#he’s a total mamas boy i love him very much

[rootspiral]

part [1][2][3]

In which I continue looking through Agatha scenes in Wandavision, I want to get to AAA nowwwwww but I can't stop taking screenshots. I forgot how good this show is

We are on episode 6 and it's naughty couture time! (so much for less screenshotting)

Oh wow, these three together, very cute and not painful in any way! Also not foreshadowing or anything.

I'm not clear on this point, did Ralph have ANY free will or was Agatha just puppeteering him at all times? Because he totally sounds like Agatha doing a half-assed Quicksilver impression. You want to know about Wanda's trauma, don't you Fietro???

Bit much there, buddy. That's right. Too much ham. Off you go.

yep, that's Agatha's manipulative ass alright. and she almost got away with it too.

Episode 7, where Agatha can't wait to get her paws on those little boys and do horrible villainous things to them (like making them snacks and watch cartoons. And some light trauma)

That's why Billy's her favorite, he's such a mama's boy.

the exact faces the three of them will make when auntie Agatha tries to ghost-mom the twins

babies are delicious

why is she being such an ASSHOLE TO WANDA OH MY GOD. psychological torture for days and days and days

IMMEDIATELY tries to bond with Billy. she's also prodding for his powers but there's genuine kindness there too

Billy genuinely likes Agatha though, that's the thing. despite everything, even in the future he instinctively trusts her and seeks her out. in a way they kind of adopt each other

why does her voice get so tender goddamnit Hahn. you know Agatha is thinking about Nicky and having so many feels

this whole dynamic really hits differently now, doesn't it?

her body language with Monica is so threatening, she's containing herself but you can see she wants to KILL

At this point Monica and SWORD are approaching and there's no much time left, so Agatha takes another big risk and openly approaches Wanda - or actually, not *much* more openly. She goes from over-the-top neighbor to over-the-top witch, the same trick she always uses, except she never went again someone as scary powerful as Wanda. She is truly gambling here, and you can tell by how rigid her body language is. She's projecting strength more than feeling it, and I think she's using señor Scratchy both as a prop for her villain persona (hilarious. that's a cuddly bunny, you idiot!) and also as moral strength, she's holding him like a shield.

^^Agatha when she's purposely being a clown and fucking with people

^^the real Agatha, razor-focused, serious, and, more often than not, cruel.

Episode 8. We now know that Evanora hates Agatha because she was born with succubus powers - born different, born evil, queer analogies abound. Jac Schaeffer says that Agatha has never been loved by her mother or really by anyone before she met Rio, so let's just sit on that.

Here we have a very young Agatha, still a teenager, already up to mischief. Interesting that Evanora does not mention her killing anyone quite yet, Agatha's crimes are about seeking knowledge, something she'll keep doing all her life. She's already a self-fulfilled prophecy, she's being bad and going against her coven because her coven calls her bad and pushes her away. This is supposedly her family, her sisters, her community. She committed a bloodless crime, and they're about to execute her for it.

She denies, Evanora calls her out. Agatha is already refining her greatest skill: deception.

Can she control it? Did they ever try to teach her? And why is she talking about her powers now? She is not being executed for stealing at all, is she? And she knows it. (Also I LOVE that when Agatha is at her lowest she resorts to beg. Her survival instincts are stronger than anything, even her pride, she is self-centered to her very core. That's the only way she could ever survive.)

Evanora starts chanting "mors monstrum innaturale", death to the unnatural monster. And, I'm sorry, that's incredibly fucked up. It gets more fucked up the more I think about it.

"Watch this, Lisa. You can actually pinpoint the second when her heart rips in half."

The coven in an excess of prudence must have decided to kill Agatha in a joint effort, just in case her powers are too much for one witch or two. They thought they would destroy the so called evil with their moral superiority, they actually had no idea of what Agatha was capable of, and by her shocked expression, neither did she - she was never allowed to explore her abilities, not to such an extent anyway.

That's the same expression again, completely focused and merciless. I know I'm repeating myself but the real Agatha is anything but bombastic. Her emotions are subtle but formidable.

When I first watched this scene 3 years ago I came to the conclusion that Agatha was conning the Salemites in order to kill them. She was absolutely not. She is shell-shocked at what happened.

Hahn is very deliberately making understated choices here. No evil cackling, no gloating, just contempt and bitterness.

And I'm running out of space again but it was worth it, this scene was so interesting to analyze. Hopefully part 3 will be the last one for Wandavision

go to part 3

[tekkenenjoyerblue]

Gotta go battery preservation mode after this but I drew my oc Arcade again! Once I’ve got power and the ability to reliably charge my stuff again it’ll be business as usual <3

[chuluoyi]

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 08:12 A.M 」

based on a suggestion! a bit short and i ran out of gojo headers :') i think i've used all them up...

a part of gojo's love entries

“why me not here?”

on one fine morning, your three-year-old son, perched on satoru’s lap, pointed at one picture during your wedding day in the album and dropped the question curiously.

“hmm, why, you ask?” satoru’s lips curled into a wicked grin. “heh. that’s because you weren’t invited. booo.”

your toddler son turned to him with wide eyes as if betrayed, shocked. “...why?”

“we ran out of invitations for you, kiddo. sorry~”

“...” your son, all with his white hair and blue eyes, looked conflicted for one minute straight, before his eyes went glassy. the very sight got satoru almost crack up.

“hey minion, don’t fry your brain over it,” he chuckled, pinching both his cheeks.

his pumpkin merely glared back at him before focusing back on the album. “evil papa!” he accused, pursing his lips into a huge pout. “what papa and mama do...?”

satoru glanced at the picture of you in your traditional kimono, smile forming in his face. “well, i married mama then.”

“what is marry?”

hmm, now that was unexpected. “well...”

“why marry?”

pressed for a decent answer but failed to find any, he blurted the first thing that popped up in his mind. “to... produce you, of course.”

“huh...?” your boy's eyes positively lit with total confusion, staring back at him with so much incredulousness.

“well, simply because it’s wrong to produce you if we are not married~”

“...” your baby son didn't understand, that much is clear with the frown in his little face, and satoru really thought he would question him further until—

“mamaaa!” he bolted out of his grasp and ran to find you. satoru immediately followed him suit in half-panic.

meanwhile, you were about to check out your cart in the online shopping platform in the living room when your son crashed himself to you. “oh my god, what did papa do to you this time?” you caught him and pulled him to your lap, somewhat surprised that his eyes welled with tears.

“papa, bad!”

“yes baby, we know that already.”

“papa said... papa and mama marry to produce!”

your eyes widened in surprise when you heard your innocent baby, and you immediately shot an irked glance at your stupid husband as he approached both of you with a snarky smile.

“he always tells on me, hmph,” he puckered his lips in defiance. “what i told him is true though, i have to marry you first to put him in the oven, no?”

you couldn't believe what he said in front of your three-year old, and were about to sentence his punishment when he suddenly pressed an index finger to your lips, silencing you.

“no, no! you can’t couch me tonight! why? because i’m paying for your cart!”

[swe3tte4rs]

Batifamily headcanons feeling jealous about their siblings spending more time with Batmom? Or something like that, however you like to write it 🙊

" Jealousy jealousy " - Batmom!Reader x Batkids

Author's note: MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR (late)!!! Love this 🫶. And I feel like this request is VERY my AU!!! Dah, who wouldn't compete for the love of their sweet and loving mother!? (The hatred between them began when Bruce had to set schedules for each one so they wouldn't fight for Batmom's attention... joke)

Also I am very sad, because when I was responding to this kind of request and I saved it as a draft, it was deleted 😭!!! CRYING 💔💔!!! On top of that, I loved the request, it was beautiful 😭! It was about Batmom as Bruce's couple and Bruce introduces Batmom to the batkids... And if it was you who sent it 🫵, let me tell you that I loved it and it will take me a while to upload it 💓!! Lov you all

And (I almost forgot to mention this), This AU of the batfamily is a mix of comics, series, headcanons (I LOVE headcanons of batfamily 💗), video games, movies and webtoon! + My main language is not English, so if you find any spelling mistakes, tell me in a comment!

Request opens 💗💗!!! BUT, before you request anything check my rules.

Dick Grayson / Nightwing

Honestly, I don't see him being jealous of his brothers at all! But since I haven't read all of his comics and in this AU he is a mix, I don't have an opinion. 👀

Let us begin.

I feel like Dick is a real mama's boy, he love his mom and he will prove it.

Dick is very used to having all of Batmom's attention to himself.

But he hides his jealousy very well, or so he thinks…

Jealousy began when Dick started having siblings. DON'T DENY ME GIRL 🤝🤝!!!

When he gets jealous that you spend more time with, I don't know, he'll go to sleep with you and Bruce, but leaving Bruce aside and enjoying your caresses in his hair while he listens to his siblings complain from outside the bedroom. (Bruce hate this, but I feel that at the same time he love it just a little bit. Very little.)

Possibly he will also rub things you did with him that you didn't do with your other children in his siblings' faces.

I think he is the only one (along with Jason) who has a complete album with photos of him as a child. So he'll show it off to others by saying that you loved him so much that you made an entire photo album of him.

He would do the same with Jason, telling him that his album has more photos and with more photos of you and Dick.

I feel like he would start a whole fight against one of his brothers just to carry all the shopping bags by himself so you don't do it. (This idea is similar to "Jason Todd is a total mama's boy" because I was inspired by it, so credit to its respective author 💓)

"Mommy, did you just call me Damian? Oh my god... my heart..." #atotaldramaqueenbaby💋💋👊👊

Jason Todd / Red Hood

Another drama queen...

A mama's boy from head to toe. (My poor baby just needed a fucking mother figure 😭💔)

He is first in everything. Do you need help opening a jar? He already opened it for you and said I love you and then left and returned to a mission.

But that's not what we're talking about right now... Nonono, we're talking about jealousy, guys...

I bet he's the most sensitive of all.

He makes sure you don't show favoritism to anyone, unless it's him, if so he lets it go.

Did you spend an extra minute with one of your other children because you didn't see the time? He is already burning in a pit of jealousy.

I feel like he would start fighting with his sibling and then he would apply the law of silence to you. But it doesn't last long because he can't resist your cute nicknames and your "you're my favorite" (you say that to each of your babies)

"Why do you call him "son"? He isn't even your son!" And he gives you a whole long speech when you were just trying to be nice to Roy.

He even gets jealous of Bruce.

He doesn't care if it's one of his sisters or a good friend of his, you can't call them cute nicknames! And even less if they are the ones you use with him!

He has good hearing, he makes sure that you call him by his nicknames and not by one of his siblings' nicknames.

"WHAT THE FUCK, MA?! Why are you washing Tim's hair with the shampoo you use with me!?!?" You broke him...

Tim Drake / Red Robin

( I haven't read almost anything by Tim, so forgive me if something doesn't add up, but I promise you that I already have more or less what his personality is like.)

Tim does not admit his jealousy, he is calmer compared to his brothers.

He might start scheduling his patrols to coincide with Batmom’s free time, ensuring that he gets to spend some time with her.

I feel like he would feel more insecurity than jealousy

But I also think he would try to take Batmom's attention away from his sibling by calling Batmom to help him do something he can easily do alone.

He wouldn't care if you treated his friends like your children. I think he would be happy.

Umh Well… I think there's not much to jealousy about this one...

Damian Wayne / Robin

Yes, I headcanon that Damian is one of the most jealous once he realizes that Batmom can give him the love that Talia didn't give him.

He is the same as Jason, he has the same percentage of jealousy.

The only thing is that he would start making arguments about why Batmom would have to spend the whole week with him and not with her brothers.

Oh, and he doesn't care what Bruce does with Batmom. Although he is disgusted by the slightest affection they have.

At galas, I feel like he would be glued to you, hugging your waist and making sure there is no threat.

If you're not patrolling, he'd be with you watching some movie. (I DON'T KNOW WHY I IMAGINED HIM WATCHING MEAN GIRLS)

"I say mom Is going to go with me first because I'm the best-" And then he was interrupted by his siblings.

There is a relationship of hate and equality between him and Jason…

"Don't you see that my mother has an engagement ring and I'm next to her, son of a- *you interrupt him*" I feel like he would say this to anyone who flirts with you.

He is not understanding why his siblings get to spend more time with her.

Mama's boy

I would continue writing, but I have no more inspiration and ideas, sorry...

Cassandra Cain / Orphan

WHY DID SHE PUT THAT NAME BRO???

Cassandra, being the quiet and observant one, might internalize her feelings of jealousy.

Cass is the last one to get jealous, honestly.

She understands that Batmom loves them all equally and there is no favoritism.

Although sometimes she doubts…

She would feel excluded every time she sees you spend more time with one of her siblings.

But putting that behind, she would know that you love them all equally and would let it go by speaking with you how she feels.

0,1% jealous.

Stephanie Brown / Spoiler

Depends…

I think she would feel jealous if Batmom shows favoritism towards others.

In itself, I don't think Steph is VERY jealous. Just... a little bit.

Duke Thomas / The Signal

I need to read more about this man 😭

He's the newest one in the batfam, but he was still able to connect with Batmom very well.

Duke is not one to be jealous, he just doesn't care what batmom does.

Although he is a similar case to Cass.

He would feel a little "insecure" seeing the ties Batmom has with his siblings.

But it always ends well with Batmom watching a movie with him.

[You can put more headcanons in a comment if you like!! And suggestions are always welcome <3]

[lymtw]

hello hello! i don’t know if you’re comfortable with writing this, but if so are you open to writing a toji x reader fic involving period sex? thank you!!! and p.s. i love your writing 😫❤️

A/N: Thank you for reading my works ☺️🫶🏼 I am totally comfortable writing this! I should really put up a post with my do's and don't's. I'll get to that as soon as I find the motivation 😃👍 Anyways, thank you for sending in this request 💙

| cw: period sex |

You don't like making a scene out of that time of the month when it comes to spending time with Toji. You don't like mentioning it to him, so whenever he wants to start removing clothes with you during that time, you always make up some excuse. You say you're not in the mood or that you're too tired or that you can help him out, but that's all, and thank god he never pushes it. He would rather take what you offer him or suck it up and bear the horniness in silence, than make you uncomfortable.

Toji knows the basics of basics of menstruation. He knows that you bleed out of your vagina for a few days, and that often times, it's an uncomfortable and painful time for your body. He knows that the fluctuations of your hormones brings on mood swings, and that you have to buy certain products to prevent you from getting blood everywhere.

"Ma," he calls, as soon as he walks through the door of your apartment. He's holding a bag of food in each of his hands. Food that you were craving and requested for him to pick up once he finished his job. Your door was unlocked so he knows you're not out, but you didn't answer him. He put the food down on the dining room table and went on to look for you. He didn't have to look too hard, because you were in your bedroom, the first room he checked.

"Doll?" He calls, again. "I brought the food you asked for. Don't you wanna eat?" He watches you from the doorway. You look down, very much so, and he knows there's something wrong because you answered him with the smallest shake of your head. He hates seeing you all curled up and seemingly lifeless like this. Your body is drowned by one of his hoodies and you're wearing your baggiest sweatpants. Though it looks comfortable, it's way too hot for you to be so covered up. He makes his way over to your bed and sits beside you. "What's up, mama? Why aren't you hungry, anymore?" He gently squeezes your hip a couple times, hoping maybe it'll make you turn to face him, but you don't. You stay curled up.

"My stomach hurts," you say, unsure of whether he heard you or not. All you know is that if he asked you to repeat yourself, you wouldn't out of frustration. You would just shake your head and go back to hurting in silence.

"Did you eat something bad?" He pauses, a small smile curling onto his lips as something else comes to mind. "Baby... have you eaten anything at all, today?" He knows sometimes you forget to eat because you get so distracted by everything else you have going on, and that pit in your stomach often makes you nauseous.

"No, it's not that. I'm on my period." You internally cringe at the use of the word. Despite the power behind being able to put up with this every single month, you can't help but feel fragile and weak at the thought of letting Toji in on it.

"Oh, doll... You should've told me this before. I would've showed up with much fuller hands." He lays on his side, and wraps his body around yours. His leg goes over yours and his hand goes beneath your hoodie and presses against your stomach. "So, your guts are mad that I didn't put a baby in you?" He says, into your back.

"Yeah, a bit," you say, thinking of the stomach clutching cramps you've had for the past couple hours.

"Damn, that's terrible. What about you, huh? Are you mad that I didn't put a baby in you?" He asks, a smile on his lips forming through the unserious question.

You can't deny that, occasionally, you've wondered what your DNA would look like mixed with Toji's in the form of a child. You always envision the cutest little boy with Toji's intense, green eyes and your beautiful hair, and Toji's sharp nose, and your pretty skin tone. You think of how much you would love him, and how you would take on that role of being a devoted and loving mother. You think of how attached you would become to the little munchkin, enough to assume that you would be the one crying on his first day of school, not your child.

"Of course not. I'm not ready to be a mom," you respond, lowly.

Toji would be lying if he said he didn't see himself having kids with you. He often imagines how you would look holding a baby girl that shares a mixture of his and your features. Part of him hopes that your graceful beauty shines, prominently, through those tiny features, but he also knows that it wouldn't be the end of the world if the child ended up looking more like him. To see you holding a mini him would heal something that runs deep in his soul. Regardless of whether your child looks like him or you or it's the perfect blend of both of you, he knows that he'll be begging to cradle them again and again, even if they are the reason he'll be losing sleep. He'll lunge towards them when they stumble and fall, he'll soothe them when they can't sleep, and he'll bear with the messiness and the unstable emotions.

"Good, 'cause..." he sighs and coils even tighter around you. You're starting to feel hot with all those heavy layers on and the additional source of heat that clings to you from behind. "I need to keep you to myself for a much longer while. I can't imagine sharing you with someone else." He smiles when you laugh quietly at the small poke offered to your stomach. "At least, not right now, 'kay?"

"Yeah, okay," you respond, genuinely glad that he feels the way he does. You don't feel ready to take that enormous step either.

"I know that means your periods will keep coming every month, but I can help you in any way you ask me to. You just have to let me know, mama." His voice conveys sincerity and concern. He's serious about you, but he can't stand being shut out like this on things that pertain to your wellbeing.

You wiggle out of his hold and flip over to face him. You smile at him as best you can, despite the storm you feel in your stomach.

"You look small, doll." He chuckles at the way you bring a sleeved hand towards his face. The sleeves of his hoodie are enormous and puffy around your arms.

"Yeah... your sweater was the only thing that was helping, earlier. I felt like the cramps were gonna kill me so I curled up in this because it smells like you."

His smile is so soft. He loves hearing that he was your best source of comfort while you were in pain. "Well, i'm here, now, so you can take that off and curl up with the real thing."

"Mm..." you drop your hand to his chest. "This is keeping me warm and it fits huge on me, so i'm comfortable."

"Come on. I'm warmer and I fit so much bigger on you than this." He grabs the material of his sweater and extends it away from your waist, before letting it go and watching it melt back into a bulky pile on you. "Yeah, this is nothing compared to me, doll. When i'm on top of you, you completely disappear."

You sigh, as if he isn't tempting you at all, but you can already picture the warmth of his body heat and it sounds absolutely divine. "Fine, fine," you grumble, sitting up to pull off the enormous blanket you had been wearing for the past three hours and tossing it towards the end of your bed.

"So, that's why you didn't wanna take it off?" He's no better than the strangers who ogle your body when he takes you out for a date night. Your chest is holding his attention like a puppy with its favorite toy.

"Told you I was comfortable," you say, fixing the twisted strap of your bra before laying back down.

"Did you not want me to see you like this?" He asks, feeling the bare skin of your waist beneath his palm.

"I just feel really gross, Toji. I showered twice and I still feel like I stink, my skin isn't clear, and my body hurts. I never want you to see me this way, but I can't stay away from you every time I go through this."

He sees this as the perfect moment for him to become your heat radiating weighted blanket, and he seizes the opportunity, splaying over you like a net before contracting his limbs around you. He really is bigger than that hoodie with the way he makes your entire body vanish beneath his.

"This..." you laugh, the sound coming out a little choppy due to the newly added weight. "...is much better," you say, your voice a little strained.

"Listen," he says. What he wants to say to you is really important, and he needs you to absorb the information as clearly as possible, so he thinks it's best if his lips are right beneath your ear, just so you don't miss a word he says. "You smell reallyyy good, but you shouldn't be scrubbing your skin raw with too many showers. Also, I didn't even notice the little pimples on your skin 'til you pointed them out. Not that it matters to me, but your skin will clear up in a couple days." He grins at the little giggles that leave you and the slight shake of your shoulders that accompany the sound. "And about the pain... just tell me what you need and I'll get it for you. Anything but a heating pad, because I like whaling on you like this." He pulls away and takes note of the beaming smile on your face. "You heard all of that, right?" He asks, making sure you're not just letting his words go over your head.

"Mhm." You hum, in response. Your hands cup his jaw and pull him closer to you. You pause when he's mere centimeters away from you and just look up at him, adoration clear in your eyes. His gaze flits between your eyes and your lips. You've always been so enticing and appealing to him, regardless of the nonsensical remarks you make about yourself. Toji has every intention of proving that he'll love you the same all the time. This time of the month is no exception.

With a lick to his bottom lip, he takes the leap and kisses you first. You smile as his lips move slowly and gently in tandem with yours. You feel a lot better with Toji around. It feels like he actually melted away your cramps with his presence. You can enjoy him because the pain in your stomach isn't as intense anymore.

He can feel the change in pace of your affection. You're kissing him faster, your hands are balling up the back of his shirt, and your breathing is getting heavier. He decides to take it step further and slides his hands beneath the cups of your bra.

"Does that hurt?" He asks, knowing that it's possible that your breasts feel tender.

"Not at all. Please, keep going. You can even squeeze a little harder," you say, a small laugh following.

"Alright, baby. You wanna take your bra off so I can get in there real good?"

You're a little nervous about where this is headed. You can feel the neediness growing between your thighs, and him touching your breasts like that is only fueling the flame. You don't know if he's innocently trying to soothe the tenderness that vanished a day before the waterfall of blood began or if he's just trying to cop a feel. All you know is that it feels good and that it's a risky decision to take your bra off even if you've already decided to remove it.

"Yeah, I'll take it off," you say, using your elbows to assist you in sitting up. He sits back on his knees as you reach behind you, towards the clasps of your bra. You take a little longer when you notice how he's staring at your chest in anticipation, practically hypnotized as he waits for you to free your tits. You swear you saw his tongue peek out to lick his bottom lip. Those naturally bright eyes of his are dark, the color almost entirely swallowed whole by his enlarged pupils. You have to try not to laugh at how strong his focus is as the cups slide down your chest and the strap ride down your arm.

"Fuuuck, look at you." He's practically drooling as he reaches his hand out to touch. He instantly feels the warmth and softness of your right breast engulf his hand. "You've got a really pretty body, doll. You know I love taking care of it," he purrs, crawling back onto you. You're pushed back onto the bed. Your head falls into the pillows, and you're instantly surrounded by Toji. He leans down, his lips brushing over your jaw while his hands busy themselves with your breasts. "You can't scare me off with a little bit of blood, pretty girl. You can't scare me off at all," he murmurs, letting his lips roam towards your neck. He rolls your buds between his fingers, smirking at the way you shudder at the more intense stimulation. "That feel good?" He asks, hearing the low hums coming from you.

"Mhm... it does." Your cunt throbs with need as he continues tweaking your nipples, brushing them with his thumbs, rolling them with index fingers before pressing them a little. He sucking on that sensitive spot on your neck, really putting in the work to make you want him, badly. "T-Toji..." you whimper.

"Yeah, I know, sweet girl. Just wanna help you feel better." A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest at the feeling of you squeezing your thighs around his waist, chasing friction for your needy cunt. "Need some help with that? Want me to rub your little clit?"

You're too distracted by the pleasure you derive from grinding against his lower abdomen to notice his hand leaving one of your breasts and trailing down your stomach. Just as his fingers go beneath the waistband of your sweatpants, you snap out of your daze.

"No, wait- That's dirty," you say, scooting backwards.

"What are you talking about?" He asks, rhetorically. "It's a part of you. I don't care if any part of me gets covered in your blood."

You look away from him, flustered by his admission. You've never allowed him to touch you down there while you're on your period. This might have been the first time you've directly told him about it, too, so before then, he was just left to assume.

"I'm not a pea brained little boy, and you're not gross for this, baby. Just let me help you feel better."

You contemplate it for a few seconds. You've never done it like this before. The mess would be extreme. You'll be overthinking the things that run through his mind the entire time. Would you even be capable of getting into the mindset necessary to enjoy it when you're so worried about what Toji's thinking?

"Please, mama. Let me make you feel good." He runs a hand over your shin, hoping to soothe your nerves about this.

Your thoughts were starting to loop from how much you were overthinking it. A whole lot of 'what is Toji going to think?' and 'what if he can't go through with it after seeing all of it?' swirling around in your head. The thoughts were going nowhere but down, so you eventually just let yourself go. "Okay," you respond. "Can I just have a minute before we..." you raise your brows, allowing the gesture to finish your sentence.

"Yeah, of course. Take your time." He retracts his hand, allowing you to rise off the bed and make your way to the bathroom.

You're nervous. You don't know what would compel Toji to want to do something like this. You'll accept that it's for your benefit, but what does he gain from this apart from getting a blood covered dick? You know he won't put on a condom. He practically whines every time you tell him to either put a condom on or pull out. Neither of those options are viable for him, so he sweet talks you until you let him go in raw and cum inside you. He always thanks you for staying on birth control. His appreciation is genuine, too. It's not just some douchey speech where he says 'thank you for taking pills so I don't have to stress about cumming inside you'. It's a real, hug and kiss, 'I love you' deserving, appreciation.

You walk out of the bathroom after removing your menstrual product, wearing just the panties you had on and your darkest colored towel wrapped around your hips. That pair of underwear is not your prettiest pair, so you're fine with ruining them so that you don't ruin your carpet on your walk back to the bed.

"Everything alright?" Toji asks, eyes glued on you the second the bathroom door opened.

"Yeah. All good," you assure, sitting on the edge of the bed. You felt as anxious as you did the first time you and Toji had sex together. It was visible in the way you kept your eyes on your folded hands and how you toyed with your thumbs.

"Don't be nervous, baby. It's just like every other time." He smiles at you as you continue to stare at your lap. "You wanna put the towel down?"

"Oh, yeah." The second the towel is unwrapped from your lower body, you feel your anxiety double, knowing that the stain on your underwear is visible. He can see you crossing your legs to try and hide the stain. It's cute, but futile, since he'll see it much more clearly in a few seconds. You're unnecessarily straightening the corners, as if the towel isn't going to be moving around once things get going.

"Good. Now, lay down for me," Toji instructs, the words making your heart drop. "Need you to get all comfortable."

You hesitantly crawl onto the towel and lay on your stomach, concealing the stain on the front of your underwear.

"Flip over, doll. Wanna look at that pretty face." He can tell you're doing everything you can to hide what he expected and already saw. You flip onto your back and cross your legs. "Come on, pretty girl. Don't be embarrassed. It's just me."

You sigh and uncross your legs. Seconds go by and your cheeks are scorching, embarrassment coursing through you so fluidly, not knowing that the sight makes Toji feral. The color, the fact that you're free bleeding and the stain is growing as time goes by, the shame it brings you from not being able to stop it. It's all going straight to his dick. It was already straining in his boxers, but now it's throbbing.

"Good girl," he praises, running his hands up and down your thighs. You feel hot under his gaze. He's not making his attention to your stained underwear subtle at all. You just want to put a pillow over your head and let him do what he has planned.

"You're so cute," he says, reaching a hand towards the loud color between your thighs. He feels the warm wetness beneath his thumb as he tests the waters and rubs your clit through the scarlet tainted garment. He watches you squirm at the touch, your stomach rising and falling erratically at the stimulation. "So warm, baby." He can see the color adhering to the edges of his thumb as he continues to stroke your throbbing clit.

"Toji..." you gasp.

"Yeah, baby. I know."

The smallest pinch between your brows appears as the stimulation continues. It's slow enough to keep you comfortable, but you want more, so you attempt to trap his hand between your thighs so that you can get off on it.

"Open, doll. Keep your pretty legs open for me." He grins at the shuddered breath you release as you release his hand.

"P-Please, Toji. Please, more," you whimper, feeling yourself get closer and closer to your peak.

He's notices how the blood reached higher up the front of your underwear. Right over where he's rubbing your clit, the material is soggy beneath his fingers.

"I'm gonna make you cum all you want, but not like this," he says, abruptly stopping the movement of his fingers. He bows forward and kisses from your slightly heaving mid-center to your lower abdomen. The irony smell of your blood is heavier as he nears the elastic of your panties.

"Let's get these off," he murmurs, hooking his fingers into the garment. Your heart is racing all over again at the thought of him seeing the whole thing, uncensored. The uncontrollable drip of your blood, the messy aftermath of it being smeared and played with by his fingers over the thin barrier of your underwear. It's not presentable, compared to what he got from you every moment before this one. Far from it, but he proceeds with his fearless curiosity, dragging your panties down your hips and thighs, above your knees and swiftly down the rest of the way. He puts them down beside you on the towel before carrying on with you.

In no way would he ever try to embarrass you over something like this, especially since he knows you're more emotionally sensitive right now and even the smallest amount of teasing might hit a little harder than intended. He looks at the overload of red smeared all over your cunt, on the folds, lathered over and through your slit, and streaked over your inner thighs. All he can think about is how cursed you must feel every once in a while to have to go through this every month. He's not stupid enough to think alike to those men who say they would bear the pain a lot better than women and that it's nothing compared to being kicked in the balls. He would take the pain for you in a heartbeat, but since science hasn't progressed so far to make that option a reality, he'll do what he can to help you in other ways.

You watch, intently, as Toji observes what he's seen plenty of times before. You feel different from every one of those times, despite him telling you that this time will be no different. You feel like your heart is about to lurch from your chest because all he's doing is looking. You know it's unappealing. You would give yourself to him entirely clean in this moment if you could.

"I wanna bury my face in there so badly. You know that?" He's so hard at the sight. His dick is twitching at the thought of using his tongue to clean you up. "I'll make it up to you in a couple days," he says, working his constricting boxers off. "Gonna feast on you. Hold these pretty thighs back when you try to crush my skull."

You don't think you've ever felt so withheld by him. Here he is, about to fuck you during one of the few days you refrain from letting him touch you this way, while talking about how badly he wants to devour you. You wouldn't call it unfair of him to tease you with this promise, he just has no other choice. Normally, his mouth is the first thing he gives you when things are getting hot and heavy, but for now, he can only use that mouth to kiss you and verbalize his desire.

"Don't look so nervous, doll," he says, his voice honeyed and his touch gentle on your skin, like he's shooing away all those negative thoughts that threaten your ability to enjoy this. "This is me taking care of you."

Toji did a good job of making you forget that this wasn't just normal sex. You were fed assurance, visually, audibly, and tactically. The second he thrusted into you and felt your incredibly warm and wet walls cling around him, his gaze darted up to meet your eyes. He looked back down for a split second when his hips pulled back, just to see the way you coated his shaft.

He understands that this is intense for you, that you're presenting yourself in a vulnerable state to him, but he's determined to make you understand that he will always try for you. It comes down to him knowing your wants and needs, and when they aren't so transparent, he counts on you to trustfully tell him about the things he can't openly assume.

He's overly generous with your pleasure, going on and on for you, chasing your orgasms with no intention of stopping until you tell him you've had enough. "Come on..." he groans, a deep chuckle following when he sees the way your arms are thrown over your face. "Come on, doll. Give me some attention." He's saying this because he's about to cum, again. He wants to look at you as he spews another load into you. He wants to see the expression on your face when you feel his cum overfill you, again. You lift your arms above your head and expose the way your chest heaves even more to him, but more importantly, the weary and glassy eyes he loves so much.

"Yeah, fuck... Just give me those eyes for a while, gorgeous." He's panting and his hips are stuttering as he stares you down, his lust-filled gaze giving you the illusion of being pressed into the mattress. One hand splays over your waist while the other focuses on nudging at your clit.

The added stimulation makes you jolt beneath his touch. It's heavenly and you want more, and you're right there. "F-Fuck... Fuck, please... Please!" you beg, feeling like you're melting beneath his touch. Your nails dig into the pillow beneath your head in an attempt to stay still for him.

"I know, mama. I know. I got you," he coos through choppy breaths, rubbing your clit fast enough to have you squirming against him. He watches dazedly as fresh crimson decorates his fingertips, anew. The pace of his hips becomes sporadic with his own peak nearing. He's about to bust again with the way your gummy, lubricated walls snuggly wrap around him.

With just a couple more thrusts and the ongoing stimulation offered to your clit, you gush all over him again, a mixture of your cum and blood rushing out of you and onto him before dripping onto the towel beneath you. "Oh my- T-Toji, oh fuck!" Your back arches off the bed, your head thrown back into the pillow as you cry out in pure ecstasy.

Toji is pulling you into his quickened thrusts, putting your tired, pretty body to work so that he can finish, too. He's following after you just a minute later, a deep, growl-like groan leaving him as more of his thick cum is shot into your ruined cunt. His chest rises and falls, long, heavy breaths exhaled through his parted lips. his neck glistens with sweat and dampened strands of hair stick to his forehead.

"How are your guts?" He asks, his words still somewhat breathy as he works to recompose himself after pulling out of you.

"Good," you respond, echoing back that tiredness. "Out of place, but good. That... that did it. No more pain." You think that if you shut your eyes for longer than ten seconds, you'll doze off. As if Toji would let you wake up feeling dirtier than you did before you let him get his hands on you.

"Hey," he calls, tapping your outer thigh. You hum in disapproval of having to open your eyes again. "Doll, we have to get you cleaned up." He taps you again.

"Five minutes," you whine, shutting your eyes tightly before pulling the pillow out from beneath your head and throwing it over your face.

"None of the whining, mama. It's for the best and you know it." He doesn't go on because you don't respond, presumably dozed off. He pulls the pillow off your face and becomes the target of your pointed gaze when light floods your vision again. "I'm not gonna stop bugging you until you get up." He's fighting the urge to tease you about wanting a kiss for that alluring pout on your lips. "Don't you wanna take a nice and cool shower with me?"

"I'm stuck," you groan, exaggeratedly dropping your arm after your feigned weak attempt to move more than a couple inches. "Can't... move."

"Your level of drama outshines the best actors, doll. I see right through it."

You can't even hold back a giggle at that. You clutch your chest and continue on with the theatrics. "Ouch. My stomach doesn't hurt anymore, but there's suddenly a really sharp pain in my chest. So, this is what taken back love feels like, huh?"

Toji snickers at the sound of your pathetic words as he crosses the ends of the towel over your lower body. Once the towel is wrapped securely, his arm goes beneath your knees, and the other settles on your lower back. With one swift motion, he lifts you off the bed and starts for the bathroom. He knew you had no intention of moving on your own, so he took the initiative. "Now you're a poet? You would never make it through heartbreak poetry." He looks down at you with a sly grin. "You would be making it all up, because you know how much I love your dramatic self."

You laugh. "Yeah... i'll never be a heartbreak poet." You don't sound like you're at a loss at all. You said it with a smile on your face. You've never been more happy to have lost a path like that.

"That's too bad, isn't it?"

[4ngels0uls]

Truth or dare?. - Chris sturniolo

Based on this along with this video

Don’t like? Don’t read.

Summary: Chris, Matt, nick, Johnnie, Jake, Tara, sam and colby, Larray, reader/y/n?. All are having a small party all together as you all get to play truth or dare 😏 but you and chris are also dating.

Paring: fem!read + dom!(?)Chris

Warnings: SMUT, alcohol (all over 21 totally), weed, frat boy Chris, oral sex, rough sex?, pet names (mama, slut, good girl, etc.), hair pulling, humiliating, etc.

A/N: smiling Chris🤭🤭 I LOVE THSES😸 NO CHEATING BTWW. Also don’t know if there’s any mistakes cuz I don’t re read🙂

————————————————————

Y/ns pov

All of us sit in the living room on the couch, taking sips and shots while you and Chris smoke a blunt. You inhale the smoke feeling it in your lungs. You pass the blunt to Chris as he’s talking to Matt about how to properly inhale a joint.

“Bro you just suck in like your breathing.” Chris states as everyone is talking to each other. You sit back as your high start to kick in. You look at Chris and chuckle a tiny bit. He looks at you and smiles. Your eyes feel a bit more droopy than they did before.

Chris passes the joint to Matt and Matt inhales and chokes on it. You and Chris chuckle as he chokes. “You good Matt?” Nick asks with concern. “M’ fine” as he chokes.

A little while well.. like 2 minutes later more like, Matt starts to giggle. You and Chris look over at Matt giggling while staring at the roof. “I’m scared!” Matt screams and curls into a ball as everyone starts to stare at him. “Are you okay…?” You ask.

“FINE!” He yells back. Your eyes go wide as he shouts at you. “We should play truth or dare.” Larray speaks up. Everyone agrees to play truth or dare. “I’ll go first.” Larray says.

“Tara truth or dare?” “Dare.” Tara smirks. “I dare you and y/n to peck on the lips.” Larray says as he smirks. You look over at Chris and he look you and rolls his eyes in a joking sassy way.

Tara walks up to you and leans in giving you a small peck. Chris pulls you into his lap. “Your turn tara” Larray speaks. “Johnnie truth or dare?” “Dare” Johnnie stares at Tara.

“I dare you to kiss Jake like how you did on my birthday” Tara speaks with sas. Johnnie’s and Jake’s jaw drop. Johnnie sighs and stares at Jake and pecks him fastly. Everyone starts laughing.

Johnnie asks “Jake truth or dare?” “Truth” “is it true that your penis is a shrek ear?” Jake laughs. “Yes very much.” He says with sarcasm as everyone laughs. You dig your face into Chris’s neck. He starts to kiss you, slowly making out.

“Nick truth or dare.” Jake speaks. Nicks eyes go wide. “uh dare..” nick speaks with nervousness. “I dare you too give Matt a big hol hug” Jake speaks as he smiles knowing nick doesn’t really like big hugs.

Nick sighs and gets up and hugs Matt and Matt hugs tightly. Nick sits back down and turns towards you and Chris. “Y/n” nick smirks. “Truth or dare.” You pull back from the makeup sesh you and Chris just had. “Dare.” “I dare you to make at least 3 hickeys on Chris’s neck.” Nick speaks with a devilish stare.

You lean into Chris’s neck, kissing all around so you can find his sweet spot. He groans when you kiss a certain spot and you start sucking on his neck as Chris has his head up squeezing his eyes shut. You pull back with a pop and see a dark purple hickey start to form in.

You smirk and start to suck in another spot sliding your tongue against his neck making him groan out loud. He looks the other way at the wall where no body is. You pull back with a pop and find another spot and start to suck one last time.

You start to feel Chris grow a boner in between your thighs. You bite down a bit so it’s not enough to hurt him. You pull back with a pop and now he has three big purple hickeys on his neck. He now has very rosy cheeks.

Everyone stares with shock. We stare back with embarrassment. “uh… sam truth or dare…” you speak up. “dare…” “I dare you to try to do a perfect cartwheel” sam sighs and stands up and does a perfect cartwheel first time.

Your eyes widen with surprise. “Truth or dare colby.” Colby sighs. “Dare..” “I dare you to tell everyone here your body count if you don’t want to it give Jake a lap dance.”

“Yeah give mama bear a lap dance” Jake jokes around. Colby sighs and stands up and walks over to Jake and starts giving Jake a lap dance. “Yeahhhh!” Jake yells as everyone giggles. You turn to Chris as he whispers in your ear “y/n it hurts badly… please..” he begs “go to the bathroom and I’ll follow you.” You tell him.

He gets up and walks to the bathroom as you follow him. “Ohhh Chris is going to go bone y/n!!” Larray yells. You roll my eyes and go into the bathroom with Chris.

He closes to door and pins you against it, kissing you roughly. He tugs on your shirt signalling you to take your shirt off. You peel the shirt off your body revealing your dark blue lace bra. His eyes widen at your breasts sitting down nicely. He picks you up and sits you on the sink with the counter.

He pulls your sweat pants down revealing your dark blue lace panties “matching huh?” He smiles. He peels your panties off, seeing how wet you are. “Fuck y/n…” he groans quietly. “So fucking wet.” He groans again while making circle motions on my soaking clit.

You bite your lip to keep control of not being too loud. He burys his face in between your thighs. His tongue ficks on your clit. You let a soft moan out with biting your lip almost drawing blood. He goes more down and sticks his tongue in your hole, making his nose bump your clit each time. You let a moan go but not to loud…. You hope.

“Fuck Chris..” you moan try to moan quietly. He groans at the sound of you moaning his name. You grind your hips into his face. He starts to suck on your aching clit and sticks his two fingers in you, his middle and ring. He curls them inside of you directly hitting your g spot.

You squeal quite loud and him hitting your g spot. He slaps his hand over your mouth. He fastens his pace with his fingers making you start to squirm.he holds your thighs down. I poke my tongue at his hand letting him know I’m close.

He hums against your pussy making the knot in your stomach completely snap in half. You cum all over his mouth. He pulls back with your cum dripping off his chin, making him look like a cum zombie. “You taste good mamas.” He compliments. He kisses me and you groan at the taste of your own self in his mouth.

You get up on the sink counter and get on your knees in front of him. He undoes the string on his sweatpants and he throws his pants down with his boxers. His member slaps on his stomach. You look up at him. “You really finished from eating me out?” You say with a whisper. “shut up…”

You run your finger on the slit on his tip with all of the pre cum and cum on his dick. He groans at the feeling. You kitty lick his tip. “don’t fucking tease y/n” he says with frustration. You put your whole mouth of his erect member. You start bobbing your head up and down.

He pushes your head down making you gag along with your nose touching his pelvis. You shake your head around his dick making him groan and grab a fist full of your hair. ���

He groans quite loud but not enough for everyone to hear. Probably just for Matt… he shoots his warm cum down my throat. You look up at him and stick your tongue out to show him you swallowed his load. “Good girl..” he whispers. He bends you over the sink and slides his member inside of me with ease. He thrusts inside you like you’re a fuck doll.

Our skin slapping against each other along with the whimpers and moans coming out of our mouths. The music that’s playing is canceling the noise of what’s happening. He pulls your hair back. “Fucking giving me hickeys in front of 8 fucking people huh?” He pounds your pussy like he’s never going to get to again. “Look at yourself in the mirror as your almost fucked dumb you slut.”

“Do it or I’ll stop.” He demands. You look at yourself in the mirror, your tits swinging at each thrust he does. “c-cum!” You manage to spit out. “Cum on my dick you slut.” He tells. You release your cum as it covers his dick with his balls. He continues to thrust as he cums inside your pussy, making your walls be painted white.

He start to thrust again, but this time he’s faster than he was before. “C-Chris! Chris!” You moan. He covers your mouth with his hand. Tears form in your eyes from all the pleasure. His balls slapping against your clit. He slaps your ass making a sharp sting on your ass. You squeeze your eyes shut fast.

He rubs your clit fastly. Your legs start to shake and you release your cum, covering his dick completely now. He cums his one last time. He slowly pulls out to make sure not to overstimulate you too much. He grabs a rag and wets it slowly cleaning you up. “You did so good handling my cock, baby.” He coos. You smile as him and you go to walk and your legs wobble.

“Chris…” you whine. He chuckles at you at the guys fix yourselfs and open the door exiting the bathroom and go back to the living room. He piggybacks you for you to be able to follow him.

You guys sit down exactly where you guys were before and they’re all watching YouTube. “where did you guys go?” Nick asks. “They went to the bathroom and fucked each other.” Larray responds before me and Chris could. Everyone stares at us. “did you guys actually..?” Nick stares in shock. “Try to walk y/n.” Larray smirks at me. “I want to see you walk.” Larray says again as everyone stares.

You look at Chris and he throws his hands up. You sigh and get up to try to walk and you wobble and fall over. “Fucking disgusting!” Nick yells. Chris walks over to you and helps you up and takes you to his room. He lays on the bed with you and you stare at him. “Do you think nick thinks I’m disturbing and disgusting now?” You ask Chris.

He sighs “no, he loves you he just can’t comprehend what we did.” Chris comforts.

Chris smirks. “Truth or dare?” He jokes. “Shut up!” You joke.

Truth.or.dare…?

————————————————————

A/N

HELP ME.. THIS TOOK TWO HOURS TO WRITE. MY FINGERS ARE HURTING. (I’m way too dramatic.)

AND FUCK THE POLL I HAD

[thriftedtchotchkes]

switching the positions

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: a collection of micro-fics chronicling the days of a very eventful week in the lives of you and joel miller (inspired by ariana grande's positions)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, pre-outbreak, established relationship, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, smut, unprotected piv, rough sex, oral (f&m receiving), 69ing, mutual/guided masturbation, edging, mild exhibitionism, consensual somnophilia, squirting, rimming, unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy kink, pregnant sex, panic attacks, mentions of parents, mentions of food

word count: 16.2k

moodboard by my sweet girl @cavillscurls ♡

a/n: whew, my pride and joy, a whole two months in the making. tysm to everyone who voted on the poll, and especially to @dinsdjrn for helping me tie this whole thing together and mya for listening to me yell about this for weeks. as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated!

SUNDAY

"Boy, I'm tryna meet your mama on a Sunday."

“She’s gonna hate me.”

“She’s not gonna hate you.”

Oh, you know this woman is going to hate you. It’s not that parents don’t like you. On the contrary, you actually get along great with people’s parents. Your friends’, your old roommate’s, your coworkers'—hell, even your own. It’s just that moms, specifically, can smell fear, and Joel’s mom is going to smell the terror wafting off of you from a mile away. 

Not that it’s personal or anything. You’re pretty sure she’d hate anyone dating her baby boy. It’s like, a boy-mom thing. Still doesn’t make you feel any better about your boyfriend’s mom potentially hating you.

“Whose idea was this dinner again?” Because if it was Joel’s, then he can still reschedule or fake an illness or, better yet, call the whole thing off.

“Baby, you know it was hers,” he replies from his spot at the edge of the bed, where he’s been watching you pace the room and throw half the closet on the floor for the past hour. You shoot him an exasperated look.

“But did you have to say yes? Isn’t it kind of early for me to be meeting your mom anyway?” 

He looks at you like you have ten heads, but you ignore him, debating two shirts in the mirror, then deciding they’re both terrible and adding them to the pile on the floor.

“It’s been a year and a half. If we wait any longer, she’ll be meetin’ you at the weddin’,” he sighs, running his hands frustratedly down his face. You pause your closet tornado to stare at him, wide-eyed, and he rolls his eyes. “I’m just sayin’, I think it’d be good for y’all to meet, is all.”

Good for who? Certainly not you. Honestly, this dinner could have serious repercussions for your relationship. It’s entirely possible she could convince him to break up with you after the night’s over. Or that you’re a bad role model and shouldn’t be allowed around Sarah anymore. Your stomach lurches violently at the thought. Then, it hits you—

“Okay, yeah, that’s fair enough—but have we thought about who’s gonna watch Sarah tonight? We can’t just leave her by herself, and I’m sure your mom would totally understand that,” you try to reason but, again, Joel’s not going for it. 

“She’s 14 years old, I think she can handle a couple hours alone,” he deadpans. “Baby, c’mon, it’s not gonna be that bad. Please? Is it really too much to ask for the woman I love to meet my momma?” 

You soften at that. Logically, you know he’s right and it’s not fair for you to keep giving him such a hard time. You’re also pre-judging someone really special to him, and now you feel like the shittiest girlfriend in the world.

“You’re right. I know you’re right—I’m sorry,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself. You’re not sure why you’re feeling so insecure about all this. “I just want her to like me, you know?”

He nods, lips quirking into a small smile, and pats his lap. You fall into his arms and he rocks you for a moment, kissing your hair, then your cheek. The anxiety’s starting to subside and you’re grateful for him, your sweet boyfriend who never asks you for anything. Your eyes meet his, and he leans in to kiss you softly, deeply, then pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against yours.

“I know ya do,” he murmurs, rubbing soothing circles into your thigh. “And she will, alright? Just give her a chance like she’s givin’ you one.” 

So, for Joel, you do. Turns out his mom is lovely and wonderful, just like her son, and now you have a lot to make up for.

MONDAY

"Then make a lotta love on a Monday."

It’s early and yet, somehow, you’re already awake and feeling like it’s going to be a good day. There’s no alarm clocks blaring, no feet stomping up and down the stairs. Just sweet, blissful sunlight, and it feels so good this morning. Warm and wet and, god, right there—please, keep going right there.

You reach out to feel its light against your hands and between your fingers, and it hums, sending sweet vibrations up your arms, all the way down to your thighs. Heat starts to bloom in your belly as the sun rises higher, burning hotter and hotter, and your fingers tense, tugging at its soft rays. 

Everything feels so much wetter now, and there’s no way you’re not sweating right through your shirt and into the sheets. Even your underwear is soaked, your cunt pleasurably slick and dripping as you pant softly into your pillow.

Then, all of it suddenly intensifies and you’re enveloped by a wet, dextrous warmth that circles and circles, dipping into you, fucking into you, and suddenly, you’re so, so close—

And then you’re cumming with a loud sob, hips bucking with every spasm until something broad and strong splays across your stomach and pushes you back down into the sheets. 

It's…you realize it’s Joel. Balmy and beautiful like the morning sun. He groans as you gush into his mouth, lapping up everything you give him, and you’re vaguely aware of the bed shifting under you as he grinds his hips into the mattress for relief. 

“…B-baby? What—what’s going on…,” you slur sleepily, hands tugging harder at his hair as he continues to suckle your clit through the aftershocks. You whine at the oversensitivity, and he pulls off to press one last kiss to your heat before throwing the sheets off behind his head.

His eyes meet yours and, fuck, he looks wrecked. His hair is in complete disarray and his eyes are a little wild…and then there’s the giant tent in his boxers and that delicious wet spot that makes your mouth water. He doesn’t respond—just crawls up your body to crash his lips against yours, licking into your mouth, and all you can taste is yourself when his tongue brushes against yours.

You moan into his mouth as he grinds into your sensitive core, then parts from your lips just long enough to pull your sweat-soaked shirt up and over your head. The cool morning air feels like heaven against your feverish skin and, with the sheets gone, you can feel a cool breeze coming through the open window, amplified by the oscillating fan next to the bed.

Christ, he must be so pent up by now. Your brain is finally starting to clear from its post-sleep fog, and now you’re wondering how long he’s been between your legs, eating you out like you’re the heartiest breakfast he’s ever had in his life. 

But that train of thought is quickly derailed when his lips find a new home around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth and circling his tongue around the nub until it hardens. The delicate skin feels especially tender, and you whimper quietly as the roughness of his beard scrapes against you. Your fingers thread back into his hair and you tug, urging him back up so you can feel his mouth on yours again. 

“Joel, fuck me,” you murmur against his lips, and his breath hitches. “Wanna feel you—please.” 

The sensitivity must’ve already subsided because your hips are steadily meeting his and you’re feeling so desperate to have him inside you. His cock feels heavy as he rubs himself against your slick cunt and, while the fabric provides the most incredible friction when it grazes your clit, you want him bare immediately. 

“Now…ngh—now,” you whine, and you’re stunned he still has the patience to tease when he pulls away slightly to smirk down at you.

“Needy girl this morning, ain’t ya?” His voice is thick with sleep and so much desire, and it makes your still locked-down pussy clench painfully. “S’alright, baby, ‘m gonna give it to ya.”

Wrenching his boxers down, he grips under your legs to push both of your knees to your chest before nudging the blunt head of his cock against your entrance. He inches in just the tip and immediately lets out a whoosh of air.

“So fuckin’ tight, Jesus Christ,” he grits through his teeth, working himself in and out of you until he’s buried to the hilt, the coarse hair at the base of his cock brushing against you just right. He lingers for a brief moment, grinding into you deeply, languidly while you adjust to his girth.

"S'good. Feels good," you murmur, sighing contently. He's brushing that spot he can only reach when he fucks you like this, so you lock your ankles behind his back, silently telling him to stay. But it feels a little selfish, and you can feel how much he's holding back.

"Baby...I gotta move," he pants, trembling with the effort it's taking not to lengthen his thrusts. Pulling out slowly, he presses back into you deep enough to nudge that spot again, and your vision goes hazy. "Promise, I'll take care of ya—"

You moan in unison as you flutter around him, and he takes that as the go-ahead to continue, his cock reappearing wetter and shinier after every stroke. His skin is glistening, too, slick with sweat that runs down his temples and pools where your bodies connect. 

The heat of him is addictive and it's everywhere—blooming in your chest, blazing between your legs, and igniting something fathomless inside you. But somehow, it's still not hot enough. You know he can give you more, your blindingly beautiful sun.

Wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders, you squeeze your thighs into his sides to pull him flush against your body, and you can feel his heartbeat pounding through his chest. The steady rhythm matches his thrusts perfectly, but he's groaning so sweetly in your ear that you have a feeling it won't for long.

You belatedly realize how hard you're clenching around him, suddenly so close to tumbling over the edge for the second time this morning, and he redoubles his efforts to follow you.

"L-like that, keep going just like that," you encourage between sharp exhales. "That—that's it."

He braces a hand next to your head on the pillow to stabilize himself, and you wrap your fingers around his wrist, grounding yourself to him. His eyes meet yours fondly before he buries his face into the crook of your neck to do the same, panting heavily against your skin.

Soft, brown curls tickle your cheek, and you turn your head to nose into his hair, breathing him in. He smells earthy like freshly-mown grass and sawdust, and it fills your lungs, surrounding you just when you need it the most. 

You gasp in his air, hips swiveling into his desperately as you chase your release. He's slamming directly into that spot now, pushing your knees back into your chest to reach even deeper, but his thighs are starting to tense.

"'m not gonna last long," he admits breathily, all but folding you in half so he can brush his lips against yours. "S'too good...gonna make me cum so hard."

"Please...please, please." Fuck, you want to feel it. To feel him pulsing inside you, filling you up so good, so much. "Joel, cum—please cum."

So close, you're so close. Your soft sighs have evolved into something louder and higher-pitched. Too loud for this early in the morning, and enough to wake up the entire house if you're not careful.

Joel seals his mouth over yours, swallowing every noise that escapes your lips as he pounds into you with purpose, dragging against your walls, and it's...fuck, you're—

Gushing, sobbing as you cum, and he groans, long and drawn out, immediately following you over the edge. Releasing your legs, he digs his fingers into your hips to hold you in place, keeping his cock buried deep inside you as you milk him dry.

"Fuck me," he exhales shakily, pumping into you twice before pulling out and collapsing on top of you. "Good fuckin' morning."

A breathy laugh bubbles out of your chest, but you immediately cringe at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you and onto the sheets. You wedge a hand between your bodies, reaching down to swipe your thumb between your folds and procure a glob that you suck wetly into your mouth. 

"Very good fuckin' morning," you smile cheekily at the look of awe on his face. He shakes his head, chuckling as he wraps you up in his arms and rolls you over onto your sides. His chest expands into you with a massive yawn, and you're helpless but to mirror him.

"How much time we got until the alarm?" he mutters sleepily, sounding like he could pass out at any moment. You're craning your head back to check when—

The damn thing starts blaring before you can even catch a glimpse of the time. Not that you need to now—it's 6 a.m., your mortal enemy. You glare at the clock like it personally offended you, and Joel only chuckles, pulling you back down with him.

"Snooze it," he murmurs, mouthing damply at your neck, his hands exploring your soft, bare skin. "We still got time."

You barely hear him, already lost in the feeling of his fingers skimming up your sides, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. He leans over you to hit the button himself before returning to you, kissing you like you've both got all the time in the world.

Neither of you makes it to work on time.

TUESDAY

"Cookin' in the kitchen, and I'm in the bedroom."

The oven is broken. Probably. The stove, too. It’s really not your fault—all you did was turn some knobs and stand there, but for some reason, none of the burners are catching and the oven sure isn’t cooking this chicken like it’s supposed to.

You don't even like chicken but, for some ungodly reason, you've had a wicked craving for it lately. And Joel loves it, so. That explains why you’re in the kitchen, getting side-eyed by a very skeptical 14 year old, trying to cook a nice dinner for her very overworked father. It’s not going well.

“Did you hear it click when you tried turning it on?” Sarah asks patiently, and now it’s your turn to look skeptical.

“Uhh, the knob or the stove?” You eye the appliance dubiously like it’s doing whatever it’s doing on purpose. She laughs pointing to one of the burners.

“So, when you twist the knob, gas comes out of here,” she taps the grating around the burner, “and the clicking creates a spark that ignites the gas so it lights. Then, voila, you’ve got a working stove.”

“Oh,” you reply dumbly, looking back and forth between her and the stove until she finally gets the hint.

“Fine, fine. I can do it,” she rolls her eyes good-naturedly. And of course, the stupid thing works with zero issues when she does it. You give her a grateful smile before throwing the dirtiest glare you can muster at the oven.

“What do we do about that one? I guess I could try cooking the whole chicken in a big pan, but I can’t guarantee we won’t all die from food poisoning…,” you trail off, starting to feel a little useless. 

It’s not like you’re completely inept in the kitchen. You can use a toaster or a microwave like a damn pro, and even the blender if you’re feeling especially adventurous, but you’ve never made a big meal like this before. Sarah likes to cook when you’re not ordering out, which admittedly is most of the time, so this was supposed to be something special for her, too. 

“It’s the same general concept,” she says, still kind and patient as ever, squatting down to show you a different set of knobs. You observe her for a moment, missing the start of her explanation, because it’s times like these where you can see so much of Joel in her. 

It’s that spark in her eyes when she gets to share bits of her well-earned knowledge. To use her expertise to teach someone something brand new. Joel gets the same look when he’s trying to teach you guitar. His eyes shine when you finally get a chord down, and he downright beams when you can finish an entire bar by yourself. 

You must’ve zoned out for too long because she’s suddenly waving a hand in front of your face, smiling her dad’s sweet smile as she waits for your focus to return to the task at hand. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. What did I miss?” you ask sheepishly. She nods to the oven, already lit and heating up to the required 400 degrees Fahrenheit for cooking baked chicken.

“All good! It’s set for whenever you’ve got the food prepped. You just have to wait for it to hit temperature—it’ll beep when it’s ready,” she says, walking around the kitchen island to grab her backpack. 

…Wait. She’s leaving?

“Woah, wait, where are you going? You can’t leave yet,” you plead, still desperate for her help. “What if I burn the house down?”

“You’re not gonna burn down the house,” she snorts, already at the door tugging on her sneakers. “Just remember to turn off the burners and you’ll be fine. And save me some food!… Unless everyone gets sick, then maybe don’t.”

You shoot her a look of absolute betrayal, and she laughs, opening the front door and waving over her shoulder. 

“See ya later! Good luck, I believe in you!” 

And then she’s gone, and you’re left alone with your misery and a bunch of random ingredients you still have to magically make into a meal.

You slump against the counter, lamenting the loss of your sous chef until the oven beeps, scaring the shit out of you. Oh, great. You’ve barely even started seasoning the chicken. It can’t be that hard, right?

Twenty minutes later, you’re standing in front of a very peppery-looking raw chicken—which is officially disgusting again, you changed your mind—wishing you had just ordered Boston Market and lied about making it yourself. Lesson learned for next time. Like there’ll be a next time.

Well, at least no one can say you didn’t try. You throw a bunch of mixed vegetables into the bottom of the pan like the recipe says and pop it in the oven, setting the timer for 40 minutes and hoping for the best. 

Glancing at the clock above the sink, you realize you’re cutting it close on time. You told Joel to be home by eight, which means he’ll probably actually get here at nine, and it’s already 7:30. Yikes. Time flies when you’re trying not to fuck up a dinner that was doomed from the start.

The last piece of the puzzle is thankfully the easiest. Now, mashed potatoes are definitely something you can make. Boiling water? Piece of cake. Pouring in the instant flakes from the box and adding butter? Done and done.

There’s no way anyone’ll be able to tell you didn’t make them from scratch unless they check the trash and, anyways, the instant stuff is better. You’ll go down with that ship. 

Now for the pièce de résistance: the perfect evening attire. A cute, 50s-era apron you thrifted two weeks ago that’ll go over the teeny, tiny Victoria’s Secret lingerie set you’ve been hiding in the back of the closet.

Joel will probably think it’s hilarious, once he stops drooling. Hopefully you’ll even make it to dinner, otherwise, the stress of this entire afternoon was a totally moot point. But he’ll have to be a good boy and finish his food before he can have dessert—apple pie you definitely didn’t make, and you laid out on his bed like the best fucking treat he’ll ever taste.

You end up with enough time to take the chicken and veggies out of the oven—the meat thermometer tells you it’s cooked through and that’s good enough for you—and stir up the mashed potatoes before you have to head upstairs to get everything else ready. So far, surprisingly, so good. 

You’re in the middle of patting yourself on the back for a job well-done, with time to spare, when you hear the front door open. At eight fucking thirty. This would be the one day Joel gets home early and, by the sounds of dishware and cutlery clinking around downstairs, he’s already discovered your big surprise. 

“Baby, you up there?” he calls up the stairs. “What’s all this?”

Well. Guess it’s showtime. You finish tying the apron around your waist before giving yourself one last once over in the mirror. Everything fits perfectly, just like you knew it would, and the food’s done, for better or worse. So there’s no need to be nervous, right? It’s just Joel. Your Joel. He’d love it no matter what, even if it all ends up being total shit. 

Taking a steadying breath, you head down the stairs, letting your appearance serve as his answer. The apron rubs scratchily against your skin, a reminder of how naked you actually are underneath, and you let your confidence in Joel’s inevitably wanton reaction make you brave.

And he doesn’t disappoint. His eyes rove over you greedily, from the pout of your lips to the tiniest slip of your nipple peeking over your bra, all the way down to the soft, bare skin of your legs. Yeah, no need to be nervous at all.

“Just a little surprise I cooked up,” you smirk a little deviously as you reach the bottom of the stairs. He’s on you in a second, hands exploring your body eagerly, impatiently, as he leans in to kiss you, but he’s halted by a finger to his lips. “Uh-uh. Can’t have dessert yet. There’s a whole meal waiting for you—I made your favorite.”

He chuckles, gingerly pressing a kiss to your finger instead before leading you backward into the kitchen. 

“Well, let’s get started then. I’m starvin’,” he says, looking hungrier than you’ve ever seen him. You return his gaze, suddenly feeling ravenous yourself.

“Good. It’s dinner time.”

WEDNESDAY

"Wrist icicle, ride dick bicycle."

Spin class sucks.

There’s really no need for the music to be this loud. And it’s bad. They say it’s supposed to amp you up for rigorous exercise, but it’s just giving you a headache.

It’s also about a thousand degrees in here, and you’d be leaving a massive pool of sweat on this seat if you were even allowed to sit on it. The whole concept of spinning makes no sense, and you’re starting to think it’s actually just a dance class on stationary bikes because no one in their right mind would ever ride a bicycle like this. 

It’s embarrassing, for starters, and you’re surrounded by hot people that are way better at it than you are. You didn’t even know you could gyrate on a fucking bike until today, and they all somehow make it look sexy. Like they’re legitimately having a great time. Having fun. 

But not you. The music might honestly be doing you a favor by drowning out your pathetic attempts to breathe. You’re starting to get a little lightheaded and feel like you’re about to be sick.

No workout is worth this. You can’t even pretend to follow the instructor’s directions, because you can barely hear her over the speakers. She probably can't even hear herself, yelling into the void of shitty EDM remixes, and expecting everyone to pick it up. If you’d known this was just some fucked up version of leg day, you would’ve skipped it. 

There's no sneaking out early, either. You took the bus and Joel won’t be here to pick you up for at least another half hour. Honestly, you'd rather walk home and let that be your exercise for the day, but unless you plan on jogging along the highway, you're shit out of luck.

The beat abruptly picks back up, startling you out of your personal pity party, and then everyone's asses are in the air again, hips swiveling so perfectly in sync that it has to be choreographed. You're getting the hang of it now that you're realizing the routine just repeats itself, but it still feels mildly exploitative. 

It doesn't help that your class is starting to draw in a crowd, likely attracted by all of the revealing athletic wear on display. At least you got that memo. Whoever had the bright idea to put a huge glass wall at the back of the room was either a genius or a pervert. Probably both, depending on who you ask.

Once the hardest section of the choreography passes, you look behind you to check the time, praying more than you think has passed, but you're sorely disappointed. And the crowd outside's only gotten bigger.

Don't these assholes have anything better to do than stand there drooling over a spin class? You continue to glare at them over your shoulder through the next part of the song, looking a little ridiculous grinding into your seat as you silently tell them all off.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch one of them off to the side laughing, but when you turn to send an even harsher look in their direction, you realize you recognize him. 

What a dick. If you'd known he was going to be this early, you definitely would've snuck out and waited outside instead of becoming another piece of eye candy for a bunch of gym rats. 

Joel looks a little too pleased with himself, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed like he’s enjoying the view as much as the rest of those creeps. Well, if he wants a show, then you’ll give him one. Now that you’ve gotten the movements down, you can put all of your energy into making him wish there wasn’t an entire glass wall separating him from you. 

That one, grueling section of the song loops back around, and this time you put your all into it, arching like you’re supposed to, swiveling your hips into the seat with all of the muscle control you’ve got. Your shorts ride up your ass at the change in movement, probably giving you a wicked camel toe, but you let them. You can only imagine the look on Joel’s face now.

The song starts to wind down, finally coming to a stop, and you lower yourself back onto the seat, panting with the exertion of the past 45 minutes. Turning back around, you notice the crowd has mostly dispersed, save for a few stragglers and Joel, who’s panting almost as hard as you are. 

Your eyes drop to his pants, and you quirk an eyebrow. His breathing’s not the only thing that’s hard. He looks a little wrecked and, suddenly, this whole workout thing feels like it might’ve been worth it after all. 

You hop off the bike and retrieve your duffel from the back of the room, teasingly flicking the glass in front of his face before exiting with the rest of the class.

"Ready to go?" you ask brightly, still feeling high off the endorphin rush. He doesn't respond, looking a little dazed as he watches a droplet of sweat run down your neck, past your collarbone, and right between your breasts. "You doing alright there, bud?"

You laugh, enjoying your revenge a little too much, reveling in the way his jaw tenses and the muscles in his neck twitch angrily. It’s about to be a very interesting ride home—or it would’ve been if you’d made it that far. 

On the way out, you pass an out-of-order men’s room, and he yanks you inside, locking the door behind you.

It's a little surprising he's this pent up after the night you had, especially with the sheer amount of sex you’ve been having lately—not that you're complaining. But what's even more surprising is that he's choosing right now to rectify it, basically in public where anyone could overhear or walk in on you. It's...really out of character for him. You thought he'd at least make it to the car.

“Joel, what the—,” you yelp as he lifts you up by the waist to settle you on the edge of a sink. It's clear his patience has completely run out because, within seconds, he's dropping to his knees, burying his face in your heat. "—fuck."

Your legs immediately try to close around his head, but he forces them back open with enough strength to overextend your already abused hamstrings. It shouldn't feel as good as it does, but the pain, combined with his blunt nails biting into your thighs, sends delicious jolts right to your core. 

You exhale shakily, burying your fingers in his hair as he sucks a damp patch into your shorts, just slightly lower than where you need him. Your hips buck, urging him higher, but he doesn't allow that either, shoving them back down onto the hard porcelain beneath you.

Should've known it wouldn't be that easy. He's handling you aggressively, rougher than you would've expected, and that's when you realize he's mad.

"Bet ya thought that was real funny, teasin' me like that," he growls into your clothed pussy, licking up the seam to swirl wet circles where your clit throbs under too many layers. "Don't feel very nice, does it?"

His eyes meet yours as he sucks a little harder, and you whimper, tugging at his hair in a silent plea for him to take your shorts off and eat you out the way you both want him to. But he's going to drag this out and you know it. 

Joel loves a little payback and has the patience of a saint unless he's pushed past his limit. To your detriment, you shoved him over that line with the stunt you pulled earlier, so now you'll have to convince him it's in his best interest to let it go.

Switching tactics, you tempt him with what he could have if he just gave in. Your fingers dip beneath your waistband, and you sigh as you slick them up against your folds before dipping them inside. You're already soaked, and so tight, even around two of your own fingers, and you tell him as much.

"No, it doesn't feel nice...but I know something that will," you pump your fingers in and out of yourself, the muted sound of wet squelching reaching your ears. "Hear that?—," you gasp, hips lifting off the sink as you accidentally graze something spongey and sensitive, "—t-that's all for you."

And it works like a charm. Your shorts and underwear are pulled off in a single, hard tug, his tongue fucking into you before you can even fully inhale, and you choke out a strangled moan instead. He eats you out like a man starved, his nose nudging your clit with every dip of his tongue, and it feels so potent, you practically see stars. 

Your combined slick and his saliva are starting to leak over the edge of the sink but he catches every drop, and the way he slurps you up makes your cheeks burn. Joel's a lot of things when he's between your legs—enthusiastic, generous, and a little sloppy, but he's never wasteful. 

Two thick fingers prod at your entrance, and then he's pressing them into you, the slide snug, but easy with how wet you are for him. Finally, finally, you can feel your orgasm building, and you're sent reeling when his tongue fucks into you between his fingers, filling you up—it's...yes, right there—

But he abruptly pulls his mouth away, still not done making you pay.

"Damn right, it's all for me. Ya think those jackasses watching you weren't thinkin' about this?" he growls, his fingers slowing to leisurely stroke your walls as if they weren't about to throw you over the edge a moment ago. "Think they could make you feel this good? Make you cum like I do?"

Your pussy flutters pathetically around him, and the false look of sympathy he gives you makes you want to cry out of sheer frustration.

"Gonna need an answer if you want me to keep goin'," he drawls, still close enough that you can feel his breath, hot against your cunt.

You bite down on your bottom lip, just hard enough to momentarily distract yourself from the aching between your legs so you can respond, but you're taking too long. His fingers have all but stopped, so you panic.

"Fuck those assholes. Fuck all of them," you grit through your teeth. He quirks an eyebrow, marginally picking up the pace of his fingers.

"Fuck 'em, huh? That what you wanna do?" He's teasing you, and even though it's obvious, you fall right into his trap, anyway. Blanching, you shake your head furiously.

"N-no—no, no, no. Just you, only wanna fuck you," you gasp, frantically trying to convince him of something you both already know to be true without a shadow of a doubt. It's honestly impressive that he can work you like this and, even more so, that he's the only one that can.

"S'okay, I know...I know. This right here—," he gives your clit a few kitten licks, the pads of his fingertips rubbing that perfect spot inside you, "—s'mine." 

Then, he's burying his face back between your legs, redoubling his efforts, and it's so fucking sloppy. Wet and hot, and hungry, as if edging you has the same effect on him. 

You feel him groan into you as you start to tighten around his fingers, loud enough that his chest rumbles with it, sending sweet vibrations up your thighs. The sound of his belt jingling, then hitting the floor vaguely makes it past the blood rushing in your ears, but his broad shoulders and head bobbing between your legs are blocking your view.

All you can see or hear is the frantic movement of his arm, his hand working up and down his cock, and the sound of skin slapping on skin. Fuck, that's—so hot, you're so close. So fucking close—

But he's got one last edge left in him. 

You're throbbing so violently that for a second you're terrified he ruined your orgasm, but no, you're still teetering on the cusp, thighs quaking so hard, you can’t believe you haven’t crushed his head between them already. At this point, the smallest touch, even the tiniest puff of air would send you hurtling over.

He's still jerking himself off, sounding delirious as he separates his mouth from you to speak.

"Need to hear ya s-say it...," he pants, and you cry out, angrily reaching down to roughly shove his face back into you, but he resists. Spurred on by your reaction, he only fucks into his fist faster. “Nobody else gets to taste ya like I do…do they? Say it. Say it and I'll…ngh—let you cum,” he moans lowly, possessively. 

Joel sounds completely gone. You never could've imagined dry humping a fucking stationary bike would set him off like this, or that a bunch of dumb muscleheads would make him this jealous. He's so lost in it, in you. 

But the way he's looking up at you right now—it's like he really does need you to do this for him. To tell him that it’s just him, and it’ll only ever be him. It’s the truth. No one else has ever made you feel the way he does, with his mouth and hands, or his heart, and they never will again.

You whine, shaking your head pleadingly, ready to tell him whatever he wants to hear. Anything for him to put his mouth back on you again.

"T-they don't—no one else gets to, but you...only you," you keen as he seals his lips around your clit, all of his fears and insecurities finally soothed. Your head tips back, the feeling of his hot tongue laving over the sensitive bundle of nerves and his thick fingers—three of them, now—dragging against your walls exactly what you need. 

You cum frighteningly quickly, your orgasm so powerful and overwhelming that you start to black out. Your eyes squeeze shut, and then it’s all just pleasure—the tension in all of your limbs slowly bleeds out with every spasm of your cunt, and something wet…so wet, splashes against your inner thighs. 

Joel groans louder than you think you’ve ever heard him, the sound practically punched out of his chest as he licks broader lines up your pussy, sucking and slurping, and what…what is that? Why the fuck are you so wet? He—did Joel cum on you, and you didn’t even notice?

But that’s impossible because now his body’s completely seizing up, the hand around his cock stilling as he spurts thick ropes of cum across the bathroom floor. Or at least that’s the image your brain conjures up, unable to see it for yourself. 

Your vision’s only just beginning to return to you, and you immediately look down to see what actually happened...and fuck. It was you. Joel’s head is resting on your thigh, nuzzling into your soft, very damp skin, and he's looking up at you in awe.

“Shit, baby…,” he pants, chest heaving, cock still twitching in his hand. "Ain't ever seen you do that before."

You blink blearily, lips parting as you take him in. He's a goddamn mess. His face and beard are soaked, and his shirt is splattered with what you can only assume is your release. You fucking squirted? In a dirty gym bathroom?

"What the fuck?" you mumble, still dazed and a little in disbelief at how your first, and probably last, trip to the gym went. You shake your head, clearing up the brain fog enough to quickly process the past two hours, and now you're in shock. "Joel, what the fuck?" you ask again incredulously.

He has the nerve to look sheepish where he's still happily nestled between your legs post-orgasm, and you bop the top of his head with your palm, eyeing him expectantly.

"Wanna explain what all of that was?"

"Look—," he starts, lips quirking down into that little frown you know so well. "If you'd've heard the shit those fuckers were sayin' about ya. Probably would've said worse if I hadn't told 'em to fuck off before they got into some real trouble."

"Wait, you were the reason they all took off? Joel," you laugh because suddenly it all makes sense. 

You just learned the hard way that a grumpy, jealous Joel means getting edged until you black out. Pretty good knowledge to have for future reference, to be honest. Now that you're not sobbing with his head between your legs, it all seems so silly.

"What, did ya expect me to just stand there and let 'em talk about fuckin' my girl right in front of me?"

"I mean, no, but...I dunno, maybe just take the compliment next time and don't threaten a group of scary, muscular men," you chuckle fondly, cupping his wet cheeks in your hands. "Okay? It basically just means you have a hot girlfriend. Congratulations!" 

But he only grumbles in response, still pouting like a child. You bend down to press a soft kiss to his forehead, and he sighs, some of the tension bleeding out of his shoulders.

"What if, when we get home, I show you some of the techniques I learned in my class?" you murmur into his hair. He tilts his head back, eyeing you skeptically.

"Baby, we don't have a stationary bike," he says, brows furrowed in confusion. You suck your bottom lip into your mouth, eyes dropping to his lap.

"That's okay. We won't need one."

THURSDAY

"You can't imagine what I'm 'bout to say. You really wanna know? You'll have to wait. (It's a surprise, surprise.)"

Blue, blue, blue. Just do it, just be blue! It's a great color—the best color, maybe even your favorite color.

You keep chanting at it, loudly and in your head, but the plastic stick doesn't seem to appreciate your encouragement. It just stares back at you, blank and unhelpful.

How much longer do the instructions say you have to wait? One to three minutes, that's it? It feels like it's already been two hours, but it's actually only been...30 seconds. What the fuck.

Maybe if you shake it, it'll develop faster. It's basically like a polaroid, right? And Outkast has never steered you wrong, so. You lean over from where you're still sitting on the toilet, pants around your ankles, to test your theory but it's too late.

It already has an answer for you. ...Wait, what? Both of the lines are blue. So...does that mean you're extra not pregnant? You snatch up the pamphlet again, actually reading through the directions this time, and your stomach drops. Pink was never even an option. 

Two blue lines. Pregnant.

You knew this week was going a little too well. 

Those random bouts of nausea, the weird cravings, the fucking breast tenderness. They didn't need to mean anything. They shouldn't have meant anything.

Fuck. Fuck. What are you supposed to do now? You're way too young to have a baby. Well. Okay, that's a massive lie, but still, you're definitely not ready to have one. Or to be…pregnant. You shudder at the thought. 

Swollen ankles, morning sickness, mood swings. You’re already a walking rollercoaster of emotions, and your back hurts from just existing. No, you can’t do this. 

It's not about the finances, either. You and Joel both have steady jobs and could make it work if you wanted to, but do you want to? Will he? He’s not your husband, not even your fiancée, so there’s no reason for him to stick around. It’s not his burden.

There's just too many unanswered questions. And Joel's already someone's dad. He did the whole baby thing by himself and got it right the first around.

Sarah's perfect—fuck, what is Sarah going to think? Stupid, this was so stupid. You thought you were being so careful. Sure, Joel cums inside you basically every time you have sex, but that's totally beside the point. 

You take those dumb little pills at the same time every day, just like you're supposed to. Except…when’s the last time you had a period? Did you even get it last month? The month before? 

Shit, that wedding—when was that wedding? Your coworker’s, the rich one who decided to have a fucking destination wedding in Hawaii a couple months ago. It was decadent. You and Joel were super drunk the entire time and fucked like rabbits for three days straight. 

Fuck.

Don't cry. Do not cry. Joel will probably be back from picking Sarah up from soccer practice any minute, so you need to hold it together. Maybe you just won’t tell them, at least not until you’ve had more time to process everything and decide what you’re going to do.

But, god, you wear your emotions on your sleeve, and even more so on your face. They’ll know something’s off the second they look at you, and you won’t be able to talk yourself out of it. You’ve always been a shit liar. 

Tears start to fall without your permission. You slump slowly to the floor, pants still around your ankles, and curl up into a ball, willing it all to go away—the tiny clump of cells growing inside your belly and the regret of being so careless, of letting yourself get caught up in a serious relationship in the first place. This isn’t something you can just wish away. It’s life-changing and nothing will ever be the same again. Was it really worth it?

No, no. Of course, it was. Snap out of it.

If only it were that easy. Sobs wrack your entire body, and you can barely hear yourself choking on them, unable to hold them in anymore. Your eyes squeeze shut as you desperately try to block out your reality, but it seeps up your nose and into your mouth, salty and unignorable. 

Blood rushes in your ears and you realize belatedly that you’re starting to hyperventilate, but you can’t stop. You’re drawing in too much air all at once and it’s making your vision go fuzzy. It’s all just too much. Anger, sadness, and fear consume you until you’re screaming with it, desperate to expel it from your body any way you can.

So, you don’t hear the front door opening or Joel and Sarah running up the stairs, completely panic-stricken. 

Joel reaches the ensuite bathroom first and all but breaks down the door, but he’s met with the sight of your half-naked body in a heap on the floor. Immediately, he turns to block Sarah from getting in.

“Hey, hey—no,” he says firmly, wrapping her up in his arms to keep her from seeing past him. “You’re not goin’ in there. Ya gotta give us some time, alright?”

She looks up at him, scared and visibly shaken. 

“What if—do you think she’s okay in there? Was she hurt…d-did you see her?” she asks softly, eyes wet. “Can I see her?”

“Not right now, kiddo,” he mumbles, kicking the bathroom door shut behind him before leading her out of his room and into the hallway. “‘m sorry.”

The crestfallen look on Sarah’s face is the last thing he sees before he closes the door on her. But he has to ignore how badly it feels to keep her away from you, at least until he can figure out what the hell is wrong and how he’s going to fix it.

Your cries have quieted since earlier, but not nearly enough to ease Joel's fears. He can still hear you through the door, hiccuping softly, and opens it gently this time, entering slowly as if he's trying not to spook a scared animal.

It doesn't work as well as he'd hoped. Your head shoots up, a small gasp escaping your lips as you dizzily pull your pants back up.  

"Easy there, s'okay. Baby, s'just me, don't worry," he murmurs, dropping to his knees on the floor next to you, but you flinch away. You can only imagine the hurt in his eyes, and the mental image tugs at your heart. "I need ya to tell me what happened. Did ya hurt yourself?"

Yeah, you could say that.

You shake your head, the only thing you're capable of doing in the state you're in. Trying to speak would be useless after all the screaming you just did and you can't bear to look him in the eye.

"Hey, talk to me. If somethin's the matter, I need to know, 'specially if we gotta get you to the hospital," he says, reaching out to touch you. 

His hand grazes your shoulder, and your body jerks so viscerally that you slam your knees into the bottom of the sink. You let out a tiny whimper of pain right as you hear something small and plastic hit the ground next to you. 

Oh, no. Shit. You desperately try to kick the test out of reach, to cover it with your body—anything to keep him from seeing it—but his fingers wrap around it before you get the chance. He sucks in a harsh breath through his teeth and you feel your whole world shattering. 

That's it, then. Even just a glance at those two blue lines will have immediately told Joel all he needs to know. Now he'll leave and he'd have every right. This is all your fault.

Your cheeks are wet again, but this time you can't bring yourself to care. Turning away from him, you curl back into a ball, ignoring the angry throbbing in your knees as you wait for him to yell or throw the test, or finally get up and walk out.

But he doesn't. Instead, you hear him delicately set the test back on the sink and then he lays down behind you on the floor, wrapping his arms around you and pulling your back into his chest.

His heartbeat is fast. It's racing against you and, yet, somehow his breathing is still so calm. The calm before the storm, you're sure of it. You tense, anticipation sitting heavily on your chest and lungs, and he can feel it.

His lips press into the back of your neck and even though the action is so tender and so Joel, you still can’t convince yourself that maybe you’ve misjudged this entire situation. Or that you’ve misjudged him.

“Sweetheart,” he sighs, resting his forehead between your shoulder blades. It hasn’t escaped your notice that he isn’t calling you baby anymore. You can’t tell if that’s for your benefit or his. "Tell me what you're thinkin'."

Time feels like it's moving in slow motion. You really don't mean to ignore him…it’s just that you’re not thinking anything. Lying there in his arms, your mind goes blank, giving in to the white noise of his heartbeat syncopating your own fragile rhythm. 

But somehow he seems to understand you completely, filling the silence himself. His voice lulls you into a false sense of security, or…no. No, that’s not right. It’s real. His security, his safety, is real and reliable, proven and palpable.

“Listen to me—I need ya to hear this, alright? I want whatever you want and if ya don’t want this, we’re not doin’ it,” he says firmly, like he means it with every fiber of his being. You do hear him. But your heart and mind are still rebelling, begging you to see their own senseless logic. Joel won’t stop until he convinces them, too.

“But if ya do…if—,” his voice trails off, cracking almost imperceptibly. At least, to anyone else but you. “—if ya wanna do this with me, then ‘m with ya. Every step of the way, ‘m with ya.”

Then, for the first time since those blue lines appeared in your life, you feel peace. And it's all him. He’s given you a choice—one you knew you always had, but never thought to factor him into. You didn’t think you deserved to involve him. But he does. He deserves that choice, too.

The floodgates open and soon you’re sobbing uncontrollably again, but this time it feels cathartic. Like he’s freed you from a prison of your own making. You find your voice, wet and shaky.

“Joel, I’m scared,” you weep, turning in his arms to finally meet his eyes. And there they are. Brown and beautiful and clear, unclouded by fear and regret, and you let them make you brave. For him and your tiny clump of cells. 

“What if I can’t do this? What—I…,” you hiccup through the disjointed thought, “—if I give up…if it’s just too hard...”

“S’why there’s two of us,” he bends down to murmur soothingly into your cheek, lips brushing against the corner of your own. “But ya can’t push me away anymore. If we do this, then we do it together,” and that lances straight through your heart, obliterating all doubt and setting your decision in stone. 

Together. You’re in this together.

“Okay,” you croak, sniffling as he wipes away your tears. You repeat it, clearer this time. “Okay.”

FRIDAY

"You might think I'm crazy, the way I've been cravin'. If I put it quite plainly, just gimme them babies."

Doctors' offices have no business being as scary as they are. Bare and sterile, and not an ounce of color to be found anywhere but those creepy posters of in-depth diagrams of the human body. Gross.

You fight the urge to turn around and head straight back to the truck but, as if he can sense your plan to make a run for it, Joel places both hands on your shoulders and leads you toward the reception desk. 

“C’mon, we got this,” he says quietly in your ear, likely reassuring both of you. “We go in, they tell us you ’n the baby are healthy, then we get out.” 

You grimace. The baby. That’s still so weird. There’s literally a tiny being growing inside you, eating your food, and sitting on your fucking bladder. It’s like that thing in Alien that bursts out of people’s chests.

Great. Well, that’s officially off the list for movie night later, which Joel promised you'd have if you got your check-up without trying to escape. Technically, you’re doing great so far. And it’s an extremely tempting offer. 

Movie nights at the Miller house usually include a trip to 7/11 for popcorn, soda, and a box of your favorite candy. Those annoying cravings you’re just now realizing are because you’re pregnant would be extremely satiated by that. 

You’ll also get to curl up on the couch with Joel all night in a childless house because Sarah's staying at a friend’s. Win-win. But first, you have to make it through this check-up. 

Everything up until you’re inside the actual examination room isn’t actually so bad. The receptionist is nice enough, even though you can tell she deals with a lot of first-time moms by the way she treats you with baby gloves, and the wait time is less than 10 minutes. 

Yeah, you’ve totally got this. Or at least you did until the doctor shows up with an ultrasound machine and lifts your shirt to squeeze that freezing cold goop all over your stomach. You look up at Joel, scared and a little bewildered, and he takes your hand in his, rubbing soothing circles into your skin. The screen lights up with what you assume is a real-time view of the inside of your belly and, after that, it’s all sort of a blur. 

Six weeks. They tell you that you’re already six weeks pregnant, so you definitely conceived at that dumb wedding. At least you’ve got a story to tell. You’re also entering that fun stage where your nausea’s mostly cleared up, but now you’ll either be super tired or super horny at any given time. 

You try not to laugh when you feel Joel’s hand subtly twitch in yours. Of course, he perks up at that. Honestly, you’d be a liar if you said you weren’t going to enjoy it, too. Immensely.

Then, comes the big one. The entire point of this doctor’s visit, and the reason you and Joel are gripping each other so tight, you’re cutting off the other’s circulation. But it’s good news. Luckily, it's all good news.

Your tiny clump of cells is healthy, you’re healthy, and you can go home now, equipped with all of that very calming knowledge. One day, you’re going to have to stop calling them a clump, but you’ve decided today is not that day.

“Told ya it wouldn’t be so bad,” he teases as you walk out to the truck, still hand-in-hand. 

But his eyes betray his tone. There’s a seriousness to his joy, and you can see it so clearly in the way he’s looking at you like you’ve given him the greatest gift in the world. It makes you feel warm and…important. Loved. He continues, his voice tinged with something a little softer. 

“Thank you…for goin’, I mean. S’good to know that everythin’s alright. That you’re alright.”

You stop next to the car, meeting his gaze with what you hope is the same amount of love and affection you see, and throw your arms around his neck. 

“Thanks for taking me, and just…being here. Like, really being here, not just showing up so you can say you did,” you say earnestly, and he leans down to kiss you, his arms wrapping around you to pull you close.

“‘Course, baby. Don't have to thank me for that,” he mumbles against your lips. 

Not ready to separate from him, you deepen the kiss, running your tongue along his bottom lip until he opens for you and licking into his mouth freely. He groans as you press him into the side of the truck, his hands trailing down your sides to grip the plush of your ass through your jeans. 

You can feel him starting to stiffen against your belly and that carnal hunger the doctor warned you about takes over, the need to feel more, more of him overwhelming you. He’s just so solid everywhere. 

Your fingers skim underneath his shirt to feel his stomach flexing beneath your palms, and you roll your hips into his, gasping into his mouth at the friction. You’re so caught up in his hands on your body, his tongue in your mouth, that you don’t hear the group of people passing by on the other side of the truck.

But Joel does. He begrudgingly pulls away from you, hard as a rock and panting heavily. You whine at the loss, and he twitches against you in response.

“C’mon, baby, I’m not fuckin’ you in a goddamn Planned Parenthood parkin’ lot,” he chuckles, leading you to the passenger’s side of the car. He smacks your ass when you resist, and you shoot him a wounded glare. “Uh-uh, none’a that. ‘m takin’ you home. Owe ya a movie, don’t I?”

You perk up at the mention of his promise from earlier.

“You sure do. And candy, and popcorn, and soda,” you list off, easily distracted by the prospect of shitty junk food. You bounce into the car, shifting the seat to recline as far as it’ll go. “What are we watching?”

“Whatever you want, baby."

Well, he did say he’d give you whatever you wanted. And for a while, it was the movie—you’d even picked out your favorite. But you only manage to get about 20 minutes in before Joel's arm around your shoulder and chest under your cheek become an unignorable distraction. 

Now, you want something else. 

You don't bother teasing or playing coy, not when he’s so solidly pressed against you, just begging to be had. Your body rises and falls with every breath he takes, and it’s so visceral, being close enough to touch and taste him, and yet not doing either. 

His neck looks especially delicious under the faint, fluorescent lighting of the TV, and your lips press wetly into the underside of his jaw, sucking delicately as your tongue darts out to taste him. His breath hitches, but he shows no other signs of being affected at all. 

Taking that as your cue to up the ante, you drop your hand onto his lap to tug at his belt, but he catches you before you can make any progress. You tilt your head back to look up at him, brows furrowed in confusion, but he just smirks, eyes still locked on the TV screen.

"You wanted a movie, didn't ya? Thought ya loved this one," he says teasingly. "You can wait a couple hours—I know ya can."

Yeah, you can, but that doesn't mean you want to. He was so into it in the parking lot, so what happened between then and now? You didn't think he liked this movie that much, but apparently you were mistaken. 

Settling back into his side, you try to shift your focus back to the movie, but then the hand on your shoulder starts to play with your hair. His fingers graze your neck, and you're back to squeezing your thighs together in frustration. 

He has to be doing this on purpose. Riling you up so much that once the movie’s finally over, you’ll be putty in his hands. Well, two can play that game. If he won't let you touch him, then you'll just have to touch yourself.

Your eyes flutter closed as you run your fingers down your belly, slipping your hand beneath the waistband of your shorts to drag your fingers up and down your slick folds. God, you didn't realize you were already so wet. You gasp softly as you trail upward toward your clit, but Joel's voice startles you out of your reverie. 

"Should ya be doin' that right now?" 

There's a tinge of warning to his voice, and it burns hot in your veins. You open your eyes slowly and he's finally looking at you, his attention drawn to your fingers still moving under the fabric.

"Well, you weren't gonna. What, are you—," your middle finger brushes against that sensitive bundle of nerves and you bite back a whine, "—you...ngh—gonna stop me?"

The hand that was gently stroking your hair shifts back to firmly grip the back of your neck, squeezing just hard enough to make your fingers stutter. He leans in, his voice dangerously low in your ear.

"No, I'll let ya keep goin'. But you're gonna do exactly what I tell ya to, ya got that?" he murmurs, watching as your hips begin to swivel into your own sweet friction. "'n if you're good for me...," he trails off, eyes dropping down to where he's slowly jerking off his hardening cock through his jeans. "...I'll give ya this. We got a deal?"

You want him inside you so badly, you almost say yes before he's even done talking, but then you have a wicked thought. A counteroffer, of sorts.

"I'll take your deal. But—," you start with a devilish smile, and he raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. "Only if you touch yourself, too. Want you to fuck your hand like you're fucking me."

"Deal," he says without hesitation.

"Deal," you smirk, removing your hand from your pussy for him to shake, your fingers sticky and glistening. 

He takes your proffered hand but, instead of shaking, he wraps his lips around your slick digits, sucking you off each one and groaning at your taste. What you wouldn't give to have that tongue in your mouth. Or buried in your cunt. Pulling off with a lewd pop, he nods at your lap.

"Take your fuckin' pants off. Now."

Shit, he doesn't have to tell you twice. You quickly shimmy out of your shorts and underwear, and wait for his next instructions. You'll be a good girl for him. The best girl he's ever had and ever will.

"Spread 'em. Show me how wet you are for me," he mumbles, kicking your legs apart. 

You spread them as wide as you can. The cool night breeze filtering in through the open window meets your center, and you're suddenly aware of how much wetter you've gotten since you started. It almost makes your mouth water. You don't think you've ever been this turned on by your own body in your life.

Slick coats your thighs, seeping into the couch, and he looks pleased. You can see he wants to touch you just as badly as you want to touch yourself. Your knee bumps into his thigh and he hooks your leg over his, holding you open. 

"Shit, would'ja look at that," he breathes out in awe. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen."

Your cunt visibly clenches at the praise and he hisses in a breath through his teeth, resting his hand on your thigh so he can lean over your body. He lingers for a moment like he's admiring you laid out for him like this, but then moves a little closer and spits a thick glob of saliva right onto your clit. 

Your jaw drops, a loud gasp torn from your chest when he grabs your hand, using your fingers to gather it up and swirl it around your swollen nub. Shit, if he keeps going like this, you're going to cum and fast. 

Dropping your head back onto his shoulder, you rock into your fingers, slipping through the mess he's made of your pussy, and your body starts to feel like a rubber band about to snap. 

"Wanna taste you so fuckin' bad. Fuck you on my tongue 'til you're nice 'n ready for me," he growls, pressing your fingers harder onto your clit. "S'that what you want? Wanna cum in my mouth?"

You turn to bury your head into the crook of his neck, nodding frantically as you cry into the soothing warmth of his skin. You're going to cum. Fuck, fuck, you're going to cum. Your eyes start to roll back as you feel it crescendo, and then—

Then, he releases your hand, cruelly and unapologetically. 

"Not yet, baby. We both gotta be patient, don't we?" he teases you again, and your eyes snap open.

What the fuck. No, you're not letting him edge you again. It was fun and all at the gym, but you're way too far gone to be playing games right now. 

And how isn't he a total wreck? Both of his hands are on you, even though that wasn't part of the deal, so he can't be taking care of himself.

Your eyes drop down to his lap, and wow. This man has more willpower than you ever could've imagined. He's so hard, you can see the tip of his cock peeking out above the waistband of his pants. And it's leaking everywhere, twitching and angrily dribbling precum all over the fabric. 

He looks...so fucking good like this. Fuck, you want him so bad. But that means getting back on track, and it's obviously on you to make that happen. Clearly, he's more affected by all of this than he made it seem.

"Joel, please, just tell me what to do," you plead. You'll beg if you have to. Whatever it takes for you to finally get what you want.

"Alright, alright," he concedes, taking sympathy on you, likely reaching his limit himself. "'m gonna let you make yourself feel good, baby. Don't'chu worry."

"Great," you grit through your teeth. "Then start by taking your fucking pants off."

He chuckles at his words thrown back at him, but listens, regardless. His boxers and jeans are pulled off in two hard tugs, and his cock bounces against his stomach, thick and wet, and unfairly far from your aching pussy. The hand on your neck moves to gently caress the side of your cheek.

"Gonna start nice 'n slow, ya got that?" he says, biting back a groan as he wraps his fingers around his neglected cock. He starts to pump himself, and more precum leaks out. "Watch me."

But it didn't need to be said. You're already enraptured by the way he strokes himself, slow and steady, swiping his thumb over the head on every upstroke. He's panting softly, trying to keep his hips from jerking up into his fist, but you can see how much effort it's taking not to.

"C'mon, baby. Gimme one finger—your middle finger, all the way in," he commands, his voice as tight as his grip.

You tear your eyes away from him while you run your fingers through your folds, still slick with his saliva and your own desire, and then sink your finger into yourself knuckle by knuckle. It doesn't feel like much, and you both know it, but at least it's something. 

"Now, follow me," he says, watching your hand as intently as you're watching his. 

You rock your finger in and out slowly, just like he said. Because you're his good girl and good girls do what they're told. It’s already a sticky mess, your finger creamier with every thrust, and he groans out his appreciation. 

"Good girl. Add another one. Not too fast, now." 

Finally, you get some real relief. Slipping your index finger in alongside your middle finger, you feel that little bit of stretch you've been aching for and you can't help but whimper.

His lips part, brows furrowing as his hand speeds up. His eyes are locked on where your sopping cunt is sucking in your fingers greedily and, fuck, he's even more of a mess now. Sweat dripping from his temples, chest heaving with the effort of holding himself back. 

So hot. So fucking hot. It's scorching, the way your cunt feels around your fingers as you fuck into yourself a little faster. They're rubbing your walls just right, your palm grazing your clit after every stroke, and his hyper-focused gaze makes it all feel that much better. You want to hear him say it again. For him to tell you how well you’re doing.

"—ngh...i-is this good?" you whine, knowing how pathetic you sound, but forgetting to care.

"Perfect, baby. You're perfect," he rasps, unable to keep his hips from snapping up into his fist as the sweet sounds of your wet squelching reach his ears. "So fuckin' good for me."

Preening hard at his praise, you push a little too deep into yourself and graze something mind-numbing that almost hurts with how good it feels. You cry out, curling your fingers into it again and again as you bury your face back into his neck. His arm tightens around your shoulder and he leans over to press his lips soothingly against your forehead. 

"That's it, baby, just like that. Doin' so well," he groans, lips brushing against your skin. His strokes are frantic now and you know he can’t last much longer. "Need ya to gimme one more. Just one—last one, promise. Then I'll give ya whatever you want."

Nodding quickly, face still cushioned against his shoulder, you add your ring finger, and fucking hell, you’re so full. You stretch your fingers apart, pumping them in and out the best you can, and they drag against that spot—every spot—with how tight you are. But somehow it’s not enough. It’s not Joel’s cock, so it’ll never be enough. 

Everything’s drowned out except for the wet sounds of skin on skin, and Joel’s voice, still just above your brow, talking you through your almost painful pleasure. He’s panting, whispering tender words that you can’t hear so much as feel with those soft, perfect lips.

“…tell me when you’re close, baby. Can’t feel ya, gonna need you to use your words,” he barely chokes out, staving off his orgasm, waiting for you. 

It’s already close, but you’re only teetering, stuck in a constant loop of almost there, and need more. You can’t reach where you need to, but Joel can. So easily and all you have to do is ask. He said he’d give you whatever you wanted.

But you didn’t realize he was already at his limit, and you don’t get the chance to tell him before he’s babbling, delirious with the need to cum.

"'m sorry—fuck, 'm sorry. Need...to—ngh, fuck, need to cum inside you...fill you up...," he moans, and he sounds upset like he can’t help himself, not anymore.

Abruptly, so much quicker than you can fully process, your fingers are yanked out of your cunt and replaced by his cock, and the thrust is so harsh, he hits exactly where you need him to without even trying. The whine building in your chest erupts as a wail as you immediately lock down around him, sending him over the edge with you.

Full. God, how can you feel this full? You’re so unbelievably aware of him cumming inside you and there’s so much, he’s already leaking out of you. And he almost seems angry about it. Your hips are roughly tilted up so he’s fucking down into you, eyes unfocused, and snarling like a wild animal.

And still so mouthy.

“You got no idea how good ya look right now. Fuckin’ glowin’,” he all but slurs, drunk on the idea of keeping his seed inside you. “S’that my baby in you, makin’ ya glow like that?”

"Oh...oh, god, fuck, Joel,” you whimper, your aftershocks still milking him dry. “Christ, y-you trying to knock me up twice?" 

It’s like that alone makes him redouble his efforts. You’ve never seen him like this before, but you like it. Something primal in you wants this as badly as he does.

"Fuck yeah, baby, gonna pump you full'a twins."

Holy shit. You’re not sure if you’re still cumming or if you just came again, but you feel an entirely new rush of pleasure and he hisses out a breath through his teeth like he can feel it. Not long after, sensitivity starts to set in for both of you and he stills, seated deeply inside you, chest heaving and eyes shut tight. 

His hands squeeze where they’ve been aggressively gripping your thighs before he reluctantly pulls out, but he keeps your hips tilted up as he drops to sit between your legs on the cushion below.

“There a reason I can’t lay down like a normal person?” you laugh, wiggling in his grasp. “Joel, come on, put me down. I’m already pregnant.”

“Just gimme a minute,” he mumbles, suddenly sounding so solemn. He turns his head from where it's resting on the side of your knee to kiss your damp skin. “Didn’t know I was knockin’ you up the first time, just…lemme have this, alright?” 

Your eyes soften. How this man can be such a sap after fucking you like that is beyond comprehension, but if he wants this, then you’ll let him have his moment. It’s kind of sweet, anyway.

“Okay,” you reach up to brush your fingertips along his cheek. It's incredible, really, all of the things you see in Joel's eyes right now. That in this single, fleeting gaze, you can see forever. "Put a baby in me.”

SATURDAY

"Can you stay up all night? Fuck me 'til the daylight. 34, 35."

You’re convinced Joel tastes especially good in the mornings. There’s a hint of sweat to his skin, so naturally bitter and heady, maybe even a little tangy. It’s fucking delicious.

And he’s always hard in the morning. His cock is the perfect alarm clock, always reliable and super effective, whether it’s pulsing against your thigh or rutting into your ass. It’s your favorite way to wake up, but there’s usually not enough time to enjoy it to the fullest.

Not with work and Sarah, even Tommy showing up for breakfast unannounced. But it’s Saturday, which means you can keep your lips wrapped around him for as long as you want, make him cum as many times as you want, and taste him to your heart’s content. 

He probably won’t even wake up, at least not right away. Joel sleeps like the dead, especially on the weekends, and it’s been a long week. Even now, as you suck the tip into your wet, very eager mouth and swallow him down halfway, he barely stirs. 

That’s more than okay with you. You’d be happy to lie in bed, head pillowed on his stomach, keeping his cock warm between your lips while you wait. Relishing how fucking good he tastes and how your jaw pleasantly aches as you adjust to accommodate his girth.

But, soon enough, your jaw isn’t the only thing aching. The slick mess you’re making in your underwear right now is getting hard to ignore, but you don’t want to let him go. He’s velvety smooth against your tongue, dribbling salty precum down your throat, and his unconscious body is starting to respond to you more and more with each passing moment. This is your favorite part.

He lets out a soft grunt, twitching into the inside of your cheek, and your efforts become a little more concentrated and a lot more obvious. You try to forget about your soaked underwear and the pleasurable whoosh in your belly in favor of sucking a little harder, letting saliva pool in your mouth as you slurp loudly around the head.

His hips jerk up, surprising you enough to gag you, and that only makes your mouth and pussy wetter, the heat building in your core almost unbearable now. The moan that escapes you sends a drawn-out series of vibrations straight down to his balls that pulls even more noise from him, and your head steadily shifts with the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

He's starting to rut into your mouth, whimpering, and yet somehow still asleep, and it makes you feel powerful to have full control over him like this. To command his pleasure without any interruption or intervention, making him fall apart entirely at your mercy. You kind of hope you can get him to cum like this, to be his alarm clock for once. 

Turns out only half of your wish is granted, but you don't realize it until Joel's fingers are threading into your hair and abruptly tugging you off. He's definitely awake now, but he also definitely didn't cum. Bummer. You try sucking him back into your mouth, but he tugs you harder even as his hips chase you. 

"Joel, what—?" you glare up at him, but upon seeing him, you feel a little bad for your reaction. He looks so sleepy, still a little dazed from his unconventional wake-up call, blinking blearily like he's doing his best to stay awake. Your expression softens. 

"Sorry, got a little carried away," you murmur sheepishly. "But, um, you taste really good, so if you wanna go back to sleep, I can just keep—"

You're cut off by a hand trailing down your body, following the curve of your ass to dip inside you. He smears the moisture around your entrance, pushing two fingers into you, then pulling out to hold them up to his face. You watch him, enraptured by the way he inspects your wetness, how it strings between his middle and ring fingers. 

Then, he surprises you even further by sucking them into his mouth, his eyes rolling back as he groans around them before slipping them out totally clean. His cock jerks next to your face and you belatedly realize you're drooling.

"Fuck, so do you." He's fully awake now, eyes clear, but dark. Hungry.

"Huh?" you ask dumbly. 

"Ya taste really good," he mumbles, his voice low and so sexy, still thick with sleep. You feel your cheeks heat up. Oh. 

"C'mere, baby," he tells you, patting his chest. You crawl up his body and lean up to kiss him, assuming he wants you to taste yourself in his mouth, but he stops you. "Other way, sweetheart."

Your brows furrow in confusion as you try to work out exactly what he's asking for. Even though you've been awake and riling him up for what feels like hours, your brain clearly hasn't caught up yet. His eyes are unreadable, fingers tense at his sides. Like he's just itching for you to understand.

"Need you to figure this out—know you can do it," he rasps needily. "C'mon, smart girl, what do I want?"

And then it hits you. He's not asking you to sit on his chest, not really. He wants you to sit on his face. Needs you to. Sprawled out on your hands and knees where his spit-slick cock would be just within reach, bobbing temptingly with every breath he takes.

God, you want to. The idea of Joel fucking you with his tongue while he's fucking into your mouth makes you clench so hard it hurts. You bite your lip, meeting his expectant gaze.

Okay. Okay, you can definitely do that. Especially when he looks so...eager. It also has the double advantage of combining mind-blowing sex with a well-rounded breakfast. You have a feeling you'll both be full after this.

"Just so I have this straight—," you splay your fingers across his stomach, trailing down to wrap tightly around his length and tug upward until a single, perfect bead of precum leaks from his slit, "—you still want my mouth here."  

Your eyes stay locked on his as you bend down to lick it off, lingering to suckle the tip and tease your tongue just under the ridge. When he doesn't immediately tug you off, you take him deeper, preening at his harsh intake of breath. 

You don't want to press your luck, but he tastes fucking incredible, somehow even better than he did earlier. Maybe it's the way he's watching you, captivated and attuned to your every movement. 

He’s already starting to buck into you, shallowly, now an active participant in his own pleasure. His knuckles are nearly white with how hard he’s fisting the sheets, teeth gritting as he fights the urge to rush you. 

But his patience is wearing thin. Just a few thrusts later, he tugs you off with what feels like dwindling restraint, and your dazed, glassy eyes don't do much to help.

You look wrecked, and you know it. Lips swollen and slick with saliva, your lashes wet with unshed tears from the effort of taking him. He reaches out to trace your bottom lip with his thumb, hissing when you catch the tip between your teeth.

“Yeah...ngh—yeah, keep doin' that. Suckin' me just like that," he breathes raggedly. "And sit that pretty pussy right here—"

Then, without warning, he's suddenly manhandling you into position, throwing your leg over his head, and maneuvering you until you can feel him panting heavily against your cunt.

“Down, baby, let's go. Wanna taste ya. Now.”

Blunt nails dig into your skin and your hips stutter, dipping low enough for your clit to brush his bottom lip. It’s enough for him to get a taste of you. For him to finally snap and decide he’s done waiting.

Joel yanks you onto his face, licking a wide stripe from your clit to your entrance, his tongue immediately finding a home in your pussy. The motion knocks you off balance and you fall forward, his cock just inches from your mouth.

Bracing a hand on his stomach, you wrap your other around him and he groans throatily in response, the sound deep and muffled as he licks into you with increased fervor. And his noises only grow in volume, vibrating against your folds and sending jolt after jolt into your very sensitive bundle of nerves. 

His mouth feels so fucking hot, and the coarseness of his beard burns, making it hard to concentrate on what you’re desperately trying to accomplish. You’re already panting, hiccuped breaths puffing teasingly and cruelly against him until he’s pulsing in your grip. 

The promise of him throbbing just like that down your throat makes you focus just long enough to take him back into your mouth, intent on sucking him down as far as your body will let you. But, by now, any sense of self-control he might’ve had before is totally gone. His hips buck clean off the mattress at the tightness of your lips around him, and he all but chokes you with the force of it, the size of him. 

And, fuck, you love it. The way his stomach tenses, his thighs trembling beneath you. You can’t tell where your body ends and his begins, not when he’s fucking into you every single way he can. His tongue spears into you and your pussy rhythmically squeezes him every time his cock grazes the back of your throat. 

You’re audibly gagging around him and it’s filthy as hell, but you can tell how much it’s turning him on. Christ, can you tell. Maybe you were genuinely worried you’d suffocate him at first but, now, you probably couldn’t stop yourself from grinding into his face even if you tried. And that's exactly what he wants.

"...Harder—mmph, c'mon, baby," you feel him groan into your cunt, urging your hips even lower. "—ride me harder, harder."

How—he...fuck, he's...? Everywhere. He's everywhere. You struggle to do what he told you, to use him for your mounting pleasure, but it doesn't fucking matter anymore. You're helpless but to let him do whatever he wants to you.

Joel’s devouring you. Roughly grabbing your ass, moaning pathetically into you as he pulls your cheeks apart for better access. It’s almost like you can feel him swelling between your lips, and you try to pull up for just a second of respite. 

But, then, he abruptly shifts. His mouth lowers to suck gently, yet fleetingly on your clit twice, then he licks a wide stripe back up to your entrance. Except, he doesn’t stop there. Instead, he continues his path up, gathering your wetness as he goes, and swirls his tongue around your other hole before sucking hard. And it sends you reeling.

Jesus fucking Christ, that’s new. Fuck, and it’s—so...so good. It’s indescribable, how he feels right now. How he sounds—slurping you up, whimpering desperately like he’ll cum at any moment. 

And he’s loud, drawn-out moans escaping from so deep within his chest, they climb their way from that tight ring of muscle straight up your spine, where you can vaguely feel his arm snaking around you to claw at your back. You can’t think anymore—you’re done thinking. 

Now, it’s just him trapping you in place, the three fingers he’s suddenly pumping into your spasming pussy, and his cock, now abandoned and leaking on his stomach. It’s so much, bordering on too much, and you can’t hold yourself up anymore.

Your head drops unceremoniously onto the puddle of precum and it smears across your cheek as his hips urgently roll into nothing. But you don’t even notice. Not even when your eyes roll back and you start to babble deliriously, your orgasm building quickly in a place between your legs you can’t even begin to explain.

“Joel…JoelJoelJoel—I…you…,” you slam a hand down on the mattress as your thighs start to quake violently. “…cumming—‘m cumming, fuck—fuck.”

It doesn’t just crash over you, it rocks you to your core. Everything below your waist locks down, squeezing his fingers so tight, you swear you can feel each individual knuckle. Your jaw drops, parting around what feels like a silent scream, but you can’t be totally sure because soon, Joel is groaning so gutturally, you can’t focus on anything else.

At least, until he cums completely untouched right into your face. And he cums hard. Thick spurts cover your lips and chin, landing haphazardly on your cheek, and your tongue darts out to taste him, salty and sated and perfect. Exactly what you've been waiting for.

His thighs tense intermittently, a few more drops dribbling out of his slit, and you crane your neck, letting your tongue flutter over his head. As it pulses weakly against your lips, Joel gasps out your name, burying his face in your swollen pussy again. 

Lazily, you swivel your hips into his mouth despite the extreme overstimulation, hiccuping soft moans and nearly succumbing to the easy pleasure. He gently caresses your clit, enveloping you with a dextrous warmth that simultaneously makes you jolt and crave the sensation. 

Neither of you want to stop. Truthfully, you'd let him do this to you all day, drawing orgasm after orgasm from each other the way you have been all week. But exhaustion's starting to set in and you're not sure your body can physically take any more.

Joel slaps your ass and you huff out a soft laugh, deciding it's time to separate so you can get cozy with him again. The perfect end to your surprisingly athletic, lazy Saturday morning in bed.

“You gonna stop anytime soon, or do you just live there now?” you pant teasingly, grimacing as you slowly lift your head off his stomach. 

Shit, you’re a mess. You’re practically stuck to him, his cum drying on his stomach and your face, and you can feel the stickiness of his saliva mixed with your juices dripping between your legs. His hand trails from your ass down to your inner thigh, painting mindless patterns on your sullied skin.

"Sure don't seem like ya want me to stop," he chuckles tiredly, managing to suck your clit chastely one last time before you jerk your hips away. 

His head finally drops onto the pillow below him, and he lets out a disgruntled whine when you toss your leg over his head, plopping down on the bed beside him.

"Yeah, well, one of us has to have a little self-control or we're not leaving this bed today. And you, uh, look like you could use some tidying up,” you snort, scratching your fingertips against his already crusting beard. He mimics the motion on your leg, and you swat his hand away, rolling your eyes fondly.

It would be disgusting if it were literally anyone else but Joel but, here in this bed—your bed—it feels so natural. Like it’s totally normal that you’d be covered in each other’s releases, having a silly conversation on a Saturday morning as if you’ve done this all your lives. 

“Might wanna look in the mirror, baby. I’d be more’n happy to keep lookin’ at ya like this, but—,” he leans up to wipe a streak of cum off your bottom lip. His hand lingers, cupping your damp cheek, and you instinctively lean into his touch. “—you probably need more cleanin’ up than I do.” 

You eye each other for a few seconds, taking in how truly disgusting you both are, before bursting into fits of laughter. You’re smiling so hard, your skin tugs under his drying release and that makes you laugh even harder.

“Alright, alright, filthy girl,” he jokes, wiping a stray tear from his eye. “Lay down, I’ll take care of ya.”

He sits up and slowly slides off the bed, yanking your legs out from under you as he goes. Still giggling, you flop onto the damp, cotton sheets with an oomph and immediately take the opportunity to stretch out your sore limbs. You nuzzle into your pillow with a soft mewl, practically purring as you try to soak up the warm morning rays streaming through the gaps in the curtains.

You glance over at Joel as you continue to nest like a gigantic cat, but he's already watching you, paused in the doorway to the bathroom. His eyes rove appreciatively down your naked body and you observe him quietly, deciding you'll let him stare for as long as he wants to. There's no rush. Sure, you're still a mess and probably have the worst bedhead imaginable, but despite it all, he makes you feel beautiful. 

When he returns with a cool, damp washcloth a few minutes later, he's much cleaner and you're only a little bummed that the evidence of your explosive morning is gone. He's gentle and attentive as he wipes the remaining streaks off your cheeks and chin, and bends down to kiss you once your face is officially cum-free. 

Okay, maybe you lied earlier. This is your favorite part. Joel taking care of you, choosing to express his affection through his actions and touch. You sigh into his mouth, melting into the first real kiss you've shared since waking up, and it takes his tongue tangling with yours for you to realize he tastes minty. He's always so delicious.

Trailing further down, he wipes his release off your stomach, pressing his lips to each freshly-cleaned inch of skin, and then crawls between your legs to wash away the mess he made of your thighs. Your eyes start to flutter closed at the repetitive shift in sensation, his hands lulling you to sleep, until the washcloth hits the floor with a dull splat.

Well, that was over way too soon. But you quickly forgive the horrible transgression once his warm, welcome body sinks into the bed next to you, and his tousled head of hair and beard nuzzle into your stomach.

He mouths at your skin, his lips pressing sweetly around your belly button, and it tickles, making you laugh as you thread your fingers through his curls and scratch his scalp affectionately. 

After a moment of comfortable silence, his hand splays warm and broad next to his head. His expression shifts and he looks unexpectedly pensive. Uncertainty creeps into your chest before you can logic it away, even though you know without a doubt that he wants this. His lips begin to move against your stomach and it takes a second for you to realize he's saying something, almost too quietly for you to hear. But when it finally registers, all of that fear completely fades away.

"Hey there, kiddo. It's me, your daddy," he murmurs, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin as soothing as his words. He has the tiniest smile on his face, and it's growing wider by the second. "We're all so excited to meet ya. Me, your momma, your big sister, your uncle...we already love ya so damn much."

The room starts to blur into a wash of colors and figures, and shit, you're crying. But how could you not be? He's...talking to your tiny clump of cells. To your baby—who can't possibly be bigger than a pumpkin seed—with so much adoration, it makes your chest ache. 

You're trying so hard not to tremble or sniffle or breathe too heavily so you don't startle him, but that doesn't exactly work out. A few stray tears make their way up your nose, and you snort around your next inhale. Classic, clumsy you.

Joel's head shoots up like he's been caught and his cheeks flush that beautiful shade of burgundy you love so much. You don't want him to stop, but he looks so embarrassed like he thinks he's done something wrong. That couldn't be further from the truth. 

"I'm just emotional from the hormones, it's totally fine. I'm totally fine," you give him a reassuring, watery grin. "Keep going. I think they like the sound of daddy's voice."

He chuckles and reaches up to wipe your tears away, gently cradling your face in his hand before he slides it back down to your belly. He continues where he left off, just like you asked, but you have a sneaking suspicion he would've anyway. Joel's just one of those men who was born to be a dad. It comes as naturally to him as breathing.

“Heard that? That's your momma, kiddo. She's....well. She's somethin' else. Strongest, most lovin', person I've ever known and fuckin' sharp as a tack," he smiles up at you, eyes crinkling and bright as the goddamn sun. "And she's beautiful. She even sounds beautiful, don't she? Hopin' you'll come out just like her."

You scoff affectionately, shaking your head as you share a look that tells you he knows exactly what you're thinking. If this baby pops out without his brown eyes and curls, you're going to be so pissed. You teasingly tug his hair, willing him to take it back, but he won't. If your baby's getting anything from the two of you, it's stubbornness.

Then, before you can blink, there's a sudden tone shift. His hand finds yours, lacing your fingers together, and he turns his head so he's speaking directly into your belly. An exchange just between a father and his child.

"Wanna know a secret? S'just between you and me, though, alright? Don't go tellin' your momma," he says nosing into your soft skin, his voice barely above a whisper. You watch him curiously, squeezing his hand to get his attention, but his focus remains on your stomach. "'m gonna ask your momma to marry me. Think she'll say yes?"

Your heart stops and it feels like all of the air's been sucked out of the room. That's—fuck...that's one hell of a secret to share with your baby. You can't even imagine the kind of trouble they're going to get up to if they're already keeping secrets like that. 

His eyes flit up to meet yours, but they're not questioning or expectant. He isn't wondering what your answer will be. He just looks peaceful. Blanketed in an easy calm because he already knows what you're going to say. Of course, he does. 

Propping his chin on your hip, Joel quietly observes your reaction while he strokes the back of your hand with the rough pad of his thumb. You wonder what he sees on your face and in your body language right now because you're positive it's not the elation or excessive joy anyone else would expect.

You're not squealing or jumping up and down, or whatever newly engaged people usually do. No, that blanket of easy calm is more than big enough for both of you, and it feels safe and warm, just like you always knew this moment would. 

And you wouldn't want it any other way. Lying here together after possibly the most eventful week of your lives, filled with so much sex and love and family, and deciding that you want to keep doing this together, over and over. Forever.

You guide his hand up to your lips, pressing a firm, lingering kiss to his palm, before placing it over your racing heart. That tiny smile returns to his face and he crawls up your body so he can kiss you properly, conveying his love better than words ever could. 

It's still way too early for your baby to kick or give their daddy any sort of sign that they heard his question, but you're sure they wouldn't mind if you answered for them. It's a no-brainer, anyway.

"Yeah, I do."

thanks for reading! 💕

[puck-luck]

play house with me | alex lyon

warnings: breeding kink HEAVYYYYY, use of mommy/mama/daddy but it’s very brief and not always related to the sex, obvious creampie???, childhood best friends to lovers &&& co-parents LOVE, mentions of breastmilk during the fucking (alex will totally want to try said breastmilk when it comes in), dirty talk pairing: alex lyon x fem!reader request: yes (alex lyon gets reader pregnant woohoooooo) wc: 2940

Everyone has made a deal like this before– especially those with guy best friends, like you. It didn’t help that you had had an on-again, off-again crush on Alex since you both were teenagers and he had grown into his looks. You had known him for practically your whole life and Alex was the picture-perfect boy next door with his dark curls and goofy personality, so it was a no-brainer when Alex proposed a pact. 

You were both eighteen at the time, ready to go your separate ways for college. It was late, a warm and humid summer night, and you and Alex has just gone for ice cream. You were picking at your cup of ice cream with your spoon, watching it melt in the rapid summer heat. It was then that Alex said, “You know, if we’re thirty and neither of us are with someone else, we should have a kid.”

It was no secret that you wanted to have kids, nor a secret that Alex wanted to have kids, so the deal was a no-brainer. You said yes, not thinking much of it because… why wouldn’t you be with someone by age thirty?

Well, it’s funny. Yesterday was your thirtieth birthday, and here you are: single. Frustrated and annoyed can also describe your current state. 

Alex had texted you the day before to wish you a happy birthday, promising to see you when he came back into town today. He should be on the way to your apartment right now and all you can think about is the deal you made twelve years prior. 

You had no doubt about it– you wanted to have a baby and you wanted to do it with Alex. You just had to broach the subject, but you were torn about how to bring up the deal without sounding desperate or weird. There was a chance Alex wouldn’t even remember your deal, even though he was the one who thought of it in the first place. 

When he arrives and knocks on your front door, you let him in with an awkward hug hello. It’s only awkward because you know that you’re about to ask him something that will change your friendship and relationship forever. Alex, always able to read you like an open book, notices that you’re acting weird immediately and calls you out on it.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Alex asks, quirking an eyebrow at you with a bemused smile. “Are you alright?”

You groan, rolling your head back. “How do you always know?”

Alex’s smile turns into a proud smirk. “Because I know you. What are you thinking about?”

“Just some stuff about you and turning thirty,” you reply, ready to explain yourself further.

Alex interrupts. “Thinking about our baby pact?”

You balk at him, shocked. “How did you know?”

“Again– because I know you.” Alex repeats. His gaze takes in your features, admiring you. He brushes a piece of hair behind your ear. “Plus, it’s part of the reason why I wanted to see you today.”

“Oh, yeah?” You ask, a little laugh tinging your words. “You wanted to come over so we could discuss babies?”

“Isn’t that why you agreed to have me over?” Alex answers with his own question, smug because he knows he’s right. “So that we could even go a little further, since you’re thirty now, and our pact has to come to fruition?”

You blush, biting your lower lip and rolling your eyes. You’re pretending to be annoyed, but you’re really just fond. Alex does know you best, can practically read your mind and provide you with anything you want before you realize you want it. Before now, that mostly related to when you could go and get food together– he always knew exactly what you were craving, always taking you to the right restaurant that would hit the spot and satisfy you indefinitely. 

Now, it’s a much bigger decision, one that will change your lives forever, but Alex is completely on board. So are you.

Once again, it’s a no-brainer.

“I wouldn’t complain,” you tease, purposefully coy. 

“Good.” Alex sweeps you off your feet, carrying you over one shoulder. “We can talk about everything later. I’ve been dying to get my hands on you for years.”

He says it casually, like that’s not the most Earth-shattering revelation you’ve ever heard. You and Alex had always toed the line of flirtation and all of your friends swore that you were meant to be, but things had never gone this far. You and Alex had never kissed, save for one accidental peck when you turned your cheek in surprise and caught his lips, the ones intending to meet your skin in a sweet greeting. It had caused a laugh, but it was the closest to romance that you and Alex had ever physically experienced. 

Now, he’s tossing you on your bed and climbing above you like this is an everyday occurrence. 

“Alex,” you say, putting a hand on his chest to stop his movements. “Are you really, really sure about this? It’s a big decision.”

“I’ve wanted to have a baby with you since I was five years old and you made me be the daddy when we played house,” Alex replies, leaning down to capture your earlobe between his teeth. “You were the mommy to our little baby doll and the idea never left my mind. Now we’re thirty, single, and I think we should make my dream a reality. I’m all in, Y/N.”

A breath of relief leaves your lungs at his reassurance. He mouths along your jaw, coming to hover with his lips just out of reach of your own. You look up at him, waiting for him to make a move. 

Alex looks up from your lips, finding your eyes. “Are you really, really sure about this?” He parrots back, lips twisting up at the edges. “You’re the one who’s going to be tasked with carrying our baby.”

You make a soft noise of assent, the breathy moan pulled from your stomach like a gut-punch. 

Alex chuckles. “You like that, huh?” He brushes a kiss against the left corner of your mouth, then the right. “You’re going to look so pretty all swollen and full of me. I want it so bad, Y/N. I’ll give you as many babies as you want. I might have to keep you pregnant all the time– you’re going to glow, darling.”

Moaning again, you bring your hands up to his face and pull him into you, crashing your lips against his. Eager and desperate, you kiss him until you’re breathless and your cheeks have gone hot. As far as first kisses go, this is your favorite one you’ve ever had. Alex is confident and just as eager as you are, his tongue filling your mouth and tasting you like he could devour you. Inadvertently, you find yourself wondering how his tongue would feel against your clit and your entrance, but that can wait for another time.

Another time, because this will certainly be happening again. It’s the easiest decision you could ever make, seeking out Alex again. You’re comfortable with him, you’re happy when he’s around, and you love him deeply. You know him and he knows you. Your friends were right all along– you two are meant to be.

“Do you want it? I need you to tell me,” Alex implores between kisses, allowing his hands to roam over your body. 

It’s distracting and it takes a moment for his words to click, especially when his hands find their way under your shirt and start to pet over the skin under which your ribs reside. 

“I want it,” you cry when Alex’s fingertips graze your underboob. You whine when his fingers withdraw from your middle, but Alex soothes you with a whispered coo and a soft kiss to your lips.

He lifts your shirt over your head, leaving you in your bra underneath him. He grabs his own shirt by the back collar, pulling it over his head and revealing his bare chest to your wandering eyes. You drink him in, running your hands all over his warm body and feeling the ridges of the muscles he’s worked so hard to build and maintain over the years. 

He brings a hand to your chest, cupping the swell of your breast and fishing your boob out of the article of clothing, pinching your nipple. After one final kiss, Alex brings his lips down and replaces his fingers with his teeth, nibbling at the peak of your breast before sucking. 

You arch your back, your hand fisting his curls again. You moan out a wanton sound and you can feel Alex’s lips curve into a smile against your skin. He releases your nipple with a wet pop, kissing over your sternum and up your neck. 

“So pretty, mama,” Alex mumbles against your skin, lips warm and scarring. You wish you could tattoo the path he takes along your chest, physically marking your body permanently so you never forget this. “Let’s make a baby, hm? Give me a real reason to use that name?”

“Give me a baby,” you agree, tousling his curls. “I wanna make you a daddy, Alex.”

Alex groans against your skin, popping the button on your jeans and drawing the zipper down. His mouth doesn’t leave your body, not even for a second as he struggles to work the tight denim down your body. 

You adjust yourself on the bed, helping him push the fabric down. You take to his own bottoms, tugging eagerly at his waistband until he gets the hint and removes his shorts. You push him down, making him sit back against the headboard. You swing a leg over his lap, straddling him. Still separated by the barrier of both of your underwears between you, you sink down on his bulge in a satisfying grind. 

Alex’s hands find your hips, pulling you flush against him and rolling his own hips. He reconnects your lips, swallowing every sound you make and vice versa. He’s straining against his boxers, pulsing against you with each grind.

“I want to ride you,” you tell Alex. “Just like this.”

Alex moans, closing his eyes and throwing his head back, knocking it against the headboard in the process. “Fuck,” he breathes out. “Want me to prep you?”

“No, I want to feel everything,” you say. “I want to feel your big cock stretch me all on its own before it fucks a baby into me.”

Your words only spur him on and he jostles you on his lap as he tries to remove his underwear without feeling your absence. You take matters into your own hands and remove yourself from his lap to take off your own underwear, tossing it onto the floor without another thought, the thin scrap of fabric joining the rest of your scattered clothes. 

Both bare and dripping, you climb back on top of Alex, fitting his cock between your folds to grind against him before allowing him to breach your entrance. You spread your slick all over his member, using his precum and your wetness as lube. 

Alex whines at the contact, clutching at your skin desperately after he removes your bra with both hands. Your boobs sit prettily on your chest, drawing Alex’s eyes and causing his pupils to swell. He cups one and licks over the nipple he hadn’t previously sucked, needing something to occupy his mouth and muffle his sounds. He’s far gone– the idea of filling you up has him channeling something primal, overtaken by his instinct to stuff you with his cock and thoroughly breed you.

He wasn’t lying when he said he’d been thinking about it for years– one of the images that caused him to spill over his fist countless of times in his twenties was just this: fucking you bare and starting a family with you, forever entertwining your souls and destinies in an irreversible way. You would be his, in this way, forever. He could shoot off now thinking about it, but the promise of the real thing stops him.

And the real thing comes sooner than he thinks, with you rising up onto your knees and lining him up with your entrance. You lower yourself down slowly, achingly slow. It takes everything out of Alex to not buck up into your heat as the head of his cock enters you with a jolt.

The sigh that leaves your mouth and the roll of your eyes chips away his restraint even more than your heat. All of your pretty noises are like a watering hole in the middle of the desert to Alex– and he’s lapping them up. 

“Y/N,” Alex moans as you work your way down his shaft. Your walls hug him tightly, squeezing him as you take his cock. “Fuck, you feel so good. You’re made for me.”

“Alex,” you sigh, pressing his forehead against yours. You’re unable to form many words other than that– melting into a puddle of moans and whines as you find yourself sinking fully onto his length, enveloping him entirely. He reaches the deepest part of you, his tip nudging your back wall. 

“Can’t wait to see these tits all full of milk,” Alex tells you, filling in the gaps of silence. He reaches up, cupping the weight in his palms and kissing over the smooth skin in his hands. “You’re going to be so great to our baby.”

You start to bounce on his cock, tossing your head back as the ecstasy of fulfillment washes over you. His words just spur you on.

“You’ll take care of them so well, won’t you?” Alex asks, his question rhetorical.

Your response is a moan and a stutter in your rhythm, which causes Alex to take over. He flips you over without pulling out, your back hitting the mattress and knocking the breath out of you.

Alex practically breathes life back into you when he kisses you, insistent but charged with the sweet love that you share for each other. It’s the love that you’ve shared since you were kids– and now, it’s the love that you’ll pass along to your child. 

“Fuck, Alex,” you whine at the thought, unable to keep it to yourself. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Alex says, kissing you again. His thrusts are harder in this position, hitting you deeper. 

It feels impossible, being in this position with Alex. Yes, your friends had always said that you and Alex were meant to be, but there was a line you’d never crossed. You never expected to cross it. Now, with Alex inside of you and filling you so well, ready to start the next chapter of your lives with each other, you can’t imagine it any other way. 

Alex continues, pushing you further towards your peak. “This pussy was made to take my babies, huh? Made just for me?”

“Yeah,” you agree, breathless, pulling Alex down to connect your lips. You can barely handle the words, much less the little noises and grunts that fill your mouth during the kiss. 

It’s like you’re becoming one being. Everything is perfect, and you’re feeling so good that your orgasm approaches quicker than expected. 

“Alex, ‘m gonna come,” you let out, holding him tight.

“Let it go, lovebug,” Alex coos, tracing the line of your cheek with a light touch. “I’m right there with you.”

Your eyes roll back and your mouth opens in a silent scream. Alex continues to fuck into you, prolonging the waves of pleasure that overtake you with each bump of his cockhead against your g-spot. You’re moaning unintelligibly, jumbled words falling from your mouth and barely reaching Alex’s ears. 

He shoots off when you keen into his mouth, teeth clashing in a messy union that has you on the verge of laughter. You’ve never laughed during sex before, but it just seems right. Everything with Alex seems right.

His seed fills you and warms you from the inside out, settling deep in your core and coating your walls in the weirdest, most unique feeling you’ve ever experienced. You can feel the come dripping down from your ridges, letting gravity take control as it starts to leak out of you when Alex pulls out. 

You pout, closing your legs as much as you can with Alex still between them in order to keep his release from leaving you, desperate for it to take. 

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” Alex soothes, brushing your hair away from your face and thumbing over the sweat on your brow. 

You don’t reply, enamored by the way his own curls have gone sweaty and his cheeks and dusted with a blush from the exertion of your union. You bite your lip as Alex opens his mouth to speak again, admiring his straight white teeth in a moment that should be weird, but isn’t. You hope your baby has his teeth– no need to pay for braces, not that that’s something you’d have to worry about with Alex’s salary.

“We’re going to go again in a bit, I think,” Alex muses, his words a proposition rather than a command, despite his definitive tone. He kisses over your face, little pecks that make you giggle again. His lips find yours, sweet and chaste. When he pulls away, he whispers conspiratorially in your ear. “Gonna fuck you all night to make sure this takes.” He winks, a smile crossing his face. “Join me in the shower, mama? I want to wash your hair for you.”

note: this is for my lyon girlie who was all up in my asks, ily <3 i hope i captured your man well and you enjoyed this <3

[lowkeyremi]

TWO TIMES THE FUN !

pairing: atsumu x fem!reader note: ITS MY BABIES BIRTHDAYS!!!!!! I didn’t know who I wanted to write about because I didn’t want to make two separate fics this year. I wanted this fic to be longer than what I usually go for. So of course, as much as I love samu I had to make it all about his brother!! Sorry for those hoping for some samu action </3 (ALSO NGL I feel like this fic was all over the place 😭) summary: it’s your boyfriend and his twin’s birthday ! can you, suna, and the others successfully plan out their party or will it be total chaos? content: fluff, relationships, atsumu being a little piece of shit as per usual, msby four cameos, kisses, a lot of teasing, swearing, children (tsumu’s twins from haikyuu men as fathers), just pure joy tbh. wc: 2.8k

“Alright guys, I’ll see you tonight. Atsumu, make sure to let the nanny know that the chicken is in the fridge and she can make whatever with it for dinner. Love you all!” Atsumu nods his head firmly, whilst the twins are behind him, attempting to push him out of the way to get one more hug in.

“Papa move out the way! We need to hug Mama.” Kensuke stresses to his father. The little boy is pushing with all his might to move his father’s legs, only to make no progress. Atsumu is a professional athlete after all, it would probably be questionable if his legs buckled, because a five year old was pushing them.

“Ya already gave yer Mama plenty of hugs ya rude lil sh- shrimp!” Atsumu immediately looks away at the doorframe with sudden interest, as to avoid a lecture from you.

While he’s somewhat distracted Kosuke crawls under his father’s legs to give you a hug. He’s always been the smarter one out of the twins.

“Bye Ko, take care of Papa and Kensuke for me, alright?” A sudden seriousness takes over Kosuke’s face.

“I will Mama.” While Atsumu is distracted bickering with his carbon copy, you sneak to your car in order to leave for ‘work’. For the past couple of days you’ve been going to Osamu’s shop straight after work to meet up with Suna, who was paying 10890 yen just to take the train there and back every evening.

‘For what purpose?’ one might one ask. Well, for the Miya twins surprise party, of course. Although, Atsumu had said he didn’t want to have a party for his 29th birthday, since it’s not an important one, you and Suna decided you’d throw one anyway. It’s quite important to you, his last year being in his 20s.

Everything has gone according to plan so far, the cake order is put in, the decorations are stored in the supply room of Onigiri Miya, and neither twin knows about the surprise.

Osamu is in Tokyo; helping out with his relatively new branch of Onigiri Miya. He set up shop there a year ago, but he still goes in to check on the shop every here and there. He’s going to be back Friday morning, so Suna said he would distract him and keep him away from the shop since that’s when you’ll be setting up decorations.

It would be ideal to put the decorations up earlier, but Onigiri Miya in Osaka is still open during the week thanks to Osamu’s most diligent employee, who runs the place while he’s gone.

Said employee has been giving you access to the shop, so you can set up the party, without Osamu’s knowledge.

According to Suna, Osamu hadn’t mentioned anything about their birthday. He didn’t even suggest something small. Who could blame him though? After all, he is a business owner with a new branch, of course he’s bound to forget things.

Everyday at work you’ve been doing your work for that day, plus some work for tomorrow, so you can leave earlier to touch up on party planning. There are only two more days until the party and you feel very confident about everything. As of now, everything is going to plan, causing your heart to race in excitement. A reoccurring buzz from your phone pulls you out of your thoughts.

It doesn’t even register that you should check the ID caller, before answering, “hey.”

“It’s Suna, you mind if I bring Komori with me today? He says he’d like to help.” For some reason Suna always sounds so bored over the phone, which makes it difficult to pick up his real tone. The only way you can tell how he feels is when looking at him.

“That’s perfect! Tell him we’d love to have him help. The more hands the better.” A hum reaches your ear in response.

“Okay I gotta go, I’m pulling into work. Shoot me a text when you guys arrive, so I can pick you up.”

“Will do, bye.” Suna hangs up before you can say goodbye back to him.

“Soooo, what can I help with?” The three of you walk into Onigiri Miya’s main location, with plastic bags in your arms. There’s a certain eagerness in Komori’s tone that makes you smile. It’s very refreshing considering how nonchalant and indifferent Suna can be.

“Well, I’ve ordered custom balloons and they need to be picked up soon. You can take my car as long as you have your license.”

“Gotcha! Just send me the address and the receipt for the balloons.” You’re almost surprised how quickly Komori is on board, because if you had asked Suna he probably would have looked up the distance, then decided that you’ll go get the balloons and he’ll stay here and decorate.

“Alright, thank you Komori for being helpful, unlike somebody.” Suna scoffs at your unsubtle hint to him being lazy.

“Whatever, I’ve been coming everyday after work, paying 20k for the train here and back, plus doing everything you tell me to-”

You quickly intercept before he can continue his rant, “Yeah after I have to beg you like twenty times and I’ve already asked you if I could pay for your train and you said no!”

“That’s because your stupid husband would come for my throat if I did.” An eye roll was sent your way by Suna.

“There’s no need to fight guys, we’re doing this for the twins right? So we gotta work together.” Komori steps in before the fight can really escalate. Something all parties have learned is that you and Suna work well together, until you start fighting. Which was exactly why you only dated him for a month in high school. (Yeah tsumu got with his friend’s ex. To be fair he liked you before Suna did. Plus there’s no hard feelings.)

“You’re right, here are my keys, Komori.” The male takes the keys from you and walks out of the door to retrieve the balloons.

“Alright, Rin. Let’s get to work.” He nods in agreement.

“Not your left, my left!” Once again, you’re raising your voice.

“Then you should have said that.” Even though you can’t see his face because you’re behind him, it’s obvious that he’s rolling his eyes at you. Suna moves the banner left a little bit,

“Okay stop that’s good!” He slumps down a little bit, most likely sore from raising his arms for so long.

“Well we’ve done all we can do for today since the shop still needs to open tomorrow.” Suna nods, hopping off of the chair he was standing on.

“How far away is Komori with the alcohol?” Komori brought back the balloons half an hour ago and you immediately sent him back out to get the drinks of choice.

“He should be back in a little while, your train will be arriving soon, right?”

“Yeah, but we’re not too far from the station, so we should be alright.” He shrugs.

“I’m here!” As if on cue Komori busts through the door with a few bottles of liquor. The professional athlete seems to be out of breath.

“Why are you so out of breath, dude? You literally just had to get out of the car and walk in here.” Komori just ignores Suna and brings the bottles the storage room were everything else for the party is.

“That’s all, right? I don’t think I have enough time to run another errand.” Worry settles on Komori’s face, he must be trying to figure out what to say if you did ask him to do something else.

“Yep that’s all, I’ll drive you guys back to the station. Will you be coming back tomorrow to help set up everything?” Hopefully he says yes, but you can’t be too sad if he doesn’t, he’s a grown man with a job afterall.

“Hell yeah I will be!”

“Hurry up!” You repeat once again, in fear you guys might be late to the party. Atsumu still doesn’t know you guys have thrown him a party. All he does know is that he’s going to have a birthday dinner at his brother’s place.

“Are the boys ready? M’coming babe. Why couldn’t we have gone to eat somewhere else? We always eat at ‘Samu’s” Atsumu grumbles quietly while buttoning up his dress shirt.

“I know, I know, but since dinner was such a last minute decision, I asked Osamu if we could just eat at the shop.” Little does your husband know you’re lying. He doesn’t ultimately seem to mind eating at his brother’s shop anyway. The two have been too busy living their adult lives to link up like they used to do every Friday evening.

Atsumu goes to respond but he’s cut off by small wails of terror, “Mama!!! Kensuke’s wearing my shirt.” Kosuke is usually the more composed of the two, but he does have his moments where he loses it.

“Nuh-uh butt-face! It’s my shirt!” Kensuke bursts in after him, almost knocking his brother to the floor with brute force.

“Hey what did I say about calling each other-”

“GIVE IT BACK YA PIECE OF CRAP!” Kosuke screams while trying to rip the shirt off of his twin.

Your eyes widen in terror at your son’s choice of words.

“Kosuke Miya!” The boy goes completely stiff when he hears the way you call his name.

“Where did you hear that?” There’s a fat chance it was from your husband or your brother in law or both, honestly.

“Uh… um. Well, I heard papa say that when he was fightin’ with Uncle ‘Samu, but he didn’t say crap.” Kosuke starts to nervously pick at his fingernails.

“He said the S word didn’t he?” Kosuke nods, so much for keeping a secret. Atsumu’s never saying anything vulgar in front of his children again.

“Atsumu Miya.” You turn your head to meet his gaze and he gives you sheepish smile.

“M’sorry babe. It won’t happen again. Could ya cut me some slack? It’s my birthday.” He pleads with those puppy dog eyes.

A loud sigh leaves your lips, “Fine but we are picking this up later.” Your husband nods in agreement.

“Okay now, why do you think your brother stole your shirt…”

A whole forty-five minutes later, the Miya family has finally made it into the car. You made sure to call Suna before you left, so he could make sure to bring Osamu to the shop. The brunette succeeded in keeping Osamu busy on Friday.

“Look at my boys, you’re all so handsome.” The twins and Atsumu gush at your compliment. Like father like sons, you guess.

Excitement buzzes throughout your body, causing you to smile ear to ear during the car ride there.

“What’s got ya so excited, my love?” Atsumu asks looking over at you from the passenger seat. Atsumu can drive, it’s just that he’s the worst driver in the world. So, if you’re riding with him you always vow to drive. He’s a passenger princess anyway.

“I’m overwhelmed with happiness that you’ve lived to see another birthday and that we get to celebrate you and your brother.” Atsumu smiles up until the last part of your sentence.

“Ya could’a left out the ‘your brother’ part.” Luckily for you when he said that, you’ve reached a red light, so you reach over to slap him lightly on the shoulder.

“Don’t even pretend like you don’t like ‘Samu. As much as I want to deny it he is your other half.” You put your focus back on the road as he speaks up,

“Yer my other half, baby. In a romantic sense, but I guess that scrub is my other half too.”

“So you, Mama, ‘n Uncle ‘Samu are like thirds, ‘n y’all share Mama?” Kensuke’s innocent question causes Atsumu’s face to scrunch up in disgust. There’s no way in hell he’d share you with his brother.

“Hel- heck nah. Think of it as two circles ‘n Papa is one half of both circles. The other halves are yer Mama and Uncle ‘Samu.” Kensuke’s confusion tenfolds at the analogy his father gave him.

“Um… okay.” The backseat is quiet for the rest of the ride, which you can only be thankful for.

“Is ‘Samu even in there? The blinds are closed.” Atsumu is holding Kensuke and Kosuke’s small hands. The four of you walk up to the door,

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure he’s here.” The blinds are closed, because Atsumu’s parents, former high school teammates, and current teammates are inside waiting for the birthday boys.

“Ya lyin’ on my name?” A voice comes from behind you. Atsumu’s head whips around to see his brother standing behind him with Suna.

Kosuke is the first to break from his father’s grip.

“Uncle ‘Samu! Happy birthday!” Osamu squats down to hold his arms out for the young boy to hug him.

Kensuke follows in pursuit, “I wanted to hug Uncle ‘Samu first-uh!” He tries to pull his brother away from Osamu and ends up scratching him on the face.

Before the boys can once again start up another tantrum Osamu steps in, “Now now, guys, there’s enough of me to go around. Don’t want yer pops to get jealous, do ya?”

Atsumu turns his head away ignoring his brother’s statement.

“Let’s go inside, jeez, if yer serving dinner; why the heck aren’t ya in yer shop?” Your husband is practically fuming at his sons’ reactions to their Uncle.

“I wasn’t even gonna serve ya, stupid. My employee called saying that they left the shop unlocked by accident, so I was coming here to close it. Suna decided to follow along.”

It takes them a few seconds but they connect the dots, first turning to Suna and then to you.

You don’t allow them to get a word in though because you push open the glass door and scream out, “Surprise guys!!”

Along with all the others inside of the building.

“Babe… I thought we weren’t doing anything big?” Atsumu straightens himself up, as if he hadn’t embarrassed himself in front of everyone that is inside of the shop before.

“Atsumu, honey are ya really gonna complain when yer wife did all of this for you and yer brother?” His mother luckily swoops in to save you. She gives you a quick wink that practically says ‘I’ve got you honey.’

“I ain’t complaining…”

“I still can’t believe I came to such a dumb event.” Sakusa grumbles beside you. He’s always been like that, you’ve realized. The only thing that has changed is that he doesn’t really mean any of the remarks he says.

He’ll never admit but he doesn’t really hate your husband.

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” Something you’d also learned about Sakusa is that his alcohol tolerance is kind of low. Every thing that Sakusa is saying, is just the liquor talking.

“I could go on for days, really. He’s obnoxious, loud mouthed, vulgar, gross-”

“Omi! Ya know my wife is desensitized to all yer bad mouthin’. She’s seen it all.” Atsumu’s cheeks and ears are a soft pink.

“You, do not need any more drinks tonight.” You take Atsumu’s glass of whatever the hell he’s drinking. Behind where you and Sakusa are standing is the cooler, you waste no time grabbing a juice box and shoving it into your husband’s hands.

“I’m still surprised she hasn’t gone runnin’ for the hills yet. Ya drove me off the wall fer eighteen years of my life ‘n now, poor [name] has doomed herself to a life sentence with ya.” Osamu joins in on the Atsumu slander club.

“She agreed to marry me you stupid idiot!” Osamu chuckles at that, knocking back another shot.

“Yeah! [name]-chan love, love, loves, ‘Tsumu!!! To the moon and back- no like to the universe and back!!” Bokuto interrupts out of nowhere.

Hinata springs into the conversation too. Since you had been planning this party for awhile, the ginger flew all the way from Brazil to come to Atsumu’s 29th birthday party. To say Atsumu was surprised was an understatement. Your husband isn’t big on physical contact. He liked high fives, and really nothing more than that, but when he saw Hinata, he enveloped him in a bone crushing hug.

“Yeah! She’s not doomed!!” Hinata joins in.

“See, these guys get me!” You shake your head, trying not to laugh at your husband’s childish-ness. With all the attention on him and such a light atmosphere, he’s practically glowing. In the end, everything you’ve done was worth seeing your husband happy on his special day.

“Happy birthday, Tsumu.”

“Thank you, baby.” The blond squeezes you in a tight embrace and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. Sure everyone teases you for marrying such a wild man, but you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else besides his warm arms.

©𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites without my permission, thanks!

[fraux140]

König Headcanons

General, relationship, and NSFW. I hope you enjoy these! It's my first real post :)

General hcs

Had a cleft lip as a child and was part of the reason he was bullied. It was surgically repaired but there is still a scar

One of his parents is German and the other is Austrian which might explain why he has no Austrian dialect (lets pretend this is canon instead of activision just clumping all German speakers into one category lmao)

He has auburn hair but buzzes it so often that its hard to tell

LOVES Minecraft. He plays creative mode when he's trying to make masterpieces like city replicas or fantasy worlds, but loves the challenge of survival mode if he's playing with friends.

He was a total mama's boy as a kid. When his father tried to get him to 'man up' his mother was always there to protect him. Another reason he was bullied.

Chronic mansplainer but its unintentional. If you're discussing a topic he knows a lot about he will hijack the conversation and unload a bunch of info to you. He doesn't mean it maliciously.

Undiagnosed ADHD - explains why he has trouble staying still and was a bad candidate for being a sniper. But it isn't so bad that it is noticeable. He can mask it when he needs to.

Again with the ADHD thing. He hyperfixates on topics he finds interesting and even his job. Mission plan is memorised. Terrain? Memorised. Enemy info? Memorised. The ever-changing locations and nature of his job mean that he doesn't have to worry about succumbing to the boredom of monotony.

When he isn't deployed he is a beer drinker - particularly Stiegl Hell. A total beer snob as well. Any kind of American beer? Throw it away. Carling? Fosters? Sagres? Get that second rate crap away from him and prepare to be mansplained about how much better Austrian/German beer is than any other.

Has an apartment in the same neighbourhood as his parents' house so he can visit a lot when he's not deployed. His apartment is very basic and he stays there so his parents have their privacy. Their house is his home.

His mother is a seamstress and his father was a mechanic in the army. This man knows how to sew and how to keep his car healthy.

Unironically reposts alpha male quotes - not because he's a misogynist but because he genuinely believes he is the definition of an alpha male.

Teeny tiny bit of a superiority complex. Arrogant af. Stems from his size, strength, and skills. Finished Jagkdo selection second in his 'class'. It haunts him every day. Second place is the first to lose.

Is a genuinely unsettling guy. Not in a creepy way. He kind of just stands around and stares when he enters a place before deciding what to do. For example at the pub, he walks in and stares at the bar before deciding where to sit. Or if he sees somebody new, like somebody he thinks is particularly weird or someone attractive he will stare at them. It is a bit more intense than the typical 'German stare', and more off-putting because of his size.

Relationship hcs

If you're dating König, the first stages of your relationship will be spent trying to figure out how to be comfortable.

Like I said before, he is unsettling and might say something as such, coming across a bit too strong.

For example, if someone is annoying you at work he might offer to kill them. "I could hide the body no problem, schatz. Just ask." And he is very hard to read, so you can't tell if he's joking or not.

If his weirdness didn't scare you away and your relationship progresses, he unintentionally tries to manage you.

Packing a suitcase? You're doing it wrong. It's more efficient to fold the clothes like this to maximise space. Want to go for a walk? Not in those shoes. Function trumps fashion every time. Ordering at a foreign food restaurant? Let him do it for you, you're probably pronouncing it wrong. He's your passenger? You had time to pull out, liebling! Go for the overtake! Change lanes! Ffs schatzi, pull over and let him take the wheel.

Unintentionally condescending. You worked really hard on a new recipe? It's good, but he's had better at this restaurant. He recommends adding this and that...

You're complaining about how stressful your job is? Babe, you wouldn't know stress if it hit you in the face. Have YOU ever been shot at? Narrowly dodged an explosion? Being chased by enemies who are actively trying to kill you? Yeah, didn't think so...

Eventually it gets too much. You're on the verge of breaking up with him because he makes you feel like crap. He diminishes your achievements. Undermines your emotions. It's too much and being with him is making you hate yourself. And you don't deserve to feel this way.

After you tell him, he is mortified. He didn't think that his matter-of-fact way of speaking could be so mean and make you feel this way. He's so sorry, baby. Give him another chance? He'll show you how special you are to him!

After you forgive him and he agrees to change, life is much better. He gives more compliments, he listens more attentively and he tries to be more emotional instead of 'logical'. He comes to respect that you can feel a certain way about things happening in your life and doesn't have to compare it to himself.

He takes you hiking very often. So often that your legs are noticeably more toned. He buys you all of the expensive gear you need to hike in any terrain.

Sometimes sews little trinkets for you or embroiders something on your clothes - a skill he picked up from his seamstress mother.

When you tell him his alpha male quote sharing is cringe and makes him seem like an asshole, he begins to question how you see him. Don't you see how big and strong he is, baby?

When he finally gets it, he slowly starts to lose the façade. This front he puts up? It starts to come down. You want to be the big spoon? Go right ahead.

The new König loves to be doted on. Rub his belly. Run your hands through his hair/over his head if he's buzzed. Hug him. Cuddle with him on the couch. Tell him how big and strong he is - he eats it right up.

Loves working out with you. He likes showing you he's strong enough to protect you. Sit on his back while he doe push-ups. See? No problem. Look at how much weight is on this barbell! He can lift it no problem.

You told him that he can't live on ordering food from fancy restaurants every night. He needs to learn to cook. He's annoyed at first because he can afford it for both of you, but you make him learn how to cook. This time learning together in the kitchen brings you closer together. There is something beautiful about working so hard on a meal and enjoying the results together.

Sometimes he wants to surprise you when you come back from work with a new dish he'd invented. Wagyu steaks sautéed in lager and seasoned with rosemary and turmeric. It was disgusting. You couldn't find it within yourself to tell him.

NSFW hcs

When he was insecure and in his 'alpha male' stage, he was a total dom. Not that you didn't enjoy it.

Now that he's grown, he still loves fucking you in doggy or missionary or any position where he's in control. But now he'll let you ride him for as long as you want.

He LOVES laying back and watching you use his dick to get yourself off. Another reason he loves cowgirl is because he loves watching you struggle with the initial stretch of sinking onto his fat cock.

You tried to convince him to let you peg him once. He outright refused. Maybe he wasn't there yet.

Call him dirty all you want, he loves fucking you after you have worked out together. And you don't mind it either. Seeing him all hot and bothered and out of breath is a huge turn on for you.

Can be aggressive. He likes biting you but not to the point it draws blood.

Sends absolutely horrendous nudes when you're in public with no warning when he's deployed. You'll get a whatsapp notification and you open it to see a picture of his raging hard on while you're at work.

He gets creative with the angles. He tries different lighting. In a strange way you found it very romantic. His captions are atrocious though. 'He misses you', 'I wish I could shoot my sperms into you instead of bullets into my enemies', 'My cock is harder than my job'. They are honestly so fucking weird. But you have grown to love his weird little quips.

Likes roleplay. He likes to be a policeman while you're a petty thief. He's a burglar and he'll leave you alone if you give him something else.

Loves overpowering you. Sometimes when he's fresh home from deployment he will drive you two to the woods at night. He will give you a head start and then hunt you down like a predator. He was in the jagdkommando, darling, didn't you know that means 'Hunting commando'?

When he catches you, the adrenaline gets to the both of you and you fuck like wild animals. Biting, scratching, howling and begging. He always cums inside of you on nights like these, breeding you like a true animal

When you get home and after you've showered (he washes your back for you and kisses along the nape of your neck), he's showering you with kisses and cuddles while you settle into bed and watch something together on TV.

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hello!

I love your writing, so I wanted to request one where Alastor finds out that the reader is pregnant (it can be romantic I.e it’s his child, or it can be platonic, I.e the reader is his close friend.) I just thought it would be a cool idea!

For real… why do one when I can do both! Demisexual romantic Alastor in the buildinnggg~! Let’s see how Al handles this!

Alastor- Fresh Meat

Platonic

Well… this is very awkward. Alastor finding out that you’re pregnant

Alastor will buy you cute presents for your baby: clothing, toys, a pram. Anything he can, he may be uncomfortable by the fact you’re carrying a baby but he’d be a moron to just not help you

Alastor wonders what name you and your partner will give the baby and he gives you ideas whenever you two hang out

Alastor refuses to let you move too much. First week or the last month, he’ll get something like a trolley or a carriage to push you in so you can relax and not stress your body out

Alastor will fold into your food cravings. If you want Jambalaya, he’ll cook it whilst you’re over. Anything he can do to make you more comfortable, he actually cares about it and your baby’s comfort— he totally doesn’t just care for you to shut about wanting potato salad

Alastor lets you stay with him when you have an irrational moment with your partner and need somebody to vent to. He is right there and he’ll be your rock, he is your bestie after all

Alastor congratulations you and your partner for the baby and he gives you three presents regularly. Just like before you gave birth, he is doing it again and it’s his rewards for the baby coming out. He is happy for you!

Yes, Alastor attended the Gender Reveal party you and your partner threw and was basically the first person there and the last person to leave, and he was the one keeping everybody under control. Thankfully, Angel Dust didn’t shoot the fireworks that could have blown up the house or set the house on fire. He is protective over you, your partner and your upcoming baby

Alastor wants to meet the baby. Please, let him visit you first and don’t invite anybody else. Let him come over and meet the baby, he needs to. He wants to hold them and see what you have pushed out

Romantic

Alastor banged you one time… and now, you’re carrying his baby?! As much as he is so shocked and amazed by it, he is actually quite afraid of it and isn’t exactly ready to be a father

Alastor can’t stop himself from also folding into the fact he has a baby in your oven and he’ll just lay his head on your growing baby bump and kiss it, feeling the kicks of the embryo and just holding your swollen stomach with his heart swelling with pride

Alastor is guarding you so damn fiercely. You’re not going anywhere alone, no matter what stage of your pregnancy you’re in, you require proper protection and he will make sure you don’t even go down the street without him right next to you

Alastor loves cooking for you and he refuses to let anybody else feed you. He knows what you like and basically all of his food can actually go down with you. It’s wonderful

Alastor is already envisioning the baby boy or baby girl you’ll push out eventually. Will they have his deer features? Will they use voodoo when they grow up? He is so curious and when he sees the ultrasound pictures, he dies a second time

Alastor basically acts like your eager little servant. He’ll rub your shoulders if your back is sore, he’ll carry you around if you’re tired, he’ll bend over backwards to make sure you’re happy. The second you want to cry, he’ll kiss and cuddle you to calm you down

Alastor is quite good at handling your irrational and emotional states. He’ll just rock his baby mama and his baby until they fall asleep after either are having or about to have or had a temper tantrum, and like that. His loves are knocked out like a light

Alastor is freaked out when he sees you using Voodoo magic… it must be the baby! He is so amazed and he just watches it everytime you summon a black tentacle to pick up a water bottle left on the counter

Alastor is a man of control and controls himself very well… but the moment he is allowed into your hospital room and is given your and his baby by the Nurse, freshly after you have given birth to him/her. He cries. The Radio Demon openly cries and he cries with so much pride and joy at how cute the baby boy/baby girl is!

Alastor cannot put the baby down when he has him/her in his arms. He loves him/her so much and he loves you so much. He may have been afraid to be a dad and he is still afraid to be a dad but he can’t reject the life he and you produced and he is so in love with him/her already…

[kuroko-no-cuties]

GOM + Kagami Headcanons: Nicknames for you 💝

AKASHI ✂️

Elegant nicknames. Will call you things like

My love, darling, beloved, empress, my queen,, cherry blossom.

Man makes sure you feel as if you’re being treated like royalty because you are nothing less in his eyes.

“Good afternoon, my empress. How has your day been? My my, what’s with the red face? Don’t tell me your nicknames still get you flustered after all the times we’ve been together. Well I suppose I’ll just have to use them more often so you can get use to it..”

MIDORIMA 🍀

Can definitely see him going for more traditional nicknames

Dear, love, darling, sweetheart, my pet, when he’s feeling especially dominant help

Uses them rather sparingly because he knows how much you like them and he loves to tease you freaking tsundere and he also got flustered the first few times he said them to you bless him.

Takao once overheard him calling you darling while all three of you were out together. Midorima didn’t hear the end of it for a week. Every once in a while Takao will bring it up to see Midorima blush. It’s totally worth the bombastic side eye and occasional head smack he gets afterwards

“Going to spend the afternoon with your Darling, Shin-chan~ 😘”

“Shut your mouth, Takao!”

AOMINE 🧢

Ofc he gives you very flirty and sexy nicknames.

Babe, hottie, baby girl, sexy, kitty, mama, cutie, babydoll ok I’ll stop😮‍💨

Will call you them often either in public or in private he doesn’t care. But he’ll live for how flustered you get when he uses them especially if he uses them in front of his teammates.

Speaking of which he’ll make sure to lay it on thick if he sees one of them being a little too friendly with you

“Hey there babydoll~” a deep voice purrs into your ear as you’re in the middle of a conversation with Sakurai. You tilt your head up to see dark blue eyes boring hungrily into you. “I’m getting bored so, why don’t you meet me up on the roof so I can finally get some excitement?…” his suggestive tone immediately sends a fiery blush along your cheeks. You begin to quickly dismiss yourself from the brown headed boy in front of you only to find that you have no need.

Aomine wasn’t even trying to be subtle when he spoke with you, and the apologetic mushroom had already sped off while stammering a muddled apology for taking up too much of your time.

MURASAKIBARA 🍇

Doesn’t really bother too much with cutesy nicknames, but when he does decide to call you by a cute nickname it’s usually teasing you about your height because ofc.

Yeah unless your literally built like Shaq, he’s most likely gonna tower over you, even if you are taller than the average gal you’re still a squirt to him

His nicknames will include the following: chibi-chin, tiny, shortie, peanut, munchkin, little girl, baby-chin

“Mmm~ chibi-chin, give me some of your chips~” “No way you just ate a whole family bag you glutton!”“Hah? Peanut’s being greedy. How rude…~”

KUROKO🩵

Rarely ever uses nicknames. Even when you two become a couple he’ll still address you by your last name with the specific honorific.

You literally have to beg him to finally address you by your first name

But when he is a feeling a little flirty, he’ll address you by: a shorten version of your first name, dear, honey, and maybe if you really get his gears going: vanilla

He’s a sweet simple boy in everything he does.

“Here’s your milkshake Tetsu”~ you chirp happily as you slide beside him in the Maji Burger booth. “Thank you, Vanilla”

“Of course it’s vanilla, silly. I know you’re not fond of the other flavors.” You smile as you nudge him gently with your shoulder.

“Oh well, thank you, but I was calling you vanilla, Vanilla.”

“Oh… I see ☺️ Well your welcome, my fuzzy blueberry.” You gush as you ruffle his heart causing your Blueberry’s face to adopt the hue of a strawberry.

KISE✨

Every nickname in existence and then some

honey, baby, babe, sweetie, sweetheart, snookums, muffin, honey bunny, doll face, Snoopy, cutie

He’ll also make up some of the most ridiculous ones you’ve ever heard

shmoopy, cutie patootie, boo boo keys, shtunky, star eyes, shmooshy, peewee, foofoo , momo, kitten whiskers- you get the idea

A lot of times to two of you just battle to see who can come up with the stupidest nickname and make the other one laugh first

“How are you today, cutie?” “I’m fabulous, legally blonde bombshell!”

“Love that for you, kitten whiskers!” “Thank you very much, smoopy poo!”

“Would you like to walk to the convenience store with me, boo boo keys?” “Of course shmooshy-“

KASAMATSU: “WILL YOU TWO SHUT UP ALREADY?!”

KAGAMI❤️‍🔥

similar to aomine with the hot nicknames

mainly uses babe, baby, doll/dollface Rarely uses your actually name - 9/10 if he wants your attention he’ll uses either babe and baby

but occasionally you’ll get momma, hot stuff, cutie, missy, or little girl out of him - mainly when he’s trying to fluster you 🫣

The two of you were spending the afternoon at the basketball court. Kagami using this time to practice, while you chose to sit on the bench and observe your hot boyfriend work up a sweat.

While gawking at Kagami was certainly an enjoyably pass time, you decide this was also a good time to break out the new over ear headphones you had purchased that morning. Choosing your current favorite tune from your library, you get lost in your world of music.

Meanwhile Kagami had decided to call it a day after sinking one last free throw. He quickly went through his mental checklist and proudly found that he was able to go over all the things Riko told him to focus on.

His thoughts were soon halted when his stomach growled loudly, reminding him that the two of you still hadn’t decided on what to eat for dinner. He uses the bottom of his t-shirt to wipe the sweat from his face as he tilts his head in your direction to ask,

“What’re you in the mood to eat, babe?” After a few moments of silence, he raises an eyebrow and walks closer to you

“Babe?” He questions again. After closing a bit of the distance between the two of you, he sees why you’re leaving him on unanswered. You’re too busy dancing in your seat - eyes shut, head bopping - completely oblivious to the world. A short laugh leaves him as he makes the executive decision to have some fun with you while you are distracted. He quickly makes his way behind you and gently lifts your earphones off your head.

“Having a fun concert by yourself, doll?” He bites back a snort as you jump violently, almost it falling off your seat, as you whirl around to face him.

“Oh…ha..s-sorry..” you stutter, getting shy at your boyfriend’s intense gaze boring into you. Kagami chuckles and, now feeling cocky at the reaction he got from you, leans in closer to press a passionate kiss against your lips.

“You’re adorable mama…” he mutters against your mouth - the nickname sending a delicious shiver to trek through your spine. You can’t help but melt into the red-head’s passionate kiss.

Unfortunately, the moment was cut short when another loud growl emanated from his belly. He pulls back with an embarrassed groan as you giggle at the light blush that spreads across his cheeks. “Alright, fine.” he relents as he give a harsh pat to his toned abdomen.

“To be continued. Let’s go eat babe. I’m freaking starving,” he leans forward gives a short kiss to your lips, pulling back with the similar playful glint from earlier sparking in his fiery red eyes.

“And I can’t wait to have you for dessert”.

Bro I went so try hard on Kagami’s part idk what came over me 🫣kinda proofread kinda not I just wanted to get this posted

[c0ld0utside]

Hello there,I am a new follower and I'm just wondering if your comfortable to write a Yandere platonic royal family and a male y/n, only if you're comfortable i don't wanna pressure you

Imagine - Yandere Royal Family 

Hi! Yeah, that’s totally fine! 

Yandere Royal Family with a Male kid

Warnings: Overprotectiveness, coddling behavior, manipulation, familial hatred

You are the youngest son of the royal family, consisting of your Mother, Father, Older Sister, and Brother. You’re the baby, the one who can do no wrong, Mama's boy, the one who has to be protected at all costs. Your Older Brother doesn’t need to worry about fighting over the throne with you, and he’d never dream of it! You’re too pathetic and sweet! 

…Right?

Yandere Princess Sister who’s the first to notice your sudden…”everything” change over the years. You’re quieter, you don’t play as much and you’ve started to distance yourself. You’re rude to her. Rude. You hate playing dress up and being cooed at by her and her friends during teatime. You’re usually the first to finish dinner and you quickly excuse yourself and hide in your room. 

Yandere Prince Brother who’s the second to notice. He doesn’t interact with you much since he’s busy learning how to be king for when he eventually takes your father’s place, but he has made time to hang out with you when he can. No- you cannot spar with him. Mom and Dad don’t want you to hurt yourself anyway. Why don’t we read a story instead? No? You used to love it when he read you stories- where is this coming from? 

He feels worried when you storm out of the room. 

Yandere Empress Mother who’s the third to notice. You don’t join her for tea or walks in the garden. You don’t sit with her in her office, talking to her about what you did today. Sure, it was usually repetitive, the same old “I read a new book and saw a pretty bird from the window,” but she didn’t mind. You don’t tell her your wishes or troubles anymore. 

You want to learn how to sword fight? No, absolutely not, you don’t need to learn how to fight at all. You’re safe here, anyway. No, you can’t go out into town without your guards. I don’t care if your Sister only has one, she’s much older than you. What do you want to go into town for? I’ll place an order for you. You want to go outside without me, your Older Sister, or Your Older Brother? I’ll have your guards go with you, then. 

Yandere Empress Mother who simply wants the best for you and wants you to be safe. If you won’t come to her, she’ll come to you. She’s surprised when your answers are short. “Why haven’t you been spending time with me anymore?” “Is it true that you’re being rude to your siblings?” “Sword fighting? Again? No, you can’t. Your father and I don’t want you to get hurt. …Did you just tell me to get out?”

After you slam the door shut, she stands there in a stunned silence. Did that really just happen? She has to process for a long time.

She takes a deep breath before heading off to speak with your father.

With your Sister and Brother.

Yandere Emperor Father who does a double take at what he’s been told. Was this really you they were talking about? He immediately demands an audience with you. Unfortunately, he’s not gentle like your mother and siblings. He immediately asks you if what the rest of your family said is true, and like the good child you are, you admit to it. He can’t help but feel a little happy and proud about that- you coming clean. It goes away when it’s clear that you aren’t sorry. 

“Why have you been acting this way? Don’t give me that, you’re still a child. Stop talking back to me. Don’t argue with me. When did you become so disrespectful? No, you’re not a prisoner, that’s ridiculous! We all love you and care about you very much. You don’t understand how devastated we’d feel if you got hurt. We just want what’s best for you, you’re too young to understand. Didn’t I tell you to stop talking back to me?” 

Yandere Emperor Father who confines you to your room for a month. It’s a hard decision for him to make- he hates having to punish any of his children. Meals are brought to you and you’re allowed to leave to use the bathroom, but the servants aren’t allowed to speak with you. 

Only your family can. 

It’s mostly your siblings and your mother, who you turn away each time. Rarely does your father stop by, lecturing you and trying to get you to see reason. When you don’t, he sighs and adds another month to your punishment time. Unbeknownst to all of them, you have a plan. 

Yandere Royal Family who nearly died on the spot when you’re not in your room. Your older brother is the one to discover you’re missing. It went like this: He “found” your favorite childhood storybook in his room. He had read you the stories so many times he had them all memorized. He felt a bit guilty for hiding it all those years ago, seeing that sad expression on your little face. But he made it up to you by telling you a story before bed. You didn’t need the book anymore, after all. You need him. 

He thought it’d make you feel better. Imagine his horror when he sees the makeshift rope of the blanket and bedsheets in the open window. Imagine everyone else’s surprise when they hear him shouting frantically. When they see him running through the hallways screaming about how you’re gone.

Several search parties are sent out, your family counting the seconds and trying to stay calm. Their panic worsens when you’re missing for days. Where did you go?! Why did you run away?! Did you run away? Did someone take you? That can’t be possible, you don’t know anyone except your family. Because they’re all you need. 

When you’re found, you’re dragged back kicking and screaming. At first your family is worried, thinking you’re shouting because you’re injured. But no, it’s because you don’t want to be locked up again. Especially with them. They don’t notice some of the pitying looks you get, especially from a certain guard.

The guard who they didn’t know let you escape. 

They’re too relieved to be angry at you for long, and your punishment terms have changed.

You have to stay right by their side for the day. Yes, and night, too. Isn’t that fun, though? You can watch your brother swordfight, dress up with your sister (you look amazing, by the way), talk to your mother and father while they work, and have sleepovers…

You spent the day with your brother today. With a loving smile and a kiss to your temple, he wishes you goodnight and closes your eyes. 

Not noticing that you stayed up a bit longer, eyeing his sword on the rack.

-

Wuh-woh, looks like Reader’s getting other ideas on how to get out. This was interesting to write! Thank you all for the love so far! I’ll try to update once a day, I don’t really have a schedule for my posts.

[chuluoyi]

✎ mission: baby steps !

- gojo satoru x reader

the three times gojo tried to make his baby love him (and how he miserably fails)

genre: full crack, dad!gojo being a sore loser, your baby being mean (he only wants peace, really), and obviously, fluff !!

note: a little thing for father's day ehe <3 i know i said i'll work on smut in the polls next but uhhh, this comes first ok?! :') i just love the idea of gojo vs baby don't mind me *sobs* and all the scenario here come from the tiktok/reels you've sent me!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

There are many things that come with being a jujutsu sorcerer, and when you are Gojo Satoru, those things seem to be multiplying like bunnies.

This essentially means less time with his wife and baby. Look, he could finish missions fast, but when sent to other cities, even he couldn't abuse his teleportation powers all the time to return to Tokyo.

And so, as much as he hated it, he couldn't fault his baby boy for forgetting him.

"Look, it's papa," you rocked your son with a smile, consoling him as he wailed right after Satoru held him. "Don't cry, don't cry! Papa just got back from a long mission, he's not scary!"

"Is he scared of me?" Ouch. The thought prickled him. It somehow felt sourer than seeing Principal Gakuganji's face.

You hummed, seemingly (or comically?) deep in thought. "Hmm, in baby's point of view: a big, bad man suddenly picks him up, of course he's scared."

"I'm not a bad man!"

Okay, he wasn't having this. Satoru adored his baby to bits and he would want him to at least know it. It's settled then—he would be taking paid leave just to spend some time with his baby.

This would be his mission for the next three days!

DAY ONE

The day started off great. Baby Gojo was relatively calm, a bit fussy here and there but Satoru could definitely handle him.

"Look, a plane is coming!" he said playfully, moving the spoon in the air to attract his baby's attention. "Open your mouth wide!"

Baby blinked at him with the straightest face ever. His two blue orbs were the very same as his father, and yet they held disinterest so great that it was a wonder Satoru didn't notice.

He then playfully smooched baby's face, but he scrunched up, cringing in response.

And later, another achievement unlocked: Satoru successfully got his son to sleep for his afternoon nap!

"You're so cute, sigh." Satoru poked his baby's cheek lightly. "You look like me, but when you sleep, you totally look like your mama..."

He might not say it out loud, but one of his favorite sights lately was seeing you sleep next to your son. Both of you looked so precious and vulnerable, so alike, and it made him warm.

And whenever he looked at this little creation between you and him, he also got the urge to poke him so bad.

So he did. Only this time, he poked him a little too hard.

And how wrong that move was.

His son immediately cracked his eyes open, his lips quivered, and then his whole face scrunched up, followed by—

"WAAA!"

"Oof! Wait— I'm sorry!"

Long story short, he refused to be held in Satoru's arms, so you took over and your husband could only watch you with dissatisfaction.

"Won't you let me hold you?" he asked despondently, pulling up a pitiful face and batting his eyelashes. "I have the warmest hugs! Mama can vouch for that!"

"Satoru, he doesn't want you."

DAY ONE RESULT : FAILED

DAY TWO

Okay, his baby would love him today. Satoru was sure of it.

He had ordered this baby ride-on toy via home shopping and not only that, he would play with him!

"Here we goo~! Honk! Honk!" Satoru steered the little vehicle with his son at the backseat, hyping him up and even made a weird sound that was supposed to resemble a... train?

You watched them both, giggling. Your husband looked positively ridiculous as he was too big for the small vehicle, but still persisted in entertaining your clueless baby behind him. "Oh my, Satoru, you're trying way too hard."

"I have to!" he retorted, sending pout and a glare at the same time. "You can't hog him all the time, he's my son too!"

"Well, good luck~ as it happens, your spawn isn't easy to impress."

"Just so you wait—!" Satoru begrudgingly shot you a look, eaten up by your taunts, not noticing the wall in front of him. "By the end of today, he'll— whoaaa!"

He was about to crash into the said wall, and you were prepared to jump to save your baby first. But then, Satoru did the next best thing to stop it—jumping out of the ride-on, rolling onto the floor... and crashing into the bookshelf that some of the things fell. "Ow!"

"Are you okay!?" you immediately picked up your baby before checking him over. However, Satoru's eyes were transfixed on your shared munchkin.

"Meh heh~"

And you too when you heard it— your baby was wiggling, all smiles, seemingly amused by the sight of his papa lying there pitifully. Satoru was aghast.

"Y-you have no filial piety!"

DAY TWO RESULT : FAILED

DAY THREE

Today, Satoru had gotten inside the playpen and brought a bunch of toys, planning to entertain his son with all of them.

"C'mon, don't throw that!" he pursed his lips when his kid flung the lego away. "Don't you want to play together with me?"

No. As if saying that, the baby crawled away from him. He seemed to have a target in mind though.

"Oi, what are you doing?" Satoru was puzzled, but he was in for a surprise when the child rose slowly.

"Oh, you're pushing yourself up..." he stated, observing how the baby, still wobbly, clutched on the edge of his playpen for support.

A huge grin spread across his face then. "Aww, look at you!" he gushed with pride. "You can stand already! Ooh!"

And suddenly, the sight tugged at his heartstrings. This was the first time he had ever witnessed such a milestone. He wasn't here when he first started teething or crawling, and now that he was here when his son was standing... he wanted to see more of this.

"Now, can you take a step?" Satoru moved closer to him, and the kid turned to him with those clear blue eyes and a little frown, seemingly unsure. "Go! Go! Come to me!"

He didn't think he would actually try to walk. But he did as baby let go of the support, alas suddenly he slipped—

And fell flat on his face.

"—! Are you hurt?!" Satoru immediately plucked him off the floor, horrified, and pulled him close when the baby started to sniffle. Soon, he began to wail inconsolably.

"Oh no, I'm sorry, I'm sorry—!" he didn't even know why he was apologizing, but seeing his baby so frightened made his chest tighten. "Stop crying, oh wait—let's find mama!"

You were engrossed in your evening TV series when Satoru came barging to the living room with your poor son while being hysterical. "Help him!"

"What happened?!"

"He fell! He fell!"

Of course, your main concern was to comfort your baby, and so you reached out to take him from your husband's arms, only that...

"Huh...?" even Satoru was stunned when his son clutched onto his shirt, continuing to cry but refusing to let go, burying his little face into him.

Suddenly, he felt warm, he felt needed, and most of all, his desire to protect him was so overwhelming that he couldn't help but squeeze him closer.

You looked between the father and son, feeling giddy at the sight.

"He wants you," you finally smiled, patting baby's back. Satoru glanced between you and his precious pumpkin, seemingly taken aback as he blinked several times. When the fact sank in, he felt like a mush and pressed a kiss on his head.

The clown was convinced that his kid hates him and you are the savior. So, the fact that this little innocent being wanted him to comfort him... it made his heart flutter.

"Sorry, kid," he sighed into him, smushing his face to his little one's. "Don't cry, yeah? You're making me sad too."

"Satoru... are you getting glassy-eyed?"

"...am not!"

DAY THREE RESULT : DUBIOUS OUTCOME

"He's asleep..." you placed your baby between you and Satoru on the bed later that night, he was now so peaceful, out like a light.

Satoru turned to face you and the baby, looking at both of you with a yawn, but a soft smile lit his face when he saw how you pecked his son's cheek lightly.

These three days made him almost forget that curses still existed out there. Spending time with his son blurred that fine line between reality and a perfect daydream.

"He is still so little, but he screams so loud," he mused, poking the baby's cheek gently. You swatted his hand away, worried he might poke too hard again.

"You keep teasing him, that's why."

"—? He keeps playing me, is why!"

You two burst into quiet giggles then, and you couldn't help but reminiscing about the journey from when you first found out you were expecting, through the first ultrasound, and all the way to delivering your son.

And it seemed like Satoru had an inkling of what you were thinking when he suddenly blurted:

"Thank you, for everything you do," he whispered then, his eyes crinkled so softly at you.

You playfully huffed to hide your misty eyes, and in that moment, Satoru knew, that you too were glad for this life you two shared.

. . .

And that, in and of itself, was enough for him to thank all the stars for bringing him to meet you in that most beautiful spring of 2006.

Epilogue

It was morning, and baby was awoken by... sounds.

He looked to the side to find his mama there— your hand on his tummy to prevent him from rolling.

And then he turned to the other side to find his papa... who is perfectly still, but emanating this low sounds with each breath he took.

The longer he heard it, the more irritated your munchkin felt. So he rose, put his fists together, and came down on him—

Whack!

"—?!" Satoru groaned when something hit his face, and he opened his eyes only to see his son readying his punch again—

"W-why are you hitting me!" he was mortified. "H-help! Sweets, wake up! He’ll murder me!”

OVERALL MISSION RESULT : FAILED

[mrabubu]

How do you think the turtles from ROTMNT would deal with their feelings if they were in love with someone (be it human, mutant, Yokai, etc.)?

Oh man... Hmmm...

I really hope that wouldn't be a problem if I mostly ramble about Leo (I'M SORRY GUYS THE BLUE TURTLE LIVES IN MY MIND RENT FREE), and maybe a couple of words about the rest. I'll also be talking about both young and adult Leos, so, here we go.

I'll give short opinions on other turtles before Leo:

Donnie: Would be neglecting his feelings and emotions at first. Even though, in my opinion, he was established as the one prone to romance, I think when he'd actually feel anything towards anyone, he'd be really conflicted, because it's one thing to see this stuff on the TV and all, and another when it's in real life. But once he'll deal with all this mess in his head, he's a real gentleman.

With Raph and Mikey I'm going to refer to @souperwrites words, I hope they don't mind xd

"Mikey is confident and lovey dovey." And I totally agree with it. I feel like he would be the one who'd have the least problems with his feelings.

"Raph is shy but very genuine in his affection but also super nervous because of his size and the potential harm he could cause without meaning to." But honestly, I think my friend @daysofmoron could also give their opinion, since they love the red turtle. xd OKAY, NOW MY BOY LEO.

If start with young Leo, in the show he was always all "EWW!" whenever any sign of romantic love is shown, be it Big Mama and Splinter or Warren and Hypno (at least I remember them being all cuddly, and Leo's was just barfing at them on the background), but I imagine once his own heart goes "doki-doki" for Y/N (let it be Y/N or "you" for now), he's a total mess at first. Remember that episode when they met Jupiter Jim actor, and Leo couldn't even put the syllables together? Yeah, that's him at the start, especially if Y/N doesn't know about his feelings towards them. He'll be trying to impress Y/N but since his emotions are all over the place, he messes up more than usual, maybe even ending up hurting himself (like, he'd try to impress you with his skateboarding skills, but ends up eating concrete because he's too distracted).

And here I'm going to add a bit of my own ideas, because I've been thinking of some scenarios, like, if taking that previous idea with skateboarding, or, more easily, let's take the episode "The Longest Fight" when he fell, I imagine if on the contrary from others you'd actually show any genuine concern about if he's hurt, he'd be like "Oh..." and blushing, because usually his brothers would make fun if him, and here comes in you who doesn't laugh at his failure and worries if he needs help. I think after a moment like this he could begin to feel something.

And with Future Leo HO OHO I have an entire game reference on how I imagine him handling a romance.

First of all, I think as an adult he would be more confident with his feelings if he ever feels anything towards anyone, because, well, he's an adult now, and because when you at war you kinda already went through a lot to be all this blushing mess over feeling butterflies in your stomach.

So, as a reference, whenever I thought of him in a relationship, I though of a romance with Garrus from Mass Effect. I imagine Leo being kinda awkward, trying to make jokes at first that are much more sloppy than usual. Especially if talking about Garrus, I always think of that scene from Mass Effect 2, when he comes into Shepard's room before the final mission, trying to lighten up the mood, flirt and all, but ends up just being an awkward (but adorable) mess, and saying: "I've seen so many things have gone wrong... I want something to go right. Just once. Just..."

And it's just really easy for me to imagine Leo say that. And instead of touching scars you touch his prosthetic.

And also that dialogue with Liara after "The Lair of the Shadow Broker" DLC, when she asks if you fight for giving Garrus some peace, and you say that he's been hurt and deserves something better.

But once Leo's over all the awkwardness and let himself relax, he's just enjoying this new experience with you, having fun.

This scene with Garrus and Shepard trying the "first date" thing which ends up them dancing tango together. With all the teasing and all, I can easily imagine Leo would do something like that.

Honestly, I think that's it? There are more scenes in Mass Effect with Garrus and Shepard where I could easily imagine Leo would do something like that, but it's a lot. If you know, you know, If don't, well, I hope I was able to gave you an idea.

[heich0e]

do reader and sunaosa’s families know about their relationship? i ask bc my cousin came out as poly earlier this year and i had to call my 70 year old father before a birthday party and explain to him what polyamorous meant. fun conversation

mama miya knows, and she's accepting of it. samu didn't really hide it from her, but he did take some time to think about how he wanted to tell her. more than anything, what weighed on his mind was that after he told tsumu—and that happened pretty much immediately—he was effectively asking his brother to keep something from their ma, and that just didn't sit right with him.

but even though he took time to tell her, and was concerned about finding all the right words, it all came out rather plainly in the end. in the middle of an otherwise unremarkable conversation over a meal in the house she raised him in, osamu opened with the whole 'hey ma, just so you know i like girls and also i like boys', rounded it out with 'also i'm dating the slouchy kid you've been seein' me hang around with since i was a teenager', and finally brought it home with 'and i'm still crazy about the girl ya like so much, but just so you know she and rin are datin' each other too.'

it took a bit of processing on mama miya's part, and no one can blame her for that, but at no point was she unkind about it. she asked some questions, found no fault in her son's answers, and ultimately came to the conclusion pretty quickly that even if she doesn't totally understand something that doesn't make it wrong. she didn't love her son all these years just to give up on him for choosing the thing that makes him happy.

(years down the road, the twins joke that she threw a bigger fit about them dyeing their hair in their teens than she did about osamu coming out. she laughs with them.)

suna and his parents aren't very close.

his mom and dad divorced when he was in middle school, but they never really liked each other much to begin with, so it wasn't like it came as a shock. after the split, he went to live with his dad in an apartment a few towns over, while his sister went to live with their mom at their grandparents' house. suna doesn't talk much about this point in his life, and doesn't really remember it in any great detail, but he doesn't feel resentful or particularly weighed down by this part of his past.

rintarou moved into the inarizaki dorms in his mid-teens, got his first apartment after graduating while he did his brief stint as a uni student, and has pretty much been on his own since. as an adult, his relationship with his dad is pretty distant—even as a kid they weren't particularly close, since his father was never really a man of many words to begin with. he doesn't talk to his mom much at all, either—maybe a phone call if something notable comes up in the extended family, a card sent in the mail on a birthday, that kind of stuff. nothing terrible or horrible ever happened with either of them, and he has no hard feelings about it, his family just was never really much of a family to begin with.

the only one he ends up telling about you and samu is his little sister. she's the only member of his family he has much of a relationship with, having stayed in touch with her over the years, and properly reconnecting as they both got older and gained proper independence. she puts most of the pieces together herself over time—she sees pictures of you and samu both on his social media, and the ones up in his nagano apartment, she hears him talking to you on the phone every so often and notices how soft his voice is when he speaks to either of you—and then when she finally asks he doesn't deny it. she's accepting of it right away, and isn't all that fazed by it to be honest. she's known samu for ages, since he and rin have been friends all these years, and he's always treated her like a little sister anyway, so she takes no issue with it being "official" now. she likes you a lot, too (having met you a few times prior to your relationship being revealed, where you were introduced as osamu's girlfriend,) and begs rin to let her spend more time with you once everything is out in the open—and rintarou never says it, but that makes him really happy.