#hey are they in the same bed or not. are they look at each other longingly across the room or across like. an inch of space

[imnotjustreadingg]

everyone but them

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader (y/n) Genre: Best friends - pining for each other - fluff - a little of low self esteem - hurting (not voluntarily) Word count: 3324 Summary: Bucky and Y/N are best friends. They share coffee, secrets, late night talking. Everyone but them can see they're in love. When Bucky got sent away for mission, they began to realize and when he came back it's not all like an honeymoon

It started with a smile. A simple one, shared over steaming coffee mugs in the Avengers’ kitchen, when Bucky walked in hair damp from a morning shower, and found Y/N already there. She was perched on the counter, legs swinging, reading some romance novel with a highlighter in her hand and a sleepy smile reserved only for him.

“Morning, Buck.” His heart gave that same traitorous stutter it always did when she said his name like that soft, easy, like it belonged to her.

“Hey, doll,” he said, trying to play it cool as he poured himself a cup. “Up early for once?”

“I’m always up early.”

He arched a brow. “You’re up early voluntarily for once.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled. “I had a dream about coffee. Couldn’t resist.” He sat across from her, watching her sip from her ridiculous ‘World’s Okayest Human’ mug, and for the millionth time, thought: She’s it.

But he didn’t say it. He never did. Later that day, Natasha cornered him in the gym.

“She’s single, you know.” He didn’t look up from his weighted pull-ups. “Who?” Natasha sighed. “Y/N. You’ve been mooning over her for years. Ask her out.” Bucky dropped from the bar and wiped his face with a towel. “It’s not like that.”

She stared him down. “Liar.”

On the other side of the Tower, Y/N was doing the same dance with Steve. “I’m just saying, Buck’s not gonna stay single forever.”

“I’m not stopping him,” she muttered, flipping channels on the common room TV. “You are, actually. With your whole ‘best friend’ thing and those heart-eyes.”

“I do not have heart-eyes.”

“Y/N.” She threw the remote down with a groan.

“What if I tell him and it ruins everything?” Steve gave her a look softened by too many years of seeing the same tragedy unfold. “What if you don’t tell him and lose everything anyway?” The problem was simple; they were too close.

Bucky knew her coffee order and how she only used highlighters in pink or blue. He knew she snorted when she laughed too hard and that she got hiccups when nervous.

Y/N knew that Bucky talked in his sleep, mostly in soft Russian, and that he always turned his pillow over in the middle of the night to keep it cool. She knew how to tell when he was brooding even when he smiled, and how he always glanced at her first when something funny happened, as if her laughter mattered most. They were already everything to each other.

The night it broke was a stormy one. Thunder rattled the windows. Lightning flashed across the city skyline. Y/N knocked on his door around midnight, clutching her blanket and looking sheepish. “I hate thunderstorms.” He smiled sleepily and moved aside. “C’mon in.” She curled up next to him on his bed like it was the most natural thing in the world. Because it was. They’d shared beds before on missions, after movies, when the loneliness of Tower life hit too hard.

After the best sleep of their night, Bucky got sent on a month-long mission overseas, and their only contact was a string of late-night texts. They talk about everything except how much they miss each other. Until one of them finally says what the other can’t stop thinking.

Day 3 | 9:41 PM

Y/N: I swear the coffee in the Tower tastes worse without you here.

Y/N: Or maybe I’m just dramatic.

Bucky: It’s not you. FRIDAY told me Steve tried to “fix” the machine.

Y/N: That traitor.

Bucky: Miss your coffee.

Y/N: Miss you.

Y/N hit send and immediately followed up with other texts.

Y/N: I mean. Your coffee. I miss your coffee.

Y/N: Not YOU-you.

Y/N: Ok I’m gonna shut up.

She stared at the screen, heart racing. Three little dots appeared. Then vanished. Then they came back.

Bucky: I miss you-you too.

Day 7 | 12:04 AM

Bucky: Had to sleep on the ground tonight. Thought of you complaining about your stiff mattress at the Tower.

Y/N: That’s not fair. Now I feel guilty in my warm bed.

Bucky: Good. I’m suffering.

Y/N: Want me to send you a care package?

Bucky: Only if you’re in it.

She didn’t answer right away.

Y/N: You’re dangerous when you flirt like that.

Bucky: That wasn’t flirting. That was honesty.

 Day 12 | 8:57 PM

Y/N: Saw a dog today that looked exactly like you.

Bucky: …

Y/N: I meant in a hot way.

Bucky: …

Y/N: A big grumpy husky with soft eyes.

Bucky: You think I have soft eyes?

Y/N: I think you have the kind of eyes people fall into and don’t want to climb back out of.

Bucky: You’re gonna kill me, Y/N.

 Day 15 | 2:14 AM

Bucky: Couldn’t sleep.

Y/N: You okay?

Bucky: Just… thinking about things.

Y/N: Wanna talk about them?

Bucky: If I say something real, will you still be my friend when I’m back?

She stared at that message for a long time.

Y/N: Only if you promise to say it when you’re here and not just through a screen.

Bucky: You’re cruel.

Y/N: I’m protecting myself.

Bucky: I get it.

Y/N: Say it anyway.

Bucky: I think I’m in love with you.

Bucky: I’ve thought it for a long time.

Bucky: I was just too afraid to say it and ruin the only thing that’s ever felt easy.

Y/N’s hands shook as she typed.

Y/N: Bucky.

Y/N: You didn’t ruin anything.

Y/N: You just made it real.

Day 28 | 11:33 PM

Bucky: I’m flying back tomorrow.

Y/N: Are you sure you’re ready for terrible coffee and an overly affectionate best friend?

Bucky: I’ve never been ready for anything in my life.

Y/N: Good. Because I’ve been waiting a long time to say something in person, too.

When Bucky walked through the Tower doors the next night, dusty and tired and looking at her like she hung the moon, neither of them said a word. She ran into his arms. He dropped his bag. Their first kiss was long overdue. And when she pulled back to whisper, “I love you,” against his lips, Bucky smiled. “I already knew. But it’s good to finally hear it.”

Bucky didn’t sleep. He didn’t need to, not really. Not when she was curled up against his side in his bed for the first time as a girlfriend, warm and real and breathing slow. Every hour, he’d wake just to check. Her hair tangled over his chest. Her arm draped across his stomach. Her legs tangled with his.

Still here.

When the sun broke through the windows and she stirred with a soft sigh, he pretended to be awake at that moment too. Not to fool her, but because he wanted to watch her wake up like it was something sacred. She stretched, blinking, yawning, then rolled off the bed to pad barefoot into the kitchen in one of his shirts. Bucky lay there for a second longer, then followed. He stopped dead when he saw her reach for a mug in the top cupboard, shirt riding up her back, barring a strip of skin and two soft barely bruises on her hips. Right where his vibranium hand had held her the night before. His breath caught.

“Y/N,” he said, voice too rough. She turned, startled. “Morning,” she smiled. “I was gonna—what’s wrong?”

He walked closer, slowly, like she might vanish. His hand hovered just beside her hip, not touching. “Did I… do that?”

She followed his gaze, then blinked. “Oh. I didn’t even notice. I guess so.”

He stepped back, as if burned.

“I hurt you.”

“Bucky, no—”

“I held you too tight.” His jaw locked. “God, I—shit, I didn’t even notice. I was just so… I missed you.”

She grabbed his hand, the metal one, and placed it gently against her cheek.

“You didn’t hurt me, Buck. You missed me. And you held me like you meant it. I’ll take a couple bruises over a thousand nights apart, any day.”

His eyes were glassy now, guilt written into every tense line of his shoulders. “You’re not a monster,” she said quietly. “You’re a man who loves too much and holds too tight because he’s scared to lose again.” He pulled her into a gentler hug this time, pressing his forehead to hers. “I’m still sorry.”

“I forgive you,” she whispered. “But if you ever apologize for loving me again, I’ll deck you.” He laughed, wet and broken and full of something like relief. “Noted.”

She reached up and kissed the corner of his mouth. “I’m okay. Promise. Just maybe don’t crush me next time.”

“Noted,” he repeated, smiling against her skin. “Next time, I’ll squeeze you just the right amount.”

“You better,” she smirked. “Because you’re not getting rid of me now.”

“Good,” he murmured, arms around her again. “Because I’m not letting go.”

 Bucky didn’t mean to avoid her. It just… happened. Instead of sitting beside her on the couch like he always used to, he took the armchair across the room. Instead of meeting her eyes during game night, he stared at the cards. And instead of hugging her like he’d promised he still would, he offered soft smiles and quiet distance. Y/N felt every inch of it.

Day 3 since the bruises

“Barnes,” Tony said, sipping his green smoothie, “is there a reason you look like a kicked puppy every time Y/N walks into a room?” Steve raised an eyebrow from across the kitchen island. “I thought you two finally stopped playing the ‘will-they-won’t-they’ game.”

Natasha didn’t even look up from her phone. “He saw a couple of bruises on her hips. From hugging her too tightly with his metal arm.” Steve made a face. “That’s it? Those fade in like, three days.”

“It’s not about her,” Nat added. “It’s about him. He thinks he’s dangerous again.”

“Christ,” Tony muttered. “Why do the emotionally repressed super soldiers always ruin their own happiness?”

“Because they’re dumb,” Sam said from the doorway. “And scared.”

Bucky remained silent, just as the other Avengers were talking without him.

Y/N found Bucky in the training room late that night. He hadn’t come to the movie night. Again. She didn’t say anything at first, just walked in quietly and leaned against the wall as he boxed alone, sweat dripping from his shoulders. He was all motion and frustrated, fists flying against the bag like he was trying to punish something that wouldn’t bleed. Eventually, she spoke.

“You’re not going to hit the guilt out of yourself, you know.” He stilled. Didn’t turn. Didn’t breathe. She stepped closer. “You’ve barely looked at me in three days.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“We spoke about this,” she said, voice firm now. “I told you I was okay. I thought you were okay.”

“I’m not,” he said quietly. “That’s the problem.” She walked around to face him, her eyes searching his eyes. “Why are you punishing both of us?” Bucky dropped his gaze. “I thought if I gave you space-”

“I didn’t ask for space,” she cut in, sharp. “I asked for you. All of you. Metal arm included.” His hands flexed at his sides. “You don’t understand, Y/N. I held you like you were the only thing that kept me sane, but I hurt you.”

She reached for him, pulling his hand, that hand, to her side guiding it gently over her hip where the bruise had already faded to a soft yellow.

“It’s gone,” she whispered. “You’re not.” He looked down at where his fingers touched her. “I don’t want to be scared of loving you.”

“Then don’t be.” She stepped closer until her forehead rested against his. “I bruise easy, Bucky. That’s part of being human. But you are loving me with every piece of you, even the parts you hate, that doesn’t scare me.”

He blinked rapidly, jaw tight. “I’ve spent so much of my life being afraid of my strength,” he murmured. She kissed his cheek. “Then let me be the one thing you’re not afraid to hold.” That broke something in him. His arms wrapped around her, tighter this time but still careful, no longer restrained. He buried his face in her neck like he’d come home for the second time in a week. “I missed you,” he breathed.

“You were right here,” she whispered back. “But now I’ve got you back.” Later that night, when they emerged from the training room, disheveled and breathless from laughter, Tony was slowly clapping from the kitchen. “Took you long enough, Terminator.”

“Shut up, Stark,” Bucky muttered, but he was smiling. Y/N only rolled her eyes and laced her fingers through Bucky’s metal hand and all. He didn’t pull away. They didn’t sleep much that night, not because anything happened, but because Bucky kept pulling her closer like he still didn’t believe she was real. Every time she shifted, he tightened his arms around her. Whispered her name. Pressed his face into her neck like she was the only thing that ever brought him peace.

And maybe she was.

In the morning, she woke up first, tangled in him. His dog tags were resting against his collarbone. His arm, the metal one, wrapped securely around her waist and his hand splayed over the place where the bruise had faded. He was touching her now. Like he trusted himself again. She smiled, tracing her fingers along the seam of his shoulder.

“Hey,” she whispered. “You awake?” His lips moved against her skin. “Mmm. I am now.” She leaned in, her voice playful. “So… we survived your guilt spiral.”

He groaned softly. “Don’t remind me.” She kissed his cheek. “You’re forgiven, Sergeant Sulky.”

“I’m still not living that down, am I?”

“Not a chance.” She nuzzled closer, letting her hand slide slowly down his chest. She felt him tense but not pulling away.

“So,” she said casually, brushing her lips near his jaw, “do I get to tease you about our first time yet, or is that too soon?”

He blinked. Pulled back slightly to look at her. “Wait—our what?”

She bit her lip, grinning. “Our first time. Y’know, sex. The thing you’ve been brooding about since 1943.”

Bucky flushed.

His ears turned red. “Doll-”

“What?” she teased, voice innocent. “I think about it. A lot, actually. Especially when you walk around in those sweatpants that leave nothing to the imagination.”

He blinked again. “I have sweatpants like that?”

“Bucky,” she said seriously, “you have no idea what you do to me.”

His hand tightened on her waist. Just a little. “You’re not just messing with me, right?”

“Nope.” She stretched, dragging her body against his, watching his breath catch. “Just warning you that next time you hold me like last night, I might ask you to take your shirt off. For science.”

Bucky’s eyes were staring darker, jaw tight, like he was teetering between embarrassment and desire. And then, to her surprise, he smirked. “Y’know,” he said, voice rough and low, “you talk a lot of shit for someone who melts every time I call her ‘doll.’”

Y/N blinked. “Excuse me—?”

He flipped them in one smooth motion, pinning her gently to the mattress, eyes burning. “You think I haven’t thought about it too?” he murmured. “You, underneath me. Panting my name. Nails in my back.” He leaned down. “Begging.” Her breath hitched. “Bucky—”

“Yeah, like that” he said, lips ghosting hers. “Say it again.” She did. And when he kissed her, it was deeper than the night before—hotter, messier, full of promises and soon. But not yet. Because he wanted her to know he could wait. That he’d earned her, and he’d keep earning her every damn day. Still, as they lay tangled together again, flushed and breathless, he whispered against her ear:

“Next time… no teasing. Next time, we’re doing it right.”

The moment it shifted was small. A glance. A breath. Y/N had been standing in the kitchen, wearing one of his shirts, nothing underneath but a pair of his boxer, pouring coffee like it was a normal morning. But her hair was mussed from sleep, lips still kiss-swollen from last night, and she was humming one of those songs she always sang when she was happy. And Bucky? He couldn’t take it anymore.

He walked up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and kissed her bare shoulder. She leaned into it without hesitation, tilting her head to give him access. His lips trailed slowly up her neck. Her breath hitched. “You’re making it really hard to be patient,” he murmured. Y/N smiled, turning in his arms to face him. “Then don’t be.”

That was all it took. He lifted her onto the counter with strong hands and kissed her like he was starving. She tasted like coffee and warmth and home, and she tugged at his shirt until it was gone, hands roaming his chest like she already knew every scar by memory. “Tell me if I go too fast,” he breathed against her throat.

“Bucky,” she whispered, “I’ve been waiting for this since the day I saw you hold a kitten and pretend you weren’t emotional about it.”

He huffed a laugh, then kissed her again deeper this time.

They made it to the bedroom in a mess of clothes and touches. Every time his fingers brushed a new patch of skin, she sighed like she’d needed it for years. And maybe she had.

He took his time, even when his body screamed for more. He traced reverent lines down her thighs, over her ribs, across her stomach. “Beautiful,” he murmured, “so fucking beautiful.”

Y/N reached up, brushing her fingers through his hair. “Come here, Bucky.” His body covered hers, metal arm braced beside her head on the mattress while his other hand gripped her hip, grounding himself in the feeling. Their eyes locked as he slowly slid into her, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Just breathed. She pulled him closer. “You’re okay,” she whispered. “I’m okay. We’re okay.” He moved slowly, savoring the feeling, the heat, the closeness. Her legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him deeper, and he pressed their foreheads together, panting against her lips.

“I love you,” he said, and it felt like a confession, a vow, a surrender. Her smile was soft, eyes shining. “I love you too. So much.” It wasn’t frantic. It wasn’t rough. It was gentle and raw and thick with emotion, both holding on like the world would vanish if they let go. When she came, it was with a gasp of his name and nails digging into his shoulders. He followed, with a groan against her neck and a whispered thank you like she’d saved him from something darker. Afterward, he didn’t let go. Not for a long time. They lay tangled in each other, hearts still racing. His fingers lazily traced shapes across her spine. 

“So,” she said, breathless and flushed, “worth the wait?”He kissed her shoulder. “More than worth it.”

“You’re still on top of me.”

“I’m never moving.”

“Bold of you to assume I won’t pee on you out of spite.”

He laughed into her skin. “God, I’m in love with a menace.”

She smiled.

[alluraxo]

Trust | Kang Dae-ho [||]

pairing: Dae-ho x pregnant! reader summary: Pregnant and caught in a deadly game, survival was your only focus - until you saw the one person you never expected: the father of your child. The same man who vanished without a word, leaving only a note on your kitchen table. Note: Mature content. Minors dni. (Player 416 is gone, that’s your number now.)

Part I | Part II

You didn’t know what to expect when you took that strange card marked with three cyptic shapes from a complete stranger you had just played ddakji with.

You didn’t know what to expect when you called the number and were asked, without explanation to give your full name and birth date.

There were many things you didn’t expect when agreeing to play.

But being kidnapped, shoved into a truck, gassed into unconsciousness and waking up to the sound of classical music blaring in your ears, searing lights stabbing at your eyes in an unfamiliar room? That was beyond anything you could’ve imagined.

You rubbed your eyes and blinked against the glare. The adjustment period to the sudden brightness taking quite a bit. It wasn’t sun blinding but more so cloud blinding. Like when you step out of your house and the sky is just all overcast, forcing you to squint much harder.

When you could finally see, you looked around.

Bunk beds stacked on each other, against the walls and people. A ton of people in green jackets and green pants with numbers on the left side, right above the heart. Some already up and gathering in the middle, others still in their bed, but one thing was sure. Almost everyone had a confused look on their face as they looked around the white room with strange drawing on the walls.

Stick figures.

Two doors- no, 4 doors. One on the left, one on the right, and two right in the middle with steps leading up to it.

It was strange, having never seen a room that looked like what was presented in front of you.

"Hey, 416."

You were placed right at the top of the bunk beds and you couldn’t help but resent the idea of them making a pregnant woman climb down. Granted, there were stairs once you got down but you’d still have to climb. Hopefully the beds weren’t assigned to each person.

"416! Up there on the bed!"

Wait- were they talking to you? You glanced down. Three white numbers stared back at you from your chest: 416. Sure enough, they were definitely talking to you.

You shifted your eyes back towards where the voice came from. A guy with bright purple hair, spiky and messily meeting the darker shade of shorter hair near his ears. The number on his chest read: 230. He stood on the stairs, leaning against the metal bars and one hand extended out to you.

"Take my hand, beautiful. I, the amazing Thanos can escort you down."

You lifted your eyebrow at him. His voice laced with cockiness and a failed attempt at charm. It might’ve worked on other people but you had Dae-ho.

Had. Past tense.

"No thanks," Your voice came out smoothly as you proceeded to climb out the bed.

Although you hated the idea of doing so while pregnant, what you hated more was being dependent on someone. Everyone you depended on left you disappointed and as much as you thought Dae-ho would be different, he wasn’t.

The trust you had in him faded away slowly and you hated yourself that it wasn’t instant.

You wanted to hate him, absolutely despise his very being, his existence for leaving you pregnant and alone. You wanted to build your walls up and shut him out permanently but you knew he was your weakness. Between the lies and disappointment, you saw him. Him, smiling at you every morning. Him, holding your hand through the worst days. Him, whispering promises during the night that you clung to like a lifeline. Dae-ho was your safety.

It was every moment you both had that made it worse.

Because no matter how hard you tried to hate him, to erase his name and the love you felt for him from your heart, you knew you couldn’t.

Your chest ached with every memory but you knew you had to be stronger now. Not just for yourself but for your baby.

You proceeded to walk down the steps, only stopping halfway once you heard a buzzer.

Looking ahead, you saw people walk in through the doors in the middle. They dressed in pink jumpsuits, wore masks with shapes printed on it, and talked in a deep voice which made you wonder if the mask held a voice changing device.

Their muffled words were pushed to the back of your mind, only really retaining information you deemed important.

Sign the consent form.

Play the game.

Win the money.

"Please look into the camera," The robotic voice spoke as you straightened yourself out and looked straight at the smiley face on the screen. "Smile."

You kept the same neutral facial expression, the shutter of the camera going off indicating that your picture had been taken. With that, you kept moving through the colorful maze-like room with multiple staircases that intersected.

It was mostly quiet as you walked up the stairs, except for the one person behind you that attempted to initiate a conversation by using a pickup line. You paid no mind to them, only throwing back a glare that seemed to shut them up.

After a minute or two of walking, you finally reached the location and walked through the two huge green doors. Four walls encased you, painted with trees, yellow grass, and the sky, giving the illusion that you weren’t trapped inside those walls. The ground under your white shoes crunched as you walked further out. Ahead of you were two of the pink jumpsuit guys and a huge robot standing in front of a tree, which you assumed was fake.

The wind blew and seagulls squawked as they flew by. The sky was overtaken by stray white clouds roaming by, thin enough to see the blue sky right through.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling through your nose and parting your lips to let it out. It was peaceful, almost.

You heard the same robotic voice call out what the first game was.

Red light. Green light. Cross the line in 5 minutes.

It seemed simple enough. You had played games like this when you were a kid. Although you did expect something else, you preferred not to complain about it.

Not everyone felt the same way it seemed. The groans of disappointment and mutters under their breath giving it away. Soon being silenced by the rough yelling of player 456, going on about how you’ll die if you move.

It fell on confused faces, some calling him crazy— saying he just wanted money, others actually being scared.

You were on edge. Could he be telling the truth?

The game started and you began to walk, aiming to stay as still as possible. You didn’t know if he was or not, but you weren’t about to be the one to find out.

Before you knew it, chaos ensued.

Started with a scream, a gunshot, and a thud of a body falling to the ground. Then like dominoes, everyone started falling. Tipping one after the other as player 456’s screams to stay still and not move fell on deaf ears.

Your breath became shaky as someone’s body landed right beside you. The gurgle of blood spewing out their mouth as they took their last breaths almost made you cringe in pity. You stood completely still, fear clawing its way up your veins, leaving every sound muffled once it reached your ears.

You snapped out of it as soon as you heard the shuffle of shoes scraping against the gravel like ground, inclining you to move and so you did.

You stood behind someone, everyone moving like clockwork to get past the line and ignoring the amount of people that got shot… or pushed.

The line was just in eye’s view as you saw majority of the people cross it, and you were almost there. Every step lifting the fear you felt, relief overtaking it.

But it all came crashing down once you felt a sharp contraction shoot through you, bringing you down to your knees. Your arms cradled your belly, the feeling making you shut your eyes tight as you stayed still, hoping it would go away.

"Green light."

You heard but you didn’t move.

"Come on," A voice spoke next to you, leaning down and grabbing your arm, hooking it over their shoulder, "If you don’t cross you die."

You nodded, wincing slightly as you looked over.

'Player 120.'

"Thank you," Your voice came out barely above a whisper, and they only nodded in response. Whilst dragging your feet across the ground, you looked ahead at everyone that watched you, scanning their faces. Some looking in worry, others turned away from the brutal sight of people that had been previously shot.

Dae-hoe held the collar of his jacket up to his lips, his labored breathing calming down once he stepped past the line.

He didn't expect to be caught up in a death game. Regret and guilt crept in his heart, now knowing he put his life at risk for some money. Why did he leave you? Why did he think this was a good idea? Perhaps job hunting a little longer would have paid off.. or perhaps not.

He ran his hands through his hair, a frustrated groan leaving his lips.

Dae-ho missed you. A lot. He missed feeling your lips on his, he missed touching your belly, feeling every kick of the tiny life growing and he especially missed the comfort he felt in your arms. He wanted to see you again, touch you again, run away from the place he was at to go back to your shared shabby apartment.

Because even in a room full of people, he felt lonely.

Whispered mutters of other players reached his ears, going on about how some players were probably not going to reach the finish line.

Dae-ho's eyes followed who they were looking at..

The moment he caught sight of you, his heart stopped so violently that it felt like the world came crashing down on him, keeping him frozen in time.

Dae-ho took a couple of steps towards the line, his heart aching-- no, yearning for you. You, who amidst the chaos that happened all around, still took the spotlight in his eyes. He wanted to run to you, call out your name, hold you and tell you how sorry he was for leaving. He wanted to risk his life- getting shot just to be able to reach you.

But this wasn't the place to do so.

Dae-ho didn't really know how to feel, he felt conflicted. He was beyond happy to see you, yes but almost instantly, worry crashed over him like a wave.

You were here.

You were here and you shouldn't be. You were never supposed to be anywhere near this danger, this absolute nightmare. You should've been at home, curled up in the blanket and sleeping peacefully just like how you were when he left.

He watched as you crossed the line, his feet automatically walking towards you as if you pulled the invisible string to his heart. His heart that was undoubtedly tethered to yours.

Your name left his lips in a cracked whisper, letting the wind carry it away towards you.

When you finally met his gaze- carrying more emotion than words could tell- his breath hitched.

Even with the hurt look in your eyes. You were ethereal.

And he was sorry.

As always, feel free to lmk how you guys feel about this part! <3 Taglist: @inotaku-talkz @ynniksslirg @pinkpunkdynamite @smokingblossoms @xlittlebugx-blog @moonshuul @raynamorono23 @hopelessdisasterr @laitifly @jordanswwe @melanatedhorrorqueen @memorylanee @pepsicolapussi @twilighsstuff @laurenluvss

[gooseraider]

Hi! 🪿I've been thinking about reader who had a bad day and kinda takes it out on Ellie x Ellie whose reaction could be written by you. If you okay with that

Be free to leave this request if you don't like the idea!!! :D

i’m not a mean girlfriend!

a/n: reader is a tiny weeny bit mean but she has ellie who is the patient loving sweet angle gf that she is

the day you had was a day from hell. you slept through your alarm causing you to be late for your shift, because of that your manager was watching you like a hawk all day. you swapped two customers coffee orders and they both ended up yelling at you. while on your break your coworker spilt her matcha latte on you, ruining your favorite blouse and staining it green.

your shift was over and all you wanted was to lay in bed and enjoy some much needed peace and quiet.

upon entering your shared apartment, you’re met with ellie screaming profanities into her mic. she was playing some random video game, eyes glued to the screen and a death grip on the controller.

after hearing the door close ellie looks up, pausing her game. “hey baby, how was work?”

you’re already in a bad mood and ellie asking about work makes it ten times worse.

“it was fine.” you respond with a hint of annoyance.

before ellie can ask anymore questions, you head to you and ellie’s room. letting out a sigh of relief once in the quiet room. you take off your blouse, throwing it some random corner before grabbing a sweatshirt and laying in bed.

grabbing the book on your nightstand, you begin to read through each page hoping to calm yourself. ellie’s yelling from the other side of the door pulls you from the calm state you were in. continuing to read, trying to drown out ellie’s loudness. growing more irritated by the second, you place your book down and head towards the living room.

“jesus ellie could you be any louder.” your voice laced with irritation.

ellie turns around to look at you, “sorry, i’ll try to be quieter.”

you don’t respond, you just walk into the kitchen. you grab a mug from the cabinet, turning around to place it on the counter. you’re met with ellie standing on the other side,

“so, how was your day?” she asks, watching you as you move around the kitchen.

“i told you it was fine.” you say, your voice flat.

“no, you said work was fine, not your day.”

you roll your eyes, “aren’t they basically the same thing.”

“maybe but i don’t care to be honest.”

you continue to make your tea, not saying another word to ellie. she picks up on your low mood, “you okay, you don’t seem like yourself today.”

“i’m fine.”

ellie laughs a little, “you’ve said your fine like three times now.”

“well it’s the truth.”

ellie comes closer to you, “are you sure, you can always talk to me y’know.”

she continues speaking, “if i have to beat someone up i will. also i bought lilly a new cat toy because her old ones were really gross.”

you ignore her as she keeps talking, “how do you feel about pizza for dinner? i saw a tiktok about pizza and that’s all i’ve been thinking about.”

the more she kept talking, the more annoyed you got. you love ellie but sometimes she talks so much and it drives you crazy. all you wanted was some quiet time and ellie had to ruin that.

“can you stop talking for one second ellie, you’re so annoying sometimes.” you take your mug of tea and walk off towards the bedroom, shutting the door behind you.

regret instantly fills your body, you didn’t mean to snap at ellie. you felt horrible, too horrible to leave the room. so you stayed in there until the sun went down, feeling too bad to face ellie.

walking into the living room hours later, you see ellie curled up on the couch. you sit down next to her, hand resting gently on her knee.

“i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have been mean to you earlier, you didn’t deserve that.”

ellie turns to look at you, “it’s okay, i know you were probably stressed about something.”

silence fills the room until ellie speaks again, “so.. care to tell me what caused you to be a total bitch to your girlfriend?”

you giggle, “i just had the worst day and it was one of those days where everything is annoying y’know?”

ellie pulls you closer her, your head resting against her shoulder. “how about next time you have a shitty day you come and talk to me and we work through it together okay?”

you let out a quiet mhm as she begins to rub your arm, “are you mad at me?” you ask.

“why would i be mad at you?”

“because i was being a total bitch to you.”

she laughs a little, “i mean you were but i don’t mind having a mean girlfriend.”

you lightly wack her, “i am not a mean girlfriend!”

she shrugs, “if you say so.”

“fuck you.”

“see, mean girlfriend.”

“i hate you.”

“you love me.”

“i do.”

“i know, i love you too.” ellie leans down and kisses your head.

“you still want pizza?” you ask, eyes connecting with hers.

“of course i want pizza, what kind of question is that.”

“i’ll order the pizza.”

hope yall enjoyed!🪿

[httpssturns]

♫ 002. valentina . . . c.s

⋆.˚ 𓅆 Never Enough Writing Marathon ⋆.˚࿐

cw: SMUTTT, cheating, NOT x reader, sexyyy, Mr. steal your girl, etc. main masterlist for more fanfic reads! 💙

Holy. shit.

She’s fucking beautiful.

 And she has a boyfriend.

Chris can only ogle at the girl, the way her hair subtly bounces with every movement she makes, her smooth, milky looking skin—her eyes.

This girl has to be his.

Chris's feet lead him to her, the effort seeming like he just blacked out before he was right in front of the girl.

“Hey, I'm Chris, and you are?” Chris murmurs, his voice smooth and sexy as he shoots her that smirky grin of his. He knows what he's doing.

“oh, hey Chris. You can call me Valentina.” She smiles, “Valentina, hm? Cute name.” Chris responds, shaking her hand with such a grasp, a lingering hold, that her heart jumps in her chest.

“uh..t-thanks!” She replies, almost uncomfortable now at the way he's looking at her like he wants to just eat her up.

“So, Valentina,” Chris purses his lip, “Can I have your number?” “I—um, I'm so sorry, I have a boyfriend!” She squeaks, backing away slowly.

“Loyal hm? I respect it.” Chris drawls, and before he can even continue the conversation, she's already gone; timidly disappearing to go find said boyfriend.

She cannot believe that just happened. She's never felt more.. turned on.

And guilty, guilty of course. She loves her boyfriend.. right?

————

The party only goes on, everyone getting drunker, looser. Including Chris and Valentina.

Valentina finds herself stumbling towards Chris, why Chris? She herself doesn't even know.

“Oh, the mysterious Valentina is back, hm? Done with your disappearing act?” Chris pokes,

“It wasn't an act.. you just—intimidated me.” 

“Really? Did I make you feel all..warm inside?” Chris teases, his grin smug and evil. He knows he's getting to her.

“..no! Chris, I have a boyfriend.. stop hitting on me..” Valentina pleads, though her body is itching for more.

“Looks like your boyfriend doesn't really care about that rule, now does he?” Chris grunts, cupping her chin to turn her head to the betraying view of her boyfriend, the one that supposedly loves her, quite obviously hitting on another girl.

“I—” Valentina starts, her voice cracking as she feels her heart drop down to her stomach.

“He could just be..talking to her.. talking isn't cheating..” Valentina protests weakly, “he's not just talking to her,” Chris points out.

And she sees it. She sees it so clearly, the one she swore she loved with her whole heart—now feeling up with other woman. One that's prettier, skinnier, everything she isn't.

 Fuck, that really really hurts.

“C'mon baby, don't you want to get him back?” Chris purrs, his warm breath hitting her ear.

“You’re an idiot.” Valentina breathes, but despite the hurt she feels, she also feels something else; Want. Desire. Need.

“mmh, but you're not going to think so after i’m done with you.” Lips. Crashing onto each other, tongue and spit and everything messy—latching onto each other like animals.

Chris slides his hands up her thighs and picks her up effortlessly, her legs hooking around his waist as he stumbles desperately to an empty room. Any room. He just needs her.

The lock clicks as he closes the door, and then he's tossing her onto the bed like some kind of toy.

“Oh.. Chris…” Valentina whimpers, her face already flushed red with need and her body trembling.

“So needy already..” Chris coos, “i bet you can't wait for me to have my way with you..”He slides his warm hands up her thighs, eyes never leaving hers as he slowly, slowly pulls down her shorts—leaving her in the black lacey panties she had put in earlier.

Chris lets out a breath—like he's been knocked out and is scoffing all in the same moment.

“Does your boyfriend really deserve all of this?” Chris asks, his eyes boring into hers. He doesn't wait for an answer, instead tugging the textured fabric down her plush thighs.

“N-no..” Valentina chokes, her glossy lips dropping into a parted moan.

“s’what I thought. This ain't for him, only for me. Hm?” Chris grunts, fingers travelling to the backs of her thighs and spreading her out for him.

“ye—ngh-” Valentina blubbers, but is cut off by the sudden plunge of his index and middle finger, splitting her open already and this isn't even the real thing.

“what was that, baby? I need to hear you say it.” Chris whispers, his tongue then going to trace the shell of her ear.

His fingers scissor in an out of her dripping cunt, thumb rubbing smooth circles over her clit.

“I—only for you.. only you—” she moans, her head already lolling back to face the ceiling.

“mh, what’re you looking at the ceiling for? The show is all over here. Look down.” Chris commands, giving her thigh a stinging slap.

Valentina gasps, loud. But it's not because it hurts, it's because it felt so good.

“Oh? You liked that, hm, baby?” Chris’s grin widens, looking almost evil as the glint in his eyes only grows.

“Maybe I should leave a few marks, show that boyfriend of yours that you're mine.” Not long after, Valentina is spasming around his fingers, clenching around them so tight its a little surprising.

“Oh baby… you're about to cum, huh?” Chris coos, “you want to cum on my fingers, honey?”

 “p-please.. I need—more.. just a little!” Valentina whimpers, her eyes squeezing shut, and as soon as she's about to climax, he withdraws.

“W-why?” she cries in a watery tone, hips rolling desperately to chase that release she already feels crawling away.

“i want you to cum on my cock, that's why.” Chris grunts, almost frantically pushing down his garments and grasping his length in his hand.

“face down, ass up.” he gruffly orders, watching with a smug smirk as she scrambles to get in the position he told her to.

Chris almost gasps at the sight, her plush ass and folds fully on display. “god, you're fucking beautiful..” he breathes.He pumps himself a couple of times, letting his pre-cum coat the base of his cock before dragging the head across her sopping slit.

“Baby, I'm gonna go rough, and I have to make sure you're okay with that.” He breathes, hand resting on her ass.

“mmh- please.. I'm okay with it! Please Chris I need you!” Valentina whines, her back arching further.

“fuck.. do you want to kill me?” Chris gasps, before steadying her hips and pushing in. His eyes almost roll back at his warm and wet she is, practically sucking his cock in.

“So fucking greedy—sucking my cock in like this..” He grunts, his hand smacking her ass roughly.

He begins to plow into her, holding her head up from the pillow by her hair as he takes her in the dirtiest way possible.

All that can be heard in the dark room are the sounds of skin slapping skin—desperate whiny moans and loud grunts.

“Chris… oh my God!” Valentina squeaks, her cunt squeezing his cock in a vice-like grip as he pounds into the hole.

“fuck—baby,” he croaks, “so fuckin’ sexy, just made for this cock. Made to be used like this, made f’me.” Chris slurs, practically fucking the mattress into the drywall as he lands smack after smack on her ass.

It burns, it burns so much. But it also burns so good. So good there will probably be prints left over.

“takin’ my big cock so well, such a good fuckin’ girl.” he moans, gripping your thighs hard as he thrusts into you.

“nngh- so big! So big Chris.. so big-” Valentina cries, feeling her walls stretch to accommodate his hefty shaft.

“Fuck—gonna cum if y’keep saying shit like that..” Chris pants, “You close?”

She only cries out his name in response, hole spasming around him. “C-close! Gonna—fuck! Cum!” 

The taut band in her lower stomach breaks, pussy gushing around him as she slumps against the mattress. The sight has Chris on the verge of cumming as well, fucking into her and chasing his release.

“baby—fuck- gonna cum.. where do ya want it?” He gasps, his hands grip on her turning painful. “o-outside—cum.. cum on me.” She breathes out, and soon enough she feels like hot load spilling onto her ass, painting the red cheeks with a creamy finish.

“fuck.. that was hot.” Chris breathes, pulling her close to his body and rubbing her stomach. “you okay?” He asks, “s-so good..” She mumbles, her face fully fucked out as she curls into his arms.

This only causes him to smirk, sitting up and bringing her to his chest. “you wanna get outta here?”

“m-mhm..”

 “c’mon, let's show that douchebag of a boyfriend what he's missing.” Chris smirks, before he clean himself up and her. He doesn't bother making either of them look presentable, that defeats the whole purpose.

One look at Valentina and you can tell what they did. Hickies litter her neck and her hair is messy from being pulled, the redness of her cheeks and the slight limp in her walk doesn't help either.

The two of them stumble out of the room, looking and smelling like the embodiment of sex. Chris makes sure to walk them over right to her boyfriend, that's right by one of his friends.

“Wha- Val! What are you doing?” the guy scoffs, seeing how she's leaning on Chris with the most blissed expression and marks all over her neck.

“Listen, dude. She's mine. Whether you like it or not, I stole your girl. And you've just lost a whole lot.” Chris spits, before bringing her in for a passionate kiss right in front of the guy. 

When they break apart, Valentina looks more than blissful—almost drunk off of Chris. She only leans into him more, eyes bleary and wide.

The man only scoffs, a scowl on his face “We’re fucking done Val!” he shouts, before stomping off miserably with one of his buddies.

Chris only laughs, picking Valentina off of her feet and cradling her to his chest while he walks to his car.

“i think I made that pretty clear.” He chuckles to himself, kissing the sleepy girls head and buckling her into the passenger seat.

“C’mon baby, let's get out of here.”

Dividers by @cursed-carmine !!!

☆ soph's notes: day 2 of my album marathon!! I hope you guys are enjoying it so far 💙

proofread by @lilssturns 🐳

[sugxto]

I would like to hear. More thoughts on Girldad Eddie and Volt, if you have any spare.

You turn the lights of the bar off, throw the rag onto the wood as you round the corner to the stairs. Quietly, with a practiced care, you head up the steps, tired, but excited to see them, excited for bed. You'd drawn closing duty for the night, a somewhat welcome reprieve from the bedtime dance you all were still playing with Ally, now that she could run, and had perfected those puppy eyes that made her dads' circuits fry.

When you pass the door to the storage room they'd converted to the nursery, you pause, something unfamiliar tugging at your ear. With the gentlest touch you can manage, you push the door open, and the sight makes your own circuits melt.

Eddie sits in the rocking chair, a stock of copper and black curls in his arms, his fingers stroking slowly, up, down, up, down, Ally's arm. He doesn't see you at first, his silver eyes never leaving her face, and he's...

He's singing.

"And if that looking glass gets broke, papa's gonna buy a billy goat, and if -" he finally looks up, sees you, and pauses, the corners of his mouth turning up. "Hey," he whispers, and your heart is bound to overload at how soft his gaze is.

"Hi," you whisper back, and you crouch in front of his legs. Ally is out like a light, her little chest making the faintest rises and falls as she breathes.

Eddie must notice the question you don't ask. "She woke up a few minutes ago," he offers, not stopping the small strokes on her arm. "Just wanted to make sure it took before I put her back down."

You smile, and put a hand on his knee. "I've never heard you sing before."

He lets out the smallest breath that you know is an attempt at a laugh. "Lyric gave me a book of lullabies. Lucky, too, 'cause it was the only thing that seemed to work."

"Well," you say softly, "I think it suits you."

He smiles, a touch of pink blooming on his cheeks even visible in the dark. "Come on, live wire," he says, moving to stand, and as you both find your feet, you run a finger through the small curls before planting a kiss on her forehead. Eddie does the same as he lowers her back to her crib, leaves her with the smallest "goodnight, Ally," and leads you back out to your room.

Volt blinks awake when you both enter, and he groans, though a smile tugs at his lips. "Darlings," he says, in that tired voice you know Eddie loves, "I was in the middle of the most lovely dream."

You laugh, finding some of their discarded clothes on the floor for you to change into for bed. "Don't worry, Eddie will sing you back to sleep."

"Mm, really?" The smile comes out now, along with half-lidded eyes, and he reaches out for Eddie's hand, which Eddie (reluctantly) gives. "Indulge me, my darling."

Eddie scoffs, and he leans over Volt's mess of white bolts, the pink still on his cheeks and a smirk on his lips. "Yeah? Want me to tell you how papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring?"

Volt positively purrs, his back arching like a cat as he shifts his legs, his other hand coming to cup Eddie's face. "I quite like the sound of that. Live wire and I would both like gold bands."

"That so?" he says, steel eyes flicking over to you as you crawl in beside Volt. "And how many carats?"

"Oh, all of them, darling."

He laughs, and pecks Volt's forehead, then your own, before he pulls at the sheet and -

And a cry echoes down the hall, and he sighs. "I'll be back," he breathes, before giving each of you one more kiss.

You settle into the nook of Volt's shoulder, sigh with contentment at his warmth, his fingers stroking your arm the way same Eddie stroked Ally's. If you really listen, you can make out the melody he hums, lulling you down as well.

--

Okay so showed this to a friend and she had never heard this lullaby before, so - Eddie's singing Hush Little Baby. Apparently it might be a southern thing. This is what my dad would sing to little me so I thought it was cute

[mattslilies]

Frequent Fighter - M.S.

"they ask too many questions. you don't." or... the one where you're back at work after your four days off, and your new patient has returned as well. warnings: mentions of blood, injuries, hospital settings, physical violence. little bit of sad backstory. word count: 1.1k a/n: dividers by @bernardsbendystraws! this is a nurse!reader x street fighter!matt fic. is technically a part 2 to this fic, but can be read alone! this fic may have some inaccuracies, i am not a healthcare worker!!

"he's back again."

your friend groaned, rolling her chair around to turn her back to the clipboard being held out for her to take. you looked up in confusion, wondering what the issue was. you'd been on vacation for four days, and had heavily enjoyed not having to work any twelve hour night shifts. you'd slept for almost an entire day, recovering, and then spent your peaceful four days at home.

"who's back?"

one of your coworkers rested her arms on the counter, leaning over to whisper to you as to make sure that nobody else heard what she was saying to you.

"our frequent fighter."

you raised an eyebrow, having a general idea of exactly who they were talking about, an amused smile on your face.

"isn't the saying frequent flyer?"

they both nodded, one tapping the end of the pen against her forehead as she rested her head on her opposite hand.

"well, yes. but this guy doesn't come in for drugs, he comes in after getting his shit rocked. again."

she stood up, sighing, grabbing the clipboard and looking over it.

"he's in my section. i'll handle it."

you looked over at your other coworker as she walked away, opening your mouth to ask a question, before closing it again. she noticed, encouraging you to continue with whatever you were about to say.

"go on. i can see the gears in your head turning."

you hummed in agreement before speaking.

"we don't normally dub someone frequent flyer within a week. how much has he been here?"

she let out a short laugh.

"every night."

you stared at her, shock clear on your face.

"you're kidding. every night??"

she nodded, a knowing look on her face.

"yeah. i know. every single night. he's nearly impossible to work with. nothing we ask him gets answered. he's argued with the cops a few times now, he always walks away with no cuffs though, so he must not be doing much wrong."

you were staring at the closed curtain that he was sitting behind, an incredulous look on your face.

"who in the world keeps beating him up? i mean, he's a grown man, he seems like he'd be able to hold his own, yeah?"

she shrugged, grabbing another clipboard off of the counter and reading over a different patient's chart.

"i don't know. but hey, at least he's consistent!"

you nodded.

consistency was rare in the emergency room. given the fact that a million different people came in with a million different issues every single shift, it was interesting to have someone who kept coming in around the same time each day, with similar injuries. it gave you something to depend on, which almost never happened in your field.

your closest coworker pushed the curtain back, walking over to you with a sour look on her face.

"what's wrong?"

she just rolled her eyes before replying.

"he wants you."

you coughed, not sure you heard her right.

"i'm sorry?"

she just stared at you.

"he wants you, girl. he won't let me touch him. requested you by name."

you were in shock.

"um, why? that's a little strange, isn't it?"

she shrugged.

"you did help him the first time. maybe he's emotionally attached. either way, he needs stitches again, and he wanted you to do it. just leave the curtain open, we can see you from over here, and security is always on standby just in case."

you sighed, agreeing and getting up to handle it.

he had been polite last time. silent, but polite, so there probably wouldn't be an issue. plus, you were self defense trained, in case he decided to try anything funny.

you walked over to the bed, pushing the curtain aside and leaving it wide open this time. you glanced down at his chart, pretending you didn't know why he was here.

"mr. sturniolo. you're back, for the same reason, i see."

he looked up, nodding again.

"matthew."

you stumbled, not processing that he was giving you personal information.

"what?"

you thought you might have seen the ghost of a smile.

"matthew. or matt. you can call me that. i'm sure you know it, it's on the chart."

you nodded, composing yourself.

"yes. it is. i normally resort to last names unless otherwise requested."

he nodded again, showing you his arm. another deep, serrated, cut raked up the side of it, but luckily not hitting anything important.

you shook your head, sitting down, snapping on gloves and grabbing your suture tray to set it up.

"you're either stupid lucky, or somehow trained in knife fighting."

he did crack a smile this time. that was new.

"maybe it's both."

he looked up, seeing the rest of the emergency room.

"you left the curtain open. they didn't do that before. why?"

you looked up, a slightly playful look on your face as you cracked a joke, though it was lined with seriousness.

"protocol, every time a patient decides they want a specific nurse, so we don't get killed."

he looked sheepish as your words processed, which was absurd. you didn't think sheepishness really fit his scarred frame, but here he was.

"i didn't think about that. i'm sorry."

you shook your head, injecting the local anesthetic into the areas of skin around the cut.

"it's fine. why did you request me, anyways? i've only treated you once."

he shrugged.

"they ask too many questions. you don't."

you nodded, skilled fingers dancing quickly across his skin as the thin wire slid in and out of his pale, marbled, skin.

"everybody has their own personal life. it's not my job to be in your personal business, so long as it's not affecting your physical state. if the cops think you're good, and you don't give us any warning signs, we don't press."

he hummed, agreeing.

"this is true."

you wrapped a clean bandage firmly over the wound, wrapping it tight to avoid anything getting in and causing an infection to the already concerning cut.

"well, you're all set."

he stood up as soon as you threw away your gloves.

"thank you."

you turned back to him, a small smile on your face.

"you're welcome. goodnight, matthew."

as soon as he walked out, your coworker stared at you with bewilderment.

"matthew?"

"yeah. that's his first name. he told me to use that."

she looked floored.

"he was talking to you."

you nodded, starting your paperwork.

"he was."

"he smiled at you."

"he did."

she sat back, not saying anything else but a small "huh." your other coworker spoke up, having not seen any of the interactions, a thought on her mind.

"i wonder when he'll be back."

you replied.

"tomorrow night."

she looked over to you.

"how do you know that?"

"you only see those serrated cuts come from one place in this city. he's a street fighter. that's why he keeps getting hurt, and coming back."

[dumbbandpoetic]

Omgg so excited for pop star reader !! Could we get one where they facetime while she’s on tour after one of her shows because they miss each other and they can’t sleep ? 🩷 love you

☆ late night calls

popstar!reader x carmen berzatto

a/n: hey anon!! love this idea, thank you so much for your request <3 i hope you like this xoxo... love you too 🩷

wc: 484 words

She felt a little bad about thinking of calling Carmen. She’d just finished a show in New York, not a wildly different time zone, but enough that he was probably sleeping by now. But she couldn’t sleep. That was the point. The other side of her hotel bed was empty, with no sign of the man who always took that side up.

She spent too long thinking about it. So long, in fact, that her phone started to ring while she was lost in thought. Lucky enough, it was Carmen. She answered without a second thought, sitting up against the headboard.

“Hey, peach.” His voice was a murmur through the phone, thick with sleep (or perhaps, lack of it.) “How was your show tonight? Did it go well?”

“It was great.” She smiled, tucking her pillow higher up under her head. She loved seeing his face, even if it was a little distorted through the phone. “But I wish you were there. I kept looking for you, but you know. You weren’t there.”

“No, I wasn’t.” He agreed with a soft grin, his hand running over the length of his face. She could tell that he was tired. But there was something else.

“Why did you call, Carm? Isn’t it like 2am over there?” She asked quietly, lips pursed as she stared into the phone, rolling over onto her side and holding it up carefully so the angle wasn’t completely awful.

“I can’t sleep.” He angled the phone to show her the empty side of his bed that she always slept on. A small laugh slipped past her lips. “I miss you, peach. When’s your next gap?”

She did the same thing, mirroring the empty side. “I’m almost finished with my US leg. Then I have two months of being in Chicago-”

“And being back in my bed.” He cut her off sleepily, a grin finally painting his features. This is why she liked talking to him at night. He let go of his worries and stresses from the day, and really allowed himself to enjoy his life. He always smiled the biggest at night.

“And being back in your bed.” She repeated, nodding her head gently. “Probably all day. I’m exhausted. I haven’t slept properly in like a week.”

“Do you wanna see if we can fall asleep on this call?” He sounded a bit sheepish, like it embarrassed him to say. The idea wasn’t horrible. But he did sound a little like a high-schooler. But she wasn’t going to tease him for that. He was fragile.

“Yeah, we could try that.” She murmured back, setting the pillow down on the bed and shifting around so she was comfortable.

Their gentle conversation ended soon after, and she could hear his soft snores through the phone. She drifted off with the knowledge of what was waiting for her when the performing was all over.

like and reblog to promote if you can!!! i appreciate everything i can get <3 also please drop reqs in my inbox! i already have one that's coming but more are always always welcome since i love this pairing right now

creds to kodaswrld for the dividers!

[lxvchrismd]

| You never even asked? |

| Pairing: George Clarkey x Reader

| Summary: Y/n has went years with thinking the guy she was in love with slept with her best friend. She sees him at a high school reunion, and all of her feelings are spilled. How does this turn out?

| Warnings: Angst, Smut. 18+ MDNI

| Notes: Hey guys, second time writing smut so it may or may not be good. Enjoy!

✎ lxvchrismd writing below ✎

Y/N hadn’t seen him since Year 11. She didn’t care to. Or so she told herself. He was nothing more than a name in old class group chats and someone she occasionally saw on Instagram stories — mostly with Jackson. And that made her blood boil.

The reunion tonight was at some posh flat in East London. It was loud, packed with people who all knew each other through someone else. One of those high school reunions where old situationships, one night stands, and people with pure hatred for each other were all in one place again.

Y/N had just finished her shot she had agreed to do with some old friends, when she saw him.

George. Taller now, more defined. Hairstyle now a mullet, styled like he barely tried — but of course, it suited him. He laughed with someone across the room, head tilted back, that grin she hated etched across his face.

She turned away quickly, heart racing in spite of herself.

But as the night wore on and drinks loosened tongues, she kept bumping into him — in the kitchen, in the hallway, once at the bathroom door. Until finally, it happened.

They both find themselves alone in Jackson’s bedroom, the others had gone back outside to the fire. Silence wrapped around them like tension waiting to snap. “Still can’t even look at me?” George’s voice was deeper now, sharper with age. Y/N scoffed. “What’s the point?”

He stepped closer, expression unreadable. “You still hate me, even after secondary. What did I ever do to you?” Her jaw tightened. “What did you do?” She turned to him, eyes narrowed. “You fucked my best friend and then acted like I was crazy for being upset.” George looked genuinely stunned, his brows knitting. “You think I slept with Ellie?”

“Jackson told me. You think I just made it up?” He laughed once, bitterly. “Jackson told you? The same Jackson who had a thing for you since Year 10? You believed him over me?” She blinked, her lips parting slightly.

“I never fucked her,” he growled, stepping closer. “I never even kissed her. I liked you, Y/N. I’ve always liked you.”

She stared, breathing uneven. The air between them pulsed.

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” she snapped.

“I was going to, the night of Chloe’s house party.” He says, quietly. “But then you came in, crying, and told me to go fuck myself before I could even speak.” Her mouth opened, no words coming.

“You never even asked me,” he said, quieter now, but with more pain in his voice. “You just hated me. For something I never did.”

A silence settled. Then suddenly she kissed him.

Hard, furious. Lips colliding like a challenge, hands pushing at his chest, his back hitting the wall behind them with a thud.

He groaned into her mouth, pulling her closer, hands gripping her waist as if afraid she’d disappear again.

“Fucking hell, I’ve waited years for this,” he murmured against her lips before kissing her again. Deeper this time, hungrier. Her hands fumbled under his shirt, feeling the tight plane of his stomach, the ridges of muscle as he hissed at her touch. His fingers slid under the hem of her dress, pushing it up with growing urgency.

He kept walking, backing her up against the bed frame until she fell, him softly landing on top of her. His hands roaming around her body, almost as if he’s trying to remember every curve.

“Do you want this?” He asked as he pulled back from the kiss, his voice raw with lust. “Please.” she breathed. He didn’t need to be told twice. She gasped as he slid her panties down, the cool air hitting her skin. He slowly pushed his fingers inside of her, making sure she felt every movement he made, making her almost whimper in pleasure. He chuckled, looking at her reaction to his teasing. “You’re soaked.” “Then do something about it,” she snapped, voice breathless.

Now this? This got him. He immediately unbuckled his belt, taking his boxers and jeans with it. He positioned himself in between her legs almost like he belonged there - he did. He looks at her, almost looking for confirmation, to which she nodded.

She gasped as she felt him enter her. His pace was deep and slow at first, almost teasing. He wanted her to feel everything. “George- please. Faster.” As soon as he heard her pleas, his thrusts became harder, making the tension unravel.

One hand on her hip, the other gripping her hair gently, guiding her movements as they both lost themselves in the moment.

Each thrust drove away the years of silence, of pain, of things unsaid. “Say it,” he growled. She bit her lip, moaning louder. “I want you.” He angled deeper, hitting that spot that made her cry out.

“Louder.” “I want you, George,” she moaned. “I always fucking wanted you.” He let out a low growl, thrusting harder, her name a curse on his lips as they both reached the edge. When they came it was together. messy, loud, and real.

Afterward, breathless and tangled on the bed, she looked over at him. “So... you really didn’t sleep with her?” He groaned, dragging a hand down his face with a grin. “If you ask me that again, I’m fucking you again as punishment.” She smirked. “Good.”

[peachhcs]

OMG samy and will doing the challenge with the candies (poison I think it’s called)

omg yessss someone else asked for me to write about this. i love this trend i think it's really cutie and i think will would actually like this one because he gets to eat while doing it :)

au masterlist

"wait so what do i do?" will wondered while he watched samy place different colored fruit snacks around the plate.

"you'll pick one that's "poison" and i have to try and not pick that one while you do the same," samy said and the blonde slowly nodded. at least this trend seemed fun because he could eat the fruit snacks.

samy set her phone up and navigated into tiktok to record. will quickly adjusted his hair when he saw himself in the camera looking clear that he had just rolled out of bed. (he didn't, he just hadn't fixed his hair yet.) samy hit record, quickly smiling into the camera.

"hey everyone. today, will and i are gonna do the poison candy trend but with fruit snacks because neither of us like jellybeans," the brunette grinned and then nudged will to close his eyes.

she scanned the plate before deciding the orange one would be her poison. she nudged will again so he could choose his poison. samy closed her eyes while the hockey player scanned the plate and chose the purple one right next to samy's orange.

when both of their eyes were open again they started. will let samy go first, smiling as she tried thinking of what one will picked so she didn't eat it. she started with one of the red gummies.

"safe," will said.

he picked a green gummy and samy nodded, "safe."

samy's next gummy was one of the purple ones but it was closer to the edge of the plate. will nodded.

they were actually really good at picking their gummies and they were quickly down to 3 left without either of them losing. will raised his eyebrow suspiciously as he stared at the orange, purple, and green gummy left.

he carefully reached his hand towards the orange fruit snack. his gaze was on samy as he slowly ate it and the girl couldn't help but laugh.

"poison," she giggled.

"fuck, really? mine was the purple on," will scoffed.

"really? wow, we must know each other well," samy smiled, leaning over to kiss will's cheek.

"i was like shit because i obviously wasn't choosing mine so it was a 50/50 i was gonna choose the one you picked," the blonde smiled as well, kissing samy's cheek back as he went to eat the rest of the fruit snacks.

she quickly stopped recording while will jumped off the chair, "i actually really liked that one."

"why? because you could eat fruit snacks?" samy laughed.

view all comments

user1 this was funny

user2 will seemed to be really enjoying himself this time

| user3 probably because he could eat fruit snacks and not get drenched in water LOL

user4 why'd they lowkkk eat in this

user5 the whole time they kept not picking each other's..i never know if these things are rigged or not

user6 my babies so cute

user7 i loveeeee them i NEED samy to do that like finger trend with will where the girl rizzes the guy up

user8 every time will says he isn't doing another trend and every time samy comes onto my fyp it's will doing a trend...

user9 he's so soft for her aw

user10 i laughed out loud

[valiasims]

Cozy Cabin Collection - Bedroom

Hey everyone!

The final part of the Cozy Cabin Collection is here! It is a bedroom set and includes a modular closet with items to fill them up with.

I'm a little sad to say goodbye this cabin theme because I gained a lot of followers through the time I was making these sets and I also learned a lot of new skills and techniques. When I came up with the idea of a large collection to guide us through autumn and winter, I hadn’t expected it to become so significant in terms of sentimental value. I was always thinking about the next idea to bring to life and living in a cabin in my mind. Despite this being a sad moment, I’m so excited for what’s next! I’ll be creating a set for a commercial lot, and I’ve had this idea for about a month and a half. After seeing what the next expansion pack will be, I’m even more excited because I think it will complement it well.

A bit more about this set: It started as a bedroom set but somehow turned into a closet set with bedroom items. At first, I only wanted to add two closet pieces with the door, but I figured it would be more versatile (and not too much extra work) if I included the corner piece as well. A little info on how the door works: You can slot the door onto the closet pieces, with three slots available on each piece. It only makes sense to use the side slots if you have two or more pieces placed next to each other. I added multiple slots for hanging clothes so you can use the in-game clothes (or other CC ones) that are grouped together, but also place individual items without using the TOOL mod.

The wicker basket, folded sweaters and the hat box are stackable.

For the curtains, I made a curtain rod that, for some godforsaken reason, looks completely different in-game than the rod on the curtain items themselves, despite them having the same texture and everything. This was the reason I couldn't include them in the last set—I just couldn’t get them right no matter how hard I tried. I even checked out other CC that does the same thing by separating the rod, and they all had the same problem. Somehow, the lighting on them looks different, and I couldn’t find a solution. So sorry for this issue but hopefully it's not too noticable.

I think that’s all! I’m really grateful for all of you being here—thank you, and I hope you’ll like this set as well. Let me know if you have any issues, and feel free to leave your thoughts below so I can see what you like and what you don’t.

The Set Includes

Wooden Bedframe

Bed Mattress

Decorative Pillows

End Table

End Table Lamp

Wooden Bench

Closet (3 types+corner)

Closet Door

Hanging Elegant Coat

Hanging Jacket

Hanging Puffer Jacket

Hanging Tops

Wicker Basket

Designer Hat

Fluffy Hat

Folded Sweaters

Decorative Footwear (3 styles)

Hat Box

Makeup Bag

Curtain Rod

Closed Curtain (3 heights)

Opened Curtain (3 heights)

Antler Wall Lamp

-DOWNLOAD HERE- Public release on the 15th of March 6PM CST

[screampied]

DI☆MOND BOY. g. satoru

☆ sum. if there’s anything more scarier than a special grade curse to gojo, it’s coming home to his pretty ‘lil wife who’s got a sizzling hot temperature of baby fever.

wc. 8k

warnings. fem! reader, housewife! reader, fluffy smut, unprotected, mention of kids (2), baby fever, brief láctation kink, bóob obsessed gojo, cėrvix mentions, body worship, cunnīlingus, this is where you’re weak right, r has stretch marks, dad! bod gojo, breęding, sqúirting, spitting on it, fingęring, filthy pússy talk, implied multiple rounds, petnames.

an. this is kinda rawdogged, im ugly sobbing to sza, and i think … im a gojo girl now (・・?)

“sweetheaaart?” satoru steps through the doorway, doing a quick scan around the semi-tidy living room that he’s greeted with. turning to lock the door, the heel of his shoe nearly steps onto the edge of a squeaky teething toy. he picks it up, putting it in the basket of other toys with a contempt smile—remembering the kids were staying at your grandparents ‘till the weekend.

still - silence.

satoru scratched his head once you didn’t reply like usual whenever he announced himself. pulling off his coat, his husband instincts kicked in instantaneously. what if - what if, the same questions repeated through his head as he made his way upstairs. his heart’s racing, and as he’s speeding through the narrow hallway, he just hopes his wife’s alright.

but as he twists the croaking handle of the bedroom door, he’s met with you lying on his side of the bed. with a towel underneath you, you’ve got a cute scrunched-up look of frustration as you rub a vibrating wand up and down between your legs. you’re sprawled open—and as you’re whimpering repeatedly, it takes you a long second to realize satoru’s just stiffly standing in the doorway with the dumbest lopsided grin.

“s- satoru!”

“hey, girl,” his eyes avert toward your pretty thighs that trembled, occasionally leering back toward the drenched white towel that sat underneath you. stepping closer, he tossed the bag of toiletries you asked for, hearing it flop near the nightstand. “hey to you too, pretty.” and you pouted, watching as he slowly took the active buzzing toy from your hands.

leaning in, he greets your ankle with a delicate kiss. “ ‘m home, ‘toru’s home.”

his touch, it was forever gentle.

satoru’s lips softly planted against your skin, tilting his head to get a closer look at you - the epitome of looking like a guilty deer in headlights.

cute.

“how was um.. work?” you murmur, trying to ignore the quickening beats of your active heart.

thump after thump after thump and it’s just so loud that you were even starting to hear each pound sound out of your chest and through your ears.

satoru sits up, sliding a part of the blindfold to lift over his left eye.

right away - he’s staring at you with icy-blue eyes that resemble calming waves of crashing tides. long lashes of his flapped prettily as it took in your exposed figure with a single glance.

“was alrigh’,” he hoarsely mumbles before staring at the toy that was propped between your legs just a minute ago—gripping it in his palm. “are we gonna talk about this though?”

“i thought you’d be home later,” you shyly replied, feeling satoru gingerly rest his chin against your bare tummy. your voice sounded so smooth, especially whenever you were a tad bit nervous. he could listen to you all day. “and i never have time to um..”

“play with yourself?” satoru raised a snowy brow, kissing the centre of your stomach.

“mhm.”

“sweetheart, you have me y’know,” he flips a thumb over one of the pink buttons that were on the button, switching it off. the buzzing noise gradually dies down with a ‘powering off’ sound before he sets it aside.

god - you felt so fuckin’ hot.

as he laid close between your legs, showering your skin with ‘i missed you’ kisses — you let off a soft, contempt sigh.

“yeah, but- like, when you aren’t here. i would call you but i don’t wanna do that while you’re working, ‘toru,” and satoru places the edge of his wrist on the side of his cheek, intently listening to you.

his eyes softened - pupils dilating with love, nearly forming into hearts as you spoke. as your sentences continued—you could see tiny dimples forming at each corner of his crooked pink lips. he’s trying so hard not to smile. “. . what?”

satoru sits up before pressing a three-second kiss against your lips. “sweetheart, you can call me while ‘m at work, you know. i don’t mind if it’s you,” and he surprises the left side of your temple with another peck. “even if it’s a text. you’re the only thing that keeps me sane when i’m out trying to save the world.”

“okay,” you replied, cupping his face.

satoru stares deeply into your eyes, and you can already visibly see that smug grin preparing to tug across his pink-glittery lips.

there was something else though.

with the kids away ‘till sunday, you found yourself pondering a bit.

you’d be watching some random show on tv them out of nowhere — you’re hit with a commercial for diapers.

it’s like the universe was trying you.

it’d happen at least more than once a day, and you’re just thinking . . . what if.

satoru and you joked about having another baby sometimes but now - it had you thinking.

just imagining the pure imagery of you walking around with a plump, swollen tummy, again—having satoru carry you almost anywhere, hearing him lovingly brag about his oh-so-perfect wife that’s expecting in the background of a phone call.

ah.

you had baby fever,

again.

that much was apparent, and satoru noticed how you were spacing out mid-conversation.

“heeey, what’s goin’ on in that pretty mind?” he pouts, his face still cupped with both of your palms. “earth to mama gojo.”

“satoru,” you’d sigh, a breathy gasp trying to tear its way through your lungs. you felt like you were burning up—and the more he pressed sweet kisses against your tummy, the more you started to feel your temperature rising. “i.. i feel hot.”

his eyes widen, placing a hand on the back of your forehead. “is everything okay?” and as he starts to get into his ‘protective husband mode’,

satoru sits up, white brows twitching in concern. “stay here, baby. let me get a thermo-”

“no, no- not hot in that way, ‘toru,” you shake your head, grabbing his wrist.

satoru’s a bit dumbfounded and it takes his empty brain a bit to fully register what you meant. leisurely, your thumb circles around his hardened knuckles before you give him that look.

he knew that look all too well.

“oh! oh, you’re …. horny. okay!” he dryly laughs, his look of worry slowly faltering.

satoru grabs your wrists, giving each of them soft open-mouthed kisses before speaking warmly. “i should’ve . . . figured, hehh-” and his eyes flicker down between your legs that were shamelessly dripping from each thigh with dewy drops of slippery slick. “was the new toy treating you well?”

“no. you sort of interrupted me and i didn’t finish.” you huffed, and satoru cheekily grinned.

“well pardon me for thinking somethin’ happened to my beloved missus,” satoru sneaks another kiss against your lips.

he tastes sweet - his lips, were always naturally glossed and his lashes lowered once you let off a cute, impatient sigh.

“but, my poor poor girl,” you moaned as he continued to hoarsely tease you, feeling him sneak a big hand between your already cracked-open thighs.

“girls,” he corrects himself, bringing the pad of his thumb near the opening of your drenched clit. you’re whimpering, hearing a single wet slosh sob from between your legs once satoru gives your entrance a single sparing second of his attention. “she’s as wet as ever, huh.”

“s.. s- ‘toruuu-” you’d gasp, watching as his head trails down low low low until it reaches just below your abdomen.

satoru’s hair gently grazed against your skin, and you were desperately holding in a deep exhale that you didn’t even know you were clinging onto for the longest.

“let’s see how much she’s missed me..” satoru gravelly coos, giving your nub a gentle kiss. it’s a wet ‘mwah’ that sticks against his lips like paste.

your legs were already struggling to hold still, and satoru couldn’t help but hum. as he swirls the flat of his palm around your twitching pussy in sloppy circles, you could already see him hungrily licking his lips through your blurred peripherals.

lying fully back, your back hits against the cushioned pillow that flatly plumps itself out against your weight.

your breaths started to sound more and more labored the closer he pursed his puckered his lips..

wetly, satoru brings a lanky middle finger towards your entrance before gradually sinking it inside. you’re moaning, feeling the lengthy tip of his tongue before he treats the top of your clit with a few beginning kitten licks.

“f- fuuuck,” your brows curled together, feeling him cup his mouth around your pussy. it’s a damp, wet pop! that resounds from between your legs, and it’s all because of his finger that easily disappears between your folds. “more, ‘toru- pleaseplease.”

“ ‘m gettin’ there,” he purrs huskily, grunting once he swirls his middle finger around inside of you. it’s so looong, stretching all through you as he feels you tighten around his digit for a few split seconds.

“atta girl, bare ‘round it for me jus’ like that baby … fuck.” as you’re slowly wetting his middle finger with your slickness, that’s when you feel him preparing to stick another in.

it’s so slippery yet again - loudly, it pops its way inside, echoing out a pretty noise before he eases his index finger inside. satoru’s fingers were just so damn long that it didn’t take him long to locate your g-spot at all.

with a ‘c’mere’ motion of his fingers pulling back and forth inside of you, he’s flicking both fingers you’re already spasming out. he’s reaching you good, and he’s drinking every melodic moan that left from your lips.

“f- fuck, riiiight there,” you’d continue, your hips squirming a bit. parched breaths from satoru fanned against your pussy, and he’s groaning right with you.

you’re just so wet - drowning in puddles of your lustful filth, and like the doting husband he was, he just had to clean you up. proudly, he does so with nothing more than a few flicks of his tongue.

“s.. satoruuu.” you’d whimper, biting the inside of your cheek once the pad of his index finger’s starting to ruuub its way against your g-spot.

your scent - satoru went feral for it every time, and he’s starting to lap his tongue against your clit at a much more erratic speed.

he’s forming slow yet steady stripes in an up ‘n down motion, occasionally smearing a thumb across your cunt to hear you whine. satoru’s low groans were muffled—sounding husky and all, and he’s just merrily slurping you while you writhe uncontrollably against his face. he even had the goofiest grin on his face the entire time too.

he had to admit, being between his wife’s legs or even being in your presence alone was far better than fighting some ugly special grade curse.

your grabby hands found their way to your full, jouncing breasts and you gave them a nice squeeze before whining again. even that made you sensitive.

between the wet thrusts of his long tongue—satoru’s giving your heat sloppy, sloppy kisses, even making sure to give your pussy a few pecks also. he left no area unattended.

satoru’s eyes shined bright, even brighter whenever when he was between your thighs.

in a way, the colors of his blue eyes had parallels to the shade of sapphire or any jewel, really.

as his eyes occasionally met against your own— you’re always staring at a vibrant, luminescent shade of cerulean that was forevermore fixated on you and only you.

his wife.

“mhh, hearin’ her cry for me is just the recharge i need from work, sweetheart,” he groans, cautiously pushing his twinned digits in of your cunt before pulling them riiiight back out.

not all the way, but just to where the glossy tips of his fingers showed. you’re clamping down on them both well—and he made sure that you felt every inch. you were indeed loud though, especially between your legs.

as satoru’s counting each vulgar squelch in his head, tittering to himself at how you just couldn’t help but pop out slosh after soddened slosh..

he’s paying attention to certain spots inside of you, and he’s stickily hitting all tender spots inside of your pussy - treating each one like a target.

bullseye after bullseye - he hits you in all the right places, and if it was one thing satoru’s long fingertips didn’t do, it was that they never miss.

ever.

your back’s just arching like a stretching feline, and your unsteady irregular breaths were far more than labored by this point. satoru’s tongue glides its way across your pussy before he takes a moment to spit right against your sopping entrance. you’re moaning, peering down at him, and he’s so focused on the mess taking place between your cute, shuddering thighs..

“haah-” he breathes, pulling out his fingers briefly to suck on them for a taste. “missed her so bad. she’s missed me too - fuck, can’t . . help but clench all ‘round me,” he whispers, prying your legs even more apart.

satoru’s taking his precious sweet time, savoring each honeyed drop that dribbled down your thighs before he feels your hand gripping his hair. as his head abruptly yanks forward, satoru looks up at you while sliding a tongue over his lower, slick-covered lip. “hm?”

“ ‘toru, m- my stretch marks,” you hesitate, your thumb gently digging a path through his scalp.

pausing, his dripping lips rested near the crevice of your thighs before he kissed the inner corner. “yeah. what about ‘em?”

truth be told, you were never so fond of them.

you knew your body would change after pregnancy, even more after the second time but still -

it had you feeling a bit iffy sometimes, pouting whenever you looked in the mirror and peeking down to glance at the stained marks reminding you of your visibly changing body.

“its just.. so-”

“beautiful, perfect, gorgeoussss..” he lowly whispers, kissing your thighs after each compliment that sang from his twitching lips.

satoru always knew the perfect time to cut off your sentence that he just knew was gonna be something negative.

with him—he’s listened to you express about your stretch marks, or anything new appearing on your body, and every single time, he’d remind you of just how flawless you were - to him.

you moaned, looking down to see his crimson-pink lips halting from your aroused entrance, pressing dozens of wet kisses down each striping mark that stretched against the inner parts of your thighs.

his lips were so zealously soft, and each impact of the kiss had your heart fluttering in the same way a butterfly flapped its wings. satoru’s fluffed ivory tresses were still gripped tightly in your hand, and he could feel your hold lessening by the second.

“even if you may not like your body, i love it,” he murmurs lowly, closing his eyelids. “and i love you.”

your skin was burning up, probably hotter than before and your heart felt like it was about to burst out the middle of your rising chest. each beat was more powerful than the last, and you started to feel a tingle in your toes.

“but baby-” he continues, bringing the back of your hand toward his lips before giving it a chaste kiss.

“i hope you know that you’ve gifted me two children with this beautiful body,” satoru sighs, guiding his lips down the bottom of your tummy to shower a kiss there too. “i’ll remind you every day of why i love you ‘n your beauty marks if that’s what you want. besides! i’m growing some too heh-”

“ ‘toru-”

“starting now,” he coos hotly, trailing his kisses back down between the valley of your legs. “such a perfect body, can’t believe i get ‘ta call you mine,” and with one concluding kiss against your marks, he brings an eager closing kiss against your drooling cunt. “can’t forget ‘bout her too, my other pretty wet girl.”

whining, you felt an impatient heat pooling its way around inside of you. your legs started to quaver again, and you were feeling your jaw tighten before slacking. “sa- satoru, ‘m gonna .. cum,” you rawly mewl out, your grip on his hair tightening again like before.

pursing his thin lips into a straight line, he brings them back toward your pussy, sluuurping everything out of you whilst you’re nearly dragging his head back and forth against your dripping heat.

satoru’s stubble tickles against your folds and it cutely makes your legs twitch. with your ankles having a mind of its own, they wrap around satoru’s neck — keeping him in a lock.

“mmgh-” his white lashes remained shut as he cupped his lips with such intensity.

satoru’s chin was getting drenched with your mess, and he couldn’t care less. his head moves and moves, swaying frantically between your legs while forgetting to take a single breath.

you tasted like candy - equivalent like honey, and the tip of his tongue was adamant on slurping up any ‘n every single drop of nectar that dribbled from between your puffed slit. satoru’s always had a sweet tooth, and your cunt was the only treat he’d happily feast on all day long if he could.

“c’mon, pretty,” he huffs breathlessly, the button tip of his nose swiping its way down your clit. you’re so so close, and your orgasm’s just sitting on your maddened tastebuds.

as his head continues to ferociously bob between your shaky legs, you’re whining with those same sweet babbles and babbles of his name, begging for him to not stop. his tongue’s just covered with his sugary-tasting saliva���sticky webs gluing against the bottom part of his chin as he’s now buried nose deep.

“toru, satoruuu,” and its more of a pitiful battle cry.

the edges of his teeth softly nip against your cunt before his tongue lazily circles around your throbbing frenulum. an incoming prolonged moan gets caught in your throat as you feel his head tilting for a better angle. “cum- ‘m cumming, fuuuck!”

as your release was coming to its teetering demise, you were shrieking at the top of your lungs in overwhelmed pleasure.

satoru’s giving your labia its final sweet ‘lil wet sucks before feeling your legs weakly releasing its temporary lock around his head.

heavily, he’s panting sharply against your pussy before bringing a thumb toward the top part of your puffy nub.

satoru’s sloppily spreading it apart with a single finger, staring at the cute excited pulse that occurs from the very inside of your pussy.. “haah- good girl.” he praises, feeling you arch further once his drenched stubble scrapes against your crying entrance.

you’re wetter than ever - and satoru’s lips shined even brighter thanks to your treacly juices. passively, his reddened tongue chafed ‘n twirled ‘round inside of you, and as you’re still riding out your eye-boggling finish on his face, you grab him by the hair. “s- satoru, just.. hah- came.”

“mhm~” he clumsily falls face-first against your cunt, giving your teary folds a wet kiss.

smugly, he looks up at you with a slick chin before whistling against your clit. “phewww. did ya?” he grumbles, creeping a plump thumb near your puckering hole.

you clench at that, and he ogled as your tummy sinks inward. “fuck, s.. sooo damn pretty,” and as he gives your pussy a few departing french kisses, he sighs. “mmch-” he smacks his lips, and you stared as he swiftly removed his blindfold with one hand.

as you’re panting yourself, your legs remained spread.

still lying on his stomach, satoru brought his black blindfold up to his sneering lips before wiping it side-to-side, using it as a handkerchief.

“hah- wifey tastes as good as always,” he snickers, closing the gap between you two with his own body. as satoru’s towering figure falls against you, he brings a longing, silky peck to you before groaning against your trembling, kiss-swollen lips.

satoru awkwardly moves against you before mumbling out a few ‘f… fuck’ ‘s once he feels a certain something poke from the middle of his boxers.

he’s … hard.

you felt the bulge stick out of the cloth, pressing against your bare cunt — its hard to miss, and your hands instinctively reached for the knotted string of his pants.

“baby-” he bites his lip, feeling the tent prod wider. its almost painful, and he’s even starting to grind against your leg to ease the throbbing. “mmgh-” he goofily grins, his expression shortly switching to a look of lustful panic.

he’s been so focused on you that he didn’t even realize all this time—he’s had a raging boner that’s been aching for any sort of crumbs of attention.

“baby, were you working while being this hard?” you timidly murmur, watching as satoru’s face flushes with a burning tint of strawberry red.

“h.. heh. no silly,” lie.

satoru had a bit of a bad habit of randomly thinking about you - his adorable, sweet ‘n perfect wife while he was out fighting enemies.

sometimes, the longer he thought about you - the longer his problem got.

satoru brings a hand toward your right breast, and you gasped once he gives it a loud ‘popping’ suck. frosty-white strands of his hair drag against your skin as he’s slooowly running his balmy, hot tongue around your sensitive nipple.

you were still tender - not just anywhere but everywhere.

it’s fully marked a year since you had your second child, meaning that of course, your body would still be a bit sensitive in some places. places like your soft, rounded breasts—especially.

you moaned, feeling the tip of his drooling, wet tongue criss-cross its way around your perked areola. every suck suck suck pops out from his lips louder, and you start to play with his hair.

“s.. satoru,” you whined, a pout starting to display against your lips as he tended to each breast lovingly.

“i know.. i hah- know,” he breathes through rushed exhales, turning you on your side. “jus' wanted to make sure my favorite girls got some attention too.”

you felt the cool air whoosh against your skin at each second he released each nipple from his lips. it's brief - but quick, and satoru’s already got you pulsating. he’s flicking his tongue while fluttering his lashes at you, allowing clear driblets of saliva to drizzle from the cracks of his mouth.

you’re biting your lip the entire time as you held the back of his head close—hearing a bit of shuffling before satoru’s eyes trail down your fidgeting body.

so cute.

there’s a shiny sparkle in his eyes, it’s glimmer never faltering and he’s just falling in love all over again.

every moment he spent staring at you or your body, he felt that same lump forming in the back of his throat.

“ ‘s this comfy?” he wantonly purrs, caressing the bare flesh of your ass. you cling onto the pillow beside you before giving him a nod.

the slight shuffling you heard was from satoru. his sweats fell to the carpet floor with a loud thud, and his boxers shortly followed afterward.

finally - he could breathe.

his boner was just crying weakly, the tip feeling so hot as it had pearly-white globules of pre-cum wetly darting from all veiny sides.

sighing, satoru wraps a palm around his hardened cock before clicking his tongue while continuing to tease you. “ah- words, sweetheart. y’know how ‘ta use ‘em.”

“y- yes.” and with how whiny your words came out, you mentally slapped yourself.

satoru’s skin was just so close to yours - radiating hot waves of heat against your thighs. within seconds, he’s already enveloping you gradually with his embracing warmth.

pouting and all, you were steadily impatient, and he heard your cute ‘lil sighs of agitation repeating ‘till he lifted your leg.

sideways.

he was gonna take you sideways, and the single thought alone brewed up a flittering feeling of butterflies in your empty tummy.

“haah- missed you all day, have no idea.” satoru inhales through each nostril, bringing his cherry-capped tip towards your weeping entrance.

so … damn … soaked..

as he gawked, he could still taste the sugary-sweet remnants of your essence in his mouth, coating his lips like a natural gloss.

as you’re on your left side, your tits end up smushing against each other. it’s such a pretty sight too, ‘cause not even seconds later, you heard a raspy ‘ohhh fuck’ draw from satoru’s lips.

your pussy was just profusely leaking, and satoru’s holding back all hearty grunts the minute his swollen tip smacked its way against your lustrous-coated slit.

as it sops with nothing but runny molasses of your own colorless slick, your chest sucks in. “ ‘toruuuu, baby- fuckk. don’t tease me,” you’d whimper, quietly huffing at each commencing pap sound of his tip gently hitting against your folds.

he hums, hearing his wet you were - how sloppy you sounded.

satoru’s tip’s an angry red, fuming with a carmine flushing shade and he’s groaning once his vast thumb sinfully brushes past a prominent throbbing vein.

pulse after pulse after fuckin’ pulse, and you’re just making him harder.

“s… shit, you’re right. if i tease you, ‘m just gonna end up makin’ myself finish early, princess.” satoru diffidently chortles, and you hear the pathetic squelch of your pussy begging for him to just shut up and ease his way inside already..

finally - satoru’s making his way inside, ploddingly sinking a few inches inside.

with a few wet ‘fwop’ sloshes, he’s disappearing into you. like always, you’re hugging him tight - dependent on never letting him go.

your pussy’s warmth makes satoru’s glitzed lashes flap shut for a moment, and he’s kissing his teeth. your wetness was taking him to a whole new world almost. it’s almost entirely satisfying at how you’re just swallowing all hefty nth-inches like it was nothing.

as satoru’s trying to carefully fit his way in, he runs a hand down his tummy that’s growing a bit of a pudge. he was starting to develop a dad bod himself.

satoru was still very much fit, but as the years went on—he was eventually starting to get plump, more . . soft.

overtime, he liked being the little spoon in bed. he was really soft - identical to a teddy bear with strong arms wrapping around you. his favorite position to sleep would usually be with his head resting between your chest or on your stomach.

he’s got a trail of white hairs that sprinkled all across his chest like paint splattered on a canvas. a few hairs even made their way toward his chiseled v-line, dashing just below his pelvis. all over his body, he still had multiple scars—scars from countless battles, and he himself always found them unpleasant to look at.

but just like he did for you - you made sure to kiss all of his scars that decorated his skin.

you still felt his sharpened natural abs - they were just a bit softer though.

satoru grunts, stuffing a hand underneath the crack of your bent leg before he’s juuuust about bottomed out.

his rotund base was as full as it’s ever been, and he heard your cute gargled whines trying so hard to conceal themselves.

“hng- pretty mama, don’t . . do that,” he takes stingy puffs of air, gripping firmly against your skin. satoru’s brows come into a furrow, and with the final gushing ‘plap’ alerting you both that he’s stuffed balls deep, satoru phews. “i wanna hear ya, let me- hah- hear that pretty voice f’ me.”

“f- fuuuck.” you moan out, your entire steady body becoming unstable, wriggling like jello with just a single rigid thrust.

satoru’s tip is always nice and wide, and it curves its way around your insides before expanding further and further.

with your leg bent at a near-perfect ninety-degree angle, he’s got you right where he wants you.

his dick’s sliiiiding in and out, and fuck- you felt it all.

satoru’s leaning, still holding up your leg before grunting. your cunt’s oily wetness nearly drove him mad, and you’re just coating him with your slick through and through..

the achy muscles in his lower thigh muscles quickly clench, and satoru’s already starting to feel himself break a sweat.

fuck.

“ngh- ‘toru,” you’d whimper out rawly, the chords in your throat struggling to maintain their natural pitch. he’s just hitting you so deep, swabbing the tip of his cock around your pussy like a q-tip.

it was just so sloppy at how it swirled its way in a circle, leaving you nothing but goosebumps from the inside everytime. he’s deep, stuffing you full with all capped inches of his stretching cock.

as he’s sideways right with you—satoru’s skewing his hips a certain way just so you could feel each delicious pound.

if he kept jackhammering into you like that, you were sure you were gonna start drooling against your fleecy pillowcase within no time.

satoru’s sweaty fingerprints were practically glued in between the crevices of your held-up thigh, and he was letting off sharp raspy breaths after each stroke.

he’s full, groaning as his base thwacks its way back ‘n forth into your dripping pussy. the lewd sounds rang through the four thin walls of the bedroom, and you’re just faintly nibbling on your numbed tongue. “s- so full, mngh- right there baby. keep.. hah- fuckin’ me there.”

“god-” satoru leans in, his chest flatly pressed against yours. he helps you sit upright, and you can now crane your head slightly just to see him through your bleary peripherals again. “right here, princess? right .. fuckin’ .. here?”

he’s sloppily punctuating each thrust with his words that coarsely flew past his lips.

satoru’s shaft had the right kind of lean that made you gasp. the lazy, hanging curve of his cock dragged its way through your cunt and had you whining loudly, filling his ear with constant cacophonies of your cute ‘lil ‘pleaseplease’ ‘s, ‘yesyes’ ‘s, and his personal favorite, ‘satoruuuu.’

with your head vaguely turned, he leans in to kiss you.

it’s barely a kiss - more like a bumpy battle of teeth clashing, because with his delirious thrusts, you could hardly reach against his lips.

between kisses, you heard the mixture of wet moans and hearty ‘i love you’ ‘s fall past both shared lips.

satoru’s sly smile stretches across the corners of his mouth as he’s still pounding you into straight oblivion, making sure every single orifice of yours remembers any incoming inch of his.

“hngh- feels.. so hah- good, baby,” you’d babble, taking a few hastened milliseconds in between to breathe.

it felt like you were racing with your breath, forevermore losing.

satoru’s just ruthless - stretching you wholeheartedly as the bed underneath you both grunted in horror. its creaking competed with the headboard from above which was probably older than time itself.

with this particular angle, he’s hitting you even deeper, and you feel the buds on your tongue preparing to sodden with pools of rich, cloying saliva.

“sato- ah!” you squealed, growing cross-eyed for a second.

right there,

as satoru’s hand still clings onto the opening of your drooping thigh, his tip kisses a direct path near your cervix before that kiss turns into a thrusting smooch.

your mind’s just blank - fog surrounds it, and your voice starts to pitch higher. he’s hitting you there, and satoru hissed at the familiar spongy texture that was trying hard to clamp around him oh-so tight.

the feeling of melting-hot pressure from the very inside of your sopping core makes you let off a cute, ‘oooh’ as he shimmies his hips.

“toru don’t s- stop hittin’ there, please.”

“mng- there she is. found it, didn’t i?” his guttural voice murmurs.

panting harshly—satoru snakes a free arm around your waist, and he gently presses his palm against your belly.

sliding up up up, he adds just a wee bit more pressure to near the exact area he’s reaching inside of you.

his cock’s stupidly long, and it’s continuously locating all the right spots before your mind tirelessly shot blanks. as his dampened fingertips warily graze circles around your heaving tummy, he brings his glimmering lips up to the searing lobe of your ear.

“here, princess?” satoru huffs darkly, his breathing almost animalistic as he lifts your leg even higher.

as you’re sideways, you felt multiple inches of his cock steadily continue to bruise your cervix with a plethora of heart-felt, mean tip-kisses.

your eyes were bulging, lashes batting, mouth dangling wide open. “this is- hah- where you’re weak riiiight? this.. fuckin’ .. spot where ‘m hitting, oh fuckk-” he pauses, his nose wrinkling from the immense sliding stimulation.

“y- yes, there- fuck! ‘toruuu-”

it’s just soooo slick inside you, and satoru’s groaning all up against your ear.

“dirty girl. mngh- pussy can’t.. help but talk back. god, jus’ listen to her, she’s even singing for me ‘n everything. wettest lyrics of a song i’ve ever.. hah- heard,” and as if on cue, the sloshing sounds slosh even louder after each overzealous jam of satoru’s pivoting hips.

you’re stammering on your own words, choking on every shrilling whine and whimper that dared to tug away from your worn-out voice.

satoru’s dick knew each pressure point to hit too.

every. single. one.

after all, if it was anyone who knew your body - it was him.

that included bedaubing his crowned tip near erogenous places. satoru’s easing his way in and out, making not only your heart flutter but your insides too..

it’s one wet whack of skin against each other after another, and all you could do was clamp around his cock and take it like the good girl you were.

with your tummy heaving consistently, it’s doing nothing but sending a horde of nerves all through the axons and nerves that run through your body.

it’s sending staticky signals that are more than enough to make your brain lose a few circuits.

satoru’s berserk-like thrusts were at damn near lightning speed, and he was snickering at each whine that flew past your trembly-glossed lips.

“ ‘toruuuu,” you’d drag out his name, moaning once you felt a few of his thin fingers wisp down your back that’s starting to perspire with tears of sweat.

he’s stretchy, molding the inside of your cunt with each pump of his stiffening cock that’s drilling into your very core.

panting like a greyhound, you’re stunned for a second once satoru lets off a rough groan against the shell of your ear.

his mushroomy tip faultlessly smashed its way against and into your flittering cervix that felt almost heart-shaped—zigzagging its way down before smashing against that pulsating spot again.

he feels it and you feel it too.

“ngh- ‘m gonna cum again,” you’d mewl out, feeling the sliminess of both sweaty bodies slick against each other in raw harmony.

his ramming hips naturally arched into yours, deepening the steep angle even more before hearing you squawk out a tiny warning sob. “cum- ‘m gonna cum, sato—mmngh!”

as satoru’s still holding you from your side, you’re hit with a multitude of elated emotions. you’re clamping down on him tightly, feeling your legs grow limp within seconds.

sloppily, your pussy squeaking wetly between your open thighs as you cream all down his shaft, creating nothing more than a miry, slippery mess..

your cheek presses against the middle part of your pillow as you’re spasming underneath him, whining out the same ragged, incoherent babbles.

“satoru, s- satoru,” you’d coo out, hearing his huffing puffs of air from behind you.

satoru slows himself down, wrapping soft arms around your torso as you ride out your orgasm.

with your hips still feebly stuttering back against him—it left the sweetest taste in your mouth.

all over, you felt overly sensitive - and satoru could feel your body succumbing in pleasure and defeat within his firm hold.

he held you close, brushing a thumb around your navel before whispering murmurs of, ‘there we go’ ‘s or, ‘i gotcha,’ ‘s.

“fuck, such a good sloppy girl,” he flips you over, still entirely buried inside of your clenching cunt. satoru brings his quivering lips toward yours, giving you kisses before speaking in between rushed, humid smacks. “hah- you okay, princess?”

“mhm.” you nod, crawling your way on top of him. satoru has a sheepish grin, and he does a quick peer down at your body.

damn.

the first thought that would always pop into his mind whenever his eyes landed on you—his wife’s perfect body.

they’d trail down down down, stopping at your plush thighs before darting right back up towards your face. his thumbs gently caressed near the familiar marks that creased faintly against your thighs before he sneaks a kiss near your relaxing jaw.

“heh- think the missus is gettin’ a bit cocky today, no?” satoru jibes a toothy smile once he watches you straddle him, bringing an open palm to the left cheek of your ass, grabbing a bit of skin.

you nearly slipped off a sultry-sounding moan at his sudden touch but cutely grumbled, making him lie back with a flick of your finger before attacking the crook of his neck with wet kisses.

“oh.. my, aren’t you a frisky one today.”

“shut up, ‘toru.”

“hmph. you’re kinda mean when you’re horny, princess.. sexy.”

☆ ☆ ☆

it’s probably been hours - satoru’s had you in any and every position possible, showering every part of your body with its favorite combination of kisses ‘n compliments.

he just couldn’t help it.

especially when you just looked so effortlessly pretty like that underneath him.

currently, he had you in a mating press and oh-

as he’s on top of you—satoru gets lost in your lust-filled gaze. your eyes, they were like some sort of maze he could never find the exit from.

he’s much slower with his rhythm this time, cupping two palms underneath your thighs as he’s gradually feeding your cunt stroke after stroke. both pounds of skin ricocheted against each other, noisily papping as the clashing of grinding bodies continued.

your cunt’s just drooling, leaking with endless amounts of buttery clods of his sticky, hot cum. it dribbles out of your gummed slit, creating a frothy white ring around his base as his hips continue to wedge into your sopping wet pussy.

“ ‘toru- oh, satoru—ooh!” you’d squeal out, digging the edges of nails into his bare shoulder.

satoru’s grunting lowly against your neck, using a hand to bring both knees up to your chest. “haah- c’mon, princess. ‘m still not done fillin’ ya yet, gotta get this tummy nice ‘n plump,” and as his kiss-bitten lips hover against yours, he’s pouting.

satoru squeezes one of your tits before huffing. “these too. n- need to see ‘em full again, so fuckin’ full.”

satoru’s competing pitchy moans with you, each sound laced with nothing but lust and utter carnal desire.

from the inside, you had a sticky grip on him that had him utterly whipped.

satoru’s crimsoned tip spiraled its way around your cunt before sloppily thrashing its way against the convulsing nub of your pulsating clit.

leisurely, it batters its way toward that spot repeatedly until you’re just short-circuiting on his cock once again. “hngh- satoru, ohmygoddd,” you’d hysterically sob out, feeling his big hand cup underneath your chin.

your chin’s slick, and you were messily salivating a bit as he continued. moments later—satoru slips his middle finger inside of your mouth and you moaned, sucking it without a single given thought. “m- mhm.”

“good girl,” he groans, his thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier as his rickety pace picked up its quickening speed.

satoru’s hips were just downright rude, and he was just trying to savor each clasping clap of skin that he possibly could.

you looked so pretty with half-lidded eyes and webby clear strings of your saliva damply cascading down the sides of your lips.

“ ‘m gonna cum, sweetheart. you’re gonna . . hah- make me fuckin’ cuuum-” and you could hear solely from the tone of his voice, it was turning shaky.

each gasping syllable - it’s struggling desperately to hang on, faltering at each delivery of the next word that spills from his sleek lips.

“mng-” your moan, and satoru hummed before snatching his digit back from between your lips. he leans in to kiss you, delving his hot tongue straight into your mouth.

he’s hungry, demanding access as the tip of the pink muscle circles its way around the inside of your mouth.

it brushes against your flat tongue before his teeth greet your lips once more—giving it a needy ‘let me in’ gnaw. you part your lips so he could have more access, and satoru moans into your mouth.

“satoru, ‘m gonna cum too-” you breathlessly admit, briefly seeing splotches of white once your eyes mindlessly roll back on their own.

he’s so biiiig, stretching you to the very fullest ‘till the very end.

as your legs sporadically shook, you’re letting off sweet hurried gasps once you felt his cock expanding through your guts yet again.

you’re feeling butterflies scatter inside you everywhere, and not once did that familiar pool of heat sensation subside.

instead, it grows stronger and hotter, and you’re mentally fanning yourself as his engorged tip surprises your cervix for the umpteenth time.

it's constant - it happens more than once and it always always always feels like the first fuckin’ time.

his cock’s still leaking from his recent non-stop releases, and blood’s starting to rush to satoru’s head.

raucous, fast-paced breaths wafted against both opened mouths as satoru’s cock attentively drills into your inviting cunt at a more weakened speed.

he’s literally drowning in your pussy, your slick wetness his ultimate weakness.

as weak arms wrap around his neck, you brush a thumb down his undercut — earning a soft whiny, “h.. hey,” snatch from his lips.

satoru’s body was damn near smushed over yours nearly crushed you with his soft squishing weight.

still, though, he’s making sure to hover to where he wasn’t crushing you fully - having his rounded tummy grinding back ‘n forth against your body. as his body rubs its way onto yours after each stroke, you felt satoru’s noticeable happy trail tickle against the outer entrance of your cunt.

“ugh-” satoru sucks in a delayed breath, pressing his forehead against yours.

weakly, his knees began to fatally buckle as his nearly-drained cock’s still pushing its way through your squeezing pussy.

the build up of it all was just utterly blissful.

satoru’s shallow breath gets taken away from him like that, and he could feel himself going limp the microsecond his dick’s starting to spray inside you. “oh fuck, oh f- fuuuck.”

he grumbles, delicately sinking his teeth into your neck. he’s swallowing hard, losing all sorts of composure as his limbs start to quit functioning as if it was some sort of machine.

your finish shortly comes after too, but you end up gushing this time - and not just between your legs.

satoru hears your sweet surprised yelps before looking down, noticing your perked nipples were a bit more hardened than usual. they looked swollen - more plump than usual, and shiny.

you’re squirting down his cock, hearing the lewd squelches confirm that very fact as you even leak a bit from the centres of your nipples.

“holy shit-,” satoru blinks, and embarrassment interrupts your high almost right away.

your first instinct was to cover your face, and satoru leans in between the valley of your chest. your orgasm was so powerful that you ended up getting milked out yourself - literally.

cautiously, he slides his tongue around one of your nipples that’s dribbling with treacly dewdrops of white sweetness. it’s not even a lot, but it’s just enough because he purrs against your skin once the creamy taste hits the buds of his tongue.

“mmng-” and as he’s still pumping probably the fifth load into you, your cunt ends up clenching around him - wringing him so damn dry.

satoru’s taking turns sucking both of your plump tits, savoring the taste before his half-open eyes land on you.

he’s sloppy - encircling the tip of his sticky tongue over the ring of each tit before ‘popping’ one nipple after another from his lips.

satoru’s sweating, and he’s panting even more after your cute ‘lil outburst.

a gooey ring of cum bubbles around the thick base of his cock as he’s still stuffed inside you deep, but he wasn’t even thinking about that anymore.

sighing, he rubs the back pad of his thumb against one of your nipples that was still slightly leaking before he laps it right up, staring at you intently the entire time. his cum’s still spilling out, splattering on your tummy with his tip a fiery red.

“mmh, that’s hah- new. didn’t know you were still ah- leaking, princess. i have that much of an effect on you?”

“s.. shut up-” you moaned, your body still trying to get over its recent climax.

between the arc of your chest — you’re covered with sweat too. satoru hums to himself, tending to each breast before gently grabbing your chin.

“ ‘m guessing that’s a sign that you’re havin’ your seasonal baby fever again, yeah?” satoru smugly grins, feeling your body faintly twitching underneath him. “uh oh.”

his tongue against your tender nipples felt so good that it took you a while to generate a response in your brain that was just short-circuited completely.

deadpanning, you let off a grumbling, “obviously, satoru.”

“sorry, sorrrrry!” he huffs, pressing a kiss to your lips. you whimpered against his lips as his thumbs still tickled against each spurting nipple while his tongue curled around the inside of your mouth.

his touch was always soft, leaving you breathless every time.

your cunt’s overflowed with cum though - and even as his lips glued against yours, you could feel the slippery milky masses stream down from your slick, foaming against both pairs of stilled skin.

everything feels so hot - but satoru’s breath colliding against your tongue felt even hotter.

he’s just so enamored by you, and he can’t help but softly reach for your wrist.

“mng- satoru..” you whined against smacking pairs of lips, strings of loose saliva threatening to tear apart slickly.

“shh,” he whispers, breaking away from your lips to grab onto your hand.

he turns it around, bringing it toward his lips before pressing a single wet kiss against the back of your index finger.

there - your wedding ring beamed bright, brighter than any gem as his lips stamped against the tiny individual diamonds that made up the pricey rock.

you felt your heart flutter, watching silently as he starts to kiss your wedding ring again, again, and again, and again. .

“hah- that’s how many more babies we’re gonna make.”

one … two … three … f-

as you were trying to count in your head, satoru cheekily hummed before cocking his head. “heh, better get started.” and you moaned for a final time, hearing his cock wetly slide its way from your cum-filled cunt.

filthily, such creamed amounts ooze out of you and he hears the pretty sloshes commence not even seconds later. satoru then presses his silver wedding ring against your bare stomach before giving you one final kiss.

glancing up at you teasingly, satoru smacks the swollen crown head of his cock against your folds.

“now.. c’mon, mama gojo. upsie hah- daisy,” satoru throatily grunts, pushing your knees right back up to their initial position.

he just wanted to kiss the cute pout off your lips.

your thighs still shook—and satoru huffs heavily, bringing one hand to squeeze your breast, another easing his fat crowned tip inside of your sobbing pussy.

“let those legs stretch for me one more time. attaaaa girl. tha’s my girl-”

and as gojo leans in to press a soft kiss against your tummy, he hums.

“heh- we’ve got a loooot of mini gojos to make, mommy.”

[apatheticsunday]

Single Dad Dead on Main

AKA "Danny is the ghost-equivalent of a foster parent for de-aged Dani and Dan. Jason's just wondering who the hell these two feral meta children are." prompt idea!

Danny thinks he's doing an okay job at being a single dad of two. They're living in a quaint two bedroom apartment in Park Row, he's managing his Ghost King money well, and the kids haven't died (again). (He's definitely not getting a "World's Greatest Dad" mug anytime soon, but, hey, at least the house hasn't burned down yet!)

...Until he wakes up from his nap to an eerily silent apartment.

If there's one thing he's learned over the last few months, it's that silence is not good. He's scrambling off the couch fast enough to give himself a headache, practically flying down the hallway so he can get to the kids' room. Ellie is wedged halfway under her bunk bed. Dan's also squished under the bed but quickly squirms out when he realizes Danny's standing in the door way. He's holding... a socket wrench??

"...do I want to know what you two are doing?" Danny deadpans.

Ellie scrambles out as well, smears of something oily on her cheek. For a seven and eight year old, they have surprisingly convincing I'm innocent! expressions.

"I dunno," Ellie singsongs while Dan simultaneously barks, "Nothing!"

Danny squints. The kids squint back. Yeah, there's definitely something under the bed that's not supposed to be there. Since Dan's holding a wrench (and where the hell did he get that?? Danny doesn't even own any tools aside from maybe a little rubber mallet he found in the hallway closet), Danny hopes thinks it's not an animal.

It takes a minute of arguing in which Danny promises not to be mad, let them eat ice cream, and let them stay up an hour later than curfew for the kids to even let him near the bed without biting him. (Jokes on them, the ice cream is sugar free and Danny's going to reset the clocks to an hour before. Check and mate, bitch! Parenting is so easy.)

And then Danny pulls out... a tire. No, a rim. Two tire rims. Oh, Ancients. Engraved on the tire rim is a red Bat symbol. His stomach nearly drops to the floor; everybody in Crime Alley knows what the Red Hood's symbol looks like. "Eight Heads in a Duffle Bag," Crime Prince of Gotham with a gang big enough to take over all of Park Row. And yeah, Danny could easily beat the guy, but that doesn't mean he wants to. He doesn't want to uproot Dan and Ellie from their schools, move cities, run from yet another organization that wants them dead.

"How did you get this?" Danny asks, utterly dumbfounded.

"I dunno," Ellie says, just as Dan's saying, "Nowhere."

(Danny takes it back. Parenting is definitely not easy.)

"Danielle. Daniel. Where did you get these tire rims?" Danny asks again, more stern this time, to which he only gets shrugs. And that's when he notices the window is open and the screen his missing. "You're kidding me. Did you climb out the window? We're on the third floor!"

"We flew, duh." Ellie rolls her eyes, only shooting a wide-eyed, guilty look to Dan when he elbows her with a vicious shuddup!

"I-okay. Here's what we're going to do. We'll... just return the rims. It's not like the Red Hood saw you two steal them-," Danny stops when Ellie and Dan give each other a side-eye. He knows that look. It's the same look he and Jazz used to give each other when they had a silent agreement about something. Oh, no. No, no, no.

"...he didn't see you, did he?"

Another side-eye look. Oh, Ancients. At least there's no way the Red Hood knows where they are, right?

(Jason stares at the kids playing with his bike. He's not stupid enough to think they couldn't have been paid to sabotage it, but the way the little girl hikes herself up onto the seat and pretends to rev the engine makes him think otherwise. It's cute. The boy mostly seems interested in the engraved bat symbol on his tire rims, scraping at it like it's a 3D decal.

"I wanna be a bicycle-rider when I get bigger. I'll wear the jacket and everything!" The little girl laughs, deepening her voice before saying, "I'm a bicycle-rider! I'll beat you up!"

Jason snorts. He's leaning against the fire escape balcony overhead and it's dark enough for them not to see him, but they both freeze at the soft sound. When nothing happens, the kids relax again.

"It's a motorist, stupid. C'mon, help me take this off and I'll build you one."

"You wanna take the tire? Why?"

"'Cus of the symbol! It's the Batman symbol, do you know how scared people are of 'em? Show 'em this and nobody'll mess with us."

The kid's got a point. Crime Alley knows Red Hood's symbol like the back of their hand, but somehow Jason doesn't think rolling around a tire rim is going to have the same effect. Jason's about to step in when the kid bends the fucking metal with his bare hand. His fucking bike. It looks like the kid barely broke a sweat, too; just wiped his hands on his jeans and started prying apart front of his motorcycle.

Jason's voice is more biting than he means for it to when he shouts, "Hey!" He swings over the fire escape, landing with a heavy thud, before hauling ass towards the kids. Almost immediately the boy yanks the girl behind him and snarls... and his eyes go Lazarus-green. Jason stops abruptly. His voice is softer, gentler, when he tries again.

"Hey, kid. Don't you know not to go tearing apart people's bikes? C'mon, at least do it the right way."

That makes the boy pause, looking momentarily baffled and the green turning into bright blue. Jason takes that as an in and says, "Y'know, it's a lot faster when you use tools. I've got a wrench in my bag. If you use it like this..."

Jason spends the next thirty-five minutes helping the kids steal his own damn rims. He shouldn't. But he's curious about who these meta kids are and they're almost painfully easy to talk with, they just blabber like they've never heard of keeping a secret before in their lives. They talk about their dad, school, their favorite tv show. And then they talk about "the bad men" and Jason's stomach drops. "The bad men" who drive white vans, capture people, and experiment on them. And that sounds an awful lot like a meta-trafficking ring in his city, dead set on coming after the kids and their dad.

Then he's very, very grateful he's letting the kids take his rims home. After all, what Bat doesn't put GPS trackers in their symbols?)

[fix-me-sixteen]

how dare you forget to post this

There’s a possibility I forgot to post this. Um.

[yujisdreamgirl]

as the speakers blasted bass boosted music, you sit on the couch with a red cup in your hand, rationing the drink in it because you’re too afraid to go up to the bar alone.

it’s a bit crowded, your friends on the dance floor while you just watch other people rubbing up against each other. not an ideal way to spend your weekend when you have exams coming up but oh well, yolo.

you’re not much of a party person, well- you’ve tried to become one but it just didn’t work. not when it felt awkward to dance and everyone ignored you in conversations. you’ve never felt so unseen.

that was, until…

you felt the couch sink on your right side. you turn your head to see the one and only—“Most Popular” Playboy—Satoru Gojo.

you panic internally, why is he here?!

“hey,” you nod back in response to his greeting, visibly confused on why he’s talking to you—the girl he’s been basically in all of the same classes with since high school but has never uttered a word to?

“you here alone?” you hum in disagreement. he looks out to the crowd of dancers then back at you. “where are your friends?”

okay, now you’re really confused. why is he asking you all of these questions? is this a prank? “oh, uhm.. they’re on the dance floor.” he nods, then eyes your figure up and down.

“i like your ring, it’s from ‘Howl’s Moving Castle’ right?” your eyes light up, you definitely did not expect that. you stutter a bit before letting out a quiet mhm. he asked you to repeat it, and you just nodded. he smiles at you and suddenly you understand why every girl falls for— no, no. no you don’t. you’re not falling for this propaganda!!

“what other animes do you like?”

—

you step into the room upstairs, entering what looked and felt like being at an anime shop. blue walls, posters everywhere, displays of action figures in glass boxes… who knew this popular frat guy would be such a geek??

you spot various pieces of fiction, such as digimon, ghibli movies, 2000s romcoms, resident evil, and so much more!!!

“didn’t take you for a romcom guy.” he chuckles, sitting at the edge of his bed. “yeah, i don’t think anyone does.”

you hum then gasp at his displayed pokémon cards. “is that the pikachu illustrator?! how the hell did you acquire such a rare card??” he chuckles and explains how he got it, he’s rich obviously!

—

the night was long. the speakers still blare from downstairs, but you and gojo talked about the same interests for hours. this definitely wasn’t on your bucket list, ‘befriending’ the most popular guy in school history who also happens to be super similar to you??

in gojo’s eyes, he’s never met a girl like you. call him teruhashi from saiki k because everyone is all over him. he’s never even had a relationship or involved himself in hookups despite being known as a ‘playboy.’ but tonight.. tonight seemed genuine—like you’re not just another person who’s trying to get in his pants.

it can be tiring. despite there being people who would kill to be him, all he wants is someone he can settle down with for life. someone who’s not there for the money or the popularity, but for him. and that’s exactly how he feels about you. 4 hour conversations about films and niche interests? yes please.

his fantasy was cut off by the sound of a ringing phone—of course it was your friends. why did you have to leave the party just because they want to?

“i have to go, it was great talking to you though!” he grips the sheets as you smile, god you were adorable. he waves goodbye, sinking into the sheets as you closed the door behind you.

he’s definitely gonna search for you on campus tomorrow.

͙͘͡★ divider by @cafekitsune 🍡

[theorphicangel]

jjk men reaction to reader not wanting to stay over for the night

a/n: inspo by this cute tiktok :(((

modern au, no curses au

includes: gojo, geto, toji, nanami, sukuna

Gojo Satoru

You suggested a game night at his place, a reward for both you and him after a particularly busy work week. Tonight was the first time in a while that the two of you had seen each other, which is why it was so special for you to sleep over.

At least that's what Satoru thought until you pranked him by telling him you might go back home.

'I might leave in a bit, baby.'

'What?' Satoru was currently setting up the television, connecting it to the two game controllers.

'I said I might leave in a bit, maybe after fifteen minutes'

Immediately his face falls with his facial expression mirroring a kicked puppy. 'You're leaving? Why? I thought you wanted to sleep over?'

'Maybe not tonight, I'm tired.'

'But you brought your things over?'

'I changed my mind, toru, m'sorry maybe next time.

'But you can sleep in my bed if you're tired.' His voice is soft, paused with the game controller in his hand. His eyes glance over you, warm and tired. It's evident through his eyes that he really wants you to stay.

'But you promised to stay over so we can finally build our house on minecraft.'

'Toruuuu-' your heart melts and suddenly you can't take it anymore. 'I was joking baby, I'm not going anywhere.'

His face lights up, 'you were kidding?!'

You nod as satoru strides towards you, disregarding the two controllers in his hands. Immediately he's on top of you, pushing you down on the couch so you can't escape even if you tried.

Satoru places multiple kisses across your cheek, one right after the other, almost suffocating you. 'Don't ever do that to me again else l'll never let you leave.' he mutters before placing another kiss.

You giggle at satoru relentlessly placing kisses on your neck, 'I wouldn't miss out on building our minecraft house for the world.'

Geto Suguru

The two of you were sat in the kitchen, Suguru standing at the cooker making dinner for the two of you. Finally, the two of you had a clear schedule for the rest of the week to spend time together and what better than to spend a night together?

Sitting at the kitchen island, a video on your social media feed had come up of a girl pranking her boyfriend. It was a cute video and sparked your own curiosity to how your own boyfriend would react.

'Hey sugu, I don't think I'll sleep over tonight if that's okay.'

Suguru snaps his head over to you in disbelief. 'Really? but you brought all your things over?'

'I changed my mind, I'm kinda tired tonight.'

'right.' he mumbles, turning his head back as he prepares your plate.

You could only see his back but you knew that he was dejected. he was disappointed of course but he would respect your decision if you wanted some alone time. not a minute later, he heads your way setting down a plate of your favourite dish in front of you.

He takes a seat next to you with his own plate.

'I'll drive you back if you want.'

you nod, taking a bite of the food. you judge his expression and the way the crease between his brow holds. 'are you upset?'

Suguru is currently looking down at his food, a fork scraping at his place like a child who refuses to eat.

a pause. suguru bites down on his lower lip. 'yes, I wanted you to sleep over tonight. we could watch a movie or do whatever you wanted, it's been months since I've seen you.'

'it's been a few days, sugu'

'same thing princess.'

you let out a sigh, not able to take the scene of seeing your lover become so depressed. 'i'm kidding babe, it was a prank.'

with a smirk, Suguru finally stops poking at his food and takes a bite without restraint. 'I knew it.'

'Liar.'

'I was trying to make you feel bad.' he states, dark bangs falling over his eyes.

'Guess it worked huh?'

'You can bet it did.'

Nanami Kento

a movie played on the television screen, as you and kento snuggled on the couch. a blanket draped over you, laying on his chest and all your favourite snacks out on the coffee table was all you ever wanted.

about midway through the movie you remember that there was a prank you wanted to play on your boyfriend.

'hey ken.'

he hummed, vibrations traveling through your body.

'hey, I might leave in a few.'

'leave for what?' kento looked over at you, sat beside him on the couch.

'to go home.'

'right now? I thought you wanted to stay the night?'

'I did but I'm pretty tired, I'd rather sleep in my own bed i think.'

'oh right...okay.' he mumbles, his eyes are on the screen. he's tempted to pause the movie entirely wondering if there's something that's made you upset.

'are you sad that I'm leaving?' you ask sensing his hesitation.

'no.' kento pauses looking for the right words as he swallows. 'Maybe a little' he admits, 'I wanted to spend time with you.'

'we are spending time right now though?'

'is it selfish to ask for a little more time with you?' he asks, his cheeks flushing pink slightly.

'oh right, I was kidding by the way, I'm not leaving.'

'you and your pranks will kill me will kill me one day, d'you know that?'

you grab a hand that's around your waist and place a kiss on his knuckle as a reward for putting up with you. 'I knowwww, sorry love.'

Toji Fushiguro

'I think I might head home now.' you announce, standing up from the couch after hours of watching shows with toji. empty beer cans and opened bags of popcorn were messily distributed on the coffee table in front of you.

Toji was laid beside you, on the verge of falling asleep as the credits begin to play at the end of an episode. the two of you were binge-watching a show that had come out recently, currently on the last but one episode.

'what was that doll?' he thinks he must have misheard you.

'I said I think I'm going to head home, I'm pretty tired.'

For extra effect you head towards his apartment door, slipping on your shoes and making the move to grab your jacket and keys.

Whether it was at the jingle of your keys or the meaning of your words finally beginning to kick in, Toji was suddenly up and off the couch catching up with you.

'what do you mean home.'

'my home.' you emphasise, putting on your coat. 'my apartment, the one twenty minutes from here.'

in a blink of an eye you felt your wrist enwrapped in his large hand with the other at your waist guiding you backwards until you hit a wall.

Toji leans in, trapping you between his large figure and his wall. as he speaks you notice the scent of beer leave his mouth. his tone is dark and husky yet his eyes glow with emotion at the thought of you leaving.

'Thought you wanted to spend the night with me hmmm? You were the one complaining about not seeing me enough and now it's too much?'

you stammer, your brain completely blank at the tone of his words.

'It's too late to go back by yourself anyways plus we haven't finished the show.' his voice is low, sending vibrations through your body.

'I thought you weren't watching, you fell asleep.'

'almost.'

Toji's hands slowly peel away your coat from your body, 'I can help you change your mind if you're still thinking of leaving.' he suggests and your face heats up at his seduction.

'I was joking, I'm staying. just making sure that you were really awake.' you meet his eyes, allowing them to melt into yours.

without a warning you're suddenly hoisted over his shoulder and toji marches you back to the couch.

'a joke?...right...'

'put me down!'

'funny that you thought I'd ever let you leave anyways.' Toji places you down on the couch and you let out a huff.

you look up at him, your eyes challenging. 'was that a threat?'

'it's a promise doll.'

Sukuna Ryomen

'I think i'm going to leave soon.'

Sukuna's head snaps towards you, his attention directed towards his phone now interrupted by your statement. the two of you were, at least in your words, cuddling in bed. an arm wrapped around you whilst the two of you scrolled on your phones.

'where the fuck are you going?'

'Home. Where d'you think?'

'Why?' Sukuna mutters, caught off guard by your words.

'because I'm tired.'

'sleep in my bed then, you're here for a reason.'

'I want to sleep in my bed.'

'what's the difference? my bed is bigger than yours.'

'I like my bed.'

a pause occurs, the two of you maintaining eye contact.

'so you're going to go allll the way back home because you like your bed.'

'yes kuna'

'what about your shit that you dragged here?'

you shrug 'I'll take it with me.'

'And how are you going to get back?'

'drive me.'

Sukuna lets out a loud laugh.

'Uber then.'

An even louder laugh escapes from his mouth. 'you're not leaving.'

'I am, what are you-'

your words are cut off as Sukuna lunges towards you, suddenly straddling over you. you couldn't move even if you tried.

'kuna! what are you doing?'

'you're not leaving, it's late.'

'but I-'

'and you're not leaving because you asked to stay over in the first place, you'll get what you wanted.'

'it was a prank!' you admit, suddenly giving up to sukuna's demeanor.

'good you're sleeping here anyways.' he deadpans.

'I was always planning-' 'no excuses.'

thank you for reading!!

reblogs and comments are always appreciated.

[skzophreniic]

⍣ ೋ cw: soft pregnancy mention, implied smut, post-sex intimacy, emotional vulnerability, chris being extremely down bad, light humor, and overwhelming tenderness.

notes: in which you finally tell chan about your unexpected pregnancy.

The nausea comes in waves. Not sudden, but rising — quiet and cruel.

You slip out of bed on instinct, careful not to stir him. The room is dim, still painted in that pre-dawn blue where shadows blur soft against the walls. The floor’s cold under your feet, the silence heavier than usual.

You close the bathroom door behind you, but not fast enough to hide the sound.

You barely make it to the toilet.

Your body folds in on itself as you retch, one hand clutching the edge of the counter, the other pressed to your mouth. Your throat burns. Your eyes sting. You’re trembling again, just like yesterday. Just like every morning this week.

And you know exactly why.

But you haven’t told him.

Not yet.

The door clicks gently, and before you can even call out, he's there.

“Baby?” Chris’s voice is thick with sleep, curls still mussed, but his worry is immediate. 

He steps into the bathroom, barefoot and blinking against the light. You don’t turn around, can’t—your cheek is pressed to the cool porcelain, eyes shut tight, trying to keep the tears at bay.

You hear him crouch beside you. Feel the warmth of his palm, tentative but steady, on your back.

“Hey, hey…” he whispers, thumb rubbing soft, slow circles between your shoulder blades. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

You hate how kind he is. How easily he forgives the way you’ve been pulling away lately—your silence, the distance you keep curling between your bodies each night. You hate it because he still looks at you like you haven’t broken his heart in quiet, accidental pieces.

Like you haven’t been lying by omission.

“I’ll get you some water,” he says, already standing. But you reach back blindly, fingers clutching at his wrist.

His movement stills the second you touch him.

Your fingers curl weakly around his wrist, barely more than a brush, but he stays rooted like you’ve anchored him. He sinks back down beside you without hesitation, knees to the cold tile, one hand steadying you while the other moves to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Okay,” he murmurs. “I won’t go.”

Your fingers slip from his wrist to his forearm, anchoring there. Not tight, not pleading. Just... needing something solid. He shifts closer, gently tucking you against him, and you let him—half-curled over the toilet, cheek pressed now to the curve of his shoulder instead of cold porcelain.

It’s shameful how good it feels.

How much you missed him.

How much he still makes space for you, without question.

You breathe him in. Warm skin, sleep-soft cotton, the scent of dreams not yet dissolved. His hand returns to your back, tracing the same slow circles, patient and gentle. He doesn't rush you. Doesn’t push. Just stays.

A lump rises in your throat. You swallow it back down.

“You’ve been sick a lot lately,” he says quietly. “And I—I didn’t want to push, but… I was starting to worry.”

You close your eyes.

Tighter.

Like you can hold the truth inside your chest if you just try hard enough.

“I didn’t want you to worry,” you manage, voice paper-thin.

Chris lets out a small, broken exhale—half a laugh, half a sigh. His thumb is still tracing that same small circle on your back, over and over like a ritual.

“Too late, baby,” he says. “You know me. I worry when you don’t text back for ten minutes.”

You breathe out a tremble of a laugh. It barely escapes you.

He pulls you in a little more, his shoulder now against your cheek, his arm curling around your waist, like he could take this ache from you if you just let him.

“Come on,” he whispers. “Let’s get off this floor, yeah?”

You don’t protest. You let him help you up, let him walk you slowly back to bed. He moves around you like instinct — pulling the blankets over your legs, smoothing your hair back, propping a pillow behind your back like he knows how this all goes. Like you’ve always been this breakable.

He disappears into the kitchen, and you hear the kettle click on. The cupboard door. The soft clink of ceramic. It’s the kind of intimacy you never thought would undo you.

When he returns, he’s carrying a steaming mug. He sets the tea down, crawls in beside you, and tugs you gently against his chest. You go without hesitation this time. Your cheek finds his collarbone. His heartbeat is steady.

“Try to sip,” he murmurs, guiding your fingers to the mug. “Ginger and honey. Helps settle the stomach.”

You take a shaky breath. Sip once. Then again.

He strokes your arm, still not asking what’s wrong. Still just being.

“I don’t deserve you,” you whisper, the words too fragile to carry.

Chris doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t argue. Just presses his lips to your forehead, eyes closed.

“You’ve got me anyway.”

You hold the tea with both hands, and before you can stop yourself, before you can weigh the moment, it falls out—

“I’m pregnant.”

A beat.

Then two.

His breath catches just slightly. You feel it in the way his chest stills beneath your cheek.

“Yeah?” he says, quiet.

He doesn’t sound shocked.

Not really.

You feel his hand pause where it rests on your arm. Not jerked away, not pulled back—just still. Still like he’s been waiting for this. Still like he already knew.

You pull back just enough to look at him.

His face is soft in the low light. No widening of the eyes, no sharp intake of breath, no panic. Just a quiet kind of calm. Like he’s been holding this truth behind his teeth for days.

You blink. “You’re… not surprised.”

Chris gives you a small, lopsided smile, and there’s something tired in it. Something knowing.

“I kind of figured.”

You freeze.

Chris shifts slightly, just enough to press his lips to your temple. 

Your fingers tighten around the mug. “You… what?”

“I’ve known for a little while,” he says, and there’s no accusation in it. Just fact. “Not for sure, but… yeah. I knew.”

You pull back slowly, just enough to look up at him. His eyes meet yours, gentle and tired and a little sad around the edges.

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

Chris exhales through his nose, brushing a thumb along your jaw. “Because I wanted you to tell me when you were ready. And if you never were—” he swallows, voice thickening, “—I figured I’d wait anyway.”

You stare at him. Your chest aches. He’s holding you like you haven’t broken his heart a hundred times over by keeping this to yourself.

“You should’ve been mad,” you whisper. “I pulled away. I lied. I let you think something was wrong with us.”

He shakes his head, thumb still moving, like he’s trying to wipe the guilt from your skin. “You didn’t lie,” he says softly. “You were scared. That’s not the same thing.”

“But—”

“Baby.”

The word silences you.

He shifts closer, rests his forehead to yours. The kind of closeness that feels like home, like breath shared between ribs.

“You’re pregnant,” he says quietly, like he’s still wrapping his heart around the truth. “That’s huge. That’s life-changing. You didn’t owe me a perfect response to that.”

Your eyes fill again. The tears this time are different—no longer the kind that come from fear, but from the ache of being known, and loved anyway.

“I didn’t want you to be disappointed,” you breathe.

Chris huffs a sound that’s half a laugh, half a sigh. “Disappointed?” He leans back, just enough to look at you fully. “Sweetheart, I’ve been walking around for the last two weeks trying not to hope too hard. Every time you flinched at the smell of eggs, I thought I was going to lose it.”

You blink.

He smiles, slow and tender. “I started carrying extra granola bars in my bag like some kind of dad training simulation.”

A laugh breaks from you, wet and surprised and a little wild. He kisses the sound off your cheek.

You want to believe him. God, you do.

But it still claws at you — the weight of it. The impossibility. The quiet voice that’s been whispering the same thing over and over since the first test turned positive.

Your laughter fades as quickly as it came, and you drop your gaze, fingers twisting in the hem of your shirt.

“But your career…”

The words are quiet. Almost too quiet. Like you’re afraid of waking something up by saying them aloud.

Chris stills.

You press on, slowly. “You have enough on your plate already. The tours. The schedules. The pressure. I didn’t want to be the reason everything got harder. I didn’t want you to feel… trapped.”

His face folds in on itself, soft and stunned, like your words physically knock the wind from him.

“Trapped?” he echoes. “Is that what you thought I’d feel?”

You swallow hard, shrugging helplessly. “You’ve worked your whole life for this. And I know what it looks like from the outside — you, me, suddenly pregnant in the middle of everything. Headlines. Rumors. People blaming me for pulling focus. I just… I didn’t want to be a detour.”

Chris is quiet for a moment. Not the kind of silence that stretches with tension, but the kind that holds something. Thoughtfulness. Heartbreak. The ache of someone hearing what wasn’t said aloud.

Then, softly:

“You think I care about headlines?”

You open your mouth, but he doesn’t give you the chance.

“You think I’d let any of that matter more than you?” His voice breaks—just enough to make your eyes sting again. “I don’t care what the outside looks like. I care about you. About the way you’ve been hurting and hiding it. About how you’ve been carrying all of this alone.”

He sits up a little straighter beside you, pulling your hands into his lap, like he needs to anchor both of you to the moment. His thumbs rub over your knuckles, steady and warm.

“I didn’t spend all this time building something just to let it become a cage,” he says. “I built it so I could choose what matters.”

Your lip trembles. You want to crawl into his words and never leave.

“I want this baby,” he says simply. “And I want you. And if that makes everything harder, then so be it. I’ve never been afraid of hard things. Just losing you.”

You press a shaky hand to your mouth, trying to bite back the sob threatening to rise.

Chris leans in, gently tugging your hands away to cup your cheeks.

“I love what I do,” he whispers. “But I love you more.”

And then, softer still—

“Let them talk. Let the whole world think what they want. I’ll hold your hand through every bit of it. I’ll shout it from the rooftops if that’s what you need.”

You break.

You fall forward into him and he catches you instantly, wrapping you up in the kind of hold that feels less like comfort and more like coming home. He rocks you slowly, like you’re something precious, and murmurs nothing but love into your hair until the shaking stops.

Neither of you speak for a while. Not in words. Just the rhythm of breath shared, the way his thumb never stops moving across your spine, the quiet tremble of your body as it starts to finally release the weight it's been holding for too long.

Eventually, you shift just enough to look up at him, eyes red and swollen.

“You’re really not scared?” you whisper.

Chris smiles. It’s tired, but steady. Steady in the way he’s always been.

“Oh, I’m terrified,” he says with a soft laugh. “But I’m not scared of us.”

His words settle into the quiet like a promise, like a hand pressed to a wound. Not to hide it—but to hold it. To keep it warm. To let it heal.

“I’m scared of screwing it up,” he admits. “Of not knowing what I’m doing. Of forgetting diapers at three in the morning and dropping the car seat manual in a puddle.”

You huff out a shaky laugh.

“But I’m not scared of loving you through this. Of being here. I want to mess it up with you. I want the sleepless nights and the ugly furniture and the weird little onesies your mom’s definitely going to send.”

You let your eyes close for a moment, breathing in the space between you. The safety of it. The calm after the unraveling.

Chris shifts behind you, easing both of you down beneath the covers again. His arms wrap around your waist from behind, palm splaying gently over your stomach—hesitant at first, then firmer, like he’s grounding himself to what’s real.

To what’s already begun.

“I don’t know how to do this,” you murmur, voice muffled against the pillow.

“Neither do I,” he says. “But I think we’ll figure it out. Together.”

His thumb draws soft, mindless circles against your skin. You can feel his breath on your shoulder, warm and even.

“We’re gonna be so bad at swaddling,” you whisper after a moment.

Chris snorts into your hair. “Horrible. Absolute disaster.”

“They’ll probably pee on us within the first ten minutes.”

He laughs again, and it rumbles through you like something holy.

“You mean they won’t wait twenty?” he teases. “Already disappointed in our future child’s manners.”

You smile. Not because the fear is gone. Not because it’s easy now. But because he’s still here. Still him. And somehow, even in the dark—especially in the dark—he’s made space for all of it.

You roll slightly, enough to face him, and he meets your gaze instantly. His eyes are red at the corners too, but soft. So soft.

You reach for his hand again. 

He gives it without hesitation.

______________________________________________________________

The sheets are still warm.

They’re tangled around your legs, half-forgotten, pulled low from where Chris tugged them back earlier in careful haste—like he couldn’t wait another second to feel you again. To love you the way he’d been aching to for weeks.

But it had been gentle. So slow. So careful it almost hurt.

He’d kissed you like he was scared you’d break beneath him. Like every part of you needed to be cherished differently now—worshipped not just because he loved you, but because you were carrying something he already did.

Now, the room is quiet again.

Not the sharp quiet from earlier—the kind lined with secrets and held breath. This silence is sweeter. Fuller. The kind that lingers in the air after closeness, after truth, after love has been made and remade and made again.

You lie curled in the sheets, his hoodie pooled beneath your head like a pillow, your body still humming from the weight of him—on you, in you, with you.

Chris is beside you. Propped on one elbow, hair a mess, eyes soft in the gold light pouring through the window.

He hasn’t stopped touching you.

His fingertips skim the slope of your stomach—slow, aimless strokes over skin still too tender. He traces the curve like it’s already changed. Like he can already see the future stretching beneath your navel.

“You sure you’re okay?” he murmurs, for the third—maybe fourth—time.

You smile, eyes fluttering closed. “I’m okay.”

“Did I hurt you at all?”

You open your eyes again, shifting to face him more. He looks almost pained asking it—like he’s still afraid he was too much, even though every touch had been measured, every motion guided by whispered I love yous and soft gasps.

You reach up, fingers brushing through his hair—so soft, still sleep-mussed, still clinging to last night’s weight. His eyes flutter at the contact.

“You didn’t hurt me, Chris,” you say gently, your thumb sweeping across his temple. “You couldn’t have. You were…” You pause, cheeks warming. “You were so good to me.”

He leans into your touch like it’s instinct, nose nudging your palm, lips brushing the edge of your wrist. “I just didn’t want to rush anything,” he mumbles. “I didn’t want to take from you.”

“You gave to me,” you correct quietly. “More than you know.”

His gaze finds yours again. And it’s so open—so filled with something fragile and gleaming that it nearly knocks the breath from your lungs.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to be careful with someone the way I want to be with you,” he murmurs, hand still slow on your stomach. “Like every piece of you deserves a softer kind of love.”

Your throat tightens, eyes stinging with the tears you thought you’d already run out of. You don’t speak. You just lean forward and kiss him—soft and close and wordless. A promise.

When you pull back, Chris smiles, all crooked and boyish, like it still surprises him he gets to kiss you whenever he wants.

“Do you think…” he starts, then hesitates, biting down on his lower lip in that familiar way he does when he’s about to say something that scares him. “Do you think they can hear me yet?”

You blink. “Hear you?”

He shrugs, flushing a little. “I don’t know. Maybe not hear, but like—feel me.”

You smile, hand still resting over his where it sprawls protectively across your belly.

“I think,” you say, voice soft with wonder, “if they feel anything at all, it’s love.”

Chris lets out a slow breath, almost like a laugh, almost like a prayer. “Good,” he murmurs. “That’s all I want them to feel.”

And then he lowers himself again—carefully, reverently—so his face is level with your stomach, his curls brushing your skin. You feel his breath before his lips, warm and tender, and then—

“Hi,” he whispers. “It’s me again.”

You bite back a watery smile, brushing his hair back from his face. He doesn't look up. He’s focused, eyes closed, words blooming straight from his heart.

“You’re still tiny,” he says. “Probably the size of… I don’t know. A peanut? A lentil?”

You laugh softly. “A blueberry, I think.”

Chris grins against your skin. “Okay. Hi, blueberry.”

The tears return, but this time they don’t sting. They soothe. You let them fall.

Chris presses another kiss, slower this time. “Your mom is amazing. She’s strong, and patient, and really stubborn when she wants to be—don’t get any ideas—but she’s also the kindest person I’ve ever met. And she loves you already. So much.”

You can’t breathe. Or maybe you just don’t want to—don’t want to disturb the moment, the hush in the room, the way it feels like the world has paused just to let him say this.

“And I love you, too,” he adds, softer now. “Even if you’re already making her throw up every morning.”

You snort.

Chris finally looks up at you, face glowing with something boyish and stunned. Like he’s still adjusting to the weight of the word dad and how it might belong to him now.

“Do you think it’s okay to be happy yet?” he whispers. “Or is it too early?”

You blink, startled by the softness of the question. It’s not a doubt in you. It’s a doubt in himself—the way he was used to waiting for the world to collapse anytime something good entered the picture.

You tilt his face fully toward you, one hand on his cheek, the other still resting over his on your belly.

“It’s okay,” you whisper back. “We’re allowed to be happy.”

Chris leans into your palm, lashes kissing your skin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “Even if it’s early. Even if it’s messy. We’re allowed.”

A long breath leaves his chest. When he exhales, it sounds like something unknots inside him.

“Okay,” he says. And then again, firmer: “Okay.”

He kisses your belly once more—then your ribs, then your shoulder, and finally your lips, slow and sure and lingering like he’s learning the shape of this new beginning through you.

Your breath catches.

Because there’s something different in this kiss—less cautious than before, less tentative. Still tender, still full of awe, but threaded now with a kind of ache. A hunger not for your body, but for closeness. For reassurance. For the promise of you and him and this tiny, impossible future you’re building together.

You kiss him back. Let your hands curl into the soft cotton at his shoulders, let your mouth part beneath his. He deepens it without a word, like your response is all the permission he’s ever needed.

Chris exhales against your lips, the sound low, almost relieved. His hand slides from your belly to your waist, guiding you gently onto your back, careful not to press too hard, like he’s still remembering how much softer the world has become.

You pull him with you, fingers in his hair now, breath mingling as he settles between your legs, his weight familiar, comforting. Not heavy—never heavy. He’s holding himself up even now, even in this, like you’re precious. Like he can’t risk the smallest part of you going untouched, unnoticed, unloved.

His kiss grows slower. Deeper. Tongue brushing yours, mouth warm and open and wanting, but not hurried. Nothing about him is hurried. He maps you like he’s memorizing—not rediscovering your body, but learning what it means now, with the quiet miracle curled inside you.

His palm returns to your belly halfway through the kiss.

It lingers there.

Anchoring.

You feel his hips roll, subtle and restrained, like he can’t help it—but even that is tempered by reverence. He groans softly against your lips and pulls back just enough to rest his forehead to yours.

“I want you again,” he murmurs, breath catching. “So bad.”

You smile, brushing your nose against his. “We just had sex, Chris.”

“I know,” he groans, dragging his lips down to your jaw, your neck, your shoulder—soft little kisses like he’s trying to keep himself distracted. “It’s not my fault. You’re literally glowing. Like… it’s actually not fair.”

You laugh, tilting your head to give him more space. “I think that’s just the sweat from me throwing up three times this morning.”

“Nope,” he says, grinning against your collarbone. “Sorry. Pregnancy glow. Hormones. Boobs. All of it. My brain’s broken. I’m ruined.”

You snort. “Are you seriously saying I got hotter now that I’m pregnant?”

Chris lifts his head to look at you, eyebrows raised, completely unapologetic. “Yes. Have you seen yourself? You’re radiant. Divine. A walking goddess with a baby growing inside her—my baby, by the way. Do you have any idea what that does to me?”

You blink at him, stunned and absolutely flustered. “Chris—”

He groans dramatically and drops his head to your chest. “You don’t get it. I’m suffering.”

You wheeze a laugh, your fingers threading through his hair again.

He looks up at you, eyes wide, completely serious now. “Every time you move I want to pounce. But I can’t. Because I am a gentleman. A respectful, self-restrained—” he kisses the top of your belly, “—incredibly patient father-to-be.”

You grin. “Uh-huh.”

His hand slides up your thigh, just high enough to make your breath hitch. “But if you even so much as breathe wrong, I’m folding.”

“Chris—”

“I mean it. One little sound. A sigh. A whimper. I’m gone.”

Your laughter breaks loose then, full and warm and aching at the edges. He kisses you hard, almost like he’s trying to prove his point—like he's sealing the moment in his mouth before it gets the better of him.

His hands are definitely not innocent anymore.

“Okay—okay,” he says, breathless, forehead against yours again. “I have to get up. I have to. You need food. I need distance.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, not letting him go. “You sure?”

He groans into your shoulder. “I’m going. I'm going. But I’m leaving in emotional pain.”

You release him with a teasing little kiss. “Breakfast, dad.”

Chris smirks as he finally sits up, eyes sweeping over you one last time before he swings his legs off the bed. “Fine. But you better be decent when I come back or I’m canceling breakfast and blaming the baby.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

And with that, he trudges toward the kitchen in his boxers, muttering something about toast and torture under his breath.

You melt back into the sheets, laughing, heart pounding, belly warm—and for once, everything feels exactly, impossibly, beautifully right.