#going back to sleep after clicking post lol

[dualumina]

Pride asks: 1, 10, 14 <- specifically with there being two of you have you impacted each other?

Pride Asks!

...warning it's quite lengthy

1. Which labels do you use?

For the sake of not needing to explain it twice, we essentially have two sets of labels each. One set that we use publicly, and one set that's literally between only ourselves. Why? The simple answer is that most people like to wrap their head around something definitive, something they can understand in a single sentence or less. Gay, Bi, Non-binary, etc. being examples of that. Our "private" labels are as nuanced as we want them to be because we don't have to worry about putting them into words for others to understand.

Most of the time, today is an exception.

Also just because it ties in more with the last question, sexuality and romance will be covered there.

Clay - Private label would be masculine-leaning non-binary. However, as I want to avoid people treating me as an "it" or some variation of an object, or just perceiving me as even more abstract than my existence already entails, my public label is thus simply a boy.

Dual - Private label would be feminine agender, mainly because there's no need to defy femininity norms when it's in the mind. Just as Clay can look however he wants within the mind, I can likewise "see" how I'd most want myself to look like, and I recognize both the lack of gender and the keenly present feminine traits. Unfortunately, people tend to latch onto what is there instead of what isn't. As a sort of pushback, my public label is a trans feminine boy. It illustrates that I don't connect with my body's initial gender enough to get the point that I want across.

10. Something that gives you gender euphoria

Clay - Uhh.. Dual's voice after the hormone treatments, I guess? I can "take over" using certain parts of the body if we're both feeling up to it (it takes a lot more effort than it's worth for doing daily tasks) and I had the worst time with speaking directly because I would freeze up after hearing the shocking disconnect between the voice I was able to produce vs the voice I knew was my own. And, well, now it's not exactly how my voice sounds like but it's quite close, and I think if we bothered to practice it could get better.

Dual - I can't do much about my hips considering they're bone and all, but after the chest surgery wearing skin-tight shirts feels really rewarding now. Even if most days we don't leave the house we're just in baggy pyjama t-shirts due to them being more comfortable.

14. How do you think other factors like neurodivergency or upbringing have impacted your identity?

Clay - Both of us initially assumed that I was asexual (we weren't familiar with what aromantic was at the time but in retrospect we also assumed I was that). It would only be years down the road when it was realized that oh wait, actually I'm demi-sex/rom. Given how infrequently I become close with others (plurality is often accepted less than any label under the LGBT+ umbrella, so.. our default for awhile was to hide it) and I might as well have been/be ace.

Shocking no one ever that Dual was the first person I became close to, navigating that aspect of demi-sex/romness was an interesting time to say the least, especially considering they were dating someone then, even if that relationship wouldn't last much longer.

I think realizing that probably would have transpired earlier if we didn't previously have various rules in place to "keep the peace" as we liked to call it. Intrusive thoughts can be a lot more.. hazardous when your home is thoughts, hence why the rules first existed. But in time they grew outdated, had to be changed, dropped entirely for some cases. Medication helped with the intrusive thoughts part, and we worked on the rest.

We're still nervously waiting to see if we'll get prescribed something at some point that severely limits my existence, but so far fatigue (that's experienced by both of us) has been the main albeit temporary detriment some medications have caused.

It's worth mentioning but I knew off the bat that I was male in some way, whether that's related to Dual's disconnect with their birth gender is something we're not entirely sure of. There were some polls done in the Reddit tulpa community several years ago that showed most tulpas are the opposite gender to their host, but I don't recall what the stats were for trans hosts.

Dual - Despite never really having been the type of Catholic growing up to spread the word and all that, I did keep certain values drilled into me for a very long time, like various things regarding sex, monogamy, avoiding temptations and the like. So here I was, an at the time cis straight-leaning female, with a guy now constantly around who was allergic to wearing clothes. I had to learn how to get comfortable with certain things real freaking quicker than my crumbling religious beliefs were made for. That's likely what opened up my mind to more progressive mindsets, especially after living in a small town with only one flamboyantly gay guy in my high school.

It's somewhat tricky to pinpoint exactly what sexuality I am, though I'm inclined to say demi-sexual, or androgenosexual, perhaps both. The joke I like to make is that I'm open to dating anyone but it has to be gay. You could be a straight cis anything but if we're dating it must be treated as a gay relationship lol

Can definitely say that the androgenosexual part of that (and likewise beginning to question the whether I wanted to date them or BE them mentality) was influenced by Clay being a painfully evident twink.

Romantic-wise, I wish I was aro. I've yet to be convinced otherwise that being demiromantic is a positive thing, because in my eyes it IS a curse. I want to have close friends and not worry that maybe I'll start developing feelings for them, potentially jeopardizing the friendship. This might be tied into the aforementioned religious beliefs about temptation, but it's more complicated than that. I don't believe all demiromantics are cursed, but in my own experiences completely separate from Clay, it's never gone well.

I recently learned that ADHD can, not only cause hyper fixations for fictional media, but also likewise bring about similar hyper fixations towards crushes.

Which unfortunately, explains a lot.

So while I know why these feelings happen, it doesn't change how intense they can be at times, how the impulsivity of ADHD means that sometimes I might do or say things I'll end up dreading after the fact, even if the other person doesn't think twice about it.

I know how creepy it can be to be on the receiving end of what could be considered obsessive behavior, so I'm actively monitoring myself around certain people, which incidentally was something I felt the need to do around Clay in the past. The only positive aspect of being an ADHD demiromantic is that hyper fixations come and go... I just need to actively suffocate myself until then.

It's one of the few things about myself I wish I could radically change. Maybe this isn't quite demiromanticness, but I can certainly say that it has only happened with people I consider to be friends.

[beeapocalypse]

thinking of situations and scenarios

[guiltyasdave]

like snow on the beach

pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

word count: ~2.8k

summary: You're on a work trip with your boss, who you don't like and who you're convinced doesn't like you either. Unfortunately, there's only one bed.

tags/warnings: only one bed trope (ayyyy), fluff, idiots in love, alternating povs, reader has hair that drips down her neck after showering at one point but there are no texture or color descriptors, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, my nonexistent knowledge of colombian geography which i'm asking you to ignore for the sake of this silly story THANK YOU

a/n: my entry for the summer lovin' challenge brought to us by queens @pedgito, @chaotic-mystery and @amanitacowboy <3 i got the moodboard you see in the header and the location by the water. i'm also posting a little early but i'm too excited and it's almost midnight here so i think it's gonna be fine hehe

biggest love to @sizzlingcloudmentality who held my hand through writing this and patiently listened to all my complaints lol. i love drinking more caffeine than pedro and writing with you while getting distracted by cats <3

dividers by @plum98!

find my full masterlist here and follow @guiltyasdavenotifs to get notified when i post a new fic :)

You’re hot, too hot. 

It’s disorienting, as you blink awake, slow to get your bearings. Arms are wrapped around you, caging you in, engulfing you in the warmth of the body pressed against your back. Hot air is fanning against your neck, accompanied by a scratching sensation on the sensitive skin. 

Your surroundings are unfamiliar, faded wallpaper in an unappealing shade of green and light filtering in through the battered up blinds. It comes back to you in pieces, the motel you’re staying at, the small Colombian town where you’re hoping to get a hold of one of the Cali cartel men. 

The obnoxious scent of Peña’s aftershave is flooding your nostrils, paired with the traces of tobacco that follow him everywhere he goes. It’s honestly embarrassing, how easily you recognize it.

It clicks into place now. The arms around you, the warmth. The scratch that you now realize is his mustache as he’s breathing against your neck.

You start wriggling around, causing the man behind you to stir, a confused groan coming out slightly muffled, his mouth still so close to your skin. He lets go of you after a second, allowing you to turn around and glare at him. 

His face is already forming his signature annoyed scowl, an expression that you’re more than well acquainted with.

“What the hell are you doing?!” 

He sounds different like this, voice still thick with sleep, a hint of the disorientation that you’ve shaken off by now. 

“What am I doing? I woke up with your arms around me, Peña.” 

He blinks, shifting to sit up and lean against the headboard. You mirror him, putting as much space between you as the rather small bed frame allows. 

“Sorry,” he allows after a beat, running a hand through his hair, tousling the mess of black strands that has formed in his sleep. “That wasn’t… appropriate. I apologize.” 

If you weren’t as annoyed right now, you’d probably think that he looks adorable like this. The you from a few months ago would most likely go wild at seeing Javier Peña right after waking up, after he held you in his arms no less. 

The you from a few months ago hadn’t experienced what an asshole of a boss he could be yet, hadn’t been taken off investigations again and again, because Peña thought you weren’t ready. She also hadn’t heard about his terrible reputation with women, hadn’t been subjected to all the office gossip that surrounded him yet. 

Now, after days of practically begging him to take you along on this trip because the whole investigation was based on information that you had gathered, you’re stuck in this motel room with him. Something about your booking of two single rooms accidentally having been processed as one double room, with no other rooms available because of course there weren’t. 

Peña had offered to sleep on the ground, or in the car, but you had waved him off, thinking about how often he had complained how his back was getting worse the older he got on the drive here. You hadn’t expected to wake up to him all but wrapped around you. 

Maybe a small, very small part of you is still going wild about it. A part that you can easily swallow down though. He’s objectively attractive, yes. Doesn’t change the fact that he’s an asshole.

“Just forget it,” you mumble, heat rising belatedly in your cheeks. Gathering your clothes for the day, you flee to the bathroom, eager to wash the whole decidedly weird situation off your body and out of your mind. You’re here because you have a job to do, not to get flustered around your boss. 

When you reemerge, wet strands of your hair dripping down your neck, he’s already dressed, clasping his hands in a way that almost seems nervous. If you weren’t pretty convinced that Javier Peña isn’t physically able to get nervous. 

“I– I’m really sorry,” he repeats, raising from the worn down arm chair he’s been sitting in. “I didn’t mean to put you in an uncomfortable position. I’m not– I’m not exactly used to sharing a bed.”

A scoff leaves you at that. Sure, Agent Peña, who’s notorious for sleeping with his informants and with at least half of the female staff of the American embassy, isn’t used to sharing his bed. 

“Don’t worry about it, Peña.” 

You turn away before he can reply, collecting your notes on the investigation that you hope will come in helpful eventually. You don’t catch the remorseful look in his eyes, or the way they linger on you as you open the door, the early morning light illuminating your figure.

It’s another day filled with nothing but waiting and growing frustration, just like the one before. The sun is beating down on the car that you’re occupying, the heat suffocating even with the windows rolled down and the cool bottle of water that you’re pressing against your neck.

Minutes tick by, turning into hours that go by too quickly and seem to last forever at the same time. Peña is surprisingly quiet, not goading you in the way you had expected him to. 

“Maybe the information was bad,” you mumble eventually, sinking deeper into the car seat. The leather is sticking uncomfortably to your skin and you can’t shake the growing feeling that you’ve insisted on coming out here for nothing.

He slowly turns his head in your direction, regarding you through the dark tint of his aviators. 

“I looked at it. We wouldn’t be here if it was bad.” 

You huff, your patience running short and shorter at the subtle indication of his superiority, his quiet arrogance, always so fucking sure of himself.

“You weren’t exactly thrilled about coming here, remember?”

He raises a brow, a hint of impatience on his own features.

“I wasn’t thrilled about you coming here.” 

You roll your eyes, openly scowling at him now. 

“It’s my intel.”

“Doesn’t make it less dangerous, does it?” 

Biting your lip, you force your blood to not boil over. He’s still your boss, at the end of the day, someone you probably shouldn’t start cussing out, no matter how openly he underestimates you and how badly it annoys you. And you’re gonna have to share that wretched bed with him again tonight. 

Javier watches your face, watches you swallow down your anger, watches your teeth digging into your plush bottom lip. He understands your frustration, understands that no part of this trip is turning out the way you expected it to. 

You’re still new to the workfield, not yet experienced with the hours upon hours of waiting, more often than not without a satisfying result to show for it. If he’s being honest with himself, he isn’t mad about it this time. He’ll rather have you frustrated than in danger. 

You want to prove yourself, you’ve made that abundantly clear. You work hard, determined to bring in results, hungry for praise. It’s not that he doesn’t see that, doesn’t think that you’re capable. But he’s seen enough, enough injuries, enough psychological trauma, enough deaths, to know that he wants you far away from that side of your work. 

Even if that means you’re angry at him more often than not, a glint of bitterness in your eyes every time he refuses to send you out yet again. 

After another few hours, accompanied by the increasing rumbling in both your stomachs, he finally calls it quits for the day. 

“We can drive back to Bogotá tomorrow,” he quietly offers on the way back to the motel, after picking up food for the both of you and refusing to let you pay for your share. “Gather more information, see why we didn’t find anything.”

You huff in return, irritated about the whole situation. The one chance you had to convince him to take you seriously, and this is what you get. “Fine,” you agree, gritting your teeth. Maybe your intel was bad. Maybe you just aren’t that good at your job.

“Keep to your side of the bed tonight,” you grumble later, after the bored woman at the reception told you that there still aren't any other rooms available. 

“Of course,” he sighs, sliding under the covers with the biggest possible distance from you.

You nod, closing your eyes and willing for sleep to take you, but it’s a losing game. You toss and turn, feeling both too hot and too cold at the same time, unable to find a comfortable position and to get the voices in your head to shut up. 

When you roll over yet again, his voice rings through the dark, somewhat agitatedly asking what’s wrong. 

“Nothing,” comes your frustrated reply, pressing your face deeper into the cushion, your eyes squeezed shut. After a few more breaths and zero sign of your brain slowing down, you turn towards him, only able to make out his silhouette in the dark. Your judgment is probably hazy with how tired you are, but the words are out of your mouth before you can think them over.

“Can I ask you a question, Agent Peña?” 

“Javier is fine.” 

Your heart gives a tiny flutter, despite your conflicted feelings about him, despite the question that you’re about to ask. 

“Why do you not like me?” 

It’s inappropriate, especially right now, lying in the dark and sharing a fucking bed with him. But you think that if you don’t ask now, you probably never will, and you need to know. 

“Why would you think that I don’t like you?” 

You huff, squinting at him. “It’s pretty obvious. You don’t trust my work, you never send me to go out, dismiss my intel most of the time–” 

It’s silent for a long time, safe for his quiet breaths. 

“That’s not–” He sighs deeply, turning his head towards you as well. “That’s not true. You’re making it about yourself when you shouldn’t. I treat you exactly like your colleagues, you’re the one taking it personal.” 

It’s curt, dismissive. Laced with carefully feigned indifference, bordering on coldness. Too carefully. You didn’t think he’d lie to you if you asked him this directly, but here you are. 

Blinking back angry tears, you roll onto your back again, unseeingly staring at the ceiling. You don’t understand why it hits you like this. You’ve had shitty bosses before, far worse than Peña. You’ve just never wanted them to like you the way you want him to. 

“Good night, Agent Peña.” You turn onto your other side, your back towards him. 

“Good night,” comes his solemn reply. 

You don’t wake up with his arms around you again, thankfully, but he hasn’t exactly kept to his side of the bed either. One hand is curled over your shoulder, like he had to reach out and hold onto you in his sleep. 

You’re the one taking it personal. 

Clearly he hasn’t been reaching for you specifically. It’s probably just second nature for him, something that usually goes well with the women sharing his bed. 

You’re able to shake his hold off without waking him up, something that you’re grateful for. 

When he wakes and repeats how he thinks you should abandon the investigation, you don’t argue. It’s a quiet affair, packing up and getting ready to leave. 

Sitting in the driver’s seat, he turns to you, his brow furrowed into that moody expression you’ve gotten used to. “I’ve been thinking,” he begins, eyeing you warily. “We’re not far from the ocean right now. Have you been to the beach since you came to Colombia?” 

You raise an eyebrow in mild suspicion, curious where he’s going with this. 

“I haven’t been out of Bogotá since I landed there. But–” 

His eyes grow softer, his hand twitching like he almost reached out towards you. 

“No buts. At least then it won’t have been a total waste of time to come here, right?” 

The dig towards you, towards the reason you drove all the way out here for nothing isn’t lost on you. You don’t have it in you to argue against it, so you just nod, staring straight ahead. 

Javier realizes how badly you misunderstood his words as soon as they’re out of his mouth and he sees your face. He doesn’t know how he consistently manages to fuck up his interactions with you like this. It’s not him, the blundering, the words constantly coming out all wrong, but you make him nervous in a way that he hasn’t experienced in years. 

He starts driving, hopeful to somehow still be able to turn this trip around. There’s a whole day on the road ahead of them, and he’d much rather spend those hours without feeling like he’s made you hate him. 

You do soften at the sight of the ocean, the sound of waves rolling against the shore having a soothing effect almost instantly. It’s beautiful, the water a brilliant blue, the sun glittering on the surface. You can’t be mad right now, not even at Javier, who’s keeping his distance, letting you wander along the shore by yourself. 

You focus on taking in the scenery, hoping to somehow take it with you to when you’re back in your bleak, government issued apartment, staring at the vastness of gray buildings that is of Bogotá. 

When you turn back to him, his eyes are already on you, less tense, more open than you’re used to. You don’t know how long they’ve been lingering on you, how little attention he had been paying to the nature surrounding you. How good it had felt, to see you like this, without the usual distaste in your face that you have come to regard him with most of the time. The silhouette of you against the bright sky, your skin glowing under the beaming sun. 

“Thank you,” you say, actually smiling at him. A spark of warmth grows in his chest. “This was a good idea, I– I enjoyed it.” 

“I’m glad.” He eagerly returns the smile, allows himself to reach out and graze one finger against the soft skin of your hand. Finding himself unable to stop touching you, now that he’s had a taste of it.

Confusion crosses your face before you quickly avert your eyes, but you don’t pull away. It gives him a sliver of hope, that maybe you’re starting to understand what he doesn’t know how to tell you. 

After a mostly quiet drive back, both of you too exhausted to talk much, Javier drops you off at your apartment, his hand once again hovering over yours before you get out. 

“Good night,” he breathes, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. After a moment of hesitation, he continues on. “You– you’re doing good work. Don’t beat yourself up over this, okay?” 

You manage a nod, murmuring thank you, Javier before opening the car door and stepping out onto your street, illuminated by the glow of yellow lights. You only realize that you used his first name by the time that your apartment door falls shut behind you. It doesn’t bother you as much as you thought it would. 

Breathing in the familiar scent of your own place, a deep relief washes over you, reveling in the knowledge that you’re gonna sleep in your own bed tonight, alone. You turn on your shower, eager to let the warm water soothe your muscles, stiff from spending the entire day in a car. 

When you exit the bathroom, wrapped into a towel and with a cloud of steam accompanying you, your answering machine is blinking. You press the button to let the message play, moving through your apartment to put on your comfiest sleepwear and ready to fall straight into bed. 

You stop in your tracks when Javier’s voice rings through the room, tripping over the words in a way that’s difficult to associate with the calm, self-assured man that you know. 

“Hey, it’s Javier. You– you’re probably showering, or already asleep. I just– I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings these past days, or– or any day, really. I wanted you to know that. You’re good at what you do, you really are, but– I worry about you, I guess. And I know that I shouldn’t, that I shouldn’t treat you differently. It’s– it’s not because I don’t like you. I like you too much, if anything, and– and now I know what it’s like to sleep next to you, and– anyway, I’m– shit, I’m making a fool of myself. Just– just call me back. Please.”

Your hand finds your phone as soon as the recording ends.

thank you for reading! as always, reblogs, comments and asks are love and absolutely make my day <3

[hysteria-things]

(say the reader is famous also, but not an influencer—maybe like a well known model) hear me out, being close friends with madi and you guys end up moving in together and getting your first apartment

and you come home later than usual one night after ‘hanging out’ with matt and madi knows something is up just by the way you’re walking all slow and stuff and you eventually tell her that you had sex with matt for the first time and she’s just like “omgggggg????? tell me EVERYTHING!” and despite not being able to laugh too hard or else you’ll feel like your pussy is going to rip open LOL you two are just sitting on the couch giggle and talking about the whole thing

PERFECT

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: soft dom!matt x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: although you’re a well-known model, you’ve been feeling insecure about your body lately. matt thinks it’s bogus, and wants to prove you wrong.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, insecurity, praising, oral (female receiving), pet names, p in v

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,075

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i kind of hate this😔

before you and matthew sturniolo started seeing each other, he would always lurk on your instagram page. the two of you met through madi, who is your best friend. you guys met at an event a few years ago and clicked instantly. fast forward to today’s time, where you now share an apartment.

you noticed matt being subtle on your page at the beginning of whatever you guys have going on. no, it’s not friends with benefits, being that you guys haven’t had sex yet. he would leave comments such as fire emojis or hypes until he was brave enough to text you a few months ago. that’s how your relationship came to be. nobody knows about it, not even madi or his brothers. you guys made the mutual decision to keep it on the down low for now.

walking through the boy’s bedroom door, you go over to the side of the bed that you sleep on, gathering some of your belongings. you just got back from a photoshoot. being a model has its ups and downs, especially when you’re on the chubbier side. you get a lot of praise from your fans, saying how you’re an inspiration. sometimes, however, it can be frustrating.

“i don’t get a kiss or even a hug?” matt says, who looks away from his phone to stare at you putting your stuff in the overnight bag you always bring.

you look over your shoulder and smile. “sorry.”

as you’re placing the bag down, he’s already sat up and sitting at the end of the bed. you go to kiss him on the temple, but instead, he pulls you over his lap to where you straddle him — although you hover a bit.

he pouts. “you’re not staying the night again?”

shaking your head, you brush a piece of hair away from his face. “i told madi i’ll be home tonight. i feel bad whenever i leave her alone, and i can’t keep up with the ‘my mom needs me to sleepover’ excuse.”

a sigh comes out as more of a groan, his lips traveling to your jaw, pecking down your neck and nipping at the skin. “you can’t put marks, matt.” you say in a whine as he reaches your sweet spot. you take a look at the clock on the nightstand, reading 9:14 pm. “it’s getting late and i have to go. i mean it.”

you get out of his grasp, another sigh leaving his body more dramatically.

matt furrows his eyebrows; something’s not right. he can sense something is bothering you, he just can’t put his finger on it. “what’s wrong?”

laughing nervously, you shake your head. “i’ll get over it.”

“that’s not what i asked— hey.” when you ignore him, he grabs your wrist to turn you around. “look at me, please. tell me what’s bothering you.”

you hate how matt’s so good at this game. he can tell when you’re upset, even in the slightest way possible. you can sugarcoat your true feelings with fake happiness, and he’ll still notice that something isn’t right.

on occasion, you like to look at comments under the recent posts that you make. most of the comments are positive, but one of the downsides of the modeling community is the negative ones. you try your best to ignore them, but sometimes they hurt. this is one of those times.

“i don’t like my body.” you barely whisper, fidgeting with his necklace as you think back to the haters.

“what?” he asks confused.

“forget about it.” you start, tugging at your hoodie sleeves. “seriously, i’ll get over it. it’s stupid people saying shit online. it happens to everybody. it’s fine.”

you do love your job, don’t get yourself wrong, but showing off your body in lingerie as a career can attract the wrong people. in general, it’s quite nerve-wracking. he kisses your cheek before his breath is against your ear. “you’re fucking gorgeous.” he bites the lobe. “let me show you, hm?”

his fingertips brush from your thighs to the hem of your shirt. “can i?” a pulsing sensation starts between your legs, taking your bottom lip with your teeth and nodding.

your shirt ends up on the floor, matt reaching behind your back to unclip your bra that ends up where your other piece of clothing is. he stares, a wide grin plastering his face. “shit.” he says lowly, squeezing your breasts before running his hands down to the buttons of your shorts. the pulsing remains, becoming much stronger.

heart thumping, you don’t make a peep as your shorts and underwear drop to the ground. you’re refusing to look down at your body, but that’s all matt is admiring. a chill runs up your spine as his lips kiss your flesh like before, but it’s more heated while you’re naked and he’s still fully clothed.

they trail to your tits, matt kneeling to reach your stomach and kissing your stretch marks, too. “so pretty.” he mumbles, ending at your thighs and repeating these actions until you’re face to face again.

going over to the bed, he lays back flat and gestures for you to come over as well. you hesitate but do so. he maneuvers your body to hover over him, or in this case, over his face. “i don’t want to hurt you.” you whine, knowing what he wants you to do.

the eye roll is so intense that it’s like you said the most out-of-pocket thing he’s ever heard in his life. “you’re soaked.” he exhales. “all of this for me?”

pink creeps on your cheeks and you nod like how you did before. being so turned on makes it almost impossible to speak. squeezing your plush thighs to keep you in place, he lowers you onto his mouth.

a gasp falls past your lips, his tongue flicking at your folds. you want to get pressure off of him at least a little bit, but he has you fully sat on his face, and he fucking loves it. soft moans along with the slurping noise fill the room, matt’s head shaking at times to feel all of you on his tongue. your pussy tastes incredible to him.

sucking at your clit, his tongue enters your sopping hole. you throw your head back, chest heaving when your moans turn into whimpers. he has you stable in his grip, pure bliss fogging your brain. “oh my god!” you cry out, slamming your eyes shut and grabbing onto his hair.

matt hums, the vibration making your legs close around his head. a hotness forms in your tummy, orgasm building the more his muscle laps in your cunt. “mm— i’m gonna cum.” you gasp, his mouth returning to your clit and sucking at your bud. you swear out loud, legs shaking while you make a mess on his face. you feel his tongue lick the excess cum from your thighs, flinching every time he does so.

in the blink of an eye, he uses his strength to flip you onto your back. your breath hitches as he runs his bottom lip up your body, the clinking of his belt entering your ears until his pants fall join the clothing pile. leaning up to take his shirt off, a grin plasters over his face, admiring your body in every way possible. you lift your head to look down at his rock-hard cock, mouth watering at the sight.

he wraps his hand gently around your throat to push your head back onto the mattress. “you want this dick?” he coos, teasing the tip at your entrance to coat it with your juices. you whine lowly, rutting your hips to get more friction. “hm?”

“y-yes.” you stammer, letting out a choked moan as matt starts pushing himself slowly into your hole. the stretch feels mesmerizing, your eyes fluttering closed when he rolls his hips.

“this pussy has been waiting for this.” he says, humming with contentment when your walls wrap around him. “you look so sexy underneath me.”

“f-faster, please.” you choke out, gripping onto the sheets by your sides.

the movement of his hips plow into you more, your ass slapping against his thighs and an erotic sound comes from where you two are conjoined. numerous curses and whimpers escape your body. his balls slap repeatedly against your clit, the feeling making you gasp and your legs shake. “fuck, matt! yeah!”

“i bet those haters are just jealous they can’t have this beautiful body to themselves.” he starts, pausing to catch his breath. “they can’t fuck it like i can.”

“y-you can’t say that.” you whimper, until the two fingers without rings pacify you. you gag a little around them before you start to suck on them, drool dribbling down your chin. the bed starts to squeak when you wrap your legs around his waist to have him go deeper, your moans muffled by his fingers when he hits your g-spot, back arching from the bed.

“there she is.” he whispers, smiling proudly. “that’s it. you want to cum, baby?”

you clench around his shaft, legs shaking more than they were before. you nod eagerly, the knot tightening in your belly. matt groans, watching your hands go to your breasts to tease and pinch the nipples for more stimulation. you can’t make it out, but you could’ve sworn he mumbles so hot under his breath when his dick twitches inside of you. your eyes roll back, mouth opening wide to scream of pleasure.

body trembling, the knot becomes undone when your cum smears down his red dick, the sight having matt pull out with a whimper. he strokes himself a few times before painting your stomach white.

he collapses on top of you, pecking your lips and whispering sweet nothings into your ear. you get a glimpse of the clock and sigh. 10:32 pm. talk about getting home early.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆

you finally get to your apartment complex forty-five minutes or so later. you live on the third floor and usually take the stairs, but you’re so soar that you wobble yourself into the elevator. you walk as fast as your legs can take you down the hallway to your front door, keys jingling once you tap the key fab to open it. a beep noise echos, meaning you succeeded.

once you turn the handle, you're greeted with the TV lighting up the living room and madi’s head snapping in your direction where she’s sitting on the couch. “it’s about time! did you not see my texts or calls? you had me worried. you’re never this late after a shoot.”

“i’m sorry.” you exhale. “i had to make a pit stop.”

her eyes slit, watching the way you’re semi-limping to the seat next to her. you grunt when you manage to sit, looking over to see her mouth agape but smiling. “what?”

“you had sex.”

“you don’t know that.” you scoff, but hide your face as much as possible when you blush, reminiscing about tonight.

“girl.” she gives you the are-you-serious stare. “you’re practically shining with the post-orgasm glow, and you came walking in here like an old lady. who was it with? do i know them? tell me, tell me, tell me!”

madi grabs onto your arms and shakes them in excitement, bouncing on her knees on the cushion. “mattandihavebeenseeingeachotherbehindeverbody’sbacks.”

her nose scrunches. “huh?”

you exhale sharply, checking your phone that’s on your lap to see some messages from the boy that had you screaming on his cock over an hour ago. “matt and i have been seeing each other behind everybody’s backs.”

she claps her hands once, awfully loud, before pointing at you. “i fucking knew it. tell me everything. pretty please.”

so you do. you explain everything — well, you leave out the explicit details — and she’s beaming the whole time as you speak. your phone goes off again, and she grabs it before you can. “madi, come on!” you screech between giggles. she reads the messages with wide eyes, and you peek over her shoulder to see.

matt :)

babe

you left your bra here

should i try it on?

i’ll look good in it

hello :(

did you fall asleep already?

i think we should make it official

be my girlfriend please

i’ll see you tomorrow

i love you

whoops never said that before

oh well!

goodnight <3

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @stars4matt @freshsturns @etershine @tpvmz @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws @hoes4matthew

[zeltqz]

call me or not, it's up to you.

☰ — synopsis : you come back home after a night out and see you accidentally posted your private stories public, and received a drunk lengthy voicemail from your ex, ran.

☰ — pairing : haitani ran x fem!reader ☰ — length : 2.4k words ☰ — contents : nsfw and 18+ contents, mentions of violence (sanzu being sanzu), slight phone sex; they don't directly communicate, ran being mildly toxic and messing with your emotions, teeny itsy bitsy drops of gaslighting ☰ — notes : i literally suck at writing toxic characters so im SORRY if this is literal ass, (im trying my hardestttt) i just had a dream about this and had to execute it as best as i could lol

It was a regular Thursday night when you stumbled into your date’s house, struggling to walk with half a heel working. 

“Let’s get you out of these.” He knelt before you and helped you unbuckle your heels and you sighed in relief when he slipped them both off. 

“Remind me to never wear heels again,” you giggled, clutching onto him. He leaned down and kissed you. You hummed, still feeling the buzz from the alcohol earlier and wrap your arms around his waist, kissing him back. “I had fun tonight.”

He cupped both your cheeks in his hands and peppering them with kisses, each of them making you giggle at the ticklish feeling. “Me too.” There was a final lingering kiss before he pulled away. “Let’s get you ready for bed, alright?” He traced your cheekbones with his finger, and you smiled up at him, nuzzling your cheek against his hand.

“Okay.” He helped you up the stairs and you collapsed onto his bed, your dress riding up your thighs as you laid there, clutching at his soft sheets.

“I’m gonna shower first, alright babe?” He said in the process of removing his shirt. “Wanna join me?”

You shook your head, eyes threatening to close shut as you nuzzled his pillow. “I’m alright. You go first.”

He bit his lip, admiring you splayed out on the sheets for a moment, his mind racing with all the things he could do you tonight if you’d join him in the shower. But of course his fantasies only stay in his head since you’ve been rejecting every single one of his advances for the last three months. It’s always the same excuses : you’re not in the mood, or you’re too tired. 

He sighed. “You sure babe?”

You’re half asleep at this point, just barely conscious as you murmur, “‘m sure.” His tongue poked his cheek and he nodded, saying nothing else and heading inside the bathroom. 

You vaguely hear the shower turn on and about to enter a deep sleep when your phone buzzes.

@/shibayuzuha : oh my god who is this man u’re with on ur story? He is CUTE!!

@/hina_tachibana : was this supposed to be posted on your main? 😢

“What story?” you muttered, rubbing your eyes and sitting up. You click  through your instagram story and rewatch the story you posted a few hours earlier when you were at the club. They were all videos of you and Masato dancing together, kissing, taking shots. Honestly you were buzzed the entire night and you thought you posted them on your private account, much less your close friends. “Oh fuck.”

You went to delete all the stories but the damage was already done, over 300 people already saw it. Oh well. That’s tomorrow’s problem. 

You lay back down, eyelids blinking slowly as you fight back sleep and check your missed phone calls you accidentally ignored. That’s when you see it. A voicemail from Haitani Ran. Any ounce of sleep in your body vanished the moment you sat up quickly, rubbing your eyes checking if you saw correctly.

It was over five minutes long and part of you wanted to delete it, but at this moment, you couldn’t help but be curious. You pressed play and put the phone up to your ear.

“Hey. It’s me. Hope I’m not blocked or whatever, I know how petty you can get.” He chuckled to himself and the deep rumble of it took you back to all those months ago when you’d be laying beside him, head on his chest and just listen to the sound of his heartbeat as he spoke on the phone.

There was a deep inhale and the familiar crackle of him smoking that always used to relax you. “Saw your story by the way. Is that your new boy toy? Two of you look good together.” He exhaled and his voice was kinda slurred. “Kinda glad you moved on though. Thought you’d never get over me to be honest.”

“Oh fuck off,” you mumbled. He was still as full of himself as he was when you both ended things almost a year ago. If this was a regular phone call you would’ve hung up or told him he’s not that special, but you looked down and still saw another six minutes left. What the fuck else could he possibly have to say to you?

He chuckled again, and it was so obvious he was drunk now, which surprised you as he was a heavy weight and in your three years of dating you saw him get drunk only twice. 

“You looked so fucking sexy in that dress, baby.” His groan had you squeezing your thighs together. “I can tell by the way he was holding you in those fucking videos he can’t handle you the way I can. He hasn’t fucked you yet, has he? Bet he’s real gentle and sweet with you not knowing you like it deep, and rough. Fuck, man.” He exhaled, rubbing his palm on his face. “Wanna know what I’d do if I was there with you baby?”

“...yes,” you whispered weakly to yourself. It was pointless; he couldn’t hear you and yet you were responding like he could. Blame it on the alcohol but there was nothing you wanted more than Ran right now.

“Bet you do. I’ll humour you though. I’ll take you to the dance floor and run my hands all over that body of yours, force that pretty head of yours back so I can mark all over your neck. Get you so hot and bothered till you’re begging me to fuck you. That happened one time didn’t it? Remember that one night in the club? I had my hands all over you and you dared me to flip your skirt up and fuck you right there. Man, you were such a tease, and a fucking sadist too. Remember when you said you wanted to watch some schmuck clean up my cum from the floor?”

You giggled and bit your lip, teasing your hands down your stomach. You remembered that night perfectly. Ran changed you when you were dating. You don’t even recognise yourself right now because everything just felt right when you were with him. Those years with him were the best of your life, you were young and figuring shit out. You’re still young and figuring shit out, but without him you’re taking a little longer to come to the conclusion of certain things.

Ran had his ups and downs. He was far from the perfect boyfriend, and he knew that. That’s why he was so surprised when you stayed for all those years despite his flaws. He was emotionally unavailable and never spoke about anything concerning him. He was sometimes rude and blunt when pissed off, and the arguments you both would get into would end up in the two of you ignoring each other for weeks. At first you’d be the one to break the silence and show up to his house and just hug him. He’d always smell like cigarettes and it should’ve disgusted you yet you couldn’t help but feel comfort. The smell was strong and yet it never bothered you when you smelt it on him. You’d apologise, crying in his arms as he embraced you back, rubbing up and down your back as you vented it all out in his chest, wetting his shirt with your tears. If he had people over he’d tell them to get the fuck out, hiding your face in his chest until the door closed.

That was the usual routine until the arguments got worst and your pride grew stronger and you’d refuse to talk to him  until he broke it first. He didn’t believe you at first but after a month of no contact he finally broke it first. Since then, he was always the one apologising first, showing up to your house in the middle of the night at random hours to tell you he’s sorry and didn’t mean what he’d said. 

The ups were better than the downs in the relationship. He’d teach you things, he always made you feel good, and simply being next to him was enough to make your entire week, even if it's for a few hours. He made you feel like the only girl in the world, like the most special girl to exist, and he helped boost your confidence by buying you nice things like clothes, accessories, lingerie, and tell you to look at yourself in the mirror and watch as he worships your body, taking his time to kiss his way down your stomach and thighs, and once he got to your pussy he swore  he could eat you out for hours, just until your thighs were shaking around him.

The memory of his tongue between your legs had your back arching off the bed clutching the phone tighter to your ear as you squeezed a hand between your legs, playing with yourself as he talked you through it over the phone.

“Bet you’re touching yourself right now,” he exhaled shakily. “If you’re not, you better start. Want you to remember how well I fucked you every time. Can you do that for me baby?”

“Mmhmm.” Thankfully Masato takes decades in the shower so you didn’t have to worry about him walking in or hearing. Not like you would’ve cared honestly. He’s not Ran, and he won’t ever be.

“Miss you being my good girl. Fuck. He doesn’t deserve to have his hands all over you. Should send Sanzu over and fuck, get him to cut all his fucking fingers off for touching you like that. Man, I bet that idiot doesn’t know that I fucked you in that same dress you know? That’s what got me so damn bothered right now. Wearing the shit I bought you to go fuck around?”

“‘M sorry,” you whimper, parting your folds and slipping as many fingers as you could fit inside without hurting yourself. No matter whatever you shove inside there, it never feels as good as Ran’s fingers, or tongue, or cock. “Need you so bad Ran.”

“Man, wanna hear how you sound right now. Bet you sound so sweet, like usual. Could you do something for me?” You nodded and stopped your fingers movements, listening to his next words.

“Call me again. I miss you so much it’s crazy. Got so much to talk to you about. It’s been how long? Couple months since I last heard from you. And I know you don’t hate me. You never could. That’s something I love about you. Always there for me when I need you. We both took each other for granted, you know? Deny it all you want but you did. And that’s okay. But I wanted to let you know if you ever come back into my life, I’m not letting you go. For real, not making that mistake again. I dunno why I called you tonight honestly, just drank a lot and now I fucking miss you. Call me or not, it’s up to you.”

Then he said the words that made your heart nearly stop and freeze over in your chest. “I love you.” 

Before you could even say it back the voicemail ended, leaving you conflicted.

[ldh0000]

perv!dreamies x 8th member f!reader headcanons !

notes ☆ since i'm obsessed with @luvyeni perv!dreamies headcanons, i had to write my own :( ngl im a bit insecure with this one lol

perv!dreamies who always look forward to have you flustered. their words or touches, all of them get bold when it comes to you.

perv!dreamies who throw some dirty jokes that only you and the members will understand, mostly when you guys are doing a live.

perv!mark who sends you a video of him jerking off moaning your name. he almost sent it on bubble though, clicking on it accidently while choosing some pictures to send.

perv!mark who insists to do a live with you so he can tease you. he keeps his hand on your thigh, wandering dangerously near to your crotch and 100% fingers you when the live is close to its end.

perv!mark who loves to keep your company on the studio, so he can ger some inspiration from you. well, naked you, giving him a head. and most likely to use your moans of his name on a song, but will never release it (or maybe...)

perv!renjun who, in front of your fans, looks the most adorable member, just like a brother for you, when in reality he's the meanest.

perv!renjun who fucks you in the sofa, so the members can catch your teary and vulnerable form being fucked by him.

perv!renjun who needs to have his hands on your ass, even if you're in public. he just can't help himself.

perv!jeno who loves to have you on his lap in live so you can grind him in front of your fans, even if they don't get what you're doing.

perv!jeno who rests his hands innocently behind your back, when in fact, he's fingering you from behind.

perv!jeno who walks around the streets with your panties stuffed on his pocket while having you tied up on his bed waiting for him to do what he needs to.

perv!haechan who is known as the most affectionate member and gets advantage of it, kissing you in public or touching any part of your body. he can go ever further by fingering you on events.

perv!haechan who is always hugging you from behind in between your performances on show, because he gets easily turned on and needs to relieve by humping your ass.

perv!haechan who posted a picture of you on bubble while sleeping on your stomach. little do people know he had his cock buried deep inside you.

perv!jaemin who records your fucking and shows the guys later. when it happens, you have two possibilities: you'll be fucked by all of them or they'll just jerk off watching how much of a good girl you are and will spare your poor body.

perv!jaemin who wakes you up by eating you out while talking about your schedule.

perv!jaemin who fucked you in tds3 backstage because he just couldn't stand the fact that you had to sing the part he was supposed to do with renjun in “better than gold” and might've just kissed you right there. nctzens didn't miss the way he looked like a lovesick pup.

perv!chenle who fucks you in front of a window just to tease you about someone seeing the nct dream's most innocent member being a needy whore.

perv!chenle who can't help himself and just make you suck him off in between the performances.

perv!chenle who buys you the prettiest lingeries so you can put on a show for the guys later. it always ends up with you covered in 7 different cums and sore legs.

perv!jisung who loves to be alone in the practice room so he can take his time with you. always fucking your throat and making a mess, covering your face in his cum.

perv!jisung who always has a hard on when watching your fancams. is not about the clothes, is about you and all of the things you've done before or after the performance. how you've sucked him off before the performance, or how you let him eat you out after it.

perv!jisung who zooms in your chest if your shirt has a low cut or in your ass if your shorts or skirts are too short while watching your fancams. he always ends up like a horny teenager, with a huge boner, humping his bed or fucking his fist.

perv!dreamies who'd love to let their fans know how much of a slut you are for them and only them. if only your fans knew how much of a horny girly the “angel” of nct is...

[earthtooz]

x : CHANGE YOUR MIND ! :*+ﾟ

in which: it's 2 am and itoshi sae is outside your door, hoping for a second chance.

warnings: 1.2k words, angst to fluff with hurt/comfort, happy ending, exes to lovers, not at all realistic but it's itoshi sae ok and we're delusional, ooc!sae

a/n: second second chance romance fic for sae LOL he's just too easy to write for when it comes to exes to lovers. idk why the banner is so low quality but enjoy!

you wonder where itoshi sae finds the nerve. after breaking up with you six months ago ‘for the sake of his career’, you never thought sae would have the gall to show up at your apartment, let alone at 2am, rudely disrupting your sleep.

yet, here he is. a soccer prodigy and superstar in the flesh, standing under the harsh lighting of your apartment hallway that always casts an ugly glow on everyone except sae.

“what are you doing here?” you ask, gripping the door handle a little tighter.

“i just got off the plane,” he answers, evading your question. 

“i know. i can see your suitcases.”

he doesn’t say anything more after that. before the breakup, you were able to read the untouchable itoshi sae, translating his stiff silences into words he could never say but wholeheartedly mean, breaking through his ego to then understand the messages of his heart. he only hopes that you can interpret the one he’s brought to you right now.

“can i come in?” asks the athlete, his question shy and lacking the usual demand that sits in his tone.

still, you furrow your eyebrows and stand your ground. “why on earth would i let you in?”

softness is a weapon that itoshi sae owns. he knows that with his typical hardened exterior the best way he can get through people sometimes is with pliability. even you have fallen for it.

he frowns, “because i’m tired and i want to sleep.”

“don’t you have your own five star hotel that your manager booked for you?” 

“can i just come in?”

the nerve. “itoshi, please leave.”

“i will, i will, but will you hear me out first?”

“what could you possibly have to say that you didn’t befo-”

“-i love you.”

the world stills.

the air around you becomes delicate and you’re too scared to breathe in fear of disrupting the silence, but it feels like the floor beneath you just crumbled and you’re falling through the debris. you’re falling and the only thing you can do is search for sae in the chaos. 

but you don’t hold on to him. no, not this time.

“that’s not fair, that’s not fair at all, sae, you can’t-” a sob tears your words apart, “-you can’t break my heart then come back six months later to tell me that you apparently love me, do you know how hard it was for me to just- ugh!”

in a fit of exasperation, you leave your post at the door and retreat back into your apartment. sae quietly slips through the crack you left open, closing the door with a soft click and you don’t even have the energy to chase him out. he even left his suitcases outside- not that anyone would take them at 4 in the morning. 

“you left me so abruptly and carelessly. we were together for almost a year, sae, yet you threw me aside, called me a burden and moved on with a snap of your fingers! was it easy? moving on like that?” 

instead of flinching at your yelling, sae simply stands at the entrance and accepts it, letting your words prick his skin and sink into him as if would make up for the pain you’ve been bathing in. 

“do you know what that did to me?” your voice is quiet now, turned down a few notches. 

he knows. he knows that you’ve been trying to get over it and not let the breakup impact your life too much, despite what he did. you’ve been going out with friends, treating yourself to everything you deserve, and finding a peace that he’s proud of you for. but sae also knows about the many nights you’ve spent crying and being sensitive to loving again, he hears about all of it from rin who lectured him when he first broke up with you and most likely, will lecture him again when he hears about sae’s unplanned visit.

sae was stupid and naive, but you were the first person he ever loved, and the world is colourless without your splash of influence. 

sae knows he shouldn’t be here existing in your space after everything, however, the instant he stepped off the plane, the first thing his heart wanted was to see one of the few things he loves about japan, you. 

“-so, please, just leave me alone and don’t come back,” you request.

the last thing sae is good at is following instructions, especially ones he doesn’t like.

“but, i love you,” he tries again. you fall to the couch with a defeated sigh, his persistence impaling your heart. 

“stop it.”

somehow, he’s now standing beside you. “do you still love me too?”

“sae-”

“-if you don’t love me anymore i’ll leave.”

with your head in your hands, you lie to him, “i don’t want you to stay either way.”

“another chance, i’ll make it right, i’ll fix it with my life, y/n, just please say you love me too.” 

“you’ll hurt me again.”

“i won’t,” he falls down onto the couch beside you, enveloping you with his frame. “i’ll be good and you can kill me if i’m not.”

you laugh. it’s dry and reserved, but you’re laughing and he begins rocking you side to side. “i don’t want to kill you.”

“rin will, then.”

you take your face out of your hands, looking at him properly for the first time since he arrived. “i-i don’t know, sae. you’ll leave again when you decide that you don’t want me.”

he doesn’t know how to tell you that whilst abroad, all he could think about was you. that during the mundane chores, the tedious trips to and from training, and all the times that he had won a match, he was thinking about you. 

he thought about you in the music he played whilst cleaning, he thought about taking you to a restaurant he saw whilst on the way, and his thoughts about you are loudest when he has a medal around his neck yet all he wants to know is whether or not you’re watching.

but you’re not beside him singing along whilst he was mopping his floors, you weren’t there in his car pointing out every fun detail you saw, and he didn’t even know if you wanted anything to do with soccer after what him. 

everytime, the yearning for you would grow, to the point that it lead him here when he should have gone to the hotel to wash up and sleep off the tiring trip instead.

but sitting here now and looking at your tear-stained face, he knows he’ll always prefer you- he’ll always find and choose you, so long as you let him. 

“give me another chance,” and i’ll show you that i’ll never leave again.

“fine,” you surrender after a moment of silence and sae feels like he could jump to the moon. “but we take things slow-”

“-i love you,” he repeats, grabbing your face and pushing you down on the couch, peppering an endless stream of kisses on your skin. sae’s outburst of affection and happiness is uncharacteristic but contagious. “i love you, i love you, i love you.”

between each declaration is sae kissing a new part of your face, showering your cheeks, forehead, nose- everywhere with unbridled adoration that he has been keeping locked up for too long. you’re real between his hands, you’re real in his hold, you’re real beneath him, and he doesn’t want this dream to end. his kisses feel like healing promises and you melt right into them. 

“i get it!” you giggle out, hands on his shoulders as to wrestle him off. “you don’t need to keep telling me, and promise me that we’re going to take it slow-”

a cold tear slides down your cheek, silencing your giggles. it’s not you who’s crying though, so you hug sae a little tighter.

something tells you that this second chance won’t backfire.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[luna-the-moth]

i am begging for riddle with reader who makes audio porn 🙇🙇 does he accidentally stumbles by it? did cater introduced the concept to him? would his treatment of reader change after he sees them the next day? does he avoids them? he definitely can't listen to the entire recording no matter who is it for the first time LMAO he needs a 5 minute break

asidfsdf ask and ye shall receive, anon <3 riddle has so much potential on this subject tbh im <3

18+ / gn! reader / sub! riddle implied / reader does audio porn/asmr!

genuinely i think cater would consider showing it to him as a joke to see his reaction. on the other hand . he knows trey will kill him . BUT. i do think he toes the line by making enough subtle jokes about boyfriend/girlfriend/partner asmr that ace (disgusted, cringed out like the loser his is) asks him why he's talking about "lame shit like that," leading riddle to ask what it is...(he googles it later because no one will tell him, mostly out of fear, mischief, protectiveness, or some mixture of the sort).

Riddle stumbles upon one of your tamer audios at first: it's nothing saucy, just an audio where you're soothing your "partner" post-exam season. (he looked up "asmr, soothing" since that's one of the benefits to asmr trey had listed). nevertheless, his face burns red enough to rival trey's freshest strawberry tart once he realizes who the voice belongs to.

He doesn't allow himself to listen any further- how could he? to allow himself to fantasize about you so openly , , , yes you were kind, intelligent, and enjoyable to be around, but it's not as if he's harboring any romantic intent towards you!

and you...why would you post this publicly? do you not know how much power your words hold? how the timbre of your voice could send a man to his knees? to upload such intimate moments of yourself, scripted they may be...

Riddle's chest heaves as the realization of the situation fully sinks in, but he can't restrain himself from clicking the hyperlink promising "an exclusive sneak peek into [your] heart <3." yet unlike the romantic ideas riddle had come up with, the titles that appeared made him nearly faint.

"Teaching You How to Properly Obey My Orders."

"Caught You Slacking Off."

"A Reward <3"

All of them were so...intense.

Eyes razing through the posts upon posts of similarly titled audios, Riddle feels a shudder go through his body. He's never even heard of most of the acts you placed in the tags under each post but...the thought of you leaning forward into a microphone, murmuring all of your wishes to your paying listeners...he can't help but wish to know the experience, too.

His sleep that night is fitful. He cannot sleep properly . Cannot think properly . Cannot allow peace to overtake him for a moment lest his thoughts stray back to what he had found-

He's in a huffy mood the next day; far more likely to scold a slacking student or mischievous cat. But you...he doesn't approach you at all, avoiding your gaze with every accidental meeting. You wonder if perhaps this is part of him trying to spare you from his ill temper; the adeuce duo had told you of his moodiness from that morning.

But as time drags on, Riddle still can't quite look at you the same way as he once did. He's more passionate. Earnest in wanting to spend time with you, and perhaps a tad possessive as well...You sum it up as him making up for his previous mood, but any explanation you come up with never seems quite right...

<3 lemme know if you'd like to hear more thoughts about the twst charas, nonnie! im also down to talk about sub! twst boys outside of audio porn lol

[pxuvalentinx]

Drunk!Gojo x fem!reader

!des: gojo drank a little too much and woops. you two ended up in his bed.

wc: 4.3k (my longest one on tumblr yet)

a/n: wrote this like ages ago and thought why not post it as a late birthday post LOL. I honestly didn't read over it again, so if it's bad - oops.

“Geez, you really are a lightweight, huh?” You chuckled out as you listened to Gojo’s confused mumbles. He was only a couple of shots in and already lost his ability to form any sentences. It was quite a sight to watch Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer of his time, get drunk so easily, babbling nonsense, a bright blush covering most of his face. Shoko just glanced over at you two. “Mm’ shutttt…” He answered in an annoyed tone. His arms were hanging down as he was leaning back into the chair, his head was thrown back while he stared at the ceiling.

You have no idea how you even ended up here, considering that only a few days ago Gojo was practically begging you to come along, because he believed that you were a lightweight as well, so he hoped that he wouldn’t be the only one to get drunk that quickly. Even though he hated alcohol, he was really hitting it off tonight. Bottle after bottle of Sake. At first, you were hesitant, but as soon as he mentioned that Shoko and Nanami would be there too, you couldn’t say no anymore.

Nanami had left about an hour ago now, he was very strict about keeping up his sleep schedule. That’s a fact you could never forget about him, ever since you guys met at Jujutsu High about 10 years ago.

Your eyes flicked from Gojo to Shoko as she poured herself another drink. “Let me have another one too!” You say.

- “Still not drunk?” She replied.

- “A bit tipsy, but that’s about it.”

A laugh escaped her mouth while she poured you a drink. You were more of a Whiskey type, while Gojo preferred Sake, whenever he did decide to drink. Your eyes lingered back to Gojo who was now leaning forward to grab another bottle of Sake. Shoko was quick to react, placing the bottle of Sake out of his reach. Getting a pout out of Gojo.

“Awhhhh,” He whined, “Meanieeee~ Y/nnn~~ Say somethin’~” Your eyes widened as he grabbed onto your arm, slightly pulling it in order to get your attention. His hair was a complete mess, no strand of hair was where it was supposed to be. You thought it was rather adorable how he was holding onto your arm like that. You’d be lying to yourself if you said that you didn’t have a crush on him, or at least thought about how he’d look on top of you. Even though you had those thoughts, you never had the time to mention them to him or try to make a move, you were way too busy for all of that. You doubted that he’d even care, considering that he probably has all girls chasing after him, whenever he was not in Jujutsu High.

“Think you’ve had enough, ‘Toru.” You replied. Gojo moved closer to you, still holding onto that arm. He was clinging to you like a cat in heat, rubbing slightly against you. Shoko raised one eyebrow at the sight, before finishing her drink, surprising you. You hadn’t even started drinking yours. “I’ll be taking my leave as well, you’ll be fine?” Shoko said as she put her glass down.

- “Yeah. I don’t know when I’ll get to leave yet, gon’ make sure Satoru is asleep before”

- “Okay.” Her hands were reaching around her, trying to find her coat and bag. A quiet ‘Ah’ escaped her mouth when she found them.

- “Get home safe.” You responded, waving goodbye with your free hand. Shoko just gave you a sweet smile before putting on her coat and checking the pockets to make sure she has everything.

“Byeee Iei-” Hiccup, “-ri.” Gojo responded, now letting go of your arm to wave with both of his hands enthusiastically. Shoko waved back, turning around to walk into the hallway. Shortly after, the click of the front door confirmed that she was gone. Your head was now turned to Gojo who was staring into the dark hallway.

“Shall we get you to bed?” You mentioned, grabbing Gojo’s attention. “Don’t want to sleep…yet.” Another Hiccup. Soft whining left his mouth, basically pleading with the puppy eyes. You chuckled at the sight of him, as you took a few sips from your drink. Normally you hated silence, it was a weird uncomfortable feeling, but right now, you were loving it. The sight of Gojo pleading at you to let him stay up a little longer, while you sip on your Whiskey — hoping that enjoying this last drink wouldn’t cause you any problems later.

This wasn’t like Gojo at all, normally he was always super talkative, confident and flirty in the way he talked to girls. You couldn’t tell if it was because of the alcohol or because of you. The quiet sound of glass hitting wood sounded, as you put your now empty glass on the table. Feeling a little dizzy from the amount of alcohol that you just consumed in such a short amount of time, you decided that it would be best if you went home as well. The only obstacle here was getting Gojo into his bed.

“C’mon now, ‘Toru. You should really sleep, it’s late.” You somewhat repeat. A sigh left Gojo’s mouth, as he unwillingly got up, leaning all of his weight onto you. You tried your hardest to support him, even though you were much smaller than him. Gojo was humming a song while walking with you. You couldn’t guess what song it was, probably just something he had made up in his head. With your free hand, you opened the bedroom door. Gojo swaying left and right next to you, just following you blindly. His eyes were barely open, he could’ve probably fallen asleep while standing. Gojo’s eyes only opened when he felt the bed against him, he hadn’t even realised that you lied him down. “Mhmm… So comfy~” He mumbled while letting his head sink into the pillow. You could finally feel the alcohol from earlier hitting you, dizziness overcoming your head again.

“Sleep well, ‘Toru.” You said while throwing the blanket over him, as you pull it up to his chest you can feel a hand grabbing your wrist. Gojo’s hand. “Hm?” You whisper.

- “Where’s my goodnight kiss?”

- “Good night kiss??!” Your face was now covered in a deep red blush, your legs got weak just at the idea. You weren’t 100% sure if that was what he actually had said, so you decided to wait for confirmation from him. He was drunk, after all, and you didn’t want to take advantage of that. But you could also feel yourself losing more and more control of your mind and actions with each passing second, the Whiskey was starting to get to you.

- “‘M waitin’~” He purred as he pulled on your wrist to get you closer.

Hearing his sweet voice ask that from you got your body burning with heat. You knew if you decided to give in, this night would not end on a ‘Good night kiss’. You knew that if you gave in to this, you’d give in to everything else, every single one of your fantasies, desires, and needs. His gaze was on you, looking you up and down, waiting for your answer. Your eyes met his. Fuck, your eyes met his. The bright blue colour, the dilated pupils, the way he looked at you through his lashes. You knew that he’ll be the death of you someday.

Suddenly you snapped back into reality, remembering his request. Quickly you licked your lips before feeling the nervousness rising in your chest. It wasn’t the first time you had kissed a man, especially not when it comes to those quick kisses. So why? You leaned forward, your face right above his. ‘Just a quick peck on his lips, right?’ You told yourself in your head over and over again, but you couldn’t seem to calm down at all.

One last deep breath, before you leaned down, pressing your lips onto his. You were just about to pull away again and probably die from embarrassment, but only a second later you could feel two big hands cupping your face, pulling you in. His hands were gently squeezing your cheeks as he deepened the kiss. Considering that you weren’t prepared for a kiss longer than a second or two, you ran out of air pretty quick. Gojo wasn’t stupid - no matter how drunk he was, he noticed that you were out of breath and let you pull away, not entirely letting go of your cheeks though. His fingertips were still lingering on your soft skin.

Your lips were only a few inches apart from each other, as you tried to catch your breath you could hear mumbles coming from Gojo.

- “Mm..so soft…more…can’t stop…” He panted, his drunk-tired eyes glancing at your rosy lips.

Before you could realise it, his lips were pressed onto yours again. Instead of the soft kiss you shared before, he decided to be rough with you this time. Still in shock, you decided to just move along, to let him take the lead. Soft pants and groans left Gojo’s mouth. Not pulling away from his lips, you moved the rest of your body onto the bed, you were now on all fours on top of Gojo. His hands wandered from your cheeks down to your waist, tugging at your loose blouse and pulling it up slightly. The soft touch and his cold hands sent shivers down your spine.

In one swift motion, he had you on your back, now underneath him - his lips still on yours. One of his hands was moving up again, pinning your hands above your head, while the other hand remained on your exposed waist. The cool air in Gojo’s bedroom had your body covered in goosebumps. You could feel Gojo’s tongue begging for more at your lips, so without a second thought you granted him access. His tongue immediately started fighting with yours for dominance, the sweet taste of sake mixing with the rather smoky taste of whiskey. The hand that was on your waist slid under your blouse only to feel the soft fabric of your bra, you could hear a quiet chuckle escaping Gojo’s mouth, regardless of your tongues fighting for dominance.

He rested his hand on your bra for a bit, before he pulled away from your lips, a string of saliva connected your mouth with his. Satoru loosened his grip on your pinned up wrists a little, while he unbuttoned your blouse in only a few seconds. His eyes scanned your entire upper body.

- “So.. fuckin’ gorgeous~” He exhaled. You could see the excitement in his eyes. His words sent another shiver down your spine, as your face lit up.

Gojo’s hand finally let go of your wrists, pulling off the blouse before you could even realise it. You lied there like a starfish, not being quite sure where to put your hands or what to do, but Gojo didn’t seem to mind. He was enjoying every second of this, of being able to admire your perfect body, being able to run his hands up and down your body without you saying a word, only sweet whimpers leaving your mouth. Music to his ears. Before even letting you think again, he slid a hand under your back, lifting you with ease. The other hand was undoing your bra. You were surprised by how easily he had undone your bra.

- “Not your first time, huh?” You teased at his actions. A quiet chuckle was his response, you took that as a yes.

He threw your bra into a corner of his room, finding it would be a problem for later. For now, his eyes were focused on your breasts, licking his lips. He removed his hand from your back and let you sink into the bed again. The shy and intoxicated Gojo from earlier seemed to have lost all control over himself as soon as he saw your breasts. A hand immediately started to gently squeeze one of them. His thumb brushing over your nipple, gently rubbing it, in order to get any sounds out of you - which wasn’t necessarily hard, considering that the alcohol from earlier made you even more sensitive than you usually are. You could see a smirk forming on Gojo’s face, while he listened to your quiet whimpers. The spot between your legs was starting to get soaked, only from Gojo touching you so delicately. His other hand started to take care of your other breast, now simultaneously fondling both of them. Biting down on your lip, you tried to suppress any moans. Your eyes that were just roaming around the room, now met Gojo’s face. His eyes were focused on your tits, the way they perfectly fit into his hands, the way your skin felt against his hands. His ears were listening to the sweet sounds, the bulge in his pants growing bigger. His mouth was slightly opened. You’ve never seen a man be so mesmerised by the sight in front of him.

The puddle in between your legs was soaking the bed sheets at this point. As much as you loved Gojo paying so much attention to your chest, you wanted more. You needed more. You bucked your hips up slightly, trying to get the fabric of your panties to rub against your swollen clit. Not even biting your lip could suppress your moans anymore,

- “Ha?” Gojo didn’t waste any time moving his hand down to your lower stomach, pressing it down to keep you from moving. A whine of frustration escaping you. “Gettin’ impatient? Slut.”

His words sent waves of excitement through your body.

- “Please…’Toru… want you to touch me~” You begged. Giving him the sweetest look you could possibly do.

In a blink of a second, your pants were off, leaving you only with your panties on. Gojo slid back a little, kneeling in between your legs. His eyes immediately shifted from your chest to your drenched panties. One hand wandered down, rubbing two fingers against your clothed pussy. A gasp escaped your mouth as you bucked your hips against his hand. An excited look overcame his face.

- “Want me to touch you there, hm?” His fingers were not stopping, while you bucked your hips at them. A whimper was your response.

He suddenly withdrew his fingers, before ripping your panties off. Your face was burning, your senses being so heightened was driving you crazy. You watched Gojo bring your panties closer to his face, to his nose. He groaned when he practically inhaled the scent of your pussy. “Fuck… I’ll keep them as a souvenir, so I have something whenever you’re not around…” His other hand was cupping his bulge, while he continued to sniff your panties. The sight and his words almost made you finish right there and then.

Your exposed cunt was throbbing at the sight as well, the cool air blowing over it made you gasp. Gojo eventually put the panties down, and shifted all his attention back to you.x His eyes now focused on your cunt, licking his lips. Your eyes were following his every move. He moved down - looking at your cunt.

“Mm… such a pretty pussy~ Gon’ ruin it…” He purred before using his thumb to massage your clit - the sudden touch already driving you crazy, quiet gasps and whimpers leaving your lips. A low chuckle coming from Gojo, enjoying your reaction. The bulge in his pants was screaming for some action as well, but he was ignoring that for now. Before you could realise it, he inserted a finger, making you squirm. You already knew that he had pretty long fingers, but actually feeling them caught you off guard. Not long after, a second finger entered you. They weren’t necessarily thick, but definitely long enough to reach those sweet spots you could only dream of. He was aware of his skinny fingers, so in order to get you ready for him, he spread his fingers inside of you. You screamed at the feeling of getting stretched like that. His scissoring motions were rough, but the pain faded quickly, calming you a little.

His fingers were soaked at this point. Your mouth was wide open, whimpering, gasping, moaning, while Gojo thrusted his fingers in and out of you, occasionally curling them, hitting exactly the spot that made you get weak in the knees, that built up that knot in your abdomen more and more. His eyes kept flicking between your pussy and your face, enjoying both sights just equally as much. Not only did he get enjoyment out of looking at your face and cunt, he also loved the sounds you were making - the sounds your drenched cunt was making as his fingers ruined it. Every now and then, you’d catch a glimpse of his face, he looked so pleased while fingering you. It pushed you even closer to the edge.

- “...Ah~ ‘Toru gonna c-” He cut you off by starting to rub your clit again with the thumb on his other hand.

- “Cum for me, Doll.”

That was all you needed to hear to lose all control. Your orgasm hit you hard, Gojo fingered you through it, making you pant and gasp for air. A mischievous grin started to appear on his face. “Good girl.” He said before withdrawing his hands from your cunt. Not letting you catch your breath, his hands grabbed onto your thighs - spreading them even further. His face diving directly into your cunt, sucking and licking up all of your juices. Some satisfied purrs left his lips, sending vibrations through your pussy. The overstimulation was making you whine. His talented tongue was all to keep your jaw dropped, mouth wide open. Looking down at him, you could only see his soft snow-white hair, his face was entirely buried in your pussy. He was eating you out like it was his first meal after days.

Eventually, he pulled away, giving you some time to breathe. His face was a mess, your juices were covering half of it. The dim light in his room was making him look 10 times hotter than usual. Your cunt was throbbing from the orgasm you just experienced. He looked beyond proud.

Gojo’s cock was also throbbing, leaking with precum, ruining his pants and underwear. It was throbbing for you. Your cunt felt so empty, missing the feeling of his digits inside of you — not knowing that the emptiness would get replaced by something way better soon.

While you were still catching your breath, your eyes caught Gojo taking off the sweater he was wearing. All of your attention immediately shifted to him - he knew exactly what he was doing, taking off his sweater so slowly that it was starting to drive you crazy, revealing his fit upper body, flexing his muscles on purpose. You knew very well why girls liked him - why you liked him. The defined abs, the V-line, his muscular arms, the little trail of white hair right above his pants. The last time you had seen him shirtless was on a beach day back when you were still a student in Jujutsu High. His body back then was ridiculous compared to what you were seeing right now. He was watching you from the corner of his eye, smirking to himself.

- “Like the view?”

- “You like yours just as much.”

- “Not wrong.”

The dizziness from earlier never left your mind, your senses never went back to normal again. Quite the opposite actually, it feels like Gojo is just making it worse with every passing second. You were lost in your thoughts, lost at the sight. Something inside of you still hadn’t realised that your fantasies finally came true. Deep inside of you, you were praying that this wasn’t a dream. That you wouldn’t wake in your own bed in a few minutes - which wouldn’t be the first time.

The sound of a zipper brought you back to reality. You weren’t expecting a butt naked Gojo in front of you when you snapped back. Cock fully erect, slightly jumping in excitement, precum dripping out of it. His cock was slightly curved upwards. He used his hand to smear the precum all over his cock, quiet groans already escaping his mouth as he gently stroked it. You could tell he was just as sensitive as you were. Gojo had a tight grip on it, squeezing it with each stroke, his groans getting louder with each stroke. The sight only made the knot in your abdomen build up again. He’d call you pathetic if he knew just how excited that got you. Mumbles, quiet mumbles - ‘fuck’ ‘ah’ ‘ngh~’ ‘mhm..’. His eyes were focused on your body the entire time. One last stroke before he stopped.

He lined up with your cunt, as he rubbed his dick against your folds and clit, slipping the tip in every now and then. Gojo was looking for certain reactions from you, and you did not disappoint him. Quiet screams leaving your lips at the slight stretch of his tip slipping inside.

- “Tell me how badly you want it, sweetheart.” Gojo purred.

Forming a simple sentence has never been this hard in your entire life. Never ever have you struggled so hard to just make other sounds than whimpers. He was an asshole, asking you to beg and then rubbing his dick against your clit even more.

- “...I- fuck~”

- “C’mon… Use those big girl words…”

- “...’Toru please~ I want your- ah~ dick so badly…”

FUCKHe slammed into you, stretching out every inch of your tight cunt. Your back arched immediately, as you pressed the back of your head further into the pillow. You dug your fingernails into the bedsheets. To your surprise, the shock only made you gulp loudly. Gojo gasped when he felt his tip kiss your cervix, only now realising that he had buried himself balls deep inside of you. His hands wandered to your hips, not only to keep you in place, but also to make sure to pull you as far as possible onto his dick. The fingers he had inside of you just a few minutes ago were nothing compared to the girth of his dick. They were nothing compared to the way he made you feel like when he thrusted so roughly yet so lovingly into you. The way his tip gave a little smooch to your cervix with every thrust. The pain that kept on mixing with pleasure was making you go stupid, making you lose every coherent thought in your brain.

slap. slap. slap. slap. slap. slap. slap.At this point you were choking on your own saliva, panting so heavily.

slap. slap. slap. slap. slap. slap. slap.Gojo had this devilish grin on his face as he fucked you stupid, as he fucked you into the point where you wouldn’t even realize your own orgasms anymore. You had no idea how long it has been since a man has fucked you so sincerely, or if it has ever been this intense. Oh how glad you were that you agreed to joining the little drinking ‘party’ tonight. His two hands that were still holding your hips, were no longer just firmly gripping them, he was roughly squeezing them - geez, this would leave marks later.

His thrusts were starting to stutter.

- “Oh fuck…stop…squeezing me…mhm~” The way your walls were clenching around him made him lose the confidence in his thrusts.

Sloppy but still rough thrusts were the aftermath. Sweat was covering his chest and neck, his breathing was getting heavier with each passing second. You couldn’t remember how many orgasms you were in by now - but you could feel the next one building up already. Not only yours, but Gojo’s first for the night.

Gojo suddenly lifted your legs and threw each over his shoulders, hitting a completely different angle from the position switch. Making you gasp out loud. This position was making you see stars, making your eyes roll into the back of your head. A low chuckle escaped Gojo’s mouth at your reaction. He was quite aware of the spot you liked by now. So in order to make you finish with him, he hit it over and over and over again. Making you whine, tears of pleasure starting to run down your cheeks at the overstimulation. Oh, and how the tears turned him on. How this entire sight just made him grow harder with each moment, how it made his dick throb so terribly. How he could finish at any moment looking at this, and how he will pull you with him.

It was starting to get impossible to ignore the knot in your abdomen, only a little more and you’d-

splash

Without any warning you could feel Gojo filling you up, a cry of pleasure escaping your lips. It pushed you over the edge so nicely. The legs that were thrown over his shoulders were shaking by now. As you looked at Gojo, you could only see him panting and almost whimpering. Sweat was running down his forehead. A lovely sight to see regardless.

As he pulled out of you, his eyes watched his seed flow out of your pussy so slowly. “Oh shit~” He hissed.

You chuckled quietly, also catching your breath. His eyes shifted to you, grinning like the asshole he is. You really would’ve liked a warning, but it’s too late for that now anyway. He let your legs down back onto the bed and then leaned forward to press a tender kiss on your lips.

Too exhausted to fight back or even talk about what just happened, you just let it happen. But in the end, what would you even be complaining about?

Guess the alcohol did you justice tonight.

 ©pxuvalentinx - do not steal, modify, translate or repost my work.

[begko]

keep quiet. -seijoh 4

warnings: 18+ MDNI, poly, implied masturbation, implied sex(? I think), idk how to tag so lmk if there's anything else

contains: fem reader, seijoh 4 x reader (but mostly Matsukawa x reader and Hanamaki x reader)

wc: 1.2 k

a/n: I feel like there's not enough seijoh 4 fics out there so I decided to write one myself lol. This is my first fic so if anyone likes this I'll finish this and try to post more. Just ask and I'll lyk if I can do it!

Living in an apartment with four other boys never left your days feeling dull. Although you were all in your 20’s and supposedly more mature than your younger selves, they were still boys. 

They would each find ways to somehow piss you off, whether consciously or not. Dirty laundry in the living room, a bag of chips left open on the counter, or the loud moans of a random girl spilling through the crack in their bedroom door. These things wouldn’t typically leave you feeling so annoyed, but hearing a repeating “Yes Oikawa!” at 3 AM– the night before your abnormal psychology midterm may I add– was seriously starting to test your patience. 

Before you knew it, you found your feet gliding stomping down the hallway towards the brunette’s room, unknowingly drawing the other three to peek out from their own doors. 

“I SWEAR TO GOD TOORU. IF SHE DOESN’T SHUT UP YOU WILL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN.” You emphasized your threat by loudly pounding your fist on his door, then swiftly retreating back to your room, slamming your door for good measure. You put your earbuds back in and tried to focus on the music that filled your ears.

Thankfully, you eventually drifted to sleep, but the groggy feeling you had the next morning did not dissipate, even with the large coffee you had made. After fumbling with your keys for what seemed like forever, you were met with the faces of your roommates, all waiting to greet you. They each gave you a warm smile, which normally would brighten your mood a bit, but the sight of Tooru’s face made a frown appear on your face. Without a word, you disappeared into your room and threw yourself onto the bed, hoping to catch up on some sleep.

“What did I do?” Hajime immediately slapped the back of Tooru’s head in response. “You idiot! She had an exam today and you haven’t even apologized for keeping her up!” Hajime clicked his tongue in annoyance at his best friend. Tooru rubbed the back of his head to soothe the pain. “Well how do I make her forgive me? I didn’t know she had an exam!” 

Hajime merely shook his head, “Figure it out.” he said before going to check on you. As he opened your door, he found you– jeans and all – laying face-down on your bed. A groan of acknowledgement came from your figure, causing Hajime to let out a breathy laugh. “You okay?” 

“Headache.” Was all you managed to say before beckoning him to lay with you. He obliged, letting you roll over before laying on top of your half-made bed with you. He adjusted you both so your head would be comfortably caged in his arms, while you curled into his warmth.

“It’s alright, just get some sleep. I’ll stay with you, baby.” There it was. That nickname he gave you. It always put a smile on your face, this time no different, as you drifted off with your lips sleepily curled up at the corners.

While, yes, they were annoying at times, one could argue that they had a soft spot for you. They would often lay with you if they knew you wanted the company, just as Hajime was doing. When a boy would break your heart, you would find one of them waiting outside of your lecture hall with a bouquet of daffodils, ready to take you out to eat or to a club. With them, you never needed to watch cringey rom-coms while incessantly crying. They distracted you from the heartache, until it eventually melted away. And those nicknames, god, those nicknames. You were sure that they meant nothing, but the way that they locked eyes with you as they uttered ‘Princess’ or ‘Darling’ made your heart stop in ways that felt more than platonic. Sometimes, when you touched yourself in the dead of the night, you found yourself imagining them saying it, driving you to your climax. But you would never admit that to any of them. Just as they wouldn’t admit that you would sometimes let your moans get loud enough for them to hear, driving them to let their hands wander down beyond the waistbands of their boxers. They quickly chased their high, knowing that without the sweet noises of your pleasure seeping through the thin walls, they would be left unsatiated.

You awoke to the delicious smell of food wafting in from the kitchen. After stretching a bit, you opened your eyes to find Hajime no longer next to you. You followed the smell into the main area of your apartment, finding the boys sitting at the kitchen counter chatting while Tooru stood with a pink apron on. 

Your small laugh caused them all to turn their heads to wear you stood, a smile appearing on each of their faces. You walked up to them and put your hands on the counter, surveying the mess left on top of it.

“I made you your favorite! And before you say anything, I was just about to clean up.” That drew another giggle to fall from your lips. You mumbled out a ‘You better.” as Tooru wrapped his arms around your form. “I’m sorry for keeping you up last night, please forgive me?” 

“ Fine, just buy a gag for the next time you wanna bring one of them home.” The four laughed while you began to set the table.

After dinner, Tooru told you to put on a movie while the rest of them did the dishes and grabbed something sweet to snack on. You opted to take a quick shower before doing so and changed into a comfortable tank top and shorts. As you plopped down on the couch and simply chose to re-watch The Hunger Games, Hiro and Issei sat down on either side of you. Issei guided you between his legs, allowing your head to lay on his chest, as Hiro moved your legs into his lap. Hiro draped a blanket over your form, as you gave him a small smile of thankfulness. Soon after, Hajime and Tooru sat in the smaller armchairs and started the movie. 

You’ve seen this movie a million times, after all it was your favorite. But as you watched Katniss tie herself to a tree in an attempt to get some sleep, you began to grow bored. You shifted from your position, fidgeting in hopes of becoming comfortable again. “Sit still, pretty girl. I wanna know what happens next.” You heard Issei whisper into your ear. You freeze. For some reason, the mixture of the hot breath that you felt on your neck and the raspiness of his voice made your stomach form a knot. But it wasn’t until you felt Hiro’s hand start to slowly travel up the length of your leg that you finally realized what you were feeling. You felt hot, making you squirm even more. Issei’s arm snaked around your middle, holding you in place. “I said sit still. We’ll give you a reward if you’re good.” Suddenly it felt like your senses were heightened. The feeling of Issei’s arm and Hiro’s wandering hands made your breathing come to a halt. Is this a dream?

“Do you trust us, pretty girl?”

[natspats]

anything

this is my 1st post on here! see my pinned to learn more about me. :)

thank you for reading & enjoy! 🩷

(inspired by: anything by adrianne lenker)

————————

Light rain patters against the car window, a light grey sky above. Soft music plays in the background and overall you’re feeling happy. That is until-

*click!*

“Hey-!! And what do you think you’re doing?” You giggle and swipe at the phone in your boyfriend’s hand.

Schlatt effectively keeps his phone away from you, holding it up in the air with his long arms, resulting in defeat for your shorter arms.

“Shush toots, I’m admiring my beautiful girl.”

He pretends not to notice the mix of love and happiness that falls onto your face, smiling to himself that he’s made you feel this way.

The amount of photos Schlatt has collected of you over the course of your relationship with him is uncanny. He has a folder in his photos app filled with hundreds of photos of you:

some pretty,

some silly,

some ugly (at least in your eyes, but he doesn’t think it’s possible for you to ever look anything but beautiful,)

and even some random photos of your tits (lol) he managed to acquire. (he insists it’s necessary to have a piece of you for when you’re not around, whatever that means).

Looking at you is probably in his top 5 favorite things to do. If he’s with you physically, he’ll just stare at you.

Stare at you as you sleep on his shoulder, as you ramble on about the thing you’re currently enjoying,

as you’re deep in thought,

as you do absolutely anything.

Or if you guys aren’t together, he will scroll through that damn photo album he’s built up.

“This one’s definitely going in the album.”Schlatt clicks the heart button below the photo and adds the photo to the album entitled, “pretty girl.”

“You say that for every photo you take of me!” You dramatically eye roll and cross your arms.

“Because every photo of you deserves to be kept in a special place.” Schlatt interlocks his big hand with your smaller one as you lay your head on his shoulder.

“One day, the historians will find these photos and think, ‘woah, who was this fine piece of ass?’”

“Whatever you say J.” You look up from his shoulder and smile at him, his eyes smiling as you do.

“I can’t wait.” Schlatt sighs with a light smile.

“For?” You give him an inquisitive look.

“To show you off to everyone. I can’t wait to walk into a room with you, and for all their heads to turn, and then I’m like ‘that’s right, this is my doll and she’s allllllll mine-’”

Your heart feels like it’s going to spill over as he rambles on about the future.

Truth be told, you wanted everyone to see you were his too. Allas, you both decided it would be best to stay on the down low for a while.

Schlatt didn’t want to stress you out with being thrown into the spotlight of his career, and you both wanted to have a relationship without any other party having an influence on that.

The only people who knew of your relationship was both of your families and Ted Nivison. And this method seemed to prove successful because you had been dating for a little over 2 years now.

You guys were both happy, but you knew you couldn’t live like this forever. There comes a point in time where you don’t want to hide anymore.

And that point in time is now.

“And you get to meet all of my friends, especially Minx and Niki you’ll really like them, and I get to hold your hand-“

You cut off the new yorker’s sappy rambling about you with a kiss.

He is taken aback, but quickly falls into it, deepening the kiss. He places a cold hand on the back of your neck, and another cold hand down on your thigh.

After a few seconds, you both break the kiss to catch your breath. He stares into your eyes, half lidded with love.

“Man, I’ll never get over that doll.” He says with a lop sided grin.

“Let’s do it.” You grab his face, placing both of your hands on his scruffy, mutton chopped face.

“Let’s- huh?” Schlatt says almost drunkenly, still grinning lopsidedly.

“You, Mr. Jonathan Schlatt, put that god forsaken photo album to good use.” You smile, staring right into his eyes.

“Just- not the tit pics.”

And with that, his lips meet yours, and you’re unable to keep your hands off each other from that point on.

——————

2 weeks later, you’re in the car, light rain pattering against the window once again.

Music softly playing in the background.

Specifically the song “Anything” by Adrianne Lenker.

It was the song Schlatt posted you to, the song he used to introduce you to the world as his girlfriend.

You feel warm inside.

happy, loved.

*click!*

“EXCUSE YOU.” You gasp at him.

Schlatt shows you his phone and puts on his best shit eating grin as he adds the new photo to the album.

“You posted the photos what more could you need-“

“Ah, ah, ah!” He swiftly cuts you off with his finger pressed to your lips.

“Just because I finally posted those photos doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop taking photos of you, toots.” He raises a brow at you and laughs.

You let yourself smile at the absurdity of it all.

Schlatt takes your hand and begins pressing gentle kisses to it.

He continues to press kisses to your hand, as you pick up your phone with your other.

“Ted is calling me.”

Schlatt looks over to your phone, takes it, and examines it before deciding to hit decline. He tosses it to the side.

“He can wait.”

And with that, you’re once again unable to keep your hands off each other.

[szkunas]

SORRY, YOU LOST! ౨ৎㅤtoji fushiguro.

synopsis / premise ♱ㅤokay, toji needs to admit it. you’re magical, or something because he genuinely intends to change for you, as stupid as that sounds. unfortunately, he decides to go out to gamble one last time. when he returns, his worst nightmare comes true.

featuring ♰ㅤREDEEMED toji fushigiro X fem!reader.

warnings ♱ㅤANGST ! MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH ! no happy ending ! toji is a little ooc i guess ! BLOOD + DEATH ! assassination mentions ! violence + murder ! gambling addiction ! toji thinks about making you a housewife ! marriage mentions

author’s note ♱ㅤhi. im not dead, lol. just trying to post a lot of things together. i took a small time for myself, to rest, and now i think i can come back with writing with these posts and the event! <3 i hope you all like it, its my first time trying to write for toji

WHOEVER WAS THE IDIOT who invented pachinko, toji hates them deeply. it was probably some very bored and very greedy man. the world will become a better place when those tired, money-crazy expressions disappear. until then, pachinko machines and gambling games will squeeze every penny out of him. or not. no more.

there is a clear reason why some countries strongly prohibit betting shops and casinos: betting is one of the strongest addictions that runs through the sick and desperate, emptying them of their worries for a few seconds and taking the money from their wallets in exchange.

technically, gambling is prohibited both in japan and in many other places around the world: but pachinko, horse racing and speedboat racing, as well as casinos, exist through loopholes in the law. after all, everyone’s true god is money, and taking all of this off the market would shake the economy of the country that seems forgotten by any god in the eyes of toji.

he knows that spending a lot of money on bets is not the wisest decision to make, but he always has faith that he will win next time, when the next time never comes. however, he only has a percentage of his latest work. the rest was well sent where it would be safe: to you, who keeps the money safe and secure from a murderer addicted to gambling.

toji knows you want a lot. you want him to give up his life as the sorcerer killer, you want him to give up his stupid gambling habit, you want to settle down somewhere quiet and start a family. and he wants that too, even if his heart of stone doesn’t let him show it.

but, he hopes you understand that the mere fact that he lets you sleep next to him at night is a sign of trust. he trusts you not to open his throat with a knife while he sleeps, which says a lot about how he feels about you.

even though your relationship has lasted a long time by his standards, what scares toji is the fact that he doesn’t want to leave. he wants to stay, he wants to come back to you at the end of each mission. he wants to let you take care of his wounds, and he wants to dry your tears when you cry for him. in fact, he doesn’t even want you to cry unless it’s from happiness or pleasure.

which is strange.

he only knew love for one woman, and after her passing, he believed he would never again fall in love with anything other than the green notes that create his happiness and destroy his present simultaneously.

a dead wife and an abandoned child on his resume is not what any woman is looking for in a guy. his difficult personality, his history of lack of commitment, his disappearances for days and his addiction to gambling only make everything worse for him. women are drawn to toji like fish to a hook, but they don’t stay long. it lasts even less if they don’t have money or cut off this source of income from his life.

but when he hears the sounds and clicks of the surrounding machines, he can only think that he would stay with you even if you were living on an old mattress in a dark alley.

because love can be as intimidating as it is overwhelming. it can hit a man’s world with such force that it makes him rise from where he is. make him stop making bad choices and, little by little, improve to give you the life that the woman he loves wants. he looks at the nearest clock and sighs. one last game. one last time, he will spend some stupid change waiting for a prize that never comes.

and from there, who knows? and from there, who knows? stop this idiocy of gambling every last penny, work a little more so you can get by for a few months. maybe start a savings account so when you have kids things will be easier?

he waits, and stops. so many times he has seen the message of defeat on machines similar and different to this one. sorry, you lost. the most common phrase for someone who appreciates dopamine more than money in their pockets. but he is surprised when the winning pattern appears on the machine. a winning one.

toji immediately turns to an employee. okay, that was weird. he usually loses any and all bets. this is probably a sign that this is the right path. who knew, the advice of morally sensible people works. don’t use drugs (they don’t work in his system), don’t overindulge in alcohol (which also doesn’t do anything in his system), be responsible and have a stable job. he just needs to review what he achieves in that last part. sorcerer slaying is not exactly a stable job, which every wife dreams of having a husband working with.

wait, did he just mentally call you his wife? take it easy, clown. first, you have to get past your fifth dating anniversary.

but the idea is undeniably attractive. maybe if he gets some good, well-paying work beyond assassination, you can become a housewife. only if you want, of course. toji will drop dead before he forces you to do something you don’t want to do.

the idea is a little cute — really cute, actually. he loves seeing you coming home from work stressed. seeing you angry makes him strangely excited. it’s like getting turned on by playing with fire, and he just wants to make the flames burn hotter. however, he knows how to respect his space when things get serious. that’s one of the reasons he doesn’t want you in an office job.

reduced to a sad cubicle, an idiotic boss and customers as miserable as you, anxious for the time to leave or for him to pick you up. this is not the life he wants for you. okay, toji needs his own fucking car to pick you up from work. this goes on the list of what to start buying to have a responsible life.

as he changes the balls in the pachinko machine, he watches the prizes carefully. normally, it’s just junk that you sell in a random store to make real money. but there is a kind of golden pendant, a butterfly. he asks the employee and takes the item in his hands. he’s a bit of a muggle and extremely cheesy, in his vision, but it’s only fair that in his last bet, one of the few ones he wins, the prize goes to you.

you, the true angel that exists on earth. you, patient and caring, who accept his mistakes and didn’t abandon him when he gave you a thousand and one reasons to do so. you, who he would like to see at the altar and have children with. fixing his own life and making his life better, that’s what he must do now. for you.

waving to the employee who is already used to his presence — after all, toji doesn’t plan on seeing him again — he puts the pendant in his pocket and walks peacefully home, lost in thought. some idiot bumps into him in a hurry, but he’s so strangely happy he can’t even stay mad.

the guy in question looks like he’s on something, with his hands in his pockets as if he’s hiding a weapon and his pupils dilated. His paranoid face is looking in all directions, and Toji knows that look — he’s trying to run from trouble. probably fucked it up and attacked someone. toji shrugs.

well, it’s not his problem.

he just takes out his cell phone and presses the call button on your contact. toji wants to go directly home, but if you want some food or some other gift, he would like to know now. your profile picture is actually adorable, and he caught himself just a moment before smiling like a fool.

the nighttime streets of tokyo don’t stop as he presses the phone to his ear. cars go too fast, and night lights make the city seem more alive at night than in daylight. two rings, three. you don’t answer, and toji groans, checking the time before waiting a little longer. it is weird. usually you are the one who calls, or you are the one who answers almost immediately. and it’s too early, so you can’t be sleeping.

maybe you forgot your cell phone at home and went out to get something you forgot at the office. it would be just like you. he can already hear himself teasing you. airhead. he gives up calling when there is no answer after four tries. he doesn't want to look desperate.

his steps are lazy, light. he’s gotten used to walking quietly due to his line of work, but toji has his chest puffed out like someone who knows what he wants in life. this is a new and at the same time well-known occurrence. his second chance just fell into toji’s lap. not all men are that lucky. and he doesn’t intend to waste it, risk everything and lose everything again.

may his past have taught him the valuable lesson of staying close and protecting those you love.

that’s why, when he turns down the street and stops in front of your house (which has also been his house for almost two years), he freezes. there are some police cars parked in front of the door. okay, maybe some idiot tried to rob the house. are you okay? the idea of you getting hurt makes his blood boil.

but his heart sinks like a crushed animal when he sees the ambulance present. no. what the fuck is going on? he quickens his pace, not caring about the yellow tapes — oh, god, there shouldn’t be yellow ribbons. not here. not in your home, not in the safest and happiest place in the world. do not cross slaps him in the face, making his heartbeat increase. is that fear, in the back of his head?

he had goosebumps. not the good kind.

a police officer comes over to talk to him, explaining that he can’t be here, that this is a crime scene, sir. but toji is faster, his hand searching for the pendant he bought you through a stupid gambling game.

“sir, i’m going to have to ask you to leave—”

“this is my house, i live here with my girlfriend. what the fuck is going on?”

the police officer stops, as if he didn’t expect that kind of response. he checks something with another officer over the radio, and toji is about to punch everyone to go and look for you. what the hell is going on? he only left for three hours and about ten minutes. this shouldn’t be happening.

his green eyes stay focused on the ambulance, on the house that is being ransacked. your house, god, your wonderful house. he waits for you to come out from behind the ambulance, from one of the doors of the house, for you to come running and for him to hug you. but there is nothing like that. you don’t show up, and he suddenly feels like his throat is closing up.

the officer who owes him an explanation that keeps him calm and tells the truth at the same time — after all, a guy with the size of toji freaking out isn’t what anyone wants to face — gets his attention by gently clearing his throat. he looks like a newbie. excellent. you’re nowhere to be found, and toji is getting explanations from a damn newbie.

“you mentioned you live here with your girlfriend, sir—?” the man inquires, and toji crosses his arms, irritated. “can i ask where you were earlier tonight?”

“fushiguro. i’m fushiguro, yeah, and i live here for, two years now. i was out. buying stuff ‘nd all. why do you need to know?”

the officer sighs, his face sad. “you will need to make a statement later, mr. fushiguro. however, this doesn’t have to be immediately, we intend to respect your time with…”

“with?” toji grits his teeth, nearly snapping. “c’mon. i don’t have all night. where the hell is my girlfriend?”

there are some voices shouting instructions in the background, and toji doesn’t pay attention until something appears in the corner of his vision. he turns his face away more quickly than ever, giving the nervous policeman no time to warn him that he shouldn’t do that. and the sight before him makes him freeze.

the paramedics are zipping up a black bag and putting away the equipment they initially brought. toji is no stranger to blood and dead bodies—his body count is high in more ways than one—but he swears he’s never felt so sick. the butterfly pendant falls from his hands and clicks against the floor, with a slight *clink*.

it’s your body. they are putting your body inside a black bag. god, he only got a glimpse, a second, but he’s sure it’s you. pale, motionless. declared dead.

you, dead.

bile rises up his throat thinking about a million things. If he had arrived earlier, could he have helped? he definitely wouldn’t let that happen, what took him so long with the pachinko machine? Was this random, was this chosen? did they kill you because of him, because of him and his stupid career?

he wonders if you suffered. god, the thought of you scared and screaming as you fight to defend yourself makes toji almost go insane immediately. this is— real. and it is not a nightmare, where he’ll wake up besides you, on the bed. you would smile and comfort him out of his scared thoughts. but no. you won’t ever smile anymore.

never again.

he is so out of it for a moment, it’s as if nothing else exists. his ears won’t stop ringing, and it’s like his head is going to melt at any second. he turns to face the officer, who has been trying to get his attention for apparently five minutes.

“we’re sorry, mr. fushiguro. there was a complaint from the neighbors. we’re still not sure what happened, but it was certainly a homicide. maybe random. as it turned out, someone broke into the house and—”

“murdered my girlfriend.” he completes, his hands clenching into fists. toji excuses himself — and the poor officer can see the pain he’s trying to hide with anger.

he’ll probably get called out for a dozen things. identify your body. give a statement, be ruled out as a suspect, god. like he would even touch you like that. the idea is so disgusting he can’t even process it. but it does not matter. it does not matter anymore. his new, peaceful life? fuck that. you are dead.

and so is his heart. again.

toji walks away from the prying ears of the police, and he hates the fact that his hands are shaking as he calls shiu. and old friend and trustful dealer, he needs to ask two things.

“hey, shiu. when you hear this, give me a call as soon as you can. i am serious. i need another job, as quickly as possible, also.” he pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose, taking deep, angry breaths. “i need to ask a personal favor. investigate something for me, and i want the name and address of every person involved. alright?”

he wonders what will he use when he finds whoever did this. a gun? a knife? it doesn’t matter, nothing matters anymore. he steps on the butterfly pendant as he stares at the sky and wishes for blood to pay for yours being spilled.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. THANK YOU FOR READING <3

[dfortrafalgar]

I'm Losing You

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

I'm going to say this on every chapter i post here LOL, but GO TO CHAPTER 1 AND READ!!!!! MY!!!!!!! WARNINGS!!!!!!!!!!!

Chapter 3

[Prev] [Next]

You loved your office, you really did.  Two of your coworkers were your best friends from high school, the work-life balance was ideal, your bosses were super understanding and encouraging of all their employees endeavors, and the weekly catered lunches truly felt like a luxury.

The only qualm was the noise.

The office had an open layout, and while everyone had their own desk, it was very easy to move around the space and talk to everyone while on and off the job.  This meant any personal phone calls had to be taken out of the entire vicinity.  And in your case, into an unlocked broom closet across the industrial building’s hallway, in front of another agency’s door.

You were sitting on a plastic box containing something you weren’t sure of, anxiously bouncing your feet as your heart hammered in your chest.  Each time the ringback tone exited your speakers caused another cold wave of anxiety to flood from your head to the soles of your feet.  You swallowed a thick glob of spit as you struggled to maintain your breathing.  You were sure your blouse was going to have armpit stains when you returned to your desk.

Finally, a voice picked up the other line.

[Thank you for calling Grand Line Gynecology and Obstetrics, how can I help you today?]

The sweet, welcoming voice of the receptionist on the other end of the line made you breathe a sigh of relief, though you weren’t out of the woods just yet.  Far from it.  “Hi, uhm, I’m a patient with Dr. Robin, and I was wondering if I would be able to get an appointment as soon as possible.”

A few keyboard clicking noises followed your request.

[Can I have your name and date of birth?]

You quietly relayed your information, biting your lip impatiently.  More typing sounds could be heard.

[Alright, Mrs. Trafalgar, and do you mind if I ask the purpose of your visit?]

You knew it was important information for your doctor to know prior to seeing you, but the thought still made a heavy pit develop in your stomach.  “Uhm… f-fertility consultation…?  I guess.”

More clicking.

[Of course, I’m looking up Dr. Robin’s availability right now, hold on just a moment, please!]

You’ve dealt with crappy phone receptionists in the past, but whoever was usually on the receiving end of your calls to your gynecologist was always so pleasant.  You could never quite recognise her voice in person, but her bubbly and patient speech was always greatly appreciated during your otherwise anxious phone calls.  Finally, she came back onto the line.

[Dr. Robin’s next available appointment isn’t for three months, unfortunately, but I can still fit you into that time slot if you would like!  I can also write your name down, so if any appointments open up sooner, we will give you a call.]

You breathed another sigh of relief.  “That would be amazing, thank you.”

[Alright, Mrs. Trafalgar, I have you marked down for Thursday, May 1st at 10:00 AM.  We’ll give you a call if anything changes and you can always call us if you develop other concerns, okay?]

You smiled at the broom closet floor.  “I appreciate it, thank you very much.”  The phone clicked off after trading goodbyes, your arm falling onto your lap.  You hadn’t realized how tight you were gripping your phone until then, your hand trembling with how harsh your hold was on the device.  With a sigh, you opened your text conversation with Law.

Hi baby, I just called the obgyn, they cant fit me in until may 1st but she said if anything opens up theyll call me back.  Fingers crossed something opens up sooner, hopefully you dont have to wait as long!  I’ll see you later, i love youuuuu ^3^

You put your phone to sleep and stuffed it into the pocket of your trousers as you finally exited the broom closet.  An employee of the agency across from yours was entering his office and tossed you a very confused glance at you leaving the innocuous room, but you paid him no mind as you walked back into your office to continue your work.

“There you are, I was wondering where you went!”  Ikkaku was waiting for you at your desk with her work laptop in hand.  “I wanted to go over a few designs with you, but when I went to find you, you were just, POOF!  Gone like the wind!”

You laughed at her excited talking, finally sitting at your desk again and grabbing an unoccupied chair for your friend to sit in.  “Sorry to make you wait, I had to take a phone call.”

Ikkaku brushed off having to wait with a cheery, “It’s fine!  No biggie!” before opening her laptop and inputting her passcode.  You felt your phone buzz in your pocket.  While Ikkaku was opening her files, you slipped out your device and tapped the screen.

Baby~~<3

Hopefully something opens up, but it’s good that you at least got an appointment.  I got my appointment with urology on my lunch break today.  We’re making steps.  I love you, see you later.

You smiled at the text.

“Why does Law need to see a urologist?” Ikkaku whispered beside you, making you jump and hide your screen.  She was looking at you with curiosity in her big, brown eyes.

“It’s nothing, really.”  You quickly shoved your phone back into your pocket.  Ikkaku was your best friend, she really was, but the last thing you wanted to do was bring up your potential infertility issues while on the clock, and especially while your anxieties were still fresh and raw at the forefront of your brain.

Ikkaku must have sensed your profound fear, as she shrugged and turned her attention back to her laptop.  “So here’s what I was drafting…”

—

While you had to wait around three months for your appointment, Law’s was scheduled shockingly quick.  Almost too quick for his liking.  The following week.  Which, to Law’s mutual discomfort and relief, came much quicker than he thought it would.  

He was thanking the heavens above that he had the day off for once.

Law followed all the rules to a T before the appointment.  No ejaculation 2-3 days prior, but no longer than 5.  He’d jerk off into a sterile cup in the clinic, hand that to the doctor, and wait a few hours.  While waiting, he’d get his hormone blood work collected.  Easy as pie.  He walked into the clinic feeling oddly confident in himself and his abilities to follow pre-procedure protocol, as a doctor himself.  The brief moment of cocky joy was interrupted as soon as the fertility doctor entered the examination room Law was sitting in.

“Alriiiight!  Mr. Trafalgar Law!”  The doctor was shouting his name before even closing the door, making the black-haired man cringe.  The nametag on the open laboratory-style coat he wore read ‘Dr. Franky.’  Next to the name tag was a little enamel pin of a robot.  The door was closed with a moderate slam.  “You’re that cardiologist from New World Hospital, right?  You’re crazy popular, so cool to see you in the clinic!  So we’re here to check on your little swimmers, huh?”  Dr. Franky, who was shockingly tall and very broad in the shoulders, plopped into his seat and placed his laptop on the counter in front of him.  

The force of him sitting on the stool caused the pneumatic tube to compress forcefully downwards.  Law had a mental image in his head of the tube exploding and propelling the spring upward into the doctor’s ass.  He barely even registered the fact that his reputation as the city’s leading cardiothoracic surgeon seemed to have followed him to his semen analysis appointment.  He shook his head quickly before nodding.  “Uh, yeah, semen analysis.”

Dr. Franky was rapidly typing in whatever patient portal he was using.  “Semen analysis is such an uppity thing to call it, I personally like calling it the Super Swimming Meet!”  He laughed, the voice echoing around the small room and making Law wince.  He finally finished typing, slamming his laptop closed.  It was then Law noticed a few pieces of scotch tape holding the laptop’s hinges together.  (What kind of clinic is this?)  Franky’s booming voice interrupted Law’s thoughts.  “All you have to do is wank off into this cup here.  Cap it tightly and bring it to the nurse’s station when you’re done and it’ll get sent off into the lab!”

Law carefully took the cup from the doctor, his face heating up in embarrassment.  “Uhm… thank you.”

“Is there anything else I can help you with before I leave you to it?”

Law wanted to ask if there was a different room he should be doing this in, or if handing the cup to a random nurse was proper protocol, but he honestly wanted nothing more than to get out of there as quickly as possible.  He was starting to regret his colleagues at the hospital giving him clinic recommendations.  “Uhh… no thank you, I think that’s everything.”

“Alright, Mr. Trafalgar, I’ll let you get to it!”  Dr. Franky left fairly quickly, much to Law’s relief.  His ears were still ringing with the volume of the doctor’s voice.

Law was now left alone, sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair, holding the empty sterile plastic cup.  After that interaction, the last thing he was thinking of doing was masturbating, but he needed to get it over with.  For your sake, and his.

He awkwardly stood and undid his belt, letting his pants and boxers fall to the floor before placing a few napkins onto the plastic chair and sitting back down.  He shivered at the cold feeling of the napkin-covered chair against his bare ass.  This was the least erotic situation he could’ve ever experienced.  He figured it would be far from the norm, but this was beyond any expectation he could’ve developed.  He shivered.

Grabbing the cup again, Law unscrewed the cap just enough so that he’d be able to pop it open as soon as he needed to.  When he stared at his flaccid dick, however, he uttered a defeated sigh.

‘Think of something to get you hard, man, think of your wife,’ he told himself.  Even his inner voice was desperate.

The sterile doctor’s office was completely inhibiting any thoughts of you to remain permanent in his head.  Every time he tried to think of your smell, your taste, the feeling of your bare flesh against his fingers, he would inhale and take in the bland stench of sterile alcohol and plastic.  He groaned.

Reaching into his pants pocket on the floor, he procured his phone.  Opening an incognito window on his web browser, he inwardly apologized to you (and double checked that the door was locked) before opening up a porn website for the first time since he was an undergrad in college.

—

Law came home a few hours after you.  You were standing at the stove setting the oven preheat temperature, a loaf pan of uncooked banana bread sitting on the stove top waiting to bake.  You turned to ask how his appointments went, but kept your mouth shut when you saw Law kick his shoes off and sit at the bar counter in your kitchen, placing his head in his hands.

“What happened?” you hurried over to him, immediately growing anxious that he had received bad news.  Your stomach turned.

He lifted his head.  “I… I had to watch porn today.”

[sunnys-out]

I've loved you for so long (1) | Lucy Bronze

A/N: Hello! I haven't written in so long but here is something that I have been working on since the WC (she's a short one I know). I didn't post it earlier because I was moving and starting a new job but everything has calmed down and I had time to edit it. Please let me know what y'all think and hopefully, I can post the 2nd part soon! If you like my writing maybe through in a suggestion and I'll try my best! :D

Content: Angst, Fluff if you squint

{Word Count: 2004}

______________________________________________________________

I've loved you for so long

Oh, I'd forgotten how it feels

Feelings come back strong

'I've Loved You For So Long - The Aces'

Lucy and I had met, informally, in 2015 in Canada, we never played against each other in that World Cup but that didn’t stop us from bumping into each other at Tim Hortons. The couple of times that we ran into each other at the World Cup caused small conversations and laughs that left me wanting more. God, even just her smile left me wanting. 

I didn’t message her throughout our respective seasons right after the World Cup but sometimes I’d click on her Instagram profile and just scroll and see her thrive in Manchester City. Well I did drum up the courage to message once.

‘It’d probably be weird if I messaged her out of the blue right?... I mean it has been weeks  since Canada?’ I told myself as I lay on my small apartment couch in Portland.  

My thumb hovered over the send button with a slight tremble.

“Fuck it” My thumb harshly hit the screen and the quick ‘Wanted to say that you had an amazing tournament. Shame we never played against each other ♥️That goal against Canada was a banger meant to send that in Canada lol!”  message was delivered.

 I swear I threw my phone onto the other side of my couch and took a shower not expecting to see two notifications sent five minutes after me.

‘Lucy Bronze liked your message’

‘Lucy Bronze: ‘means a lot. Hope to see you again soon, miss world champion ⭐️⭐️⭐️’

I didn’t notice the smile growing as I looked at the notifications on the screen. I probably read it 20 times, setting the phone down on my coffee table and pacing the room debating whether I should respond or what I even should respond with. 

“Lucy is funny, maybe I can joke about how it’s been long or maybe just a ‘feeling is mutual’” I said aloud to myself.

‘Why am I getting worked up about this?” My hair is now messy by how many times I redid my ponytail pacing the room for 13 minutes. I kept procrastinating and just settled with getting ready for bed.

‘I’ll just respond tomorrow,’ I said, confidently,  plugging in my phone and placing it on my nightstand. That sentiment lasted about 2 minutes before I walked quickly back into my room picking up my phone, opening the message, and liking Lucy’s before responding. 

Y/N: I would love to see you again! I hope it's somewhere other than Tim Hortons even though I loved that place lol 🙂

My phone immediately locked as I got into bed and turned away from my phone. I closed my eyes tightly trying to go to sleep quickly so that in the rare probability that Lucy would continue the conversation, I could deal with it tomorrow morning, maybe ask Klingenburg for advice. Though she might scold me for fraternizing with the enemy, jokingly of course. Defenders knew other defenders right? Kling would find it funny that a right winger is flirting with a right back.

My thoughts were interrupted by one vibration and then two more in succession. My body slowly turned over to see my phone lit up still and then slowly dimming. My hand, subconsciously, went over, picked up my phone, and opened the messages seeing Lucy liking my message.

Lucy: Let me buy you a cup whenever you’re in Manchester; there are some cafes you’d like here.

Lucy: I would love to show you around 🙂 

I smiled at the messages and immediately replied without a second thought

Y/N: I will let you know because I do need a vacation 🥲

Y/N: And I would love to give you a tour of Portland, the coffee capital of the world. Worth it.

I stared at the messages until I saw a little heart appear on my last message. The little dots of a message incoming made me nervously tap the side of my phone. 

Lucy Bronze: I’ll take that as a promise 😉

Y/N: And I expect that cup of coffee in Manchester is a promise too ☺️

Lucy would only like the message and I would promptly go to sleep after waiting 15 minutes for a message that never came. I tried my best to not think about it but the feeling that came from reading her messages and the smile that would creep onto my face…I wouldn’t forget. 

Hayley Raso came into my life slowly after that. Glances turned to long stares. The lingering touches throughout practice became more than a pat on the back for a job well done. The smiles and laughs echoed off the walls of Providence Park as we walked to our cars until it was just to my car.

The weekly movie nights at my place turned into watching a show and cuddling together after practice for days on end. Another toothbrush appeared in the bathroom and suddenly my queen-sized bed wasn’t as empty. 

Mornings were met with a quick kiss, a hug from behind, and sweet nothings whispered in each other's ear.

Going to practice wasn’t done alone anymore and it was nice to have someone waiting on you if you had to stay behind to see the physio.

It was easy since we were both playing for Portland at the time and the team weren’t surprised when we told them.

 Little by little the Australian would appear in my Instagram photos and I in hers. 

The one that “broke the internet” was Hayley’s post of her kissing me on the cheek at the end of a game when the USWNT and Australia had a friendly. The one that sealed the deal for everyone was my Christmas post of photos of the party I had at my apartment. One, a particular one at the end, Hayley was in my lap while I kissed her. 

Something, however, nagged at me every time I saw a certain person's name pop up “Lucy Bronze liked your post” but I ignored it. I now know it was the feeling of the “what if” and “what could have been”. 

‘Did Lucy not want this with me? Maybe that’s why she never followed up. I probably said something to scare her away. Hayley didn’t run away’ I remember thinking to myself and as if on cue two arms snake their way around my waist. 

“Everything alright babe?” Hayley said into my back, I, immediately, felt my shoulders relax at the sound of Hayley’s voice.

I whispered, “I'm alright, just read some rude comments. You know how some people get”. I lied to Hayley; I was happy in our relationship and shouldn’t be wondering about the “what could have been” with someone that wasn’t her.  

Hayley would then go on to say that she’s told me to never look at the comments because when have the mean ones ever done something for us? She’d led me back to the bedroom to get ready for bed as we had an early practice but not after she promised to take my mind off the “negative comments”...it worked. 

______________________________________________________________

She Believes Cup March 6th, 2016, 

Lucy Bronze’s POV

We hadn’t played the United States in Canada which is a shame to not be able to play the future World Champions. Once, we had heard that we would be playing them in the She Believes Cup. I was excited for multiple reasons.

The US call up was released and I would be playing against (y/n). Since the World Cup, (Y/N) was making a name for herself as a strong right winger and playmaker for Portland and the National team.

On the pitch, she seemed cold and intimidating, but I met her as the complete opposite. 

I was able to just watch her tap her lip with her finger with her US cap on backward as she decided which pastry she wanted with her coffee at that Tim Hortons. She whistled quietly as she waited her turn and then adorably, fumbled through her order. Then humming to herself happily as she waited on the side with her warm croissant covered by a napkin.  

I was in awe of her. I had seen her play before and was always impressed by what I’d seen but never played against her. 

As I went up to order my own coffee and pastry I noticed her scrolling through her phone, laughing to herself. (y/n’s) eyes crinkle when she laughs or smiles really big. She hadn’t noticed me when I stood next to her, also waiting for my drink, there I took notice that she was at least three inches above me and that she sticks out her tongue when she is reading something. 

I breathed in and said loud enough for her to hear as she read, “I won’t tell your trainer if you don’t tell mine” I shook my little bag containing the coffee cake I had just ordered. I chuckled at the little jump she gave when she noticed me.

“Shit, sorry you scared me” a nervous laugh leaving her mouth

I extended my hand, “Sorry bout that. I’m Lucy, Lucy Bronze with England”  

She completed the handshake, “(y/n) (l/n) with the US…obviously” She pointed to her hat that had USA stitched on the back.

The conversation had good enough banter that we both remained at a table for about 2 hours talking about life and football. I could tell you that I fell for the way she looked at me with her gentle (y/e/c) eyes as she described the antics of her new golden retriever puppy named Chili she had adopted when she went to Portland.

I never really was intimidated or made nervous by any American player, especially on the pitch but watching her warm up with an icy cold expression during the She Believes Cup match made me question if the person I met at Tim Horton’s was the same person. 

I don’t think I was nervous but I lost count of how many times I would try to get a glimpse of her as she warmed up. Every time I did I’d feel the blush on my cheeks as I remembered the short text conversation that we had shortly after the World Cup. 

I regretted so much for not following up immediately; I got scared. If (y/n) asked me today why I didn’t respond, I wouldn’t have known what to say to be honest. Lack of courage was what Jill had told me as Jordan patted my back while reading the messages.  

The moment that I finally gained the courage to message (y/n) on Instagram to invite her to Manchester for a visit, was the day when I saw the picture of Hayley Raso kissing her cheek at a friendly. It was the first thing I saw when I opened the app to message her.

I remember my stomach dropping like the feeling when you don’t feel the bottom of a pool. 

I had it all planned in my head that she’d accept and I had a mini itinerary in my head of things she would’ve enjoyed and sightseeing spots. But the photo of her with her face buried in Hayley’s neck as she hugged her made the feeling worse.

Raso had beat me to (y/n) and she didn’t even know it. I kicked myself for not being brave. I would’ve had her in my arms sooner. I tell her all the time that I fell for her immediately and from meeting her I wanted more of her every passing day. 

Just seeing her across the field filled me with the tucked away feelings I had for her. I remember thinking…What I would have given to be there again talking about the most mundane things over coffee. Hearing her try her hardest to tell a joke but failing as she laughs remembering the punch line or even unconsciously speaking with an English accent when we spoke… God, I really loved her for so long.

[a-little-unsteddie]

stuck in your throat || 2.1

[here] || 2.2 || 2.3 || 2.4

i am almost done with writing ch 3, and that means i can publish chapter 2! woo! thanks for everyone’s patience! i’ll be posting twice a week! wed and sat :) this is a short part, but the other three parts are all *much* longer lol.

ch 1, part 1

masterlist

By the time Steve got home, it was a little after six in the evening, so he wasn’t sure if he would hear from Chrissy that night or not. Either way, he was very excited to be able to tell Robin that he got the job.

He felt a buzzing under his skin, an itch to do something productive, so he went to his bedroom and began to sort out his clothes. He immediately realized that he didn’t know how long the tour was going to be, so he pulled out his phone and added the question to his notesapp. How he went so long without asking about it was beyond him, as it seemed like a bit of information that was important.

Putting his phone down, Steve returned to his open closet and stared at his clothes in contemplation. It was at some point after this that he received a call, after he’d started filling a suitcase but before he’d even filled it half way.

Recognizing the number, Steve answered, “Hello, this is Steve speaking.”

“Hello, Steve! It’s Chrissy, how are you?” the woman on the other end responded with a cheerful tone.

“Hi, Chrissy! I’m good, how was your day?” he asked with a wince, god, he hated small talk.

“It was great, thanks for asking!” she answered. “The reason for my call is to let you know that you’ve been chosen as the best qualified candidate! I’ve already emailed you the paperwork that needs to be filled out, as well as details of the contract.”

“Oh, my god! Thank you!” Steve said, trying to act surprised, and not as though Eddie had already told him.

“I know Eddie already told you,” well, there went that, “but I still wanted to call you and let you know officially.”

“Uh, yes, he did tell me,” Steve admitted, slightly embarrassed, but pushed through.

He hated phone calls.

“That’s alright, I figured he would. Do you have any questions for me?” Chrissy asked, a clicking sound happening that Steve assumed was her fidgeting with a pen.

“I do, actually! Two.”

“Great! Hit me with ‘em.”

“How long should I pack for?” Steve asked, biting his lip nervously. He looked at the mess he had created of his room again, this time while trying to pack his suitcase.

“The second half of the tour is about two and a half months, but depending on how things go, you could be hired for a full time position while he’s not touring,” Chrissy answered easily, to which Steve hummed as he filed the information away. “We’ll also be sleeping in hotels some of the nights, so you’ll have access to laundry units in them.”

“Sweet! And, well, the second question might be a bit rude,” he confessed, leaning to rest his back against his bed.

Chrissy’s laughter echoed from the phone, “I’m sure I’ve been asked worse. What is it?”

“Do you happen to be hiring for any other reasons? My best friend, Robin, is looking for a full time job so she doesn’t have to work three part time jobs,” Steve explained, trying to be as appropriate as possible while inquiring about another job for a different person.

“Funny you should ask,” Chrissy said, sounding as though she were grinning, “a stipulation of Eddie getting a nanny is that I would hire an assistant to help with my workload for the band. I’ve only received two applicants, so I’d be more than thrilled to add a third to it. I’ll email you the listing to send to your friend.”

“Really? I honestly didn’t expect that to work,” Steve said, mildly impressed with himself.

Chrissy laughed again, “Well, I haven’t hired her yet,” she teased.

“Still, the only thing I was hesitant about was leaving her behind,” he grabbed a random shirt and started folding it to have something to fidget with. “I’m glad that there’s a chance. I’ll definitely have her send in an application.”

“Great! Any other questions?” she asked, to which Steve responded in the negative.

“Not at the moment, no.”

“I’ll get you the information of what we talked about, then, and you should be good. We’ll see you on the 17th.”

“See you on the 17th,” Steve confirmed with a wide smile. The line went dead, and he immediately checked his email for the documents she had sent before the call.

i tagged everyone who was tagged in ch 1, and anyone who requested it in the last part. lmk if i missed you, and if you want to be added, verify either in the comments, tags, messaging me, or your bio that you’re 18+. thank you &lt;;3

@marklee-blackmore @paintsplatteredandimperfect @steddie-as-they-go @disrespectedgoatman @lingeringmirth @hyperfixated-on-stuff @swimmingbirdrunningrock @littlewildflowerkitten @sani-86 @thegingerrapunzel @adventures-in-mangaland @missingmalfoy1 @yellowdevilkitten @extra-transitional @queen-stevie @stevesbipanic @crypticcorvidinacottage @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @eyehartart @gutterflower77 @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @fairytalesreality @dawners

[jhoneybees]

Little Nurse in Charge

Finally I'm posting another fic! I've been really missing the experience of writing so I'm getting my fogged up brain to work again lol there might be a few errors and misspelt words😅

Characters: Late60s/70sCG! Elvis X little!reader

Warnings/triggers: Age regression, little lifestyle, sickness

This is honestly my favourite moodboard🥹👇

Elvis had a long, stressful week. His schedule was hectic, being rushed from one place to another and doing a lot of recording and such was really taking a toll on him. You being his beloved partner, you worry about him. Everytime you would suggest for him to get some rest, he’d just brush it off and say he can handle it in which seeing him fall asleep in a millisecond the moment he flops onto the bed after a jam-packed day at the recording studio tells you otherwise.

Once Elvis finally gets some time off, the next morning he wakes up sore all over also having a scratchy throat, clicking his tongue in annoyance when he realises. Detangling himself out of the bedsheets , he pushes on the mattress with his knuckles and makes his way to the bathroom to find something for this “stupid cold” he mutters to himself, he stops in his tracks when he hears you stir in your sleep. Turning his head, Elvis watches your eyes flutter open, blinking blankly at him a few times before your eyebrows start to furrow and a pout forms. He sighs softly, you woke up little. Elvis pinches the bridge of his nose whilst resting a hand on his hip. How is he gonna take care of his sick self while also looking after little you? He already feels like a sack of potatoes that's been knocked about on the back of a farm truck so having to make sure your needs are met is gonna be a tough challenge, he never says no to being a caregiver for you though, he always takes up the challenge.

Elvis walks back over to the bed when you do grabby hands and he weakly chuckles “Mornin’ baby” leaning down to kiss your forehead, you respond wiggling closer to him and wrapping tired limp arms around his lower abdomen. Elvis smiles and strokes a strand of hair away from your face “Did ya get a good sleep?” answering with a small nod “Good sleep, daddy” you say while burying your face in the side of his thigh making him chuckle but he suddenly clears his throat which you didn't take notice of. “Did Daddy have a good sleep?” you ask quietly, Elvis cocks his head to the side and stares at the wall, letting out a hum as he thinks “Not really, Daddy's not feelin' too good this Mornin'” looking back, he sees a worried frown from you “Why?” questioning as you decide to sit up and Elvis smoothing your hair down. “Hm just sore and achy, baby” your concern grows, no matter if you're little or not, you always made sure Elvis is alright which sounds like he isn't, your eyes leave his to stare down at the duvet on the bed, the little crease between your eyebrows prominent as you process the situation.

Suddenly your eyes light up with an idea and you quickly scurry out of bed, pushing Elvis’ chest with your little hands “Lay down Daddy, lay down” you order and Elvis frowns in confusion “um sure.. but- why baby?” Doing what he's told, swinging his legs onto the bed and resting his head on the head board. You try to give him an authorised look but just ended up looking like an angry baby to Elvis, he chuckles slightly before he nods and raises his eyebrows at you “Daddy's sick, I- I'm look after him” explaining your plans to your daddy making him smile nervously “U-um that's real sweet of ya honey but i-i- don't think that's a good idea..” usually when you're little, Elvis would do everything for you since you just make a mess or have accidents that end up you crying or getting injured but you just shake your head “uh uh no daddy, nigh nighs’ “ telling him to just go to sleep and let you do your thing which he hesitantly accepts and gets comfortable under the covers. Elvis watching you run out of the bedroom and hearing your sooties scattering down the stairs, he laughs to himself at your funny behaviour.

After some time you arrive back through the bedroom doors with the first aid box that Elvis keeps in one of the kitchen cabinets for whenever you hurt yourself or get sick, a bit confused how you retrieved it since it's kept in a place out of your reach “H-how did you get that?” Elvis sits up and points a finger, you look at him with a pout and set the box on the bedside table “No Daddy nigh nighs!” completely ignoring his question and you push on his chest to make him lay down, Elvis sighs “Okay okay, I'm going nighs nighs, I'm goin'' closing his eyes and sighs.

As he tries to relax, Elvis begins to hear clinking of medicine bottles and ruffling of plastic packaging so out of curiosity he opens his eyes and cranes his neck “What are you doing honey?” Huffing out a breath you whine “daddy!” Elvis raising his hands in defeat “Okay alright alright, sorry” he rests his head down on the pillow again. A few moments later, a pair of hands caresses his hair away from his forehead and your voice quietly babbling “Daddy go nighs nighs..sleepy sleepy… puppy wittle puppy” Elvis's lips curve at the corners, stifling a laugh by adjusting himself in bed so he wouldn't ruin the moment for you. Your sweet nature of always looking out for people is one of things that made Elvis think he had to have you because how can he not? Of course because he's Elvis Presley but also because why not have someone like you? Someone so sweet and kind, babying him with all your love, all your devotion. What's not to love?

He sighs again as you continue to sing a lullaby that is obviously made up “Sleepy puppy…sleepy, sleepy, sleepy” The more you sing your little song, Elvis falls into a floaty sleep, soon drifting off. Bringing the covers up to his chin, you hum softly as your attention turns to the first aid box, your little hands hovering over the tops of the medicine bottles and paper boxes filled with bandages and other things that your little brain doesn't have a clue what they're used for. Picking up a thermometer, you cautiously move the blanket from Elvis' arm and slide it under his armpit. Taking a quiet step back, your eyes watch Elvis’ sleeping face with adoration and love. You’re just so lucky to have him as your caregiver, your daddy.

After a somewhat comfortable nap, Elvis wakes up. Looking around the room to find you’re not there, sitting up to rest his back against the headboard and lets out a breathy chuckle when he notices a thermometer under his armpit and shaking his head seeing your favourite stuffie being a white bunny laying next to him, thinking you must’ve put it there for him to feel less lonely.

He turns his head at the sound of the bedroom door creaking open to see you holding a tray with a bowl and spoon, pursing your lips with concentration to not spill anything. “What’s that baby?” Elvis chuckles quietly. A relieved breath emits, you place the tray on his lap “I ask Mary to make you soup!” you state proudly. With a calm nod and a loving smile, Elvis’ heart clenches “Aww… Thank you hon, that’s real sweet of ya” giggling like a schoolgirl, you climb onto the bed next to him and pick up the spoon “Hey, I- I can feed myself darlin” Elvis laughs nervously, watching as you hold the spoon near his mouth. You shake your head and whine “No! Open!” with yet another defeated sigh Elvis opens his mouth letting you spoon feed him. Even though Elvis feels nervous and on edge about you taking care of him, he does find it nice to just let you do what you want since you’re a calm little but of course still need to be disciplined now and again.

As you feed Elvis the last spoonful, you gently pat a napkin to the corners of his mouth, earning a chuckle “Always taking good care of Daddy hm?” poking at your sides playfully, you laugh and gently push his hands away. After Elvis moves the tray onto his bedside table, you decide to snuggle up with him under the blankets. Grinning softly as he sees you nuzzling your head against his chest and holding your favourite toy bunny tightly to yours. “Thank you for looking after me, little” he smiles.