#her arm can detach into two arms

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you show your husband some affection, thinking you two were alone - only to be interrupted by your son.

tags. dad!toji fushiguro x wife!female reader. fluff, suggestive. mentions of toji developing / having a dad bod. & reader having a mom bod. reader gets called ‘princess, mama (by gumi)’. baby gumi waking up bcs of a nightmare. excuse me - not beta read bcs i was half asleep when writing this rt_t

“tooooji,” you smile as you enter the kitchen. you’ve put megumi to bed - finally - and have the chance to spend some one-on-one time with your dear husband. both of you deserve the rest after a hard day of work.

toji has been putting the dishes back in their designated spots whilst you were away. the dark-haired man turns his head to the side once he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist. a small grin tugs at his lips, “missed me, princess?”

you roll your eyes. even if years have passed since your marriage, toji has not stopped using that specific nickname for you. he loves calling you ‘princess’, because that’s what you’ll always be to him. in his eyes, at least.

“mhm,” you decide to indulge him. you bury your face into his broad back, feeling the muscles he’s worked so hard on obtaining. after megumi was born, toji did let himself go for a bit, but that is a good sign.

it means he’s content with his life - this peaceful life that he’s settled down for with no regrets. no more being reckless, no more battling for money; he’s now got a family to come back home to after all.

“is the little brat asleep?” toji asks while putting the last dish away. he’s visibly enjoying your warm hands that have slid under his shirt. your skin is so soft to the touch compared to his.

you chuckle and nod to his question. “gumi’s sleeping like a baby,” you rub your husband’s stomach gently, feeling the little bumps of his fading abs. you’re loving his new body - just as much as toji loves yours.

toji turns around to face you, desperately needing to return the favor. he can’t get enough of being with you. his rough hands grab your waist and bring you closer against his body, until your chests are nearly touching. he lowers his head to your neck, “that means i can show my wife how much i love her, yeah?”

you shiver at how toji’s voice turns from soft and gentle to sexual and husky. big hands find their place on your tummy, massaging the loose skin with its stretch marks. you can hear your husband’s breath hitch. “fuck,” toji swallows his spit, his fingers moving to grasp your hips.

toji loves how your hips got wider after you’ve given birth to your child. every change in your body, whether big or small, is completely welcomed by him. your body has blessed toji with a son he loves and he’ll forever be grateful for that fact. the least he can do is take his time to appreciate you.

“so beautiful,” toji sighs as he leaves soft pecks on your neck and throat. his fingers are working their way down to your thighs and ass—not leaving a single patch of skin untouched. his lips eventually find yours and you melt into his embrace.

it’s getting heated and the tension is palpable. toji’s about to lift you into his arms when you catch a glimpse of a short figure in the doorway. your eyes widen and you immediately detach your lips from your husband’s.

toji quickly catches on and sighs. he cocks his head to the left, the sight of his toddler standing at the doorway coming into view. “damn kid,” he whispers, nearly pouting because of the interruption. you playfully slap his bicep—a warning to fix his potty mouth in front of megumi.

“h-hey, gumi,” you say with an awkward giggle, walking towards the child. you fix your shirt in the meantime, straightening the material. you crouch down to megumi’s level and pat his head tenderly, “what happened? why are you out of bed?”

megumi stares up at you with teary eyes. he’s clenching onto his dog plushie, hugging the stuffed animal to his little body. you can easily guess that he’s scared—probably because of a nightmare. he’s been getting those more frequently.

though, instead of explaining himself, megumi searches for answers to something else. he points at his dad who’s leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. the toddler then looks back at you like he’s made some big discovery;

“mama papa kissing!”

you nearly choke on your spit. megumi’s a clever little boy and it shows through his advanced vocabulary. you’re surprised that he’s learnt what that meant already. you try to deny what your child said, “no, uhm, mama and papa were just hugging!”

toji snorts at your half assed excuse. he lazily walks over to you two, hands in his pockets. he bends forwards and looks megumi in the eyes with a huge smirk on his face. “yeah, we were. ‘n you totally ruined it,” he utters without any shame and menacingly sticks his tongue out at the little boy.

you hiss and lightly shove toji—he cannot take anything seriously. you’re trying your best to distract megumi’s attention from what he’s seen his parents do, to what his reason is for waking up.

“did you have a nightmare again?” you coo and pick your son up. he instantly snuggles up to you and presses his face against your chest in search of comfort. you smile and can conclude that your assumptions are right.

you pet megumi’s head whilst softly humming one of his favorite lullabies. toji watches your interaction with his son and his mood softens once more. he silently hugs you from behind—also wrapping an arm around megumi—turning it into a little family group hug.

“y’re all right, buddy,” toji mutters to megumi and the little boy sniffles in response, “mama ‘n papa ‘re right here.”

after a couple minutes, you carry megumi back to his room before putting him down in his bed. your husband stands next to you as you make sure your kid is tucked in properly.

megumi stares up at you with a sniff and you nearly melt at the adorable sight. you brush his bangs out of his eyes and kiss his forehead, wishing him a good night. the toddler nods and hugs his plushie to his chest again, still a bit shaken up from the nightmare. however, he’s doing a lot better after he got comforted by both his parents.

“sweet dreams, gumi,” you whisper and rub megumi’s cheeks with a fond smile on your lips. toji simply stares at you conversing with megumi—his face showing little to no emotion. though, from within, toji is absolutely in awe at your motherly personality. you’re the perfect mother.

megumi gets drowsy and tosses onto his side so he could be more comfortable. he struggles to open his eyes, but manages to look at toji. the little boy pouts and points another finger at his dad, this time drowsily warning him, “papa no kiss mama, ‘kay?”

that comment catches you off guard. you’re embarrassed by the fact that megumi still remembers what he’s seen in the kitchen. you try to clear your throat and explain yourself, but toji’s one step ahead of you. he silently mimics megumi’s words and rolls his eyes—

“yeah yeah, whatever. i won’t,” toji promises his son. the toddler clearly inherited your husband’s protectiveness. you chuckle at the playfulness between the two, enjoying the jokey banter the father-son duo have each time.

megumi huffs in victory and nods. he can sleep in peace now, knowing his dad won’t try anything funny with you. he closes his weary eyes and is asleep within just a few seconds.

you stretch your arms and sigh in content. you can’t help but chuckle once you notice how megumi’s fallen asleep with a tiny smile on his lips. you give the child one last forehead kiss before leaving the room in silence.

toji follows right behind you. now that his son is sound asleep, he doesn’t have to keep his promise. technically— he wasn’t planning to anyway.

“c’mere,” your husband mumbles and grabs your hand. he pulls you into a tight hug, hands instantly roaming your body which he admires so much. he plants his lips onto yours not a second later.

you smile into the kiss, finding it funny how toji couldn’t keep his (fake) promise for even one second. he would die if he actually couldn’t kiss you, and that isn’t even an exaggeration.

toji pulls back after a moment and smirks at you—those bedroom eyes of his very telling.

“so, where were we?”

[vicariousresearcher]

part 2

Johnny has been in a coma for 2 years 5 months, and 18 days. Who just barely survived long enough to get medical attention after Makarov. Who has become a part of the slim statistic of people who’ve survived a gunshot wound to the head. Whose brain scans show limited activity and such little chance of waking up.

But when his family gets asked if they’re ready to let him go his Ma shakes her head.

“God will take him when he’s ready.”

It’s not common that young guys get put in long-term care facilities like yours. Most of the time it’s older folks whose families can’t let them go and are using pensions to pay the rent costs.

At the start, his room is full of visitors. Big family. Very religious you’ve learned. A boy's bible is set alongside flowers.

Between the swathes of dark hair and bright blue eyes are a couple of other individuals. Quiet but polite.

“Teammates.” The dark-skinned man offers with a strained smile when you give him a curious look. “Military.”

It’s not long till his room quiets down. Visits becoming fewer. His family who was already a little detached from their son you concluded. Between the secretive work and deployments that kept him from home for months.

The team came by when they could though. Enough for you to learn their names and details about your resident.

You glean little things about him here and there. Find the sketchbook with his name on it left by the one named Simon. See the tattoo on his forearm obscured the thick curtain of arm hair. Listen politely to the questionable stories told by Gaz that always left Laswell's head shaking.

Quite the man Soap was is. No one’s given you an explanation on that nickname yet but the military guys that come in always call him by it.

You do what you can to keep him comfortable. Trimming his hair, changing out the gospel music for an audiobook every once in a while, talking to him whenever you’re in the room.

Well more so talking at him. Venting frustrations and complaints in hushed words so no one walking by hears you. Talking about your lazy coworkers, the overly loud upstairs neighbours in your apartment, and how you had to sit through another family dinner alone because your boyfriend made some excuse to not come again.

It’s easy to just talk when you’re in the room with him. Feels less like you’re going insane because you can reason that you’re talking for *his sake.* Not yours. Because what if he can hear you yknow?

……

You’ve just transferred him back over after changing his bed sheets, crouched and folding the linen under the mattress while you talk about your plans for this coming Christmas. How you’re excited for that one chocolate pop up shop that always comes to your mall-

You just about shit yourself when you stand back up and look to the head of the bed and see two slits of blue through his tan eyelids. Dark brown brows pinched in just slightly to create a crease between them.

……

A blinding white light accompanying a splitting headache was what he saw first. Eyelids sticky against his corneas. Weight of a thousand sins holding his muscles paralyzed and unable to flinch away.

Then the light flickered and he saw you.

Frizzy hair curling a fluorescent halo over your head. A swinging, unblinking eye glinting off of your chest.

Johnny who tells his weepy-eyed mother that it’s okay, he had the voice of an angel guiding him the whole time. That’s what brought him back.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ my life with you (that’s way over now)

synopsis. some people get drunk calls from their exes, maybe even flowers with hand written apologies. you get a knock on your front door with two random kids and a murder case

length. 3.0k words (once more it was supposed to be short)

contents. exes to lovers, ex boyfriend! suguru, gn! reader, slightly deviated from canon (he doesn’t kill the entire village + doesn’t defect), slightly a fix-it fic, blood, murder, child abuse + neglect (canon events with suguru and the twins), angst to slight fluff with hopeful ending (pretty much happy tbh), mentions of family + kids, suguru pretty much being a broke and depressed lil guy lollll

notes. idk what this is but it was written for me i just wanted to write it so here. take it and look away

right before you graduate, you and suguru break up. you don’t want to, but he insists it’s only fair—he can hardly be there for you the way you need him to be, he says. something’s changed in him, it has since that day last year. but still—you don’t want to break up.

so you argue, he stays firm, you cry, he doesn’t change his mind, you break up, he leaves, and the world momentarily collapses.

it’s the way things work, you suppose. they don’t quite always go the way you planned. you graduate not long after that, leaving him behind to throw yourself into work while you toe into the baby steps of adulthood. real adulthood—the jujutsu world has a way of thrusting you into that faster than normal, anyway.

by the time it’s late summer, you get your first apartment. it’s a rundown place—the bathroom tiles look dirty no matter how much you scrub, the walls haven’t been repainted in what seems like decades, and the thermostat never works properly to feel like what the temperature indicates.

but it’s yours—you leave jujutsu high fresh into the real world, paying your taxes and buying your groceries all while you exorcise curses for a living. barely an adult, barely getting by, barely alive as you get up each day and live.

and then suguru comes knocking on your door half past midnight.

“hey,” he says nonchalantly, like there’s nothing wrong with standing there—but you know him better than that. you can hear that detachment in his voice as he stares between your eyes, but not quite in them.

“you—” you start, staring at him incredulously before you decide to give up. there are no surprises with suguru, not anymore you suppose. you don’t really know him anymore. “suguru, it’s midnight,” you sigh—and that’s when you see them: two small children that can’t be much older than five.

bruises are clear as day on their arms, even while standing in the darkness outside. there’s also the slight swollen curve of their eyes, and you can’t help but notice how they’re practically skin and bone. children who have probably not yet even lived for five winters, and you almost wonder if they’ve been through more than you have in you’re entire lifetime.

suguru clears his throat before you can stare at them any longer.

“this is nanako,” he gestures at the blonde, “and this is mimiko.” the brunette one seems more shy, curls behind his leg further as her name is uttered.

you don’t know what to say, so you settle for smiling—you’re not sure if it comes out too genuine, but you try. it’s all you can offer, really.

“hello,” you hum for a moment. and then you turn back to suguru, “it’s midnight.”

“i know.”

“you should be at school grounds.”

“i know.”

“suguru,” you sigh, eyeing the blood stained on his cheek. you don’t like where this is heading. there’s a sick feeling twisting in your gut, bubbling, bubbling, bubbling.

bile. you can taste it. something’s not right.

“where did you find these kids?”

“on a mission,” he says simply, “village heads were keepin’ em locked in a cage like animals. can you believe it?”

again, that casual tone. it almost as easy as humming your favorite tune, as smooth as your skin on freshly washed sheets, as quiet as the first day of snow when the world is still. but something about it is hollow—something’s not right.

“why’d you bring them here? instead of school? shoko should look at them—”

“i told them they’d be safe here.”

they’d be safe anywhere, you think. as long as suguru’s there too. as long they’re under his watchful gaze, nothing could hope to beat down on their youth like it already has their whole lives. but you don’t say that—something tells you he won’t believe you.

maybe not right now.

you don’t look at him. you can’t. something’s not right, but there are children present. so you throw on your best smile and open the door wider, offering them to come in.

your apartment is small, just one bedroom and one bath. there’s hardly enough food for yourself for tonight, you still have to go grocery shopping this week. the missions were lined up back to back to back—but that’s just life as a sorcerer, you suppose. most days you hardly have the energy to eat more than a few apple slices when you return home anyway.

you wave your hand at your place dramatically as you say, “come on in, ladies. your humble abode awaits.”

they giggle slightly at that—it’s the first time suguru hears them laugh. you have that effect, he knew you would. it’s why he brings them here and not there. and…well, there’s a more complicated issue at hand. but that’s for later.

right now…well, for right now, he lets you guide them to the bathroom.

“you have money on you right?” you ask. he blinks, staring at you for a moment before slowly shaking his head.

“spent the last of it on cigarettes this morning.”

great, you think, before sighing and trudging over to grab your wallet as you press a few crisp bills of cash in his hands.

“here.”

“what’s this for?” he raises a brow.

“go buy them clothes,” you look at him like he’s stupid. he might be, in all honesty. just a little. “i’m not putting them back in…those once they’re all cleaned.”

“wha—i’ve never shopped for children before,” he gapes, “and i don’t know what size they are, or—”

“figure it out, suguru,” you say tiredly. it’s half past midnight—by now, you’d be passed out from your mission. he seems to take the hint. “and bring some snacks too. should be enough.”

“fine,” he grumbles—and then he’s walking out the door.

for a second, it feels familiar watching him leave. but then you decide not to dwell on it—there are much more important matters at hand.

you turn to the two girls before crouching in front of them with a gentle smile, “who’s ready for bubbles?”

——————

nanako and mimiko have never had a bubble bath before. you decide to let them taste the first tendrils of youth by splashing in your tiny bathtub while you find suguru for some much needed answers.

he sits on your couch, shirt wrinkled and hair falling loose and blood still staining his cheek as he hunches over his legs, elbows resting on his thighs as he thinks. and thinks. and thinks and thinks and thinks.

you wonder about what—what could be plaguing his mind? a lot you’re sure, but this isn’t suguru. not the one you know, at least.

the one you knew, the voice in your mind hisses—do you really even know him at all anymore?

“so,” you sit on the opposite side of the sofa, curling your legs under yourself as you eye him from the side, “care to explain?”

“i killed them,” he mutters. you go still. “the village heads. i did it without hesitating. that’s bad, right?”

“well fuck, suguru,” you breathe, restless, “that’s certainly not good.”

“i had a reason,” he argues, “all i needed was one.”

“there’s nothing that excuses murder—”

“oh, but we can excuse locking kids in cages, is that right? why? cause they’re sorcerers? they’re not—they’re children.”

“i didn’t say that,” you rub your forehead. this is all too much. too, too much.

being a sorcerer is too much. being in front of suguru is too much.

you finish your third year with a broken heart and graduate in spring—at one point you’d hoped graduating wouldn’t change anything between you and your friends, between you and the boy you loved. everything would be the same, even if you’d leave the place that held you all together—you’d still find a way back to each other, you liked to think. but then it all changes before you can even comprehend.

haibara is dead. nanami is hardly coping. gojo is everywhere but here. shoko is in high demand. suguru is hardly present even when he’s right in front of you. nothing is the same and you don’t think it ever will be. you lose the one thing you count on being yours forever, and now, he’s right here again. but not really here—not with you so much as near you.

suguru has killed people, sitting on your couch with you while the two children he finds are bathing happily in your bathtub.

there’s some irony in that—maybe in a perfect world, suguru and you would sit on the couch, much happier than right now, though. maybe you’d be tucked under his arm and curled into his side as you both chuckle at the happy squeals in the distance. maybe in a perfect world.

but this world is cruel. too cruel, in fact. it forces children to grow up too fast during some times and lets adults continue to be children during others. it’s sickening and all too much.

but this is the world you live in. there’s not much to change in that—not much you can change. maybe sitting on the couch with suguru is what you should be grateful for, whether it’s in this world or another.

“i came here because it’s safe,” he mumbles, quieter this time, “i don’t…i didn’t trust anywhere else.”

something tells you he’s not talking about the kids. you look at him for the first time that night—really look at him. you take in the lost weight, the sunken cheekbones and the bruised under eyes from the lack of sleep. the cracked lips from being chapped and the dry hair that’s lost its normal shine.

something’s not right—you won’t be able to mend it, but you think you can keep it from getting worse.

“it is safe here,” you murmur, nodding in assurance, “but you can’t…i can’t let you do that. not again.”

“what? kill people?” he snorts in dry amusement. it’s quiet for a bit—you open your mouth a few times like you want to say something, but nothing ever comes. he finally decides to fill the silence. “i don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong anymore. people shouldn’t kill. but some people shouldn’t live.”

“i think jujutsu is supposed to save people. not everyone will deserve it, but i suppose we wouldn’t be much better than them if we used it for anything other than that,” you whisper. he looks over at you at that, peers at you deep in thought as he contemplates your words.

“that’s funny,” he chuckles, “i used to think that too.”

“what changed?”

“everything.”

“then change it some more,” you shrug, “until you think it again.” he looks at you incredulously at that, eyeing you like you’re crazy.

“you’re an idiot,” he scoffs.

“says the killer,” you scoff back. you look at him this time, in the eyes and full of conviction, full of promises you couldn’t make before but fully intend to keep now. “don’t kill anyone else and i’ll help you. with those kids, i mean.”

“you want to co parent with me?” he chuckles.

co parent—the word makes your stomach twist. even after all this time, after all the hurt and pain, suguru is easy to imagine that with. he’s easy to imagine anything in the future with, really. he’s always been perfect like that, but you’re starting to realize there’s a lot more imperfections to him than you initially thought.

but it’s okay, you think. if you didn’t stop loving him before, you certainly don’t stop now. blood on his hands or not, he’s yours—even if he doesn’t want to be.

“don’t say it like that,” you murmur softly, hugging your arms around yourself, “please.”

you let yourself be vulnerable for just a moment—not because you want to, but because he needs to know. he needs to know how unfair he’s being and how patient you are with him despite it all. you deserve that much.

“sorry,” he mutters—he has the decency to look away and drop his smile.

“you don’t kill anyone, and i’ll look for a bigger place. deal?”

“for us…all?”

“yes. just until you figure it out, i’ll help you out with them. and then you’ll responsibly use your paycheck as a full time special grade sorcerer and maybe send a few checks my way to say thanks to my good will.”

he chuckles at that, shaking his head. “i’ll repay you,” he hums, tapping his foot. he does that when he’s nervous, you still remember—you could never forget anything about him. “i…i owe you, anyway.”

it’s quiet some more. you don’t know what to say, and quite frankly, you don’t want to say anything at all. but once more, he fills the silence for you after a while.

“what if…” he starts, “what if i want to co parent with you?”

“you dumped me,” you point out, unable to hide the bitterness any longer. it cracks from your tongue through your words like honey that went dry. “remember that? cause i sure remember.”

you’re an adult now, just barely, but an adult all the same. you should handle this the mature way—but you’re still young. still hurt. still blanketed in the fresh wave of nostalgia that leaves you aching with grief.

so you let yourself be bitter. suguru can handle that much after he left you to pick up your shattered pieces.

“i didn’t want to,” he says quietly. “i never wanted to.”

“but you did.”

“i didn’t…you didn’t deserve to see me unstable.”

“you’re not very stable right now either,” you pinch your nose tiredly, “you killed people, suguru. but somehow you can manage to have two kids now. but not me.”

“they need me,” he defends.

“i needed you too,” your voice cracks.

you did. you needed him—and you like to think he needed you too. maybe it wasn’t perfect, nothing ever is, especially not when you fight curses and see their ugliness every day. but that’s the best part of having each other—having something pretty amidst the hideousness.

he left you with more ugly than you knew what to do with. it’s unfair, you think for a moment, unfair that two girls who hardly know him at all have more of him than you ever did. he’d never abandon them—that much you know for sure.

you’ve laughed with him, held him and wiped his tears and kissed him under the moon until it became the sun. you’ve seen him with his hair down and his guard lowered. you’ve seen him in every way possible but in the end, he walked away.

they’ve seen him for less than a day and somehow, he’ll be there forever. there’s something unfair about that and you hate that you’re bitter with children but the world in cruel like that.

suguru slowly inches over—it’s cautious at first, and then he fills the gap all at once. you pretend you don’t feel the way your thighs touch.

“i need you too,” he admits, voice small. there’s a small, shaky crack that eats away at your heart, trying to gnaw into the raw part. the easy to reach part. the part you shouldn’t let him see anymore. “i…i always needed you. i’m sorry.”

“we were supposed to need each other,” you sniffle.

“we do,” he slowly slumps his head onto your shoulder. you let him stay there—don’t dare move a muscle in case he pulls away. “you’re the only thing that keeps me stable. i don’t think that’s fair.”

“needing someone isn’t unfair, suguru,” you scoff.

“okay,” he grabs your hand, squeezing. for the first time, he lets it all go. lets tears slowly slip from the corners of his eyes as he slumps into your side. he cries for riko. for kuroi. for satoru and the time he lost him for a moment. for their youth. for haibara. for not being enough even when he shouldn’t have had to be. somewhere amidst all that, your arms wrap around him and he’s pulled into your chest—that familiar feeling of your fingers threading into his hair makes the world start spinning again. “i need you,” he chokes.

“okay,” you say shakily, nodding slowly as you let yourself hope, “as long as you don’t stop this time.”

he buries his face into your chest, and you kiss the crown of his head.

cruelty is an unstoppable force. your love for suguru is an immovable object. neither is going anywhere, but perhaps they can coexist.

“satoru’s gonna have a massive headache when he explains this one to the higher ups,” you snort after a while.

he laughs into your shirt, real for the first time in a long time. “i’ll buy him something sweet. should make up for it,” he hums. and then he looks up, smiles innocently as he asks, “wanna lend me some cash? i’ll pay you back when i’m a responsible handler of money.”

“you’re hopeless,” you chuckle, “but at least you’re here.”

————— BONUS —————

“okay,” satoru starts, holding his hands up in surrender as he stands before the higher ups. damn old geezers, he thinks. “so he did kill a person or two…but—”

“there is no excuse,” a voice hisses.

“he didn’t mean it,” he huffs indignantly, “it was an accident. those can happen sometimes.”

“what—”

“he’s going through a phase, okay? let him work through it, he’ll be fine.”

“that’s not—”

“i’ll let him off the hook this time,” satoru grins, pushing his glasses up his nose as he shrugs, “he’s got a family now, y’know? kids and a spouse, and they’re looking for a home. can’t take that away from them.”

“he’s not even married—”

“it’ll happen eventually,” he insists, “so let’s all just calm down, yeah? great, thanks!”

“gojo—”

“see ya!”

he walks out, flashing an obnoxious peace sign at the higher ups as they hiss at him to return as he’s walking out. that takes care of that, he thinks, as long as suguru doesn’t make his life harder and kill more people, he can handle it—you did promise him kikufuku if he does.

satoru is babygirl defender no. 1 ain’t nobody doing it like my guy 🤞🏽 he would be loyal to you while you were in jail no doubts

[kaiijo]

NICKNAMES — MIYA ATSUMU

pairing: miya atsumu x gn! reader content: timeskip! atsumu, fluff, suggestive

atsumu’s always liked nicknames, ever since he was little. it’s evident in his calls for “‘samu” and “omi omi” and “bokkun.” he’s never once called suna by either his first or last name; it’s always been sunarin.

atsumu can’t remember the last time he called you by your actual government name. it’s always baby, sweetheart, babe. you always grin at him when he does, pecking his lips and wrapping your arms around him.

but you still call him atsumu. not love or honey or baby, not even ‘tsumu. it makes him huff and pout and he’s honestly on the verge of a tantrum when he thinks about it. he uses every pet name under the sun for you and yet, to you, he’s just plain old atsumu.

the two of you are sitting on your couch, you cuddled under his arm, watching some show on netflix that neither of you are really paying attention to. your phone buzzes and you lift it, snickering at a message one of your high school friends sent you, and when you open up your messages with her, atsumu blanches at the contact name.

“baby!” he whines, making your head snap towards him. he detaches himself from you and crosses his arms.

you raise an eyebrow. “everything okay, atsumu?”

he only frowns further and points accusingly at your phone. “so, ya can call yer friend ‘goddess shimizu’ but ya can’t even bother callin’ me ‘babe’?”

you blink owlishly at him. “what are you talking about?” you set your phone on the sidetable and fully turn your body to atsumu, who’s sinking further into the couch cushions.

“why do you call me atsumu?”

“because that’s your name?”

“no!” he says, “i mean… why don’t ya call me anythin’ else? like any nicknames? ya don’t even call me ‘tsumu and literally everyone does unless they’re mad at me.”

you sigh heavily, “you’re not serious.”

“it just… i—”

your face softens as atsumu struggles to find the right words, and you place a tender hand on his knee. “atsumu,” you say gently and he glances at you. “i use your name because i like your name. it’s you. it’s yours.” your hand moves under his chin and you tilt his head. “you’re atsumu. you’re my atsumu.”

the possessive tinge to your voice sends a jolt of electricity down his spine. “yeah?” he says, mouth stretching into a dazed smirk. “i’m yours, huh?”

you reply, “yep, all mine.” you cup his face with one hand, stroking his jaw with your thumb. “as long as you want to be.”

“think yer stuck with me for a while.”

you chuckle, “i think i can live with that.”

atsumu pulls you to straddle his lap, running his hands up and down your thighs. your own hands settle on his shoulders as he asks, “can ya do me a favor, though?”

“sure, what is it?”

he blushes a little and says, “call me somethin’ cute once in a while.”

“hmm, like this?” you hum, leaning forward, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “baby.”

atsumu feels his brain turn mushy as you dip your head, pressing a slow kiss to the skin of his neck just below his ear. “love,” you drawl out again and the mindless chatter of whatever show you two were watching fades into static. atsumu’s stops rubbing your thighs, gripping them tight instead.

“sweethe—” your purr is swallowed by atsumu’s mouth in a fiery kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth, salacious and solicitous. your fingers card through his hair and you grasp a few strands, tugging and relishing in atsumu’s moan.

seems like you’ll be calling him a lot more than atsumu from now on.

[s-4pphics]

a friend in need! (e.w.)

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SYNOPSIS: heartbreak aid during the apocalypse, you ask? 

WORD COUNT: 5k

WARNINGS: bff!ellie who’s sad, kinda perv oc who’s eager to fix that, remixed version of seattle!ellie, dina catching strays for no reason (i love her pls), wound care but erotic, SMUT AGELESS BLOGS/MINORS DNI, dubcon (nasty green), porn watching, mutual/guided masturbation, brief poochie eating, oc in denial ab her little crush, real girlhood <3, slight angst :(

A/N: the bubblegum apocalypse where no one dies or lies. #SCISSORING

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The gates of Jackson open, and relief rushes through your chest. 

Everyone is accounted for. Ellie’s accounted for. 

Weeks—or however the fuck long— of pent-up anxiety finally settles in your limbs as you sprint towards Shimmer while Jesse tends to Dina, greeting the hazel mount with coos and rustles through her fur. Baby needs a bath and a good brushing. 

Your eyes swiftly shift from her to your best friend, “Ellie, I’m so glad— “

“Can you help me down, please?” 

Creases bunch in your forehead at the strain in her tone. And then you’re met with the blood-soaked wrap that's enclosed around her jean-covered thigh. 

“Oh, shit… c’mere.” 

Ellie’s good leg swings over the saddle, and you hold her waist to ease her down into the muddy grass. Joel’s the first one to engulf her. They exchange words that you don’t catch before his reluctant arms drop to guide Shimmer back to the stocks, leaving you two alone. You can’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around her neck next, mindful of her leg. 

“I didn’t know what to think when y’all didn’t come back,” you whisper. 

When the two girls first made their departure to Seattle, the icy remains of winter had just begun to melt into the dirt beneath it, and that alone felt like ages ago. There’s mosquitoes and moths everywhere now, following wherever the sun beams. 

A strong arm wraps around your waist, and you instantly stiffen and detach from her, hands resting on her shoulders. 

Her gaze drops to the ground when you whisper, “What happened, Ellie? You okay?”

She breathes. “Peachy.” 

Your hands drop when she turns in the direction of her home, head jerking when she says, “I’m gonna shower.” 

“Dinners supposed to be really good tonight!” You exclaim with a broken smile when she takes her first hobble, “Eat with me? Consider it a celebration that you made it home safe.” 

Ellie seems to soften at your invitation, head bobbing in approval, and you smile. 

She holds her fist out to you, “See you in 20?” 

You bump your knuckles against hers with strained cheeks, “See you in 20.” 

One small, comforting smile from her, and she’s off, limping back home. 

“What’s up with them?” 

You flinch at the too close whisper from Jesse, and you shrug. “Maybe they broke up.” 

“Doubt it,” He snorts, “Dina told me it was brutal on the way back. The bastards were everywhere, she said. They’re probably still shook up.” 

“Damn… How’s she doing?” 

“Weird as hell. I think she’s sick or something,” Concern is melting off him, “She’s getting checked out now.”

“I’ll check on her later,” You face him, “Coming to dinner?” 

“Probably not. Gotta make sure Dee’s good.” He’s already walking off, trailing after his friend…? Ex? You never know what to call them. 

“See ya.” You wave awkwardly. 

Weird. 

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How do you cheer up a friend that just witnessed three dozen infected tear another small community to shreds? At least, according to Jesse. He was able to get more out of Ellie and Dina than you were, apparently. 

You don’t know how Ellie — or anyone — could experience such barbarous scenes as frequently as they do. You’ve been on patrol twice since you stumbled upon Jackson a few years back, and each venture leaves you less and less eager to see the world beyond its walls. You respect their bravery, not only for being able to dive head first into unknown territory with nothing but bullets and faith, but to also face those walking demons at every corner. 

Your closest friend is often excited to show you scavenged artifacts that she has collected, but… she’s barely spoken to you since you helped her off Shimmer. 

Her silence is uncommon, and therefore, frightening. 

“It’s been a while since we’ve had fish,” you scoff weakly, poking your carrots with your fork, “It’s good, huh?” 

Her focus shifts from the tablecloth to you. 

Silence. 

You drop your utensil, “Fuck, Ellie… dude, what happened out there? Jesse told me… that y'all got caught up— “

“Dina’s pregnant.” 

He didn’t tell you that.

Ellie’s whisper breezes past your ears so fast that you barely catch it. The canteen continues to bustle with hungry, ravaged patrons who returned from their second round of patrol. You assumed Ellie was one of them after her scattered return, but she hasn’t touched anything on her plate. Not even her carrots. Her favorite; A literal goddamn rabbit. 

No wonder she hasn’t eaten… Who could’ve with news like that? Especially considering the high she was riding before the couple left. 

“What.” 

Ellie’s head shakes with gall, and a disappointed grin plumps her cheeks. 

“Yup… Can’t wait to tell Maria.” 

Sharing the news of a new Jackson kiddo sounds like the last thing on her mind. Days before the two took off, she was squealing like a wild hyena in the wee hours of the night, gushing to you about the midnight explorations with her long-term crush. Her retellings of their first night together were vivid: filled with pent up tension and need and unfiltered lust. According to Ellie, they could’ve gotten married in a fortnight with the relationship they’d built over the years, and you believed her. Sadly. 

You were present, observant, during your teenage years. You were there when Cat kissed Ellie, when they broke up, when Ellie had recurring nightmares about Riley and was desperate for comfort from you, when Ellie fell for Dina… 

And now they’re in a pickle. A fat one. 

Hearing about Ellie’s relationship never went how you’d assume. You expected to be happy for your friend whenever she enthused about a topic that brought about such elation, but there was always something about the stories that gave you pause. Something that burned in the pit of your stomach and caused you to, frankly, fake congratulations. You’re unsure why, but hearing about Dina and Ellie’s relationship potentially being tarnished is calming that simmer inside you.

“Just when I thought…” She scoffs quietly. “Whatever. Fuck it.” 

You can’t resist and slip, “… Who’s the daddy?” And she hisses.

“Guess.” 

But you don’t have to... Fuck. 

Dina and Jesse’s relationship was… something. In adolescence, Ellie was either secretly celebrating their multitude of separations or crying to you about them getting back together. Their consistent streak of being on and off clearly got the best of them. There’s a ball of cells growing inside of your friend’s almost-girlfriend. 

“Shit… maybe it was… a misunderstanding? Doesn’t it take a couple weeks to… form in the womb or whatever?” 

You’re not the devil's advocate. Your lips clamp at Ellie’s stern glare.

“There’s no misunderstanding.” 

Your shoulders slump at the distance in her eyes. The indifference she’s exuding can’t disguise the hurt that she’s experiencing internally. Your heart aches for her, despite the excited jitters in your fingers.

“… Sorry, man.” 

“I don’t care.” 

Good, you impulsively want to say. You shove it down into the hardwood beneath your soles. Your brows furrow in annoyance, more so at yourself for not being remorseful. “Fuck off. Yes, you do, and that’s okay. It’s normal.” 

“Can we go?” 

Her request is sudden and cracked, and every inkling of pride deflates in your chest. Poor thing; How could you feel like this when she’s this scattered? Guilt replaces whatever dark fantasy you’ve conjured up in the past five minutes. 

You move to stand without objection. Fuck the carrots, “Yeah. Let’s roll— “

An instant lightbulb above your head… and it’s glowing green. Roll.

Roll!

Mischief shines in your chest and eyes when you glance around the packed space in search for, 

“TOMMY!” 

A flash of brown hair turns to meet your sprinting form. The peach he’s holding looks devine. 

“You seen ‘Gene anywhere?” 

Your grin widens at his disapproving stare.

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“Be careful with those, shit-for-brain! I’m not coming to save your ass like last time!” 

“Got it, boss!” You squeak with a polite smile, shoving the small baggie of rolled joints into your stuffed satchel. It vanishes the second Eugene slams his vault to his dirty ass man cave, “Fucking dicksucker.” You huff.

Ellie snickers from beside you. “C’mon. Be nice.” 

“No. He skimped on me last time. Toke hog.” 

The walk to your place is colder than usual, but it’s beautiful out. The moon shines from behind the dark clouds, illuminating the ivory that shields the incoming spring grass. Gorgeously cinematic; A scenery that gets the heart thumping. Aching. Yearning. 

You lead Ellie onto your porch and into your home. She removes her jacket and kicks off her boots, throwing her armor over the designated rack. Your satchel goes flying across the room until it clatters on your bed. Black tapes spill all over the mattress, and Ellie scolds you disapprovingly. 

“Again? Really?”

You smirk. Eugene’s always too blasted to punish your kleptocracy, “No one has a better porn collection than ‘Ge— “

Her jaw slacks, “Porn?! What the fuck, I thought those were the Jurassic Park— “

“They’re not…” Before pondering, “Although that’d be some crazy role play. RAAAWR— “

“You’re the fucking worst.” 

“C’mon! Look at these titles,” You skip to your bedside to snag a couple tapes, “Smoochie the Coochie… Banging my hot neighbor…” 

A boisterous laugh passes your lips, “Throbbin’ Hood: Prince of Beaves! Tell me that’s not fucking hilarious!” 

Ellie doesn’t laugh. Hasn’t laughed. Just simmers by the front door with red dusting her cheeks. How adorable! 

“Why’re you looking like that?” 

When her eyes travel over the creases between your brows and confused smile, your feet give an awkward stutter. This wasn’t the reaction you were expecting. At the very least, she should’ve cracked a smile by now. Even an insecure one. 

You peer down at the tapes in your hand and back up at her. Her posture shifted: arms wrapped protectively around her waist while she leaned on the balls of her feet, eyes inspecting the dim lights of your space. 

Another lightbulb. Not a green one. 

“Have you ever watched porn?” 

She shrugs with floundering shoulders. You chuckle. 

“It’s just for shits and giggles, Ellie. Don’t be so serious. The acting sucks and you needa good laugh.” 

You cradle the filled baggie like it holds a sacred orb and waltz towards the VCR. Your screen shifts from bright blue to the tape’s introduction screen. Naked men in speedos… Ellie plops down on the couch behind and mindlessly flicks a lighter. You reach into the baggie and toss her the fattest joint available before working the remote. 

A sigh releases… then another flicker… then a long, drawled out exhale. You grin. 

You, remote in hand, plop down next to her, “Is it good?”

“Better than last time, for sure.” You trade the remote for the joint, arm wrapped around your angled legs as you pull. Hits smooth… er. It still dries your throat. 

“Remind me to thank him.” 

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Two joints down. Two tapes completed. Three wide smiles from Ellie from the bad acting. The night’s a win in your book. 

She lazily lights another joint while you switch out the tapes. You purposely saved the best for last: apparently the only lesbian porno in that bastard’s whole cave. When’s the last time you’ve smoochied a coochie?

More importantly, when’s the last time Ellie has? Recently, you assume; She and Dina were too close to only be going on long walks in the woods. The more you smoke, the more your mind wanders where it shouldn’t. 

… Your friend is a lover. Always has been, despite her efforts of convincing you, herself — everyone — that she’s emotionally indifferent. Craves affection, both verbal and physical, like she’s deprived. She raves to you about her desires on a weekly basis, for fucks sake! Someone hug the poor girl! 

“Feeling better?” You squeak when you plant on the cushion. Ellie nods with a soft grin. 

“Thank you.” 

Your hands clap together and her body shakes from the recoil. “The night’s not over yet! I got a surprise for you! Happy Birthday!” 

“It’s not my birthday… I don’t know my birthday— “

Your smile is laced with grating sarcasm, “Wow, you really know how to kill the vibe! Just play along, goddamn!” 

You sigh when her expression flattens. 

“Ellie…”

“Yes?” 

Oh… That crackly tone did a little something. Cheering Clitorous. Alright. Okay. 

“I found a little something in ‘Gene’s special drawer— “

“Aren’t all his drawers special.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be shutting the fuck up.” 

Her red eyes widen, but she silences. 

“You know what feels really nice after a bad breakup?” 

Her middle finger digs into her dry eye, “Getting high and watching porn with the only other lesbian you know?” 

“Even better,” Your hand claps down on her jean-clad, uninjured thigh. “Getting high and watching lesbian porn with the only other lesbian you know… while getting head. A true fixer-upper.”

More silence, and your tummy gives a nervous tumble. Eugene’s bud gives you enough courage to make eye contact, and, given any other circumstance, you would’ve hollered laughter at how stunned Ellie looks, eyes nearly stretched beyond her lids, but you don’t. You press on when she denies you. 

“You’re lying.” 

“Am I?” Your thumb presses the large button in the middle and the screen displays two, three — six women… all sprawled out on white carpet while lewdness shines through their eyes… And not at all the romantic wives fingering each other next to the fireplace like you envisioned. Plus, the music sucks. Who the fuck plays the accordion while bumping cooters?

Your eyes circle around and… Oh, wow. A lot less tame than you were expecting… Are those chains and a paddle? 

What the fuck, Eugene. 

“Oh, shit.” 

Ellie’s either impressed or about to go on a judgmental rampage. You gauge her expression curiously. Her lashes keep fluttering like butterfly wings. You nearly coo audibly. She always does that when she’s excited! What a cutie! 

Ellie recites the description at the bottom of the screen, “When six girls go off into the woods for an early 4th of July getaway, conversations take a lustful… and explorative turn. Find out what happens during one late, hot evening after a game of… kiss and blow?” 

You snort, “Are you asking me?” 

“Well, yeah… The fuck is kiss and blow?” 

You shrug, “Find out.”

One click of the remote, and the footage begins… More giggles from Ellie, and something flutters in your chest. You’ll have to watch bad acting with her more often. 

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Six minutes into Smoochie the Coochie, and you still don’t know what kiss and blow is. And you don’t care to find out. 

High pitched moans and pleasured squeals that almost sound phony rings in your hazy skull as you stare up at your best friend from between her covered legs. 

This is the quietest she’s been all night: her eyes are locked on the screen behind you, completely entranced with flushed cheeks by what you assume is the sweatiest, raunchiest… scissoring, is what it’s called? On the screen. Maybe. You’re wired and can’t think straight and Ellie’s hot. 

“Are we really doing this right now?” 

She whispers when you caress her thigh over her pants, and you nod approvingly. Desperately, but she can’t tell. “Up to you.” 

You don’t expect a cold hand to come up and tenderly brush against your cheek. You shudder and nuzzle into it. Sober you would be so embarrassed at how you’re reacting to her affections. You’ve never been the needy one. 

“Can we…” 

You pout and burn with embarrassment, but start to pull back, “Stop?” 

“No, no…” Her eyes meet yours and your body locks. A bit nervous. “I dunno…” 

“Tell me.” 

“Later.” She whispers. 

You stare skeptically as she plays with your earlobe. “I promise I’m good. I want this. I’ll tell you later.” 

A pause before you sigh. “Okay. Up.” You pat her thigh and her hips rise. Her unbuttoned jeans are peeled down her legs, gently over her fresh bandage, and tossed beside you. Your body is miles ahead of your brain; before you realize, your lips smack all over her bruised thighs, peppering over the freshly bandaged scars and faded ones. She squirms where she sits, shaky breaths puffing from her lips. 

Your mouth travels higher, and an encouraging hand lands on the back of your head, massaging your scalp. 

“Tell me what’s happening.” You mumble against her, a blind finger pointing back at the screen. 

“I don’t — So much shit is going on. Like… from all directions.”  

You smile against her thigh, “Someone catch your attention?” 

“I…” 

But no explanation is needed. There’s treads of weakness in her growl. Go figure. 

“Lemme guess… She look like her?” 

If she catches the unwarranted agitation in your tone, she doesn’t mention it. Simply digs her nails into the back of your head. No forceful tugs at your hair, but a warning, and your teeth beam. 

“I dunno what the fuck you’re smiling for, but it’s gonna piss me off soon.”

There's a smidge of threat in her voice, so your kisses travel up. A pleasant distraction, given every small twitch of her legs. 

Not too long before you reach the hem of her underwear, and you trap it between your teeth before releasing it. Her tummy jolts when the fabric hits her skin, and you go heart-eyed. 

“Tell me who you’re looking at.” 

“T-The one that brought all that crazy shit to the party.” 

Of course. Handcuffs, she means. The large, wooden paddle, she means. A slow drag of your tongue advances up her v-line and her body wracks against her will. 

“Crazy in a bad way?” You purr against softness, and she exhales a laugh. “Not in this context, I guess.” 

“You like that kinda stuff?” 

“How the fuck would I know?” 

You snort before your eyes fall, trapped by the small patch of wetness that sticks to her panties. Glues the outline of her lips to the fabric. You’re seconds — inches away from going feral. 

Whatever patience you entered with has withered: and with determined hands, Ellie’s underwear gets yanked, pried down her legs and tossed behind you. Your eyes glisten with excitement when they meet the red pearl that twitches in anticipation, walls that leak when the warmth of your breath brushes over the cup of her. 

Her pussy’s perfect. A stunner, for sure. You and Cat were never close, but you’d hit her up to get Ellie tatted. Not even in a discreet place. It’d be somewhere where everyone — Dina — can see. On your forehead, for fucks sake—

S-Stop staring at me. 

It seemed like the moans behind you became louder. You nearly shove three fingers in Ellie’s mouth as punishment for interrupting the moment, but you choke on a breath. Mumble a slur of you’re cute, can’t help it in an attempt to ease her. 

And just when your tongue unravels over your bottom lip, right when Ellie’s taste is millimeters away, right when her breath hitches and her mouth drops open, the loudest crack, very reminiscent of bullets, rings across your small living room. Scares her, scares you enough to steal the attention from the art between her thighs. 

The sight on the screen is new, even for you. 

It’s not every day you see girls being slung across muscly laps and swatted on the ass with wooden tools with their hands bound behind them while they cry and sob and beg for their masters to hit them harder. You probably would’ve laughed at the theatrics if Ellie wasn’t here, as if you weren't about to go to town on her ten seconds ago. Both your breaths shudder and tremble as raunchy sounds of lips smacking and girls touching themselves and fingering each other split your ears in half. 

Your vision tunnels and shifts when a whimper from Ellie rattles through your chest and down your ribcage. She gasps like you’ve caught her doing something bad, but she doesn’t stop whatever she’s doing. Just blushes madly with her hand shoved between her squeezed legs while her eyes flicker between you and the screen. 

Time seems to whir and the room spins. The pace of your breath increases, slobbery wheezes syncing with Ellie’s when her legs cross over one another. 

Your muscles move you closer, hands planted on either side of her waist, back enlengthening until your eyes are level with hers. Her tongue barely dips to wet her bottom lip, eyes swiftly flickering down to your mouth.

A hand raises right when another crack of a paddle against skin ripples through your speakers, and before Ellie can flinch, your palm caresses her cheek, thumb exploring the divets in her face. Over the healed wounds and fiery specks that hypnotize. You don’t expect her to nuzzle into your touch… 

And you definitely don’t expect her arm to start moving, despite its enclosing. 

Her eyelids bat, and green pierces through your chest. Over your neck, your face, your shoulders as her bicep twitches. When her lips part around a gasp, you choke. 

Lemme see. 

Ellie curses under her breath, kisses your palm, and undoes the twining of her legs. Her fingers are gentle where they rest over her pussy, the bones in her hand flexing as her palm digs into her clit, folds smushed around the muscles of her thumb. 

That’s how you do it?

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, masking a smile as her head shakes. Your heart pinches. 

Show me how. 

Her head falls to the side as her cheeks sizzle. 

You first. 

You shudder, and your brain scolds. This wasn’t the plan. You were supposed to smoke, watch porn, eat pussy, and escort her home safely. 

Not the fucking plan.

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Ellie insisted that you restart Smoochie the Coochie before you undress. For ambiance, she’d said when you stood on two feet, watching as she removed her hoodie. For me? She’d whispered against your cheek, in only a tank top, when you finally positioned yourself on the cushion in front of her. Face to face, pussies almost touching, your knees to the ceiling. 

The volume of the footage has been turned down, but the acting… it’s fucking hilarious. You shouldn’t be smiling. You shouldn’t be giggling, but you are. 

Ellie moves loose strands of hair behind her ear, grin matching yours. 

“Hm?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Hm.”

Ellie, much to your shock, makes the first move. Again. 

Takes your wrist in her hand, brings your limp one up to her mouth to pepper kisses on your knuckles before pressing in between your open thighs. Your fingers are clumsy and your heart pounds against your ribcage, thighs jerking at the sticky contact of your own juices. Ellie's eyes between your legs like a hawk, leant comfortably against the pillows stacked behind her. 

Her attention encourages you. You balance on the hand that rests on the couch, grinning playfully around the fingers that sink into your mouth and glide on your tongue. Ellie shakes her head with a small smile before reaching for the lighter and last joint. Sticks the end of it between her lips, flicks the lighter twice, and ignites it. 

Every slow exhale of smoke gets rewarded with presses on your clit, your index and middle fingers tickling the sensitive area with learned precision. It pulsates under your fingertips whenever you lock eyes; her eyes are fervent with need, uncontrollably so, and it sends vibrations through your spine. 

Slower, Ellie whispers wetly when your touch becomes rushed. Too eager for her liking. She’s always hated when you rush things. Loathes your impatience. 

The moans from the film pick up again: shaky and cracked and high. They match yours when you apply just enough pressure on the spot right above your clit. Your walls constrict and slick gushes from, and Ellie curses.

When your fingers explore elsewhere, she sits up suddenly, her breath hitting your mouth when she mutters, Keep touching right there, with a tight hand around your wrist, trying to guide you back to the spot that makes your thighs quake.

I’m gonna cum if I do. There’s warning in your gasp.

Ellie puffs again before huffing a smoky breath, the scent infiltrating your senses. Your fingers almost sink inside, Wasn’t that the plan? 

Cum w-with me? 

Your voice is pleading, tone almost identical to when you would incessantly pester and follow Ellie around Jackson when you were younger. 

Ellie, watch a movie with me? 

Ellie, do a puzzle with me? 

Ellie, go on a walk with me?

Ellie! Ellie! Ellie! 

What used to be innocent invitations have swiftly shifted into something darker, and Ellie needs more. A shocked squeak leaves you when her free hand curls around the back of your neck to smash your lips together. Your hazy mind hadn’t registered Ellie’s fiery stares at your bruised lips, her head tilting in the opposite direction of yours, her nose brushing against yours whenever your fingers made a gooey noise. 

Your eyes flutter shut when her tongue sloppily glides over your bottom lip, moans quenchless where they hit Ellie’s tongue. She swallows them down until they jolt in her stomach, and shoves her hand between her thighs once more. 

Her fingers are drenched and so are yours; there’s nasty, slicked noises everywhere. From you, from Ellie, from the television that’s been forgotten by both of you. 

Ellie’s movements become desperate in a matter of seconds, no longer able to keep up the pace of your kiss. Your separated lips connect only by a thin line of saliva as Ellie gasps hit the skin of your cheek. 

Can’t wait to feel you on me. 

Your euphoria begs to peak at Ellie’s promise, your fingers massaging all the spots that send you to the stars at a desperate pace, trying to match Ellie’s. 

Cum with me, she growls like you did, Cum with me, cum with me, fuck —

Your friend’s name is a prayer on your tongue, shrouded in lust and a longing you’ve forced down to non-existence. You both succumb to pleasure in unison, the pulsing between your thighs synched with hers as she whimpers out. 

I wanna tie you up like that. Tie you up? Beat your ass raw and bloody? Whatever she's looking at, you want. You'll take without hassle. Anything for her. After one glance at the screen, 

Cumming for you, oh shit—

You wring out your high until there’s nothing left to give her, legs closing around your wrist at the aching sensitivity. Ellie’s head falls onto the arch of your knees, lathering your skin in spit-filled kisses, her soaked hand slowing between her legs. 

“Lay down.” 

“H-Hm?” 

“Lay down,” you croak. 

And she does, eyes filled with carnality. 

The porno is long forgotten when your head shoves between Ellie’s legs, the tape stuck on the starter screen while her cries of pleasure blend with the same bullshit accordion. 

You tongue her with fever, drink down all of her heartbreak that she endured while she was away from the source, mark yourself all over the terrain of her until she shatters with a cry of your name. Drenches your mouth, your tongue, your chin. Pushes you away with a cautious hand when you don’t stop. Flinches with sensitivity. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡

“Hold still.” 

You swipe the disinfecting wipe over Ellie’s wound, fresh blood leaking into the white cotton. She assembles new bandages where she sits above you, unraveling the sterile fabric for you to wrap her in.

“I’m trying!” She whines, “It still hurts.” 

“Shouldn’t have tried to ride my face— “

She flicks your forehead so hard, it thumps like a drum, and you wince before playfully biting her finger. 

She snickers and allows you to collect the last bits of blood with the last tarnished rag in your first-aid kit, snagging the bandages from her grasp. She holds down the new gauze and does as she’s told, lifting her thigh on your command as you bind her messy stitches. 

Why did you kiss them, though? 

It lasted 0.5 seconds. A quick, gentle smack meant to soothe, but your brain doesn’t see it that way. Red alarms glow in every crevice of your cerebrum, urging you to move away from your best friend. You stare at Ellie and Ellie stares back, expression no longer readable and easy-going, and you flinch away from her. 

Inviting her over for some innocent porn-watching is one thing… but kissing her without motive? Without the need to progress into something more? It stuns you more than her. You think.

“Sor — sorry — “

Ellie’s already palming at your shoulders, “It’s okay… it’s not a big deal— “

And it’s not. Why does her confirmation bloom a new ache in your chest? 

Your knees pop when you hurriedly stand, and Ellie follows, hands sliding down your arms to grab your hands. 

“Hey…”

You meet her eyes. 

“We’re good… okay? It’s nothing serious.” 

Don’t cry. You agree with a grin. One you pray she doesn’t notice cracks in its corners. She says nothing. Just caresses your cheek in unsaid thanks. Thanks for tonight. Thanks for the distraction. 

Ellie returns a smile before gathering her clothes off the floor. She dresses in silence as you watch with a sorrowful gleam. Is it selfish to ask her to stay? Would it be too much? Should you? Will you?

It’s when she’s tying her boots up that you say something. 

“I can walk you back!” 

“I got it. I’m not going straight home.” 

Ellie’s denial is calm. Gentle. Not abrasive in the slightest, but your hands quiver and heart swells, bound to burst with dejection. Where is she going? The town is sleeping. 

She leaves before you can ask with a promise of seeing you in the morning for breakfast. Nothing unfamiliar, nothing changed. 

Tears rock you to sleep, and you’re not sure why. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡

[redcherrykook]

ִֶָ── ࣪ ִֶָ🦇་༘࿐ Kinktober D12- mirror sex

────☠︎︎────

content: just cowgirl, lil finger play, praise, he's so whipped for her, rips her stockings oop, dirty talk

note from cherry: blonde jk yes.

────☠︎︎────

it wasn´t supposed to have any hidden subtext when you went to pick up your idol boyfriend. Not when you wore that cute black skirt and his big, comfy hoodie, failing to put on any panties underneath your black stockings

It was definitely innocent when you arrived in the empty practice room, his sweaty body standing tall, huffing with exhaustion. Oh so innocent when you pressed his soaked shirt up and watched his face relax in pleasure

Jungkook had enough, turning your body to face the full length, mirror wall. his hands sneak up under your- well, his hoodie, caressing your waist, his head leaning down to smell that sweet scent relishing off your neck,

"see that baby? see how pretty you are" he whispers, breath fanning against your delicate skin, leaving a trace of his aroused feelings laced into his deep voice,

hands exploring further up, cupping your chest under the hoodie before dragging down again, finding a firm hold on the hemline of the hoodie

"wanna take this off, wanna see your perfect body, you need to see too hm? see how fucking pretty you are"

you moan softly, eyes falling down to where he lifts off the thick hoodie, exposing your black bra and the cute mini skirt, matching the thin stockings that decorate your legs.

"Kook i can´t look" you hum, licking your lips, his eyes fall to yours in the mirror, you can feel his hands sneak under your skirt, caressing your inner thighs,

"oh no baby you need to, you have to, come on sweets"

a loud sound errupts into the practice room,

"kook what are you-"

"quiet baby, eyes on me" his deep, alluring voice rings in your ears, the cold air hits your inner thighs, jungkook´s large hands feel your skin, exposed by the hole ripped through your black stockings

you finally manage to look, glancing down at where his muscular arms lead to, hands barely covered by the flimsy material

"good girl, look how nice your legs look in this pathetic skirt" creeping up further inside the ripped stockings, two of his tattooed fingers press to your wet core, putting pressure on your clit that´s begging for stimulation

the pleasure rushes through your body, evident on your face, lips parting,

jungkook´s own lips trail down your neck, kissing it with care and need, his tongue drawing out on your smooth skin

"feels good sweets? Look at how good you are" his voice stings on your skin, fingers sneaking between your wet folds,

"so good baby, please kook, i need you" a tense look is shared through the mirror, the desperation practically painted across your face and eyes when you look back up to meet him, gaze burning with desire

he smiles, detaching from your neck to look at your soft face in the mirror for longer, properly now, scanning from the curve of your slight smile. your body pressed to his, satisfied once noticing how you cut the tension trying to keep your needy, half shut eyes focused on where his hands meet your body

"anything for you, let me take care of you pretty"

his shirt lifts from his toned body, revealing his skin to you, your hands immediately attach to it, tracing the hard lines of his abdomen, wandering up to his chest

he takes your thighs in his hands, sitting down on the cold, empty floor with you on his lap

"mhmm, fuck sweets" he groans, eyes darting back to mirror where your bare back is reflecting, the tiny fabric now bunching up, showing your body off to him. His hard bulge makes contact with your cunt, coating the fabric witha trail of your slick

you look down to where your bodies collide, hands dancing to pull down the only two barriers seprating you from him, from feeling your warmth wrapped around his cock,

"good girl, let me feel you baby" his hands grip your waist, watching you sink down onto his hard length, suffocating it with how much he´s stretching you out

soft, needy moans tumble out from your parted mouth, eyes shut as you begin bouncing up and down on his hips, taking each inch deeper, harder as you clamp back down, his groans fill up your ears, motivating you to keep eagerly taking his cock

"god kook fuck, you feel so good" whining out, your hand stablize on his glazed chest, supporting your self on him,

jungkook can´t look away from how the black skirt moves up and down by your ass, how he can catch glances of his cock disappearing into you, wet with your arousal, the sheer black fabric ripped just enough for him to enter you

"you look so good, you have no idea baby, fuck, god i need you to see" his hands slide down to your desperate hips, stopping you from moving more, earning a high pitched whimper that makes him melt,

"ssh i know pretty girl, but you need to see how fucking gorgeous you are when you take my cock", he lifts you off him, his restless lips smashing to yours with rough need, teeth clanking, his tongue forcing between your swollen, desperate ones,

both of you drown out the noises of pleasure beneath the heated kiss, leaving no room to talk, to utter any further sound that explains how much you need to feel each other,

the kiss is enough, enough to explain to him that you feel empty, that you need him to fill your gummy walls with his evidently throbbing cock, leaking onto his skin with precum

you wrap your own wet muscle around his, letting him explore your mouth before leaving both of you to catch your breath, saliva connecting your mouths

"on your pretty knees baby, g´nna make you look at that doll face when i fuck you"

[luvvixu]

mind over matter pt. 1

synopsis: witness how your marriage was bound to fall apart with you on the front seat and your husband gojo had missed the show—now, he gotta figure out the story on his own.

tags: arrange marriage au, angst, husband!gojo, mean!gojo, mention of blood, miscarriage, strong languages, some unsettling scenarios, emotional trauma, read at your own risk

a/n: y'all, im back after ghosting this page for way too lonh cuz im on my process of taking psychology. yep! this random bitch is up for being a psychologist despite her mental health place amidst the fluctuating status. and you know what's crazy? my sanity is slowly decomposing! all thanks to that one mf and one chapter in which im not going to name about (gege and jjk chapter 261)

previous / masterlist / next

it all started when he started caring for you.

after being inside an arranged marriage for like five years, satoru was confident with himself that he doesn't need a wife to console his woes as he is perfectly capable all by himself.

to say the least, the start of your marriage was a definition of an absolute disaster. clearly, you and satoru were like a magnet in the same pole, it can never collide despite how many efforts you push on both magnets.

from fights, misunderstanding, up to almost divorce after you caught him kissing another girl when you decided to give him a visit during his mission.

you were hurt, yes. but you would always tell yourself that neither of you want this marriage, so being hurt when there's no even love is called invalid. yet, you can't still help it but to feel somewhat jealous because he was supposed to be your husband—but oh well.

your family begged you to stay as it was for the peace of mind and safety of your clan. you snorted sarcastically as you wondered if they ever cared for your personal peace of mind and safety also.

nevertheless, you still stay inside this loveless marriage and maintain the gojo surname. you forgive him even though he's not explaining himself nor asking for your forgiveness.

as for satoru, he's aware that he's being a dick to you. his reason is that this marriage was his least priority as it was a hindrance for him. so basically and truth may hurt, he thinks you're only a hindrance and a distraction from the higher ups.

there were times where he would bury himself with work so he doesn't have to go to his original home and breathe the same air as you.

there were also times where he spent almost two months without seeing you or even communicating with you. it was like you didn't exist in his life nor he doesn't have a wife!

although, he is not that cruel to the point that he would slam the fact in your face. no, he's just leaving his presence until you feel it yourself that he doesn't want you.

his shenanigans would continue for almost a year until that night occurred.

that night when it was your wedding anniversary and he came home very late after fighting some annoying curse. he took a swearing underneath his breath when the stinky smell of curse blood hit his nose.

scrunching up as he was about to proceed to his own room (despite being married, you two sleep in a separate room) to clean up when he saw you up by the garden. you are currently watching how your little seedlings grow into beautiful flowers swaying along the air with a calm look on your face.

your husband broke the silence by asking you what are you doing this late. in which you replied that you couldn't sleep as you slowly looked at him.

satoru watched your face, it did not even flinch with any kind of emotion—nothing, just nothing. you're basically acting like a robot to him, and he hates it.

"i'll prepare a warm bath for you." you mumbled, standing on your feet and was about to leave when he grabbed your arm.

"i heard what happened earlier." satoru said slowly, as if he's being careful on his words which was very out of character for him.

"really? great." detaching from his hold, you left him no chance and instantly left.

"y/n." the man followed you until both of you reached the bathroom. you paid him no attention and just did the usual things you do, prepare him a bath.

"talk to me, please." his tone becomes soft, pleading. turning the water on, you refused to turn around, you refused to make physical contact with him, you refused to let him see the tears brimming in your eyes.

"go on. say what you want to say. i'm listening." you mentally curse yourself for almost stuttering. satoru looked at you, eyes finally unveiling an emotion. he aches to hold you for some reason but to think that he doesn't want to upset you even further, he stops. all he can do is watch you serve him.

"do you want to keep it?" he asked quietly, his ocean blue eyes dropping on your stomach. getting uncomfortable, you tried to hide it.

splash, splash, splash, you did not answer him.

"i said, do you want to keep it?" satoru asked once again. this time, his voice was a bit louder than before.

"i don't know. do you want to?" you asked him back the question, quietly.

your husband went quiet. having a child is not part of your plan but you have to because that's your purpose of marrying him, to bear an heir. now, satoru was asking you nicely if you want to keep it when in the first place, it should happen this way.

"how many months?"

"two."

"and you didn't tell me?"

"do you want to know?"

"of course i want to know. that's literally my child in there." he pointed to your belly with a slight frustration on his face.

you did not say anything back, just continuing your duties as his wife—wife on papers. satoru was growing upset, tired, even angry at you. where was the talkative and fierce look that you have? where's the harshness in your voice? why do you look so vulnerable now?

"you can take a bath now. i'll be downstairs to prepare you dinner."

"y/n, wait—"

*slam*

before satoru could even stop you, you already left, leaving him in all silence. the husband heaves a deep sigh within him as he recollects the events prior to this day. he remembers how he acted when he discovered to ijichi that you went to the hospital and went back home with a pregnancy result in your pocket.

satoru remembers almost getting killed by the special curse when the news caught him totally off guard. you two only have intercourse when both are drunk after coming home from shoko's birthday and that's it. you also told him that you were on pills so he's relieved. but how?

what if—

no, no, no. you wouldn't. you wouldn't do that to him. you are his little loyal wife and even though both of you aren't on good terms, he trusted your loyalty…or was he? were you?

everything was so messed up that he couldn't think of anything even after taking a shower and now he's on his way downstairs to eat dinner. once he was in the kitchen, he saw you almost absentmindedly cutting the vegetables.

satoru took a seat, quietly. he was watching you as your back was facing him. his six eyes weren't dumb to notice how much weight you are slowly losing. unconsciously, satoru was clutching his fists tightly.

"i bought you your favorite milk tea. it's in the fridge, you can drink it later." your voice seemingly dropped him from his daze. satoru looked at you once more, only to find out that you're still not facing him back.

"o…okay, thanks."

minutes later, you place a plate of curry in front of him. satoru noticed that there's only one plate on the table, which was his.

"where's your meal?"

"i already ate." oh right, it was literally midnight now. you should be asleep by now, yet here you are, serving your husband. also, why does it seem like satoru was hoping to eat dinner with you? it is unusual, to be honest.

for your five years of marriage, you two would only eat together for formal matters. but with a simple domestic setting like this, there's no way a peace would occur if the two of you shared a table and a meal.

while he is eating, satoru watches you grab the said milk tea from the fridge and place it in front of him. "just leave the dishes on the sink. i'll wash them later." and with that, you left the dining room.

the food was great, it was very delicious. satoru can't deny that you're great at cooking, and you really have a specialty when it comes to curry like this. but why does this meal taste bitter? perhaps, was it because of the taste of his conscience? he doesn't know.

the six eyes ate in silence. he was planning to talk to you later about everything. but anyway, satoru has been eyeing the milk tea you bought for him. now this wasn't unusual. everytime you would go out, you would always buy him some of his favorites, mostly food.

like there's a time where you bought him his favorite mochi, crepe cakes, churros, ice creams—basically every dessert or food stalls you happened to pass by. it warms his heart, though. there's also a time where he anticipated what kind of sweet delicacy you would give him next.

anyway, satoru finished eating his meal. he was drinking the milk tea you gave to him while searching for you. he saw you sitting on the same spot when he first saw you this evening, by the patio of your garden. silently, satoru took a seat beside you with a mindful distance between you two.

"can we talk?" he started. in which you reply with a soft hum. satoru finds himself gulping, he sets aside his drink first before mimicking your posture—wrapping his arms on his folded legs.

"so um, since there's a baby now…i'd like to discuss this matter with you, properly. i was thinking about…moving you in one of the jujustu high's dorms." satoru nibbles the straw of the sugary drink, absentmindedly.

"it's for safety measures, since i'm not always at home and the risk will be doubled by now. but if you're inside the campus, a lot of sorcerers would be able to protect you." he added.

"okay." you did not even question him or even argue with him, you just simply agree without a second thought.

the man could feel himself gulping, the bitterness increasing despite the sweet liquid he was drinking. he's starting to get uncomfortable the way you are currently acting.

also, come to think of it, you agreed to temporarily live in jujustu high—does that mean you are keeping the baby? satoru couldn't help but to finally ask you.

"d…does that mean—"

"the baby has nothing to do with us. i'm not that cruel to take its life." before satoru could beat you, you already beat him.

"when will i be moving out?"

satoru gulped the growing rare anxiousness down to his throat. "probably next week. give me some time to deliver this news to the higher ups." you just mumbled an okay as your response.

"y/n, are you really sure about this?" the man couldn't really pinpoint your decision. although you made it explicit, he still couldn't comprehend you.

"i'm okay with anything. it's just you who didn't. also, if you are planning to ask me about keeping the child once again, go ask yourself instead. your decision is my decision." you replied.

satoru made a mental note that your voice sounds more tired than before. it kinda ignited something that he was not used to feeling before as literally a man-god himself who's full of pride.

"i'll be resting now. have a good night." he did not stop you, in fact, he thinks it's for the better. satoru could only follow you by his gaze as you enter your own room.

yes, your own room. the two of you did not share the same room. you two couldn't even bear to eat together, what more on sleeping together. this is not what satoru meant when he asked you to talk. but oh well, guess he should also call this a night. with that, satoru retreated to his own room and slept.

fast forward, you moved to jujutsu high and started teaching as a history teacher in a world full of related curses(suggested by satoru) since you're an alumni at this school like your husband. you like that idea too since it's a great way to distract yourself from everything.

currently, you are watching your third year students train themselves along with the second years and the first years. it was quite a good sight since all of them have a nice and strong potential as a sorcerer.

suddenly, one of your husband's students came to you with a big smile on his face. that must be yuuji, the vessel for the infamous king of curses. you always adored him, he's a good kid. but you couldn't help but to be saddened by the fact that he was literally carrying a big burden over his life.

"y/n sensei, good afternoon!" he waved at you before taking a seat nearby you. behind him, you saw his two other friends—your husband's students too.

"oi, you're being too loud." megumi scolded his friend. he was worried that yuuji's loudness was too much for your situation, your pregnancy.

"it's fine, megumi." you just chuckled. "i have some extra chocolate bars here, you three can have it." the trio thanked you happily, while you just smiled in return.

"by the way, we have a question for you, y/n sensei." yuuji said, munching on the chocolate. you asked him to shoot the question but he suddenly hesitated, looking at his two friends for support.

when he received the support he needed, he took a deep breath. "y/n sensei, we were wondering about your husband a-and…" yuuji trailed off. you already know what he meant, so you didn't wait for him any further.

"oh, i suppose you are curious because you haven't seen my husband even though i technically lived here?" the smile still lingers on your face as you watch them nod their heads.

there's something that you forgot to mention to them, they don't know that their teacher is your husband and the father of your child. you were prepared for a situation like this, though.

megumi on the other hand, could've known this beforehand since satoru took care of him during his childhood. then your marriage came through and your husband was already taking care of megumi, but it was kept a secret to everyone—including him.

stroking your six months belly, a recent hobby of yours when you want to seek some comfort. "he was a busy man. most of his job requires being out of town. but he never fails to shower me with love by making sure that we still communicate despite his busy schedule."

"lately, we've barely talked. yet, he promised me that he will finish all of his jobs and tasks before going home to me. probably that's when our child is about to be born." you sigh just to justify this facade.

the students seem to believe your story. although you're quite worried that they might tell this to gojo and your cover will be blown. you planned to talk about this to him, anyway.

"that must've been hard, y/n sensei." nobara mumbles out of sympathy. she was worried for you and your child due to the absence of your husband.

if only they knew that your experience was much harder.

"you could always come to us, y/n sensei. we will not hesitate to help you and your child." beaming brightly as the other two agreed, you really adore yuuji. the amount of softness he gave to you is something that your future child would like to possess.

"thank you, you three. now, you all better go back to training. i will be heading to shoko since i promised to visit her." watching as the three wave their good-byes to you, you couldn't help but to feel an urge to protect them at all cost. probably due to your maternal instinct but whatever, you just hoped they would stay safe.

another fast forward, you are on your way towards shoko's office to spend your free time. knocking softly on her wooden door, shoko opens the door with a smile on her face.

"how's my little mama doing?" she engulfed you with a hug, which you returned warmly.

"good. the morning sickness did not attack me today, thank goodness." you said as you took a seat on her sofa.

shoko also commented that she was happy too. as mentioned before, stroking your six month old baby bump is a must on a daily basis. you are now used with a thought and feeling of a growing child inside you.

"and how're you and dickhead gojo?" shoko changes the topic.

"we were just fine like i have said before."

your friend heave the deepest sigh you've ever known. "just fine? y/n, do you want me to say the like i have said before too?"

"sho, ever since we knew that we're having a baby, we really tried our best to be compatible with each other. but we just couldn't." it's true, on the exact tomorrow of that eventful night wherein gojo discovers your pregnancy, he tried to make it up to you by lessening the sparkling arguments, making sure you are well feeded, and even showering you with things your eyes would have landed on.

you are delighted, of course. even though he absolutely fails his duty as your husband, at least he's trying his best to be a good father for your child. you appreciate him for that and also start to open your heart and pour a little more trust to him.

however, you are not dumb to notice the faint smell of a female's perfume and lipstick stain on his neck whenever he's with you. your heart slowly closes once again and your little more trust shatters.

once you saw yourself crying silently—feeling betrayed and angry for yourself on trusting him shortly after that. guess old habits never die, you are crying about something you've already expected. self-blaming is an understatement for letting your guard absolutely down.

gojo's still a jerk even though you had his baby. i should've expected this. having a baby doesn't mean he's going to change for me.

"we both tried, sho—we both tried. but we just couldn't." your voice dropped its tone once more. you still felt bitter even if it happened way back like two months ago.

"or he just couldn't." she snorted sarcastically.

you both knew she's right, gojo just couldn't. for years of being married, you unfortunately learned how to love a man like him who doesn't even give a one shit about you. tragic. very fucking tragic. if only you could see yourself directly, you would laugh at her nonstop.

"maybe this marriage is meant to be loveless—"

*slam!*

"yo shoko, i need—oh…" the door suddenly bursts open as it reveals your hot issue for today and probably for the rest, your husband gojo. you could tell that he was also surprised (but he shouldn't be) to see you here in shoko's infirmary.

"learn to fucking knock, gojo." shoko hissed at the white haired male.

"oh sorry. am i interrupting something?" he asked, looking at everything but you. he refused to spare you even a small glance, which you kinda do the same.

"you're not. now what do you need?" shoko was the one who answered him.

before gojo could even open his mouth , you already excused yourself. "i'll be taking my leave now. thanks for the check up, shoko." and then you left, leaving shoko and gojo with an awkward silence.

"aren't you going to talk about your business or maybe you want me to kick you out?" shoko sarcastically made a comment.

"right…" satoru cleared up his throat. for some reason, he doesn't know why he's suddenly getting iffy.

"ho…how's the child doing?"

"you have to be fucking kidding me." shoko groaned loudly. somehow, she expected this, but she couldn't believe that she would actually encounter this.

"y/n was just right there moments ago and you didn't even bother to ask her that yourself?!" the doctor could feel herself getting really annoyed. the truth may hurt but she's getting annoyed by the two of you.

fight here, ignore there—ignore there, fight here.

"bet she told you that we're not on good terms even though we really tried to work it out. yet, you're seemingly acting clueless." satoru snorted sarcastically. he's not dumb that you're telling stories to your friend, shoko.

the doctor rolled her eyes. she was this close from smashing his old friend's face to the wall to wake him up and stop being an idiot. "every fucking time, gojo. but that should not be an excuse to not talk to her. you two are still married for god's sake, and now, there's even a child along the way. i can see how much effort y/n has put in your marriage, you must do the same."

"don't you dare to compare her efforts to mine, you know nothing." he growls.

"but i sure know how shitty you are."

something inside satoru snaps. "why are you being angry at me?! you've been like this since we got married. always defending y/n, but what about me?! i have been your friend since highschool and you just met that girl! wouldn't it be unfair to side with someone whom you just met?!"

"you're asking me that when you have six eyes and yet, you can't see how much she suffers from you?!”

“but what about me? am i not suffering too?!”

how did we get here? things are getting pretty out of hand. two friends getting fired up because of a marriage that was about to fall apart. one being inside the marriage while the other one has the eye inside the marriage.

both shoko and gojo have their own sides but it all leads back to one thing, you are involved.

“you don't know how much pressure i take just because of that fucking marriage. everyday that i woke, another constant nagging from these bastards of higher ups. i'm getting so, so tired and i just want to…”

“just want, what? end your marriage by divorcing her?”

the moment the last syllables escaped her lips, she already knew the answer.

“fucking gojo.” shoko mumbles under her breath. “if you want to fix your life, you better not act dumb.”

satoru was still caught silent. his wide eyes trailed on the floor and unable to move. shoko saw how she hit the point. sighing over herself, she motioned the door. “get out, gojo. if you're gonna rethink your life choices, do it in your home with your wife.”

and with that, without a word, satoru left her clinic feeling heavy and defeated.

along the hallway, he saw you. satoru saw you looking at him with horror in your eyes—for the first time in one month, you finally looked him in the eyes, but it's filled with fear and tears.

“y/n, i—” just like what he had done before he left shoko's clinic, you left without saying a word.

satoru felt everything become hazy, his knees were trembling, his six eyes were stinging, his lips were turning white on how hard he bites them. the man shuddered in disappointment, you must have heard everything.

his feet act on their own and chases you, holding you by the wrist. but it was torn away immediately after you forcefully snatched it back. while doing so, satoru didn't fail to notice the hot tears streaming on your pale face, in which you immediately wiped it out.

“y/n, i-it’s not what you think. i…” as much as satoru would like you to hear himself, he hasn't gotten the words. he was left stuck by his own thoughts and self-doubt that he puts himself into shame.

meanwhile, you thought you could've just walked away from the scene. but from the moment you hear shoko and satoru exchange heated words, it gets you glued to the floor and unable to move. despite her clinic being semi-soundproof, you hear everything. even if you're not there in the room physically, you seemingly know everything.

“you don't know how much pressure i take just because of that fucking marriage.”

“everyday that i woke, another constant nagging from these bastards of higher ups. i'm getting so, so tired and i just want to…”

“y/n,” satoru called your name. his tone was very far from you used to. you grow accustomed to him saying your name venomously, but now it seems like he's saying your name delicately and vulnerable…and satoru hates being vulnerable.

“i know what you're thinking. i accidentally eavesdropped but i didn't t hear everything.” you internally praise yourself for being a great actress. you thank yourself for not stuttering and not sounding so dejected.

but you lied. you're a terrible liar. you heard everything. you heard every single thing that escaped his lips during his argument inside your friend's office. and you feel like dying, his words hurt you so much more than any deadly curses.

“have you eaten already? do you want me to prepare you for a bath?” satoru couldn't understand why the heck you still care for your wife duties when your husband, him, just broke your heart not so long ago?

you're acting absolutely strange in his eyes and he hates it. he hates how you would just bury or bottle your emotions. you're creating a facade and a labyrinth where you keep it by yourself.

“y/n, it's not time for anything. let's just talk please.” you hate it how he sounds like he's begging, but satoru never begs.

“let’s go to my room. let's talk this out—”

“gojo sensei! yaga sensei was looking for y—oh…” yuuji trailed his tracks when he saw you and satoru together.

“dummy! why do you just yell like that?!” megumi bonked his friend's head for interrupting your talk.

wearing your mask again, you smiled at the duo then brushed yourself away from the scene. satoru couldn't stop you any further, you're already away from him.

either way, satoru does the same, he wore his mask just like you. smiling at his students, he let them navigate the way towards yaga and deal with all of his shits so he would have time and talk to you properly this time.

meanwhile, yuuji and megumi were dismissed after they had done their task. nudging his black haired friend, yuuji pointed out things earlier.

“hey, fushiguro. is it just me or did i just see y/n sensei…crying?” he questioned. megumi remained silent because even saw that you were crying—they’re also not dumb to notice the burst energy somewhere inside your body.

“whether she is or not, it's none of our business.” megumi replied.

“i know. but i couldn't help but to feel really worried about her. you know crying can be bad, especially when you're pregnant, that could stress her out.” yuuji surprisingly knows how pregnancy somehow works. but they both know he's right again. they're worried about you and your baby, so they both take a mental note to visit you later.

as you slam the door behind you, a silent sob escapes your lips as you slide your back behind the wooden frame. along with the sound of your cries, was also the sound of your heart breaking.

for some reason, the facade you just put up there early makes you suffocate. it burns your eyes and it makes you shudder in pain. the hyperventilating noise escapes from your lips while you clutch the handful of fabrics of your blouse.

“you don't know how much pressure i take just because of that fucking marriage.”

“everyday that i woke, another constant nagging from these bastards of higher ups. i'm getting so, so tired and i just want to…”

god, that feeling burns! his words keep on burning in your head, engraving the letters piece by piece. those words are not too cruel, it's a little far from what you had heard before. but it came out directly from your husband's mouth, the father of your baby.

maybe, you think you acted this way because of your hormones. but nonetheless, he's like blaming you for all of his misfortunes and that made you recall your past arguments with him before.

it was like a collection of puzzles coming up together, picturing a clear image; you were just a distraction, he wanted nothing to do with you, you were just a burden, he wanted to dissolve this marriage, you would never be his, he wanted to be free from you.

you put your hand on your baby bump, stroking it ever so gently. you swore to yourself that you would never let anyone harm your baby, you would never let this marriage harm your baby, you would never let satoru harm your baby, you never let yourself harm your baby. that's for sure.

because as the clock ticks, time passes. and as the time passes, more tears flow to your cheeks along with blood on your legs.

[part 2 is out now — ©luvvixu2024]

[cosmopretty]

Context: Both Nika and Paige have feelings for you, and were jealous of one another. So when Paige makes a joke about being the only woman to make you squirt Nika had to prove her wrong.

Warnings: threesome, fingering, pussy eating, smut, nsfw

a/n: I POSTED THIS AGAIN JUST FOR YOU GUYS B/C I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH <3

It wasn't that you were oblivious and didn't know that Nika and Paige were always flirting with you. It was that you liked it, the attention they gave you, how they treated you like a princess and not to mention how hot they were. They both liked you and secretly they liked each other but neither of the two would ever admit it aloud.

With Nika it was touching you in some way, the girl would hold you forever if she could. She always had an arm around your shoulders or waist and she loved calling you pretty nicknames in Croation because it drove Paige crazy.

With Paige she loved buying you gifts and telling you how beautiful you were. To her you were the most beautiful woman she's ever seen. Every time Nika saw Paige whispering in your ear it drove her crazy.

Everything was a competition between them, if Paige got you to blush Nika was going to make you blush harder. If Nika you a gift, Paige would go get one more expensive. It was game between them, to see who was better for you when in reality they both were.

Which is what led you here naked on Paige's bed with Nika's head between your thighs.

The Croatian girls tongue circles your clit as two of her fingers pump inside of you. You already came once only moments ago and she was already pushing you to another. A hand slides its way around your throat and makes you look up, as you stare up at Paige she bends down kissing your soft lips.

Paige being the cocky girl she was made a joke earlier saying she was the only woman to ever make you squirt. When Nika heard her she knew she had to prove the girl wrong so here you three were.

You moan accidentally detaching your lips from the kiss as Nika's fingers start moving faster and deeper inside of you. Her fingers hit that sweet spot inside of you that makes your head all fuzzy.

"Come on princess you gonna cum again” Nika says pulling away from your clit to look at you from between your thighs.

Nodding your head up and down, you feel Paige's hands move down to your breasts each one massaging your body. You can feel yourself getting closer by the second. Paige's thumbs rub against your harden nipples "Go on babygirl cum for Nika" she whispers kissing down your neck.

All the sensations from the two girls were too much and you can feel yourself squeezing tighter around Nika's fingers. With Paige's hands on your boobs and Nika's fingers inside of you all of it was too much.

"Mm fuck I'm gonna - gonna cum please" You whine your legs starting to shake around Nika’s head.

The brunette moves down to suck your clit harshly pushing you over the edge once again. You felt something snap as you came your juices squirting all over the girl "Fuck- fuck, sorry” you apologize out of breath, as your still leaking all over her and the sheets.

You lay back in the bed leaning against Paige weakly as she wraps her arms around you "Guess I'm not the only one" she mumbles kissing your temple.

Nika licks her lips pulling her fingers out of you slowly wiping her mouth with the back of her hand "See whatever you can do I can do better" the Croatian smirks winking at the girl as she leans over your body kissing your lips.

Paige shakes her head "I bet I could make her cum faster than you" she says staring daggers at her friend.

The brunette raises her brows "Oh really?Let's see" she says moves off of your body grabbing her phone "I'll time you" she tells you.

As Paige goes to move, you shake your head "Wait, no- hold on give me a minute" You say still catching your breath.

Before you can even turn your head Paige is already off the bed fastening the strap around her hips. You look at Paige and groan "I'm not gonna be able to walk tomorrow" you say aloud.

"Oh don't worry princess when she's done fucking you, I'll be here to fuck you after" Nika smirks kissing your cheek getting up to go grab her strap.

[luveline]

jade!! can we please get something with junie’s mom and eddie? <3 missing them today

thank you for requesting! 1.3k

Eddie met you two weeks after you moved into the park, he’s pretty sure. Your baby ran out down the road because you didn’t know that all the trailers have the same bum lock, and she ended up on the Munson porch trying to get back home. 

He still remembers how she could barely talk. He had no idea how quickly babies explode with words. 

“Love you.” Junie smiles up at him, her waiting for a reciprocation all the more impressive. She’s just turned three, and Eddie would argue she doesn’t look it. She’s still a baby in his head. 

“I love you,” he says, leaning down to tap their noses together. 

“Can I have a hug?” 

Just a few short months ago she would’ve shouted “Hug!” and dove into his neck, or said nothing at all. He doesn’t see why that should change. 

“Babe, you don’t have to ask,” he says, wrapping his arms around her. 

She sighs in contentment, relaxing under his hand where he pulls it up and down her back. She’s getting bigger. Eddie can’t believe she’s already three. Where the hell does the time go? Days, weeks slip away. 

But at least they’re with you. God, he can’t believe they’re with you. 

“I’m feeling left out,” you say, laying on the floor of the trailer with your hands held over your chest. You’d been colouring with June a half hour ago, but she got bored fast and left you there. You’ve yet to get up. 

Eddie twists June in his lap so she can see you. He hugs her, and he presses his face to the top of her head, one eye open to see you and the other screwed closed. “You want us to come over?” he asks. 

You think about it. “No. I’m too tired to hug.” 

You’re always tired. Eddie knows that there’s a life he could give you one day where you don’t have to work. He’s not sure you’d let him, but he’d like to get promoted and move you out. He’d like to ask you properly to be his forever, to be permanent, and to live together as a family. Wayne’s telling him not to rush into things, but he really didn’t. You and Eddie were friends for half a year before he finally couldn’t take it anymore, and he doesn’t see that time as wasted, but he knows now that getting to kiss you is something he missed out on. 

Plus, being your boyfriend means he’s actually allowed to take care of you without dousing you in shame. You like being looked after. It’s why Eddie works a ten hour shift and comes straight home to you, so he can fold your laundry and you can get some rest. 

Every time you yawn, it’s a reminder for Eddie that he’s not making your life as easy as he could. (It’s not a healthy way to think about it. It’s not your fault or his that life is hard. But he thinks about it anyway.) 

Eddie gives June a kiss behind the ear and sets her down in the corner of the couch. He grins at her as he does, hoping for a detachment without tears, popping his head into his hand in mock nonchalance. “Babe, I’m gonna go hug your mom back to life. I’ll be right back. Cool?” 

“Cool.” 

Eddie pats her knee and she sits back to watch as he drops to the floor on his knees, crawling around crayons and gel pens and markers to your side. You laugh, flinching as his hand lands on your stomach, but he’s not there to tickle you. He holds your face in the other hand, really holds it, bending time. The mental snapshot he takes of you tired and lovely regardless can join an endless gallery. 

“You’re beautiful,” he says. 

“So are you.” 

“You want some help getting up?” he asks. 

You nod your affirmation. Eddie slides his hands under your arms, murmurs a too tender, “I got you,” as you sit up. He stands and pulls you with him, half drags your tired limbs to the couch where your girl is still sitting patiently. 

He puts you down. Kisses your cheek, throws a blanket across your knees. He picks Junie up to sit where she’d been in the corner and promptly settles with her on his thigh, the other arm open. 

“We’re napping?” Junie asks. 

“Would that be okay?” Eddie asks. “Mom’s tired.” 

“I’m not tired,” Junie says. 

“I know, baby, me neither. I was thinking we’d just lay here and hug mommy for a while, and then we’d have lunch.” 

“I don’t need a nap,” you say, though your eyes are heavy, darting to the empty place in his arms carved out especially for you. 

“Then just hug me,” Eddie whispers. Commanding, disbelieving, he knows you’ll be dozing in five minutes or less. All you need is a little light goading. 

You lay against his side. Junie wiggles to be on her front, chest to chest with Eddie as he sinks down. He kicks up his legs beside you, the three of you collapsing inward, his favourite girls in the world. 

There’s argument on if you can choose your family or not. Eddie doesn’t remember choosing you, just suddenly knowing you, and ever so slowly loving. He loves your face, your arms, the way you breathe. He loves how you turn into his chest and how you seem thrilled to be there, your hand coasting a loving line across him, fingers pressing into his stomach. It’s like you’re waving on his skin. He has no idea where you learned how to touch someone with that much love, but he leans down to kiss the skin just shy of your hairline so you know he feels it. 

Junie’s all little legs and sweetness as she yawns on his shoulder. “Mom, can I have some… some blanky?”

You pull it off your legs to cover hers. Eddie squares it up. Everyone covered, he lets his head tip back against the couch.

He’s not tired. He doesn’t think he’ll sleep. You fall asleep first in a slow series of exhales he knows well, that deepening, your fingers growing still against his t-shirt. 

Junie goes second. She squirms at first, not wanting to give in, but Eddie’s getting better at his dad-pats. He finds the space on her lower back, her off button ever since he’s known her, and he taps his hand against it until she’s breathing heavily against his neck. 

“Eddie?” she asks tiredly. 

“What, rockstar?” 

“Goodnight.” 

He scratches her back lightly. “Goodnight, sweetheart. Do you need me to take you to bed?” 

“No. We can sleep on you.” 

“Who should I sleep on?” he whispers. 

She shakes her head. Unhappy with his question, or maybe her nose is itchy. She falls asleep with her face pressed to his chest a few seconds later, leaving Eddie awake and unsure of what to do now. He trapped himself. 

He can’t find it in himself to mind, worried first about boredom, and then struck with a realisation. How could he ever be bored with you under his arm? 

He has time now to trace your nose, count your eyelashes, whatever he likes. 

“Love you,” he says, pressing his nose to your head. 

It takes a few seconds. “Love you,” you murmur. 

He rubs your arm until you’re sleeping again. It was selfish of him to wake you, but he’d wanted to hear it.

[livebeforeyoulearn]

I’m Not Sentimental

Warnings: Smut, 18+

Word Count: 4.9k

Summary: Alexia notices you from across the room, she’s unable to take her eyes off of you. You catch her staring and lead her back to your hotel room.

-

Alexia stands on the edge of the gathering, her presence unassuming despite the magnitude of who she is within the world of football. A glass of red wine rests delicately in her hand, untouched. She feels out of place here, surrounded by unfamiliar faces who chatter loudly, too absorbed in their own conversations. Her teammates, who’d arrived with her, had already splintered off into clusters, disappearing into the fray of indistinguishable groups. Alexia, however, remains stationary, her eyes scanning the room with a sense of detachment, feigning interest in the faces and conversations swirling around her.

It’s only when her gaze locks onto you that her disinterest falters, something shifting in her chest as she watches you. You’re across the room, engaged in conversation with two women. Though you seem perfectly poised – your smile is wide, eyes glittering in that practised, diplomatic way – there’s something disingenuous about it, a facade that Alexia picks up on instantly. It’s a mask you wear well, one that likely most people wouldn't notice, but to her, it’s transparent. There’s a beautiful irony in it, that slight insincerity of the smile, a professional shield to keep people at arm's length. Yet, Alexia finds it compelling – intriguing, even. It draws her in without her realising it, like a silent force pulling her closer.

Her heart skips when your eyes meet hers. It’s like the whole room stills for a moment. Alexia, unaccustomed to being caught off guard, feels the intensity of the connection immediately, but after a few moments, it becomes too much. The vulnerability in holding your gaze becomes unbearable, and she’s the first to look away, her eyes dropping to the wineglass in her hand. Her fingers flex against the cool surface of the glass, and she forces herself to breathe, though it feels as if the very air in the room has thinned. She hadn’t meant to stare. She’s not the type to linger on strangers, but there’s something about you that makes it impossible to look away for long. As the seconds stretch on, she risks another glance – only to find you making your way towards her.

Her heart stumbles in her chest as she watches you slip out of the conversation with effortless grace, the movement so smooth it’s as if you’ve been waiting for the right moment. Your confidence unnerves her, though she would never admit it. Her grip tightens on the wineglass as her pulse quickens. She tries to compose herself, but when your eyes lock onto hers again, she feels like a deer caught in headlights. Her gaze flickers with a momentary panic before she regains her composure, straightening her posture, forcing a casualness into her stance. But you’ve already seen it – the fleeting moment of surprise – and your lips curve into a small, knowing smile.

By the time you stop in front of her, Alexia’s throat has gone dry. The proximity between you sends her nerves into overdrive, but she fights to appear composed. Her lips part slightly, though no words come out at first, her mind grappling with the surrealness of the moment. You’re even more striking up close, and she can’t shake the feeling that she should be saying something – anything. Instead, you speak first, your voice low, teasing, the words slipping through the space between you with a kind of intimacy that makes her head spin.

“You were staring,” you murmur, the teasing edge softened by the smirk on your lips.

The accusation is gentle, but it sends Alexia’s heart into overdrive. For a split second, she feels caught, as though you’ve peeled back some layer of her she hadn’t intended to expose. Her mind races for a response, but nothing comes fast enough. All she can do is tell the truth, a fact that flusters her.

“I’m sorry,” she finally manages, her voice soft and low, barely audible over the hum of the room. “You’re just very beautiful. I couldn’t help it.”

She watches the effect her words have on you, noting the way you bite your lip and tilt your head, as if considering her. That small, simple action sends a wave of nervous energy coursing through her, and she can feel her heartbeat in her ears. She’s not used to feeling this way – vulnerable, off-balance. You seem to take it all in stride, though, watching her with a look that borders on playful.

Then, you take a step closer, your voice clearer now, no pretence or coyness as you ask, “Do you want to get out of here?”

The question hangs between you, clear and direct, and for a brief moment, Alexia feels frozen. Her mind races, trying to process the suddenness of it all. She’s never been one to make impulsive decisions, but something about the way you’re looking at her – like you already know her answer – makes the choice feel inevitable. After what feels like an eternity, she nods, her voice quiet as she whispers, “Yes.”

You reach out, grabbing her hand with such casual certainty that Alexia feels her mind blank. Your touch is light, yet commanding, and before she knows it, she’s following you through the crowd, weaving past people who are none the wiser. The warmth of your hand against hers, the sensation of being led, of surrendering control, leaves her in a daze, as though every step takes her further from her usual self. She doesn’t think to question it, doesn’t ask where you’re taking her. It doesn’t seem to matter.

You move with purpose as you step into the night, not rushing but not hesitating either, and Alexia follows without a word of protest, her mind too full of you to think of much else. She doesn’t realise where you’re headed until you’re standing in front of your hotel, the building looming in front of you. You walk inside, and Alexia follows as if on autopilot, every step tethering her closer to something she doesn’t yet understand but craves all the same.

Once you reach your room, the door clicks shut behind her, sealing you both inside. Alexia stands there, motionless for a moment, her mind scrambling to catch up with the events of the last few minutes. It’s only when you step closer, your hands gently cupping her face, that her thoughts come to a halt. The touch is gentle, intimate, but it sends a rush of adrenaline through her. Your eyes bore into hers, searching, as if you can see every thought running through her mind. It makes her feel vulnerable – exposed, yet strangely safe in that exposure.

She’s not sure why she’s here, why she’s allowed herself to follow you like this. She isn’t sentimental, never one to make impulsive decisions about people she doesn’t know, yet the way you’re looking at her now, with such intensity, stirs something deep inside her – a craving she can’t name, a desire she doesn’t fully understand but can’t deny.

Your lips curve into a soft, almost predatory smile as you sense her hesitation, the slight tremor of nerves you’ve elicited. You like the effect you have on her. It’s clear in the way you move closer, your breath mingling with hers as you close the distance between your bodies. She can feel the heat radiating from you, the electric charge in the air that seems to bind you together. When her hands instinctively find your waist, pulling you against her, it’s an unspoken claim, as if by that simple action she’s asserting some control, even though it’s clear that you’re the one in charge here.

The moment her lips crash against yours, the dynamic between you shifts. What had been tentative and charged with uncertainty transforms into something electric, raw. Her kiss is hungry, desperate, as though something inside her has snapped, and all that matters is the feel of your body against hers. You respond in kind, pressing against her with equal fervour, your lips melding together in a messy, fervent rhythm that leaves both of you breathless.

The taste of you is intoxicating, each kiss more heated than the last, your tongues tangling together in a frantic dance. Alexia’s grip tightens, her hands roaming down the curve of your waist, fingers digging into your hips as if she can’t bear to let you go. You let out a quiet moan into her mouth, and the sound drives her wild, spurring her to kiss you harder, to press you back until your knees buckle against the edge of the bed.

When you fall back onto the mattress, Alexia follows without hesitation, her body pressing down against yours, the weight of her grounding you. You love the sensation, the warmth of her body seeping through your clothes, the way her hands explore you with a newfound confidence that only makes you want her more. The power dynamic has shifted, but you don’t mind. If anything, it excites you, makes your heart race even faster.

Her lips trail down your neck, leaving a blazing path of heat in their wake, and you tilt your head back, giving her more access. Every kiss, every brush of her fingers against your skin, sends sparks of pleasure through you, heightening your desire to the point of near desperation. When her hand slips beneath your dress, pushing the fabric higher up your leg, your breath catches in your throat, anticipation buzzing through your veins. Alexia’s touch is gentle but firm, her fingers grazing your skin with a kind of reverence that leaves you aching for more. She moves with a sense of urgency now, her mouth travelling lower, lips pressing hot kisses along your collarbone and down your chest, each one igniting a fire in its wake.

You tilt your head back further, arching into her as she pushes your dress up higher, her movements becoming more insistent. The power she seems to be taking, after being so nervous moments before, only makes you want her more. Her kisses are growing messier, more fervent, as though she’s trying to claim every inch of you, and you can’t help but revel in the way she’s beginning to lose herself in this moment.

Her hands continue their journey up your thighs, teasingly slow, until she’s nudging your dress off entirely. You shift slightly, helping her as she pulls it over your head, tossing it aside without a second thought. She pulls back for just a second to take you in, her gaze sweeping over your body, and the way her eyes darken sends a thrill through you. It’s a look that leaves you feeling powerful and vulnerable all at once, but before you can dwell on it, her lips are on you again, more desperate this time.

Her mouth finds yours in another searing kiss as her hands roam your bare skin, fingers tracing every curve, memorising the feel of you. You moan softly into her mouth, the sound fueling the fire between you. She presses you further into the mattress, her body moulding against yours in a way that feels natural, right.

Her suit jacket is still on, and you reach for it, your fingers fumbling slightly as you work to pull it off her. She lets out a low, breathy laugh against your lips, the sound full of heat and amusement, and it only makes you more determined. When you finally get the jacket off, your hands waste no time in slipping beneath her shirt, your fingers running over the toned muscles of her back. The heat of her skin against yours sends a shiver down your spine, and you feel her falter slightly, a soft groan escaping her as your hands explore her body.

You fumble with the waistband of her pants, your fingers clumsy in your growing impatience, but Alexia is quick to help you, her movements just as eager as yours. There’s an urgency in the way she sheds her clothes now, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts as she works to strip herself bare. Once her suit is gone, the cool air of the room briefly brushes over her skin, but it’s quickly replaced by the heat of your body when she lowers herself onto you again.

The sensation of her bare skin pressed against yours, the warmth of her body melding with yours, is overwhelming. She’s all-consuming, her presence, her touch, the way her lips never seem to leave your skin for long. You love it. You crave it.

Her lips move from your mouth to your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down the sensitive skin of your throat. She moves with purpose, her hands roaming your body with more urgency, and you can feel her fingers lingering at the waistband of your underwear. The heat between you is unbearable, every touch sending jolts of pleasure through your body, and all you can think about is how much you need her to touch you, to claim you completely.

When her hand finally slips beneath your underwear, a gasp tears from your throat. Her fingers are warm against your skin, teasing. You arch into her touch, a soft moan escaping you as she presses her fingers into your folds, testing the waters. The sound of your pleasure seems to spur her on, her movements growing bolder, more confident. Her touch is precise, calculated, but there’s an edge of desperation to it that makes your heart race.

“You’re so wet,” she whispers, her voice thick with desire as she presses her forehead against yours. The words send a shiver through you, your body responding to the raw hunger in her tone.

You bite your lip, unable to find words as your hips buck forward, chasing the friction her fingers offer. She smirks, clearly enjoying the power she has over you now, and her thumb brushes over your clit with just the right amount of pressure to make you see stars. Your breath catches in your throat as your body tenses, pleasure building quickly with every stroke of her fingers.

She doesn’t let up. Her fingers work you expertly, her touch relentless as she pushes you closer and closer to the edge. Her other hand grips your waist, holding you steady as your body writhes beneath her, the tension coiling tighter in your core. You can’t stop the soft, breathless moans that spill from your lips, and you know she’s taking pride in every sound she pulls from you.

“Fuck,” you gasp, your voice thick with need, and she rewards you with a particularly hard stroke of her fingers that sends a wave of pleasure crashing over you. Your back arches off the bed, your head falling back as you gasp for breath, the intensity of the sensation leaving you trembling.

She leans down, capturing your lips in another searing kiss as her fingers continue their relentless pace, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your body is on fire, every nerve ending alive with sensation, and you can feel yourself unravelling beneath her. The pleasure is overwhelming, building with each pass of her fingers until it feels like you’re going to break apart from the intensity of it.

When the climax finally hits, it’s like a tidal wave crashing over you. Your entire body tenses, pleasure surging through you in waves, and a sharp, throaty moan escapes your lips. Alexia doesn’t stop, guiding you through the orgasm with practised ease, her fingers moving slower now but still keeping you grounded in the sensation. Your hands grip the sheets, your body arching into her as you ride out the high, your breath coming in short, ragged bursts.

It’s only when you’re too sensitive, the pleasure bordering on pain, that you finally nudge her hand away, your body trembling as you come down from the high. She pulls back slightly, her fingers slipping out of you gently, and you both take a moment to catch your breath. The room is quiet except for the sound of your heavy breathing, and for a moment, everything else fades away.

“I have a strap in my bag,” you murmur. The breathless quality of your voice doesn’t go unnoticed by Alexia. Her eyes flicker with a mischievous glint, and the slow curl of a smile lifts her lips. She raises an eyebrow in that teasing, knowing way, a gesture that makes your heart pound faster in your chest. Without another word, she lifts herself from her position and moves to the edge of the bed, her body graceful as she crosses the room to your bag.

“Under the clothes,” you say, watching her dig through the contents with careful hands as you remove your final piece of clothing. Her fingers move with purpose, sifting through your belongings without disturbing the organised chaos too much, mindful of not making a mess. When she finds what she’s looking for, she straightens up, the strap-on in hand. There’s an energy radiating from her as she turns back to you, her eyes darkened with intent.

She approaches, moving with that unhurried deliberateness that has your body tingling in anticipation. As she begins to put it on, you can’t resist helping her, your fingers brushing against hers as you fasten the harness. Once it’s secure, she steps back, her eyes locked on yours, and you can see the shift in her demeanour.

Before you have time to fully prepare yourself, she gently but firmly flips you over, positioning you on your knees. The suddenness of the movement sends a thrill racing through you. Your arms tremble slightly as you prop yourself up on your elbows, biting down on your lip to keep from whimpering aloud. Alexia moves behind you, and you can feel the weight of her presence, her knees sinking into the mattress as she climbs on the bed. A shiver runs down your spine as her hands find your hips, her touch grounding and possessive. She takes her time, her palms roaming across your ass and up the curve of your back, as if savouring the feel of you beneath her fingertips.

Then, the tip of the toy nudges against your core, and you can’t stop the soft moan that escapes your lips. It’s involuntary, a natural response to the pressure and the teasing contact, and Alexia revels in it. You can hear the way her breath catches, how she groans behind you, biting her own lip hard enough to make it white. Her fingers tighten their grip on the base of the toy, and she begins to slide it along your slit, purposefully slow, almost torturously so. The feeling makes you buck forward, a gasp escaping your lips when she deliberately rubs the toy against your clit.

The pressure is intense, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you, and your head drops to the mattress. Every nerve in your body feels alive, on edge, as she pushes the tip inside of you, causing your back to arch instinctively. Your hips move closer to her, seeking more, needing more, and Alexia obliges without hesitation. With how slick you are from your previous climax, the toy glides into you with ease, and she lets out a low, appreciative groan, clearly enjoying how easily you take her.

Her hands return to your hips, gripping you tightly as she begins to move, her thrusts slow and steady at first. The rhythm she sets is deliberate, almost teasing in its languid pace, allowing you to feel every inch of her. Your moans are soft, but they grow in intensity, echoing in the quiet room. Each thrust, each roll of her hips sends ripples of pleasure through you, and it doesn’t take long before she starts to pick up speed. Her movements grow more urgent, her hips thrusting harder, deeper, until the pleasure becomes overwhelming.

The sound of her laboured breathing, the occasional grunt and groan she lets out, only serves to push you closer to the edge. There’s something primal about the noises she makes, something that stirs the fire within you even more. She’s relentless, her pace unforgiving, each thrust driving you closer to that sweet release you crave. Your body responds in kind, the knot in your stomach coiling tighter and tighter with each deep thrust.

Then, without warning, her fingers slip between your legs, finding your clit. The first touch is electric, her fingers rubbing tight, firm circles around your sensitive bud, and it sends you spiralling. It only takes a few more strokes, a few more thrusts before the tension inside you snaps. You cry out, your body trembling uncontrollably as your orgasm washes over you, wave after wave of ecstasy consuming you. Your legs shake beneath you, your arms barely able to hold you up as you convulse with the force of it.

Alexia’s pace slows, her hips still moving but with less urgency now, allowing you to ride out the last few pulses of pleasure. Her breathing is heavy, mingling with yours in the stillness of the room, the sound of your bodies together a quiet symphony. Eventually, she pulls out, and a soft whimper escapes you at the sudden emptiness. Your body collapses onto the mattress, utterly spent, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.

Alexia falls down beside you, her body equally worn out but with a satisfied grin on her face. She rolls over to face you, her hand lightly tracing circles on your back as her eyes scan your body, taking in every detail as you recover. “You okay?” she asks, her voice raspy, rough from the exertion, and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as you nod.

“Good,” she mumbles, the husky quality of her voice sending another shiver through you, igniting that familiar desire all over again. Her gaze darkens as she watches you lift yourself, the exhaustion in your limbs no match for the fire burning in your core. You move over her, straddling her waist, and without a word, you lean down to capture her lips in a deep, hungry kiss. Your tongues slide together, the taste of her intoxicating as you roll her onto her back.

Alexia gasps into your mouth as your slick heat grinds against her toned abdomen. Her hands move up and down your body, never lingering in one place for too long, as though she’s trying to memorise every inch of you by touch alone. Her fingers squeeze your breasts, sending jolts of pleasure through you, her touch everywhere, overwhelming you in the best possible way.

You continue making out, the slow grind of your hips against her providing a delicious friction that stokes the flames of your arousal. When the sensation becomes too much, you pull back, lifting yourself just enough to position the toy between your legs once again. With a deep breath, you lower yourself onto it, biting your lip to stifle the moan that threatens to spill from your mouth. You’re so sensitive now, every nerve ending in your body screaming with pleasure as Alexia’s hands grip your hips, guiding you, helping you move.

Her lips latch onto your neck, sucking and nipping at the skin there, leaving marks in her wake. The combination of her mouth on your neck and the way she’s controlling your movements has you nearing another climax faster than you expected. Just when you think you can’t handle any more, Alexia flips you over, taking control once again.

Her thrusts are deep, precise, perfectly matching the rhythm you had set. Your body relaxes beneath her, trusting her to bring you to the edge again, to push you past it. Her lips are everywhere – your jawline, your collarbone, your chest – anywhere she can reach. You feel like you’re drowning in sensation, your body completely at her mercy.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” you breathe out, the words slipping from your mouth before you can stop them. She grins against your skin, clearly pleased with your reaction. Her mouth presses into the skin of your neck, the warmth of her lips grazing your pulse point as she continues to move inside you with that perfect precision that only she seems to have mastered. You feel completely unravelled under her, every thrust pushing you deeper into the haze of pleasure that clouds your thoughts.

Her hips roll into you again, deeper this time, and you can’t help the gasp that escapes your lips. You’re completely undone, your breath shaky as you struggle to hold on to the last remnants of control. But Alexia doesn’t let you. Her movements are relentless, every thrust sending waves of pleasure through you, building that familiar tension in your core all over again.

When her hand moves from your hips to the base of your neck, your heart skips a beat. Her fingers wrap around your throat, not squeezing too tight, but firm enough to send a fresh rush of heat through your body. The pressure is intoxicating, adding a dizzying layer to the already overwhelming sensations crashing through you. She’s watching you closely, her eyes dark and full of desire, taking in the way your body reacts to every little thing she does.

Her other hand moves to your jaw, gently but insistently tilting your head so that your lips meet hers. The kiss is demanding, intense, and you struggle to keep up with the way her tongue moves against yours. You’re overwhelmed, your body trembling beneath her, and you know you’re close – so close you can barely think, your only focus is on the feeling of her hips, her lips, her hands on you.

Just when you think you can’t take anymore, her grip tightens ever so slightly on your throat, her thrusts growing harder, faster. The pressure is exquisite, the sensation tipping you over the edge. Your third climax hits you much more intensely than the first two. It rips through you, stealing your breath, and for a moment, everything goes white. The pleasure is so intense that you can’t hear, can’t see – your body goes numb in that perfect, blissful way, your mind floating somewhere far beyond the bed, beyond the room.

Your muscles clench around her as you cry out, your nails digging into her shoulders as you hold on for dear life. Alexia groans, her voice low and guttural, the sound vibrating against your skin as she feels you pulse around her. She keeps moving, riding out your orgasm with you, but her thrusts slow as she lets you come down from the high, her lips pressing soft kisses to your forehead, your cheek, your lips.

Finally, she pulls out of you, and your body immediately feels the loss, but you’re too spent to care. She collapses onto you, her body pressing against yours, both of you breathless, your chests rising and falling in time with one another. Her skin is hot and slick with sweat, but it feels comforting as she lays there, her face nestled into the crook of your neck. You can feel her breath, still uneven, warm against your skin as you come back to yourself, slowly but surely.

You brush your fingers through her hair, tucking it behind her ear so you can see her face. When she finally lifts her head, her eyes meet yours, and she smiles – soft, shy, and so different from the intense, commanding woman who had just brought you to the edge of pleasure over and over again. There’s something vulnerable in the way she looks at you now, as if she’s silently asking if she’s done enough, if you’re okay.

“Did you… like?” she asks, her voice small and slightly breathless, her earlier confidence now tinged with uncertainty. You smile, exhaustion pulling at the corners of your mouth, but you can’t help the warmth that spreads through you.

“I’ve never been fucked so good,” you mumble, and the honesty in your voice makes her eyes widen slightly before a slow, satisfied grin takes over her face. She leans in, kissing you softly, a kiss full of tenderness.

Once you’ve caught your breath, you decide it’s your turn to take control. You roll her onto her back, and the playful gleam returns to her eyes as you kiss your way down her body, teasing her just as she had teased you. Every gasp, every groan that escapes her lips is like music to your ears, spurring you on as you return the favour with just as much intensity. You don’t stop until she’s shuddering beneath you, her voice hoarse from calling out your name, her body trembling in the aftermath of her own release.

The hours slip away as you continue to lose yourselves in each other. There’s no rush, no need to hold back. Every kiss, every touch feels like a new discovery, and you explore each other until your bodies are completely spent, your minds blissfully hazy from the pleasure you’ve shared.

By the time the early hours of the morning creep in, you’re both exhausted, your limbs heavy as you lay tangled together beneath the covers. Alexia’s head rests on your chest, her arm draped across your stomach, and you can feel the gentle rise and fall of her breathing as she drifts off to sleep. You’re not far behind her, your eyes growing heavy as the warmth of her body lulls you into a peaceful slumber.

[slightly-knot-insane]

Homemade

Monstertober 2024 - day 8 [ Chimera/Patchwork ] by @ozzgin

[ ???!monster x villain!fem!reader ]

tw: horror themes, light gore, twisted romance

You need a perfect boyfriend. Obedient, strong, devoted, endowed. But humans are so boring. You've dated so many and all of them have been so disappointing. Dull. Weak.

You walk around your laboratory. The only thing you like about humans is their arms. You like arms. Legs are not necessary, but arms are fun. And everything else you like about living creatures human beings lack: horns, tails, multiple set of genitals, maws, claws, scales. All those exciting things are not available for humans. Tsk, how annoying.

That's why - you think to yourself - you've created a perfect being for yourself. You've gathered and sewed all the body parts you liked. The recovery of your creation has been... shaky, and your new boyfriend still needs time to get used to his new body. But he is such a sweetheart! He is enduring all the pain and bleeding (and occasional body part detaching) just so that he could make you smile. He even wants to hug you and kiss you all the time. Your clothes always ends up bloodied but that's okay! It's not his fault.

"Hello... my dearest," he greets you from inside his cage, slowly forming words. "Will you let me love you today?"

You look at him and melt. His eyes are so gentle and affectionate, a perfect combination of all the colours you love. Even his tail is happily wagging! But you notice something else. He is trying to hide something between his legs. You bite your lower lip. "What do you have there?"

He blushes. "I... I can't control myself. I need something but I don't know what."

"Oh I know what you need," you giggle. "But I'm afraid you need to wait a bit more or you'll fall apart."

He grabs two bars of his cage with such force his enclosure shakes. Now you can see his massive boner peeking between the bars. It's painfully red and swollen. "Please, my dearest! I need... I need you."

Oh how someone begging you makes you wet. He is begging for your pussy. And, to be completely honest, you've been thinking about that perfect cock of his for a while. You wanted to try it out every since you made it. And you've been oh-so-patient. You push your fingers inside your underwear. Oh fuck, you are soaked.

"Okay," you say with a trembling voice. "Let's try. But you stay inside the cage." You still haven't tested his temperament and emotional control. His impulses and stress reactions are unknown to you. But fuck it, science isn't for cowards! That's why you remove the bottom half of your uniform and press your ass against the cage.

He growls and sniffs the air and it takes him mere seconds to understand what he must do. He can only push his cock between the bars and nothing else and his massive phallus is almost to big for you. You rub against his glans, whimpering as it rubs your clit. But you humping him isn't enough. What can you do? And you come up with something so so so risky - you push your arms inside the cage and get immediately yanked by your perfect boyfriend's massive hands. He pulls you against the bars as hard as your body allows, and pushes his cock inside your hungry hole. You scream from delight, praising him, and he growls and howls behind you, overwhelmed by his first copulation. You quickly reach your first orgasm and so does he. He fills you so much your stomach swells. But he doesn't let you move away.

"I need to breed my dearest. I need to breed her every day. I am her pet and slave and I am here to serve her," he says.

You moan in joy, tears forming in your eyes, knowing you've succeeded in creating your perfect boyfriend.

[amirasainz]

Omg, i love your account so much. Can you make a Max x Reader story, where Max is a Mafia Boss and Reader is his wife. He is like super protective of her and gives her the princess treatment always. One night, she sees Max doing something horrible (can be whatever) and gets scared.

Make it angst and happy ending, please 🙏

Hi, I love this idea. I hope I did a good job.

Enjoy reading and send some requests

I am looking for some team principal reader ideas (but anything is fine)

-xoxo, Babygirl 💋

Just a dream

Max Verstappen, feared Mafia boss in Europe, but to his wife Yn, he was simply Max. Her Max. The man who doted on her, showered her with affection and luxuries, and kept her blissfully unaware of the darker parts of his world. Yn knew that her husband was involved in something dangerous. After all, nobody amassed the kind of power and wealth Max did without blood on their hands. But he had always shielded her from that life. He insisted it was for her own protection, and Yn trusted him.

Their life together was picture-perfect. Max took Yn shopping regularly, indulging her in whatever she wanted, from designer clothes to exotic vacations. He was fiercely protective of her, ensuring she was never alone without a discreet but ever-present security detail. But most of all, he loved her with an intensity that was as overwhelming as it was comforting.

One night, however, everything changed.

♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧

It was late, past midnight, when Yn stirred in bed. Max’s side was empty, the sheets cold. She glanced at the clock—2:37 AM. Max had stepped out earlier, saying he had a meeting to handle but would be back soon. Usually, Yn slept through his absences, but something about the stillness in the house unsettled her.

Quietly, she slipped out of bed, pulling on one of Max’s oversized shirts before padding barefoot down the grand hallway. She heard muffled voices coming from one of the rooms downstairs, the sound of Max’s unmistakable low, commanding voice. Curiosity got the better of her, and before she knew it, she was walking toward the source of the noise.

As she rounded the corner, her heart stopped.

In the dimly lit room, Max stood in front of a man who was bound to a chair, his face bruised and bloodied, barely recognizable. The man’s head hung low, his body limp, and Max, the man who was her world, was towering over him with a look of cold fury. Two of Max’s men stood nearby, their arms crossed, watching the scene with detached indifference.

Yn gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. The sound was small, but it was enough.

Max’s head whipped around, his blue eyes immediately softening when they landed on her. In an instant, he shifted from the ruthless mafia boss to the husband who loved her more than anything.

“Yn,” he said, his voice thick with concern, stepping toward her quickly. “What are you doing up?”

Her eyes were wide with horror as she stared at the bloodied man, then back at Max. “Wh-What…what is this?” she stammered, her voice trembling.

Max’s jaw clenched, his expression darkening—not at her, but at his men. “Why didn’t any of you stop her?” he barked, his voice deadly.

The men flinched. “We thought she was asleep, Boss,” one of them muttered, eyes cast down, terrified of the consequences.

“Out. Now.” Max's command was sharp and final. His men hurried out of the room without another word, leaving Max and Yn alone.

He was by her side in seconds, his hands gently cradling her face as he searched her eyes for the fear he knew would be there. “Yn, Schatje, look at me,” he whispered, pulling her close, his strong arms wrapping around her trembling body.

She was shaking, unable to comprehend what she had just seen. “Max…what…what’s happening? Why is that man—?”

Max cut her off, pressing a kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering as he spoke softly, soothingly. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re safe. I didn’t want you to see this.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, her mind racing. “You’re hurting him, Max,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Max’s grip on her tightened, his heart aching as he heard the tremor in her voice. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, Yn. I promised I’d protect you. That’s all this is, okay? It’s business. It’s not something you need to worry about.”

“But…he’s…” Her eyes darted back to the man, slumped in the chair. “Max, what are you doing to him?”

Max sighed, his hand moving to gently stroke her hair, his other arm still securely around her waist. “He made some very bad decisions. And in my world, there are consequences. But none of this…none of it touches you, Yn. I’ve made sure of that. You’ll never be part of this.”

Yn’s tears started to fall, and Max held her closer, his heart breaking at the sight of her distress. He leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers. “I’m sorry, love. You weren’t supposed to see this. I swear, I’ll make sure it never happens again.”

“But…” she tried to protest, her voice catching in her throat.

“No,” Max said firmly but gently, lifting her into his arms with ease. “You’re not staying here for this. I won’t let you. Come on, let’s go back to bed.”

She didn’t resist as he carried her upstairs, holding her like she was the most precious thing in the world. Once back in their bedroom, Max laid her down on the bed and crawled in beside her, pulling her close to his chest.

Yn buried her face in his neck, her tears wetting his skin as she cried softly. Max held her, rubbing her back in slow, soothing circles, whispering comforting words into her hair.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry,” he murmured over and over, his voice thick with regret. “I never wanted you to see that. It’s not who I am with you. Please, Yn, don’t be scared. I’ll protect you. Always.”

Yn clung to him, her body trembling against his. “I love you, Max,” she whispered through her tears, her voice broken.

“I love you more than anything, Yn,” Max whispered back, kissing the top of her head. “More than anything.”

---

The next morning, Yn woke up to the sunlight streaming through the curtains. For a moment, everything felt normal, the horrors of the previous night almost like a distant memory. Max was lying beside her, watching her with a soft smile on his face as he brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

“Good morning, liefde,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss her gently on the lips.

Yn blinked, still feeling the weight of the night before, but Max’s calm demeanor made her second-guess herself. “Max, last night…I…” she began, her voice uncertain.

Max’s smile never wavered. He stroked her cheek tenderly. “It was just a bad dream, baby. You were restless, talking in your sleep. Nothing happened. You’re safe. I’m here.”

Yn frowned, trying to remember, but Max’s words were so reassuring, so certain, that she began to doubt her own memory. “A dream?” she whispered, confused.

Max nodded, his eyes full of love and warmth. “Just a dream. Everything’s okay now.”

Yn nodded slowly, letting herself relax against him. It had felt so real, but maybe she had just been imagining things. Max always protected her, kept her safe. Why would he lie to her?

She snuggled closer to him, letting out a small sigh of relief as Max wrapped his arms around her once more, holding her tightly as though he never wanted to let go.

But as Max held her close, his expression hardened ever so slightly. What Yn didn’t see—what Max made sure she never would—was the bloody rope still hidden under the sofa downstairs. The remnants of the life he kept carefully tucked away, far from the woman he loved more than anything.

And he would do whatever it took to keep it that way.

[churipu]

Idk if u take requests rn, but if you do, could you write fluffy moments with jjk men (pls include toji, i rlly wanna see him w fluff because there is like none) you fav would be cuddling, but you do whatever you want <3 Also, don't stress yourself when writing i, and please take breaks <33

JJK MEN + FLUFFY MOMENTS (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)

featuring. toji fushiguro, gojo satoru, nanami kento x reader

warnings. jjk men being softies

note. i just read the most heart wrenching nanami fic, i think i'm not okay at all </3 but hi anon, thank you for requesting this — this is exactly what i needed after reading angst. i apologize if it took a long time to get this out omg, i hope you like it.

and guys, omg???? 700+ followers? i genuinely never expected my works to be recognized by so much, and meeting new writers here and there, making friends, makes me so happy (i'm not crying) i love u all so so so so much, u guys rock, ily all <;33

TOJI FUSHIGURO

hated talking about the future, but ever since he met you — he rambles about it.

toji has always thought his future was nothing interesting, he kills people for a living, gets money off of it and he gambles. that's about it, so what was there to think about in the future?

meeting you was the firsts to a lot of things in his life.

toji grew up in a loveless household full of anger, and lust for power. which is why he is who he is today. distant, aloof, detached. people tell him he'd be nothing without his strength and face, there is no denying that toji fushiguro has a face card. he knows that.

so when he first met you, all he expected was like every other day. people caring about his face, and only that — and he'd play along although he's had enough of it, but no; you didn't care about all that.

face, money, strength. none of that.

he vaguely remembered the first time you spoke to him: "hey, mind helping me grab that box of cereal?" and he expected you to hit on him after, but you left it at that, muttering out a thanks and then leaving him in the aisle alone.

then for some reason he meets you again, the very next month. asking him the exact same thing, asking for help to take the cereal box which happened to be on the very top of the shelf. god knows why, both you and him just made it a routine every month after that. no communications about meeting and all. you both kind of just, met right in the cereal aisle on one particular day in the month, and then leave.

on the fifth month, he finally asks for your number.

"toji, is that your way of asking me out? because if it is, i'm disappointed."

"maybe."

and then you both kind of just sealed it; you're dating. nothing much changed, every month both you and him still go to the cereal aisle — he still helps you with grabbing the box from the shelf. the only difference was that now the two of you leave together.

toji hates talking about his future. but with you? he could go on for a whole day. he rambles about what he thinks and what he wants in the future with you.

"i wan' to get married. i wan' to marry you," did it caught you by surprise? yes. yes it did, "i wan' to have a family with you, a nice little family. i wan' to have a son so i could throw him around — but a girl is okay too, i can protect her from boys, i'll love them both equally. but i don't think i'll be a good dad to them. i'm scared they won't like me."

"toji, what? where did that come from?"

his back was pressed to your chest as you both lay down on the bed, one of your leg draped over his torso and he has his hand on your plush thigh, squeezing it every once in a while.

"i don't know. just a thought, i never talked about my future with anyone before," his body vibrated as he grunted, leaning his head back a bit, "i just don't think i'll be a good father, y'know?" he squeezed your thigh.

"why do you think so?" you asked him, placing your chin on the crown of his head.

"i just think so."

"stop thinking then," you chuckles, draping an arm around his neck, caressing his throat so softly it made the male shudder under your touch — but he didn't mind, he took comfort under your skin.

"can't." his voice was not stern or bold, it was soft and serene. he laced his fingers with yours, kissing your knuckles gently, "i can't believe 'm saying this, but 'm worried about my future. 'm a little scared."

just the fact he was admitting that he's scared about something was mind boggling, because the toji fushiguro? who kills people? was admitting that he was actually terrified of something, which wasn't even the strongest sorcerer. it's his future.

you were silent, letting him talk because when else would he be able to be like this?

"'m terrified. 'm scared i won't make you happy. what if i don't make you happy? what if my kids hate me?" so many questions that you don't even have the answer to, but you placed your hand over his lips, shutting him up.

toji grumbled, he swiped his tongue over your palm.

"ew!" you laugh, wiping your hand on his shirt, "but why're you suddenly talking about this all? which videos have you been watching again?"

"nothing, can't i think about my own future with you?" he shuffles, turning to face you, prepping an arm under his head as he stares down at you. not in the condescending way — he stared at you with so much desperation for love, he slowly blinks, the glint in his eyes never changing.

"why out of the blue?"

"jus' because."

you poked his cheek, "liar."

he sighs, latching his hand onto your hips, pulling you close. he buries his head into your shoulder in content, "jus' worried about it, i never think about my future in the past. but now — with you, i jus' worry about it because i didn't think i'd make it 'till now."

you chuckled, rubbing the back of his head lightly, "you remember that one time in the park when you see that little boy crying over spilled ice cream?"

he hums softly.

"and you bought him another ice cream, but asked me to be the one to give it to him because you were scared you'd scare him off instead?" you ask him, your fingers tangling with his hair lightly.

"yeah."

"you'll be fine, toji." you tell him.

"y'think so?" he retorts back, squirming a bit.

"i know so."

GOJO SATORU

he has to know about everything that you like, he needs to know why you like them. every. single. thing.

gojo chased after you. you were one tough cookie, he likes a chase. he's so used to people fawning over his looks that when you didn't — he just has to know your name.

the curiosity to know your name ended up pulling him in a spiral of this little thing called "love". gojo swore it was just curiosity, but everyone else besides him thinks otherwise, he promised himself and people around that he didn't like you, he was just, well, curious.

but curiosity doesn't look like that. gojo finds himself asking people about what type of boys you like, and when he finds out about it — he tries his best to be your type. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite flower is, and when he finds out about it, he's out there sending big bouquets of it to you. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite genre of music is, and when he finds out, he listens to them so he could talk about it with you. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite series or movie is, and when he finds out, he watches them all intently so he could talk about them with you and hate on characters together with you. and he still promises that he was just curious.

he was just curious, he kept telling that to himself. so why does it bother him when you were out with another guy? another guy that's not him. not gojo satoru.

gojo asks you about who it was, and when you tell him it's nobody important, he gets upset about it.

"why are you so upset?"

"i'm just..curious."

"it's none of your business."

he left it at that. his whole week was ruined, he couldn't stop thinking about it. about you. and then he finally realizes, he wasn't curious — he was in love. so there he was, in front of your door at two in the morning.

"what?"

"who was that guy?"

"gojo, you're still onto that?" you ask him, tired, "i said it's none of your business. you're here at two just to ask me about that?"

"it's my business because i'm in love with you, damn it!"

gojo was half grateful when you told him it was your distant cousin, but half embarrassed as well. all's well ends well. he gets you in the end, and he doesn't have to worry about anything else — nothing in the world matters to him but you.

"baby, what do you recommend?" was one of the most spoken phrases he has delivered to you.

in restaurants, dessert bars, convenience store, movie theaters, anything you could recommend him, he'd ask for it.

"why do you always ask? don't you have your own preference, satoru? i'm not even sure if you'll like my recommendations though," he smiles at you, tracing small circled on the back of your hand.

"i want to know about everything that you like, and why you like them. i want to know everything about you," you look at him and smiled, honestly, what did we ever do to deserve him?

"why?"

"because i love you." yeah, he wasn't just curious. he's in love. and deep.

NANAMI KENTO

he always orders food that you like, and shares some with you — even if you didn't ask for it.

nanami never expected to be in relationships. in fact, relationships was the last thing in his mind — but when he met you, he just kind of felt attracted. he seeks for your comfort whenever he's tired, and when you weren't there, nanami just sort of drowns in himself until he could see you or hear your voice.

at the beginning of your relationship, nanami was never the one to initiate things because he wasn't an experienced male in relationships. you ask him and he just sort of do it without any other complaints.

but as time goes on, he get the hang of it. what he should do and what he shouldn't — it's adorable, he's started doing things that he never thought he would do in his life, but here he was sitting by your side; peeling apples for you because you wanted them.

"kento, eat some. it's going to be finished by the time you finish peeling every one of them," you joked, your legs on top of his thighs.

nanami hums softly, "it's okay. as long as you like it."

nanami doesn't realize the weigh of his sweet words sometimes, he does it and asks himself to why you were reacting like that. sweet talk is his vocabulary. he says it with no worries, telling you things you've always wanted to hear but never say.

but one thing that always stuck to him and you from the first time you got close up to now was: nanami always orders things that you like. you never understood the reason behind it, and when you tried asking him about it, he just tells you he was craving it.

it didn't seem odd at first — but as time goes on, his whole taste was just an exact copy of yours.

if you get something different than your usual menu, nanami will get your usual menu because he knows damn well that you're going to end up wanting them. although you don't tell him when the food comes, nanami makes it his job to share with you. and that's really sweet of him.

but when you get your usual menu, nanami orders something with elements that you like in them and shares them with you even without you asking for a bite. and not only that, he didn't share a spoonful — he shared a lot.

"ken, you don't have to share with me. i have my own food." you tell him, despite your heart tugging you to just let him share because you were too shy to say that you wanted a bite.

"it's alright sweetheart. i'm a little full." he lies. he ends up snacking on something on midnight, and it's now a routine.

so in exchange for that, you always make it your job to stock up foods ranging from small snacks like biscuits, chips, up to instant or pre-heated food. even cutting up fruits so nanami could snack on it, and he caught on to it pretty quick.

but he didn't complain, he likes it when you do it.

"ken, i cut out some mangoes and dragon fruit. you can eat them if you're hungry."

"thank you y/n."

mutual wins.

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[writingoddess1125]

You Give Them a Massage 💆‍♂️

Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp, Nami, Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk.

Buy me a KO-FI

Luffy

Luffy while not exactly needing massages enjoys the physical affection.

You will focus on his spine as you gently knead his muscles into relaxation. Which usually turns into you kneading a soft rubbery feeling since he will relax so much it's like he turns into a toy.

"Are you stretching out?"

You question as you realize you've kneaded him into puddy. As well as praising the nice clean lemon scented lotions you used.

He will giggle at the feeling and eventually fall asleep at your touch.

"Your hands are sooo nice (Y/N)!'

Sanji

A massage for Sanji usually starts out as physical therapy for his legs since the muscles are so tight and locked up it causes him pain. Stretching him out leads to him usually Biting a Pillow and groaning in discomfort.

*Please watch for your viewing pleasure ;3

Once done with that you massages away. Focusing on his legs and thighs in order to get him relaxed. Using nice peach scented lotion to help him relax.

"Your hands are heavenly my dear~"

He will flirt with you while on the table but eventually just develope into groans of bliss.

Zoro

Zoro will be stubborn and not want a message at first. However fall into it when his shoulders are sore.

You have to use baby oil for him since his skin is very rough. You have to use a lot of strength to work out the knots in his shoulders, having felt stones that were softer.

"This is ridiculous, I don't see... ohh"

Once you hit that point that has been hurting him he will fall under your spell. Humming in gentle delight as you work out the sorness and tension from his shoulders.

He will fall asleep, snoring rathed loudly as you smooth out his shoulders.

"That was.. very very nice"

Usopp

Usopp will be down for a massage, especially since all his maintenance om the ship make his arms sore.

At first talking your ear off about fake stories as you worked, using different mango lotions on his hands to make them soft.

"You know, I traveled to this island once that had beautiful mermaids, they were all over.. over oh that feels nice"

Will eventually fall into a dreamy like state as he will mumble gentle praise as you work up and down his arms.

"That was so nice (Y/N) thank you"

Nami

Oh poor Nami- Her lower back is always a problem for her! So when you offer a massage she jumps at the opportunity.

You work at the very strong tension on her lower back and help ease the ache. Using nice orange scented lotion for her to add a bit of aroma therapy to the room.

"Gods that's so nice... ugh having boobs suck-"

She will grumble earning some nice chuckles out of both of you. Casual conversation will take place between the two of you as you work, but at the end silence will win over as she's too relaxes to speak.

"Thank you (Y/N) you're a life saver~"

Buggy

Buggy never talks about how sometimes his joints ache after using his devil fruit. Mainly his neck if he detaches his head for long periods of time.

Will throw a mini temper tantrum as you tell him to get on the table, which he does even if he makes a fuss.

Once you start this man is all moans and whimpers. Feeling you work the muscles in his neck into relaxation.

"Fucckkkk" He will moan and pretty much fall apart under your skilled hands. The nice strawberry lotion filling the room which makes him even more complient and relaxed. Defiently the type to get 'excited' during a massage as well.

"Well.. maybe we can do this again?"

Shanks

Shanks will be open to a massage, however it takes him a while to actually relax.

You focus on his shoulders and side of his body. Especially the one with his missing arm, He does get phantom pains and were the muscles are suppose to connect on his missing arm sometimes clench at the pack of stimulation. So you have to carefully work those muscles with your fingers and travel up to his shoulders and side of his body.

"...Thank you (Y/N)"

He will sigh out, feeling the ache in his arm fade from your fingers as the cucumber lotion helps him relax. Will try and crack a few jokes with you here and there but will eventually relax enough to allow silence.

"It's been a while since I've felt this nice, Thank you again"

Mihawk

When Mihawk finally allows you to give him a massage after pestering him for a while you see why- It's like his entire back is made of cobblestone- You question how he gets any sleep with this much tension!

It takes a good hour just to work out the knots before you can even begin to give him a proper massage. He will grunt only at the nice feeling of you working his muscles into submission, the Eucalyptus lotion helping his mind fade into tranquil bliss as you work.

Mihawk is dead silent the while time you work, enjoying the peaceful silence as you get him to relax and ease the pain in his entire back.

Once finishes you are close to exhaustion.

"Thank you deeply (Y/N)"

[venerawrites]

vi x readers first time? <3 reader is the inexperienced virgin

author's note: I don't have a lot of experience writing smut, so I was kind of nervous about this one, so I really hope you enjoy! Also, I wrote this as the reader's first time being intimate with a girl, but she is not a virgin (as I don't really know what it is like to lose your virginity to a female, so I didn't want to write nonsense). Anyway, thank you for requesting! <3

warnings: 18+ content, MINORS DNI (I will block you <3); fem x fem; fingering; mirror sex (kind of?);

"God, I can kiss you all day!", Vi muttered against your mouth, before pushing her tongue between your parted lips. One of her hands held both of your wrists tightly above your head, while the other one was gently gripping your chin, holding your face in place.

When you invited the pink-haired girl to join you for dinner with the Firelights, you didn't expect to end up pinned on the bed under her muscular form. Of course, you were not a stranger to her kisses - in fact, you two shared your very first kiss together years ago, when you were both shy and awkward teenagers.

But a long time has passed since then and the tension between you was... different. When you saw her a few days ago for the first time in eight years, you couldn't help but stare - she has changed. A lot. She still had a lean and fit physique, but now she was also taller and curvier. Different tattoos covered her face, neck, and arms, while her clothes clung perfectly to her big chest and round ass.

Much to your embarrassment, you were not as discreet as you hoped to be, and after meeting your gaze, she send you a wink with a small smirk.

A week has passed since your reunion and despite your busy schedule as Ekko's right hand, you found a way to spend at least a few hours every day with Vi. Usually, you hung out on random rooftops around Zaun, telling each other stories and catching up for the lost time. She described in detail what life behind bars was, while you explained what happened in the Undercity since she left.

While you tried to keep your eyes focused on her, rather than her body, the pink-haired woman felt no shame in checking you out and complimenting you every time she saw you. With a heavy blush on your cheeks, you always brushed her comments off - there was no doubt you were crazy attracted to her, but not knowing what her intentions were, and most importantly what her relationship with that enforcer was, you felt like pursuing anything with her would be innapropriate.

Vi, on the other hand, seemed to have her mind already set. So as soon as you proposed to her to go to your room after dinner, so you can relax before you escort her back, she is quick on her feet, eager to finally have some alone time with you. Once you entered, you didn't even have the chance to speak, before she smashed her lips against yours and pushed you down the bed.

"Tell me to stop", she mumbled once she pulled away, but despite her command, her head dipped down toward your neck, leaving wet open-mouthed kisses on your already hot skin. Her teeth grazed your skin and once she heard you whimper when she touched one particular spot right under your ear, she wasted no time in biting down hard. Instinctively, you arched your back and tried to pull away, a sharp wince leaving your lips.

"Sorry!", she said sheepishly, before detaching herself from your skin, so she could look at you, "Couldn't control myself!"

The feeling of her breath mixing with yours caused shivers to run down your spine and you lifted yourself in an attempt to claim her lips once again, before her hand grabbed your chin once again, pinning you in place.

"I think maybe we should sto-"

"No!", the word left your mouth before she could even finish her sentence, "Don't stop now!"

If she was in any other situation with any other person, Vi would've pulled away. She didn't like rushing things, especially when it came to intimacy. But as you looked at her with big doe eyes, lips red and swollen from her kisses, how could she possibly say 'no'? You have been her crush since she was thirteen and despite all the years spent apart, her feelings for you were just as strong as they were back then.

"Are you sure?", her expression softened, "Have you ever done this before?"

Her question made you blush, but you still tried to hide your embarrassment by rolling your eyes at her.

"Is this really the time to discuss this? Yes, I've had sex before! "

"With a woman?", both of her brows rose high and you couldn't tell if she was surprised or just making sure. There was a slight twitch of her upper lip and before you could answer, she opened her mouth again:

"Who? Is it someone I know?"

The red colour on your cheeks intensified and soon it spread down your neck. Vi, on the other hand, seemed to be completely serious, as she seemed to watch you with a mix of curiosity and irritation. You pushed your tongue against your cheek, before letting out a huff.

"Vi, why does it matter-"

"I'm just curious", she interrupted, yet something in her look was telling you it was not an innocent curiosity, "Who was she?"

Letting out a sigh, you tried to move your hands, but her grip was still too tight.

"No, I've never had sex with a woman, okay? Only with men... but it can't be that different, right?"

Your answer seemed to satisfy her, as a small smirk formed on her face, before she caught your lips in a bruising kiss, her teeth clashing against yours, while her tongue found its way inside your mouth once again. The hand that was holding your chin slid down to your waist, softly gripping your side and after a minute, she pulled away once again.

"I am going to take care of you...", she promised, laying her forehead against yours, "But if you feel uncomfortable at any moment, you say stop and I stop, okay?"

With each second your body felt hotter and hotter, and you nodded your head at her words, eager for her to just shut up and continue. She kissed you again, this time softer, while she let go of your wrists, giving you the opportunity to wrap your arms around her neck. Her calloused fingers started to work on the button of your blouse, taking extra time unbuttoning each one.

You, however, were not impressed with her gentleness. The more she teased you, the damper your underwear was getting, sticking to your pussy lips, and taking things slow was definitely not what you wanted right now. With trembling fingers, you moved your hands between you, impatiently pulling the buttons till you could open your shirt wide.

Vi, who had her mouth open in order to offer a sarcastic comment about your impatience, found herself gawking at your chest once you had nothing on, but a red bra. Without moving her eyes from it, she moved her hands toward your boobs, softly kneading the soft flesh. She dragged one of her fingers across the edge of your bra, slowly following the line till she reached behind your back to unclasp it. Gently lifting the upper half of your body, she pushed the shirt off your arms, before pulling the straps of your bra down.

Without wasting even a second, her mouth latched onto your nipple, greedily sucking it, while her other hand started playing with your other breast. You let out a loud moan once you felt her tongue swirling around it and you arched your back, trying to get as close to her as possible. Small whimpers of pleasure fell past your lips, while she continued sucking, biting, and licking your nipple, till it was painfully hard.

"Fuck, Vi...", you muttered, trying your best to control the volume of your voice. After all, you had neighbours on both sides of your room, who, without a doubt, already knew what you two were doing. You ran your fingers through her pink locks, letting out a small whine once she released your nipple from her mouth with a loud 'pop'.

"Damn, muffin, are you sensitive or something?", she laughed, noticing how your eyes rolled back when the hot air from her breath hit your skin.

"Shut up...", you mumbled under your breath, avoiding answering. Vi did not press further and instead focused her attention on your other boob, giving it the same treatment. Your hands ran through her hair, your nails gently scratching her buzzcut. She moaned at the feeling and you gasped again, the vibration of her voice travelling all the way down your spine.

Moving your hands down, you tried to tug the ends of her shirt, but she quickly grabbed you, pinning both of your wrists above your head again. She pulled away from your chest, before gazing at your eyes.

"Tonight is about you...", her voice was now deeper and lower, and you felt more juices flowing out of your pussy at the sound of it, "Let me make you mine."

A loud moan escaped your lips at her words and you couldn't stop yourself from lifting your head and smashing your lips against hers. This time you were the one trying to assert dominance - you pushed your tongue inside her mouth, trying to battle hers while pressing your chest against hers. She returned the kiss with the same passion, squeezing your wrists just a bit tighter.

After a minute, she pulled back panting, her normally light blue eyes now a few shades darker. Without a further word, she released you and stood up from the bed, before grabbing the chair next to your desk and moving it in front of your dresser. You watched her with furrowed brows, confused at what exactly was she doing.

Once she sat down on the chair, she turned to you with a small smirk playing on her lips.

"Come here", the command was soft, yet you didn't need to be told twice before you stood up from the bed and made your way toward her. Once you were within an arm's length, she grabbed your waist, before turning you around and stilling you in place.

"Take them off", she said, hooking a finger under the belt loops of your trousers. With trembling hands, you started hurryingly unbuttoning them, eager to get out of the last piece of clothing on you and finally have Vi touch you. At this point, you were so wet, your panties were dripping with juices, which were also covering the top of your thighs. Despite not being a virgin, you couldn't think of a single time you felt so turned on.

You needed her. And you needed her now.

The pink-haired woman watched as you slid both your trousers and your underwear down your toned legs, bending slightly while removing them from your feet and giving her the perfect view of where she planned to bury her head soon enough. You were so submissive, following every direction she gave you, she almost felt like losing control.

Despite how badly she wanted to take you right now and here, she held herself back. If this was your first time with a girl, she didn't want to rush you.

As you threw the last bit of your clothing to the side, she grabbed your ass, squeezing both of your cheeks before pulling you down her lap. Her hands moved to your thighs, draping them over her own, before she spread them, exposing you fully to the large mirror sitting on the dresser in front of you. Vi grabbed your chin, gently moving it up till your eyes met in the reflection of the mirror.

"Don't look away", she whispered in your ear, her breath causing goosebumps on your skin. Her fingers danced on the skin of your legs and you shivered, your head almost falling back, if it wasn't for her holding your chin still. Moving slowly toward your center, she couldn't help but grin once she caught a glimpse of your glistering thighs.

"Look at you, sweet girl", she chuckled next to your ear, her eyes not moving away from the mess between your legs, "I haven't even touched you yet and you are dripping!"

A loud whimper left your lips and you squirmed in her grip, trying to get her to touch you already.

"Vi...", her name left your mouth as a breathy moan and she snapped her gaze to your face, quirking a brow.

"Hm?"

"Touch me already...", you said with a huff, squirming in her lap once again. She watched your face, a ghost of a smile on her lips, as her fingers grazed over your slit. She bit back a groan once she collected some of your juices on her fingers, before smearing them across your pussy lips.

Your whole body shivered once she brushed over your clit.

"Like this?", she asked with a low voice, eyes not moving from your face, "Is this how you want to be touched?"

Her fingers started to draw lazy circles, which slowly turned into the shape of the figure eight. Still forced to watch yourself in the mirror, you noticed how your legs trembled over hers, involuntarily moving closer together. Vi, however, adjusted her knees, moving your dangling feet even further apart.

"Don't!", she warned, her lips leaving small kisses on the base of your neck, "Relax, baby! Gosh, you are so tense!"

You opened your mouth to reply, but once she slipped two of her long fingers into you, the words got stuck in your throat and all that left your lips was an almost pornographic moan. If you could gather at least some of your thoughts, you would probably be embarrassed - you were never one to be vocal in the bedroom, especially since you were living with so many people in the base. On the other hand, no one has ever made you feel even remotely as good as Vi has right now.

The room was filled with the sound of your slick juices and your eyes rolled back, almost closing once Vi curled her fingers inside of you, dragging them against your g-spot. The fingers that were holding your chin lightly tapped your jaw, bringing your attention back to your reflection.

"Don't look away", she whispered in your ear, pumping her fingers faster, "I want you to watch as you come."

Maybe it was the way she said these words or the image of her fingers disappearing into your pussy, but your walls soon started to flutter, sucking her digits back in every time they pulled away from your wetness. You trembled in her embrace, your hand moving behind you so you could grab her neck and push her toward you. She started leaving open-mouthed kisses on your shoulder, softly sucking and marking the skin.

Your eyelids started to close and you had to put all the effort you could muster in keeping them open, eyes glued to the sight of her fingers moving in and out of you. Once her thumb started to circle your swollen clit you groaned loudly, a mix of moans and whimpers of her name leaving your lips. The hand that was holding your face moved down to your shaking thighs, trying to keep them open, while you desperately chased your orgasm.

"Cum."

This single word was enough for you to reach your peak and you came, yelling her name while trashing your head back against her shoulder. She held you close to her, whispering sweet words into your hair, which your mushy brain could not even comprehend right now. Her fingers slowed their movements but did not stop till you relaxed your back against her, breathing heavily.

There were a few minutes of silence between you, interrupted by your whimper once she dragged her dripping fingers out of your pussy.

"Vi?", you asked with a small voice, still trying to catch your breath and come back to your senses.

The woman only hummed in response, placing small kisses on your neck, which made you squirm in her arms. With a quiet chuckle, she met your eyes in the mirror, lifting a brow.

"Are you alright?"

You nodded your head, feeling too tired to even close your legs which were still dangling over her own. You both looked at the reflection of your glistering pussy, which was dripping with the juices of your release, covering both your skin and Vi's pants.

"When did you learn how to...", you stopped, trying to think of how to phrase your question without sounding too vulgar, "do that?"

Vi let out a loud snort, moving her head to the side, so she can look at your face.

"Muffin, I've been to prison", she pointed out with a small teasing smile on her face, the hand on your thigh gently squeezing the soft skin.

"So?"

Instead of answering, she laughed before shaking her head from the side. Before you can ask her what is so funny, she closes her legs, bringing your own knees together, before she turns you around, scooping you in her arms.

"You're cute", is all she says, before pushing her arms under your knees and back and standing up. She gently carries you to the bed, before laying you down, assuming her previous position on top of you.

"Let me make you mine now...", the words came out as a growl, as she removed her jacket.

You were in for a long, long night...

cc artwork: "Cyberpunk 2077" concept art

[romanarose]

oooo I got a worst Logan blurb for you if that’s okay. But Logan with a new girlfriend that treats him like he’s her absolute world. Like maybe they’ve been dating for a few months, enough for it to be serious, and they’re both involved in each other’s lives pretty significantly. But she just really cares for him, genuinely, and not to overwhelm him, but he’s the background on her phone, and she’ll put him first compared to other important things in her life. Just super sweet and fluff. Feel free to change anything, thank you

Absolutly!!! I love this Idea!!!!

Whole World

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Logan loved coming home. Even better, he loved having a home to come to in the first place, and he loved his girlfriend that was so freshly living with him that her boxes were still unpacked, and several heavy ones were still in his truck bed.

Logan calls your name, and within a second he hears the pitter patter of your feet running, scampering down the stares and around the corner.

"LOGAN!!!" You're face brightens immidiatly and so does his day. You looked so cute, little blue jeans peaking out from under a big shirt, and mismatched goofy socks on your feet. You run to him, and Logan doesn't hesitate to pick your up and spin you around.

"Heya baby, how was your day?" He asks when he settles down, staying carrying you. Your legs lock around his waste as he takes you to the kitchen.

He sets you down on the counter. "Good! Got a lot unpacked, Sorry, I meant to have dinner ready." You pout, but he just chuckles, reaching around you to turn on the oven.

"You were busy, don't be sorry. Besides, I can cook too."

"You're making frozen pizza, aren't you?"

"Always." He grabs a pop tart packet.

You whine a little. "You need real food! You work hard."

"So do you, baby." Logan plops the pop tart in your mouth. "Now, talk to me while I 'Cook.' Been wait'n all day to hear your voice."

So you did. As the pizza cooked you watched as he nailed some pictures to the walls, nodding his head and occasionally making little comments, even as you caught him up on the newest episode of the bachelorette.

"I can't believe Tyler did that." He played along with your chatter. He was really so perfect. Your loving man did so much for you, he was your everything. He worked hard, did all the silly romance stuff like buy you flowers and you liked to think you returned the favor. Logan came before everything else, not that he asked for it. He asked for so little, and sometimes it hurt your heart that he didn't ask for more. Did he not understand he deserved the whole world?

After dinner, you guys go outside for a peaceful evening of some yard work. You wanted a garden, so Logan had been working o tearing up some of the lawn and creating a border. Meanwhile, you weeded the backyard, the two of you just listening to music together. When Logan takes off his shirt, you stare at him, hard. Tense, rippling muscles dripping with sweat, moving and flexing all for you. He deserved a treat.

"I'm gonna head inside, Lo."

"Okay baby, I'll be inside in a few, gonna get this section done."

You knew he'd say that. Gave you the perfect opportunity.

15 minutes later when Logan trudged upstairs, he called your name. "Where'ya at?"

"In here!" You call from the bathroom. When Logan entered, he found you in there, grinning up at him. The bathroom was dark except for the scented candles, gentle music playing.

Logan smiles down at you. "Whatcha planning here, bub?"

You rock on your heals. "I was thinking... you worked so hard today... maybe I give you a nice relaxing bath... I can wash you, if you let me..."

His perfect girl, so eager to please, Logan takes you into his arms, kissing the top of you're head. "Only if you join me?"

So you did. You got in the tub with him, dropping some lavender oils in but not to much to overwhelm his nose, and washed him with your loofa. You even take your exfoliater and scrub him down, even massages his feet. Logan had installed a detachable shower head, so you straddled his hips and even washed his hair. While letting the conditioner you insisted on work on his dark locks, you simply rest on his chest in a hug. He was so touch starved, you knew, years of isolation until he met Wade, but you were going to make up for that. Your were going to make up for every day he felt alone. Logan's hands cupped the water, drawing it up your back where it trickles down again, keeping you warm.

"You're perfect, you know that?" Logan mumbled into your ear.

"Hmmmm.... mid." You joke, but Logan wasn't taking it. He pulled you back, cupping your face and looking directly in your eyes.

"Not funny." Logan admonishes. "I want you to say it. Say, I'm perfect."

You knew better than to argue with him. So, you just smile. "I'm perfect. Your turn."

Logan chuckles. "Good girl. I'm perfect. You happy?"

You rest on his chest again. "Very."