair

He slowly slid his middle finger into my pussy stretching me out, and causing me to gasp at the feeling, slowly pumping his finger in and out of me. About two minutes later he add his ring finger in

“FUCK” I yelled out

“SHHHH” he says laughing and covering my mouth

“SORRY” I said laughing with him

He kept fingering me for a good two minutes before I stopped him

“Baby I need more” I said looking into his eyes, and he nodded

Matt removed his pants and boxers, and the removed my pants and underwear

“Spit” he said holding his hand out, so I did

He then brought his hand down to his dick slowly stroking it

“I could cum right now” he says rolling his eyes back

Once he got his dick wet he then came down and licked a strip up my pussy

“Oh my god” I said shuddering

He slowly slid his dick in, us gasping as he pushed in further

“Alright we have to be really quiet” he said bottoming out

“Yes baby anything for you” I said nodding

“Good” he said and slowly started to thrust into me

Matt was pounding into me and I’m sure the whole house was hearing it if they were out in the living room

“Fuck Matt” I said clenching down onto him

“Keep doing that baby, and I won’t make it much longer” he said as he thrusted into me

Matt then turned me onto my left side lifting my right leg up and started to pound into me

“FUCKKK MATT” I screamed out

“SHUT UP” he said and smacked my ass

“I’m sorry it feels so good” I said with my eyes shut and my brows furrowed

Matt kept thrusting into me harder and faster, and I’m sure everyone had to hear us fucking at this point

“Fuck Matt I’m gonna cum” I said

And he brought his hand down to my clit using his thumb to rub the sensitive bundle

“SHIIIITTT” I moaned out clenching down on him harder

“Come on baby give it to me” he said thrusting harder

Matt started to rub harder and pound into me harder

“IM CUMMING IM CUMMING” I yelled out and clenched down on him as I came all over him. My thighs shaking and my knees bending as my toes pointed…..this was the most intense orgasm of my life

“Matt Matt Matt” I said as I was still coming down from my high

He let me ride out my high, and then pulled out of me stroking his dick, and cumming all over my pelvic bone and lower stomach

His lower abdomen constricting and his body shuddering forward

“Fuck fuck fuck” he said as he rode out his high

He went and grabbed a wet towel to wipe me down

“Lets shower baby” Matt said

“I agree, and maybe round 2 in the shower” I said winking at him

“I’m do-“ before he could finish his sentence we were cut off

There was banging on my ceiling coming from upstairs….Nicks room

“STOP FUCKING WEVE HEARD ENOUGH” we heard Nick yell through the vents

“SORRY” we screamed back

“IM FUCKING SCARRED” we heard Chris yell back

“WERE SORRY WERE HEADING TO FUCK IN THE SHOWER NOW” Matt yelled and I smacked him

“FUCK YOU GUYS! YOURE SICK” Nick yelled back

We ended up laughing, and heading over to the shower.

The End

Hope yall enjoyed this one too, and I’m about to start my last request and then I’m going to post my own ideas for imagines🖤🖤🤭

-J💅🏽

[ryescapades]

can i request narumi x gojo like reader (like extremely overpowered and yk gojo stuff 😝) because ur dazai fics are just mwah! could they be and captain and they're vc is like suguru :>

thank you !!!!

limitless | kaiju no. 8

characters: narumi gen x gn gojo!reader

contents: sniper!reader, attempt at humor, fluff, some OCs, a lot of made up plots bcs this fic wouldn't exist otherwise (feels like i was world building ngl), reader's division number is not mentioned, narumi appears like in the second half of this, hint of rivals(?) + idiots to lovers

a/n: i hope i did your req justice, tqsm nonnie! lmk if you're satisfied with this or not (bcs im kinda not) almost made reader and their vc become a doomed yaoi couple just like satosugu 2k wc

"ehhh, another mission?"

your vice-captain, akira rolls her eyes at your grumble. "yes, another mission, captain. the higher-ups have requested for us to be there as soon as we possibly can, for the location is said to be in an uptown city of tokyo, a few hours from our base, so we ought to dispatch early," she explains.

"blegh, i bet the old man shinomiya is laughing at me right about now. we literally just returned from a mission like two days ago, akira! he sure loves working us to the bone!" you complain as your hand continues to work, cleaning the glass lens of your sniper rifle's scope.

akira throws a flat look. "maybe because we're the only unit in the defense force that specializes in kaiju intelligence? dummy," she says pointedly, causing you to wave her off. "nah, semantics."

she sighs, shaking her head. "in any case, we need to get ready now. we have to be on the move in about half an hour," your vice-captain's words go into one ear and out the other as your mind drifts away, thinking of how you can possibly sneak away to buy some nice treats while in tokyo.

hm, preferably those ringo apple-custard pies... your mouth waters at the thought.

less than five hours later, you find yourself strutting in the hallways of the ariake base, with akira following close behind.

"how many times do i have to remind you to tell me first if you wanted to make a detour mid-way," akira pinches the bridge of her nose, and you pout slightly. "i didn't even take that long, mind you!" you argue, though the way you dust off the sweet pastry crumbs off your lips doesn't really give the impression that you sound apologetic at all about it.

"captain, you keep forgetting that we have a meeting to get to. you should try to be more considerate towards others' time, you know?" she chastises, making you shrug dismissively. "you're too uptight about everything, akira. loosen up,"

already used to your petty remarks, akira crosses her arms and narrows her eyes at you. "what was that? you wanna take this outside, y/n?" the way she drags the syllables of your name daringly has you smirking, eyes glinting dangerously as you flex your hands. "oh yeah? and what if i say yes?"

what both of you don't realize is that you've walked far enough to reach general shinomiya's office, the sound of the double doors opening snapping off the tense rope that connects your challenging gazes together.

the two of you straighten up awkwardly, whistling a mindless tune and fixing your uniform respectively to pretend like you weren't about to start a scuffle just a second ago.

hasegawa, the one who had opened the doors raises an eyebrow curiously when he sees you and your vice-captain. "seems like they're already here, general shinomiya." he announces over his shoulder before giving a respective nod and taking his leave.

as you enter the office, general shinomiya gives you a long, pointed look. "you're late." your nose scrunches at the comment, "only by fifteen minutes. chill out, old man."

"what they mean to say is—" akira immediately speaks up, frustrated at your lack of manners, but shinomiya isao raises a hand with a shake of his head to interject. "never mind that. we have more pressing matters at hand,"

as he drones on and on about the details of the mission, you're barely listening to any of them when one particular statement catches your attention.

"do your surveillance for at least two days before you clean up and come back to report. i'll send in narumi as well for some extra hands."

like a puppy hearing the sound of kibble food being poured in its bowl, your head perks up in interest.

seems like this mission won't end up being a bore, after all.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

"akira... i'm bored,"

you can almost hear your second-in-command's teeth gritting against each other. "that's the sixth time you've said that, captain." she says, her voice crackling through your earpiece. "wait, really? maybe i should say it another time—"

"please, don't." she interrupts with a huff. "you don't know how many nights i've spent wondering how your impatient ass got this job,"

you're about to counter when a new voice chimes in through the comms, "they're good at this job, that's why." a smile grows on your face at the statement. "ren, of course! this is why you're everyone's favorite," you cheekily say.

your operations leader snickers at the quiet but still audible vomiting noises akira is making. "i'm flattered, captain. but i do agree with vice-captain akira. given how our division is all about stealth and patience, it is quite the surprise someone like you sits at the top," ren muses.

you click your tongue, the small 'tch' sound only providing more amusement for your two subordinates. "you deserve a headlock for that, ren."

be that as it may, you are indeed good at your job. appointed as the captain of a special intelligence unit for the defense force, your division is tasked to undertake any job that requires kaiju surveillance, where you discreetly observe and study the behaviors of these monsters, especially the new species before subjugating them once your task is completed.

where do you think all those official kaiju encyclopedia books and websites get their information from?

your missions are all basically just field trips, to be frank. you command officers who are specifically trained in stealth and espionage, with your sharp sniping skills second to none in the defense force.

your beloved vice-captain, the talented officer that she is, unluckily holds the job of patrolling the perimeter and taking care of any kaiju that happens to stumble upon where your sniping port is set up. can't have the sniper getting jumped now, can we?

pulling your eyes away from the scope, you mindlessly tap away on the side of your sniper gun. "anyways, how's captain narumi doing?" you ask.

the division has very few recruits every year, due to the fact that not everyone can master the perfect form of stealth and spying when it comes to such untamed creatures. with the unit being the only unique one, your officers are often dispatched at various locations at the same time.

thus, the subjugation after the observation is usually carried out with the help of other divisions. and that's where narumi comes in.

or rather, he actually does come in. like, legit.

"worried about me?" the man himself steps into the empty room of the desolated building you're currently positioned at, his bayonet held close to his side. your brows quirk in amusement at the question, "yes, actually. i was worried your... extravagant method of killing kaiju is going to get us spotted sometime soon,"

narumi feels his blood thrums in his ears. he doesn't know what it is about you, but every time the two of you interact, he just gets frustrated and bothered. how are you so... infuriating?

"excuse me? i know perfectly well how you handle your operations, thank you very much!" he exclaims.

"oh? is that so, akira?" you inquire into your earpiece, wanting to poke fun at the first division captain further. he tenses slightly as he's reminded of his recent kills.

a big tease just as you are, akira hums, "well, i certainly heard him gloating with the other officers after his first kill earlier. he was probably doing his usual egosurfing after that... and the second kill was obscenely loud too. and then there's the—"

"okay, i think they get it now, vice-captain." narumi cuts her off in a snap, crimson hues dusting his cheeks. you smirk, about to make another retort when ren's voice intervenes you.

"emergency, captain! there's a kaiju about less than two kilometers away from the town!" your pupils flare in alarm just as akira voices out her surprise, "wait, what? there shouldn't be any of them so close to the human settlement. is it a stray?"

without focusing on ren and akira's discussion, you sling your sniper over your shoulder and head out of the building, "i'm going after it," you announce.

as you walk past narumi, he grabs your arm to stop you. electric sparks jolt underneath the material of your suits and into your skin, though neither of you seems bothered enough to acknowledge it. "there could be more than just that one. i'm coming with you," he insists, unaware that he's leaning into your space to get his point across.

what is it with him and needing to be closer to you? narumi can never figure out the answer to that even if he was aware of it in the first place.

you didn't expect him to suddenly be all up in your face like that, so your hand automatically shoots out towards him, a palm splaying over his chest to hold him back. realizing how weirdly intimate the touch is, you move to pull away but your hand unconsciously lingers, dragging itself down the metal chestplate of his suit before finally retreating in a matter of seconds.

the loss of contact nearly burns you from the inside out, and you hate admitting that it's not in a bad way. not at all, not ever. something about narumi gen just flares you up deliciously, and you're more than happy and willing to crash into this man's blazing inferno.

perhaps you're just as hopeless as he is in that regard.

with a shrug, you throw a sanguine grin at him over your shoulder, "even if you weren't here, narumi, i can handle them just fine. this is my forte, and i'm the strongest one here." shivers run down the back of his spine, the knowing glimmer in your eyes almost making him visibly and audibly swallow.

he doesn't doubt that sentiment. not at all.

narumi knows how strong and skilled you are. if ashiro mina is known with her extremely explosive power, you're known with your hawk's eye trait. you're good at predicting just exactly where the kaiju's core is supposed to be, courtesy of the years of meticulously studying the monsters.

'how am i different to ashiro? hm, let's see... to put it simply, ashiro is the type to spam her high-damaged gun. like a reaaally offensive dps, you see. while i prefer to go with that one shot one kill style,' you'd often say. as a chronic gamer himself, he understood that crystal clear.

as the two of you exit the building and make a beeline towards the direction of the town, a few kaiju that you had surveyed just a few minutes ago turn their heads in attention when they hear your rapid footsteps.

your annoyance rises when they start advancing towards you, all feral eyed and inhumane. "sorry but i really don't have time to waste on small fries like you," you mutter as you take out your handgun.

the next thing narumi knows, their cores are precisely struck with your bullets, including the kaiju whose humongous tail almost swiped at you two from your common blind spot, one which he could've taken out. with his RT-0001 retina, he was less than one second away from handling it!

"oh, would you look at that! i saved your ass, narumi! ain’t i just the best?" you boast, causing his imaginative feathers to ruffle. the respond he's about to give doesn't get to come out, as you manage to irritate him even more.

"by the way, don't you think you should slip in some more trainings everyday? you play enough games as it is. at this rate, you're gonna get weaker than me, you know?" you remark before swiftly skipping away, your tongue sticking out in jest and leaving narumi to deal with his own agitation.

you're literally a menace in narumi's eyes, but his curiosity is boundless. as he moves to follow after your tracks, he keeps asking himself why he just cannot seem to stop wanting to get know you more.

nah i'd win, *dies immediately after*

ps i love when gojo made that digimon ref in s2 he's such a nerd pls. also there's like one hidden ow2 ref in there somewhere. like using pharah and widowmaker in regards to the difference between ashiro and reader

taglist: @maruflix @iamjellyfish @ouiouimochi @yueliie @justwinginglife @lumiambrose @minasfwoopyponytail @17020 (i hateee it when the tags are not working :c )

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[wooahaes]

late night chats

pairing: non-idol!bang chan x fem!reader

genre: fluff. silly lil fluff.

warnings: food. its just a silly lil fic abt making plans w chris. mentions of past panic attacks and a not great ex-best friend.

word count: ~1.2k

daisy's notes: oh to go see the tigers with someone i love......

Chris turned over to wish you a happy birthday right at midnight, for once in bed… Only to find that you weren’t there.

He pushed the blankets off, stretching as he sat up before slipping into his house slippers. For once, he was half-asleep (the things he did for you), and pushed himself up. With a slight sway, he rubbed at his eyes before groping around for where he’d thrown his hoodie… Only to find that it was missing, too. No doubt your doing. Not that it bothered him: you liked stealing his hoodies. You told him once that you liked the smell of his cologne, and hugging or draping his hoodies around your shoulders often made you feel closer to him. Sure, sometimes you’d wear his larger ones, but you liked draping them over your shoulders the same way he would sometimes while you were working. 

Easily enough, he found you in the kitchen, standing over a pot of ramen, a pan sitting next to it with nothing in it at the moment. You had tied the sleeves of his hoodie so that it hung around your shoulders, some video essay playing off of your phone. The carton of eggs sat next to you, and you reached over to pop it open.

“Birthday ramen?” He said, trying to make a joke out of it. Except you jerked back, a sharp gasp escaping you as you turned to face Chris.

Instantly, you were relieved, even though you likely knew how silly it was to be startled by him. “You can go back to sleep, Chris,” you said after a moment, turning back to your ramen. “I’m just hungry.”

“Nah.” He made his way over, leaning against the counter. “I’m not tired.” He paused, glancing down at your ramen. “... Do you wanna share?”

With a sigh of relief, you bumped your shoulder against his. “I don’t think I could finish this alone. You want an egg?”

Chris then watched as you cracked a few eggs into the pan—one for him, one for yourself—before changing the topic. “So… Any plans for the day?”

You shrugged. “I dunno. Bare minimum was taking the day off, and since I did get it…” You chewed at the inside of your cheek for a moment. “Didn’t think ahead past a vague ‘enjoy freedom.’”

He nodded along, arms folded across his chest. “We could… go to the aquarium.” 

“We went a few weeks ago,” you said. “With Felix and Jeongin.”

Ah. Right. It’d been your idea to invite the two. Chris hummed to himself. “Amusement park?”

“Ehhh.” 

“Oh.” He looked at you again, “Right, you don’t like roller coasters.”

“It’s not that I don’t like them—”

He shook his head. “No, I remember the story you told me. High school best friend forced you onto a ride you didn’t want to go on, and you had a panic attack afterward.” Chris frowned at the thought. You’d laughed off the story when you first told it to him, but it was half-hearted. He’d held your hand and promised he’d never push you into anything you were completely sure you didn’t want to do (and he’d keep holding your hand if you decided you wanted to try something). “Still can’t believe she fucking laughed at you.”

You shrugged it off, not meeting his gaze as you pressed your lips together for a minute. A few seconds later, you forced a smile. “Eh. It is what it is.” 

Except you deserved better than that, he wanted to say. Sometimes Chris imagined how different certain situations in your life could have gone if he had been there to hold your hand and speak up where you were too afraid to. He would have told her that it wasn’t funny. He would have split a funnel cake with you and called you cute. Maybe next time some of his friends wanted to go, he’d get you to go with him and he’d split one with you there and keep you company when they wanted to go on rides you didn’t like. 

Something stuck out in his mind, though. “... Zoo?”

Immediately, your head jerked up. “Hm?” But he could see the look in your eyes, a new idea planted right then and there in your brain. 

He giggled. “You’re like Berry when I ask her if she wants to go for a walk.”

With a snort, you rolled your eyes and turned back to the ramen. “Still…”

“If you wanna go to the zoo, we can go to the zoo.” He smiled to himself, already planning out the trail the two of you could take. He knew one of them was called the tiger trail, and, well… If the tiger plushies that littered your bedroom weren’t proof enough of your love of the big cat, everything he knew about you did. He shimmied his shoulders playfully as he moved his way over to you, “We could see the tiiigers—”

In the tiniest voice, you spoke up shyly, “... Could we?”

He just pulled you into his arms with a laugh. “If that’s what you wanna do! It’s your birthday,” he kissed the side of your neck before nuzzling his nose against it. “If you wanna see the tigers, we’ll go see the tigers.” Chris could feel the way your skin warmed up, and he just giggled again at how flustered you’d become. “Baby?” He turned you around to face him, caging you in between himself and the oven. “Say it.”

You buried your face into your hands. “You’re embarrassing.”

“I’m not gonna make fun of you,” he said, poking your sides just to see you jolt. “I just wanna hear you say it.”

Even after dating him for this long, you were still so shy sometimes. “Chris?” You peeked at him from between your fingers. “I wanna go see the tigers.”

He pulled your hands away from your face all too easily, peppering your face with kisses. “Then we’ll go see the tigers!” He held your face in his hands. “You’re so cute.”

You averted your gaze, and then finally spoke up after a few seconds, “takes one to know one.”

Fine. He’d let you get that one for today. Other days, he’d deny it and try to paint you as the cutest one in this relationship (truly, there was no competition in his eyes), but for today? He’d let you win. He just kissed you, warm and sweet, before drawing back. “Happy birthday,” he said. And then he pinched your cheeks one last time. “Gonna go see the tigers with my baby…”

You finally let out a groan, yet it was clear how much you still loved him. He might be a dorky mess of a partner, but he was yours. “We can go see your family, too, y’know,” you turned back to the stovetop to make sure nothing had stuck over overcooked. “There’s kangaroos.”

He just laughed, wrapping his arms around you. “Whatever you wanna do,” he said. “I’ll be right there with you.”

taglist: @twancingyunhao @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @jinnie-ret @cheesemonky

[hughes86-43]

Thank you so much for feeding the sway girlies🙏🙏 I feel like “I hate to ask this . . . but whenever I’m sick there’s a movie I watch . . . can we watch The Spongebob Movie?” Is something Jeremy swayman would genuinely say

(sway def needs more attention)

“I hate to ask this… but whenever I’m sick there’s a movie I watch… can we watch the SpongeBob Movie?”

-

Jeremy had called you twenty minutes ago on your way home from work saying that he didn’t feel the greatest. You stopped by the pharmacy to grab some medicine and snacks for him, and some snacks for yourself too.

You placed the bags on the counter and walked down the hallway to your shared bedroom to find your sick boyfriend. When you reach the bedroom, you find him shirtless in bed with the covers up to his neck and a washcloth on his forehead, while watching a random cooking show.

“Aw, babe. How are you feeling?” You walk over to him and put your hand up to his cheeks, that are a bit rosy.

“Ehhh,” is all you get as a response, but you take it.

“Okay, give me one second, I’m going to put your washcloth back under the sink to get it cold again.” He just gives you a thumbs up. As you take the washcloth of his head, you give him a small peck on the forehead.

You walk to your conjoined bathroom and run the washcloth back under the water. You turn back to the bedroom, taking off your shoes before walking back to him. You sit next to him on the bed and gently place it back on his forehead and he lets out a sigh when he can feel it cooling him down.

“I stopped by the pharmacy and got you some medicine and some snacks.” You run your hand through his hair. “I’m going to get the medicine ready for you, is there anything that you need right now?”

He nods his head yes at that. “Okay, what do you need, baby?”

He speaks so low that it’s like a whisper, but you manage to hear it. “I hate to ask this… but whenever I’m sick there’s a movie I watch… can we watch the SpongeBob Movie?”

You’re heart melts at how cute he is. You nod your head, “Of course, babe, let me go get your medicine and we will turn it on, okay?”

He gives you a small smile, and replies, “Okay, hurry back.” You get off the side of the bed and place another kiss to his cheek.

“I’ll be right back! Get comfy for me!”