#i keep getting amused each time i think about it

[vickymura]

PAIRING ~ bf!nrk x gf!reader

SUMMARY ~ riding riki's abs cuz he's too damn hot doing crunches.

GENRE ~ smut, pwop(?).

WORD COUNT ~ 1.302k

ᯓ★ love the banner for this ngl. not my best work:( but it was requested so here

visiting your boyfriend's apartment to be met with the sight of him shirtless, doing crunches in his room was definitely a welcome you'd want to see more often.

you'd blame ovulation, but something about seeing the beads of sweat dripping down the pattern of his abs made you feel a certain tingle in a place sinfully up between your legs.

with a cool facade, you flashed a soft smile, settling your bag down in its usual place and unwrapping the winter layers you had on. “working hard, huh, riki?” you teased, but it was mostly just a mere attempt of hiding and distracting yourself from your fluster and desires.

"mm." he responded with the short, low hum that you couldn't decipher as a yes or a no. his breath came out in rhythmic puffs, hands clasping each other as he pushed himself up and down. he wasn't exactly talkative when he was 'in the zone', but the hint of a smirk curled on his lips as he looked up at you. "you're just on time. i was getting lonely." his little complaint earned a mostly playful scoff from you. “geez, i was gone for one hour because somebody refuses to be a grown up and get their own groceries.” 

having had familiarity with his bedroom, you made your way to sit on the edge of the bed beside where he was on the floor without having to look up.

he groaned as he sat up, rolling his head from side to side to ease the strain in his neck, flexing his abdominal muscles by accident as he did. "mm. i hate grocery shopping." he retorted back quickly, his eyes settling on you. his gaze was intense, filled with a bit of annoyance and something else, something that you knew from experience would lead to your clothes being tossed to the floor in a messy pile.

with his new position, came the delicious little sight of his sweaty strands of overgrown bangs sticking to his forehead, his glistening flexed muscles and the naturally prominent tent in his gray sweats.

you cleared your throat, ‘discreetly’ looking back up at his eyes.

“you’re just too childish.” you countered, ending your sentence by hypocritically sticking out your tongue in a childish manner.

he rolled his eyes at that, the smirk on his lips growing a bit wider as he rose to his feet, taking slow and deliberate strides towards you. he towered over you, forcing you to look up in his eyes as he stepped between your legs, pinning you against the edge of the bed with his arms on either side. "mm, really." he chuckled at that, his eyebrows raising. "keep sticking your tongue out like that and i'll find a better use for it."

oh, he knew what he was doing. you swallowed thickly at the implications of his words, but scoffed sassily. but god, his abs were right there, in front of your face, glistening in a way that made you wish it was something other than his sweat.

“whatever. you’re sweaty and stinky, go take a shower.” it was a lame excuse, but at that point you’d try every bit you could to escape the situation.

riki chuckled again, amused at your attempt to keep him from sensing how his very presence was already making you want to throw your clothes off. he leaned in close, so that his nose was practically grazing yours. "that doesn't sound like the nicest thing you could say to your boyfriend who's been working so hard in the hot summer heat, now does it?" he teased back, a smirk on his lips and an obvious mischief in his eyes.

“and what do you think is the nicest thing i should say to my oh-so hardworking boyfriend?” you immediately snapped back, an edge of annoyance forming in your tone, thanks to his teasing. 

he was absolutely infuriating, and all while looking so damn sexy that it drove you crazy in all the best ways.

he chuckled again, enjoying the smartassery you continued to try and push past his guard. riki pressed a light kiss to your forehead before giving you a response. "something... less rude." he stated simply, his hands gripping the edge of the bed now, caging you in. "like... i don't know, like…” he leaned in close to your ear, his body gently pressing itself against yours. "i think it should've been more along the lines of 'oh my handsome boyfriend, you're working so hard. let me help you relax~'"

you let out a scoff-like chuckle. he was really pushing it out of cockiness of having the upper hand and your admiring gaze here, wasn’t he? “self-indulgent much?” "damn right." he shamelessly said, his voice dropping an octave, eyes locking onto yours. "very." the smirk on his face curled into a half-smirk, his hot breath tickling your skin. his hips pushed against yours, his hands still on either side. "i want to be a little selfish right now."

you hummed, spreading your legs wider to incorporate his larger frame. with the decision to indulge in his little game, you questioned, “selfish how, hm?”

riki's smirk only widened as he settled between your legs, a hand gently taking your chin and forcing your gaze to remain locked on his. "in a lot of ways." he responded, his other hand gently gripping your thigh. "one of them being a nice reward for working so damn hard."

“i have a different proposition.” you suddenly interrupted, your tone one he couldn’t recognize. without giving him time to reply, you continued, “i have a very selfish desire, myself.”

his smirk widened again, his head inching closer like a lion nearing his prey. his eyes had a fire burning behind them, a sort of intense desire that you knew only led somewhere hot and messy. "oh yeah?" he responded, that hand that was gripping your thigh running up a bit. "and what's this 'very selfish' desire of yours?"

one thing led to another, and the next thing he knew- you were sitting on riki's muscular abdomen, hands on his chest as you coated his abs with your slick.

his hands moved to grip your hip instead, digging his nails in as guided your movements against his flexed muscles. he wore a lazy smirk on his lips, bringing one of his hands to make circular motions on your clit.

“fuck..” you cried out in pleasure, frantically riding on his abs like your life depended on it.

“you feel good baby? don’t even need my cock to get off anymore.. greedy baby.” he basically purred into your ear, continuing to rub your clit with his calloused thumb.

the pretty whimpers and gasps escaping your lips were like music to his ear, you were clearly too delirious to take offense to his teases, let alone come up with a reply. your pussy pulsated on his abs as a clear sign of approaching your orgasm, and it only encouraged him to further guide your hips and rub you.

“riki..” you mewled in utter glee, your hips jerking forth involuntarily ever so often.

“yes, baby? you close? gonna cum on my abs?” he teased, his voice ringing low and deep in your senses.

you gripped onto his chest just a little harder, the knot in your stomach breaking apart with a lewd moan. you stilled your hips as he rubbed your clit through your orgasm, your ejaculation now coating his proud muscles.

he groaned at the wet warmth of it, now gripping onto your hips in a way that made his own needs evident. “that was fucking hot..” he commented, making you return back to earth from your high and hide your face in the crook of his neck out of post-nut embarrassment. 

“shut up..” reblog and comment or i'll appear in ur room at 3 am with a knife :3 💗

[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Can’t Break Tradition

cairo sweet x female reader

summary: You and Cairo are rivals in the workplace. What’s with all the tension at your holiday party?

word count: 3k

a/n: office life au. Merry Christmas!

————

“So I hear you’re still gunning for that promotion huh?”

You shrug, “Mhmm yeah” you say uninterested as your eyes dart around the lavish ballroom your company rented for the holiday party. The massive chandeliers, fancy ice sculptures, and bustling crowd do little to distract from your real focus tonight.

The rando from the IT department that you managed to find yourself in a conversation with responds. “Is that why you and Cairo have this whole thing going on?”

That gets your attention. Your gaze snaps to him, your brows furrowing slightly. “Whole thing?”

“You know what I mean,” he laughs waving his arm off like you said a joke. “Everyone knows," he says leaning in like he's about to share some juicy gossip. "I heard from Iris, who heard from Janice, who heard Winnie talking to Glenn, that apparently Cairo sabotaged your presentation last week so she could take over your clients." He finished cautiously.

Of course you knew what he meant by whole thing. Everyone in your department—Writing and Communications, knew that you and Cairo Sweet were both sworn enemies. Joining the company at the same time, in the same position, had practically set the stage for it—like fate had decided you were destined to clash.

What surprised you is that the tale of you and her had reached other departments. And considering the fact that this was the third person tonight to bring up Cairo to you, it was clear your dislike for each other hadn't gone unnoticed by anyone in the company.

As the IT guy rambled on about something, your eyes finally found what you were looking for. There she was: Cairo Sweet, standing at the top of the grand staircase. Draped in a perfectly tailored red dress that hugged her figure just right, she descended the steps with an effortless grace, completely aware to the sea of male coworkers now openly gawking at her.

You tugged at your red tie, the fabric suddenly feeling too tight against your collar, and scoffed under your breath. “Someone clearly mistook ‘holiday party’ for the Met Gala. Totally unprofessional,” you muttered, the sneer in your voice unmistakable.

“I think she looks incredible,” the IT guy said, glancing at you with a grin.

You shot him a sharp side-eye and rolled your eyes for good measure before scanning the room again. Cairo had disappeared from view, and you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of irritation as you tried to pinpoint where she’d gone.

Knowing where she was meant knowing where to avoid.

“Seriously, though,” the IT guy continued, oblivious to your distraction. “You two really know how to keep everyone entertained. I mean, the banter, the glares—it’s like you’re living in a rom-com, only without the romance part.”

You snorted, finally tearing your gaze away from the crowd. “You sure are right about that. There’s nothing romantic about Sweet. She’s all ego and sabotage wrapped in a designer dress.”

The IT guy just shrugged, clearly amused. “If you say so. Anyways, good luck with that promotion. Looks like she’s already working the room.” He pointed toward the bar, where Cairo was now standing, chatting animatedly with a group of senior managers.

You clenched your jaw, the sight of her effortless charm setting you on edge. Of course, she was already playing the game. Cairo Sweet didn’t just show up—she made sure everyone noticed her.

Determined not to let her get under your skin, you grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing server and made your way across the room. You weren’t about to let her win tonight.

But just as you reached the edge of the bar, Cairo turned, her sharp gaze locking onto yours like a heat-seeking missile. Her lips curved into a smirk, and for a moment, the air between you crackled with tension.

“Y/n,” she greeted smoothly, her tone dripping with mock sweetness. “Enjoying the party?”

“Trying to,” you shot back, your voice laced with sarcasm. “Though it’s hard to relax when certain people keep making everything about them.”

Her smirk widened, and she leaned in slightly, her voice dropping just enough for only you to hear. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, you know.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, your colleague and best friend Glenn’s voice cut in.

“Whoa, whoa, easy there, you two,” he said, stepping between you with a grin. “Can’t you at least pretend to get along for one night? It’s the holidays.”

“Tell that to her,” you said, jerking your thumb toward Cairo.

“Please,” Cairo scoffed, crossing her arms. “If anyone needs a lesson in playing nice, it’s you.”

Glenn laughed, clearly unfazed by the tension. “Classic you two. Anyway, don’t let me interrupt. Just thought I’d enjoy the show while it lasts.”

As Glenn stepped away, Cairo leaned in again, her eyes glinting with something you’ve seen countless times. “Careful, Y/n. Keep glaring at me like that, and people might think you actually care.”

With that, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd, leaving you standing there, your champagne untouched and your pulse racing.

“You know, for someone who claims to hate her, you sure spend a lot of time looking for her,” Glenn says turning around and rejoining the conversation, holding a drink in one hand and his trademark grin on full display.

You groaned internally. Of course, Glenn had to watch that interaction. Your best friend always had a knack for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. “Don’t start,” you muttered, shooting him a warning look.

“What? I’m just saying,” He teased, leaning casually against the nearby bar. “First thing you do when you walk into a room is look for her. It’s like clockwork.”

“I wasn’t looking for her,” you lied, adjusting your tie again.

Glenn barked out a laugh. “Right. And I’m next in line for CEO. Come on, admit it—you love the drama. You and Cairo going at it is like some kind of soap opera for this office. My sister says even her team takes bets on who’s gonna snap first.”

You rolled your eyes, though your stomach twisted at the mention of Winnie. Of course, Glenn’s sister would be involved— Cairo and Winnie were practically inseparable. And if Winnie was anything—she was observant. If Winnie was running her mouth about you and Cairo, then there was no telling what kind of nonsense the office was spinning.

“Winnie doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” you said firmly.

Glenn raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Sure she doesn’t. Look, I get it. Cairo can be... intense. But you’ve gotta admit, she keeps you on your toes. Maybe that’s why you’re so obsessed with hating her.”

“Obsessed?” you repeated, incredulous. “I’m not obsessed. She’s just—”

“Here we go,” Glenn interrupted with a grin, gesturing for you to continue. “Let me guess. She’s arrogant, competitive, impossible to work with—did I miss anything?”

You scowled, crossing your arms. “She’s all of that and more. Trust me, if I could avoid her, I would.”

Your friend smirked, clearly enjoying himself. “Uh-huh. Sure. But you’d be bored out of your mind without her around. Admit it, she makes things interesting.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat as your eyes found Cairo again. She was across the room now, laughing at something Winnie said, her smile lighting up the space around her.

Glenn followed your gaze and let out a low whistle. “Man, if that’s what hatred looks like, then sign me up.”

You tore your eyes away, glaring at him. “Shut up, G.”

He just laughed, clapping you on the shoulder. “Whatever you say, buddy. But if there's something else going on,” he winks, "Then feel free to confide in me."

You shook your head, as he walked off looking to network with someone that could probably make him the next CEO. You gave up on the champagne and flag the bartender down to make you something stronger.

The bartender, a sharp-eyed woman with a no-nonsense air, approached with a towel slung over her shoulder. She tilted her head, her lips quirking in an amused smile as she set a tumbler in front of you. "Let me guess—bad night already?"

You sighed, resting your elbows on the bar. "You have no idea."

As she mixed your drink, she glanced at you, her brow lifting. "You’re Y/n, right?"

You froze. "Uh, yeah. Why?"

She leaned closer, dropping her voice conspiratorially. "I’ve heard the whispers. You and Sweet." Her lips pulled into a smirk. "You guys really hate each other that much, or is it just for show?"

You groaned, rubbing a hand over your face. "Seriously? Even the bartender knows?"

She laughed, sliding your drink across the bar. "Hey, I’ve got ears. And let me tell you, office gossip is way more entertaining than the soap operas my grandma used to watch. People are saying it’s like the ultimate rivalry. You know, ‘will they or won’t they.’"

"It’s a ‘won’t they,’" you muttered, taking a sip of your drink. "Definitely a ‘won’t they.’"

The bartender shrugged, unconvinced. "If you say so. But honestly, you two sound like you’re either gonna kill each other or..." She trailed off, her smirk widening.

"Don’t even finish that sentence," you warned, pointing at her with your glass, looking around you for prying ears.

She chuckled, holding her hands up in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I’ll drop it. For now."

As you took another sip, you glanced down the bar and froze. There she was—Cairo—leaning casually against the counter, her red dress shimmering under the dim lights. Beside her, some overly confident guy was clearly trying his luck, gesturing animatedly as he spoke. Cairo’s smile didn’t falter, but you could tell from the way her body angled slightly away from him that she wasn’t interested.

Your grip on the glass tightened.

The bartender, noticing your shift in attention, followed your gaze. "Ah, there she is. The infamous Cairo. Gotta admit, she’s got style."

The bartender then noticed her pushy company. "Looks like someone’s got her hands full."

You rolled your eyes, downing the rest of your drink in one gulp. "Yeah, well, she can handle it."

"Sure she can," the bartender said with a smirk. "But you’re still watching, aren’t you?"

You ignored the comment, setting the empty glass on the counter. "Thanks for the drink," you said curtly before standing and adjusting your tie.

Your focus already zeroed in on the scene unfolding at the other end of the bar. You knew more than anything that Cairo could handle this situation herself, but your legs had a mind of their own.

By the time you reached her, just as you’d predicted, the guy was already retreating, his shoulders slumping with dejection. Cairo’s sharp gaze followed him for a second before shifting to you. Her expression softened, ever so slightly, but her voice remained crisp.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Y/l/n?" she asked, tilting her head.

You slid into the space the guy had just vacated, leaning casually against the bar. "Just doing my civic duty. Looked like you were stuck with a walking HR complaint."

Cairo smirked, a flicker of amusement crossing her face. "And here I thought you were avoiding me tonight. How uncharacteristic of you."

You shrugged, signaling to the bartender for another drink. "Not everything’s about you, Sweet. I was thirsty."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, a playful glint hidden beneath her usual sharpness. "Right. And yet, here you are, conveniently stationed right next to me."

The bartender slides you another drink.

You met her gaze, holding it for a beat longer than necessary. "If you want to believe the universe keeps throwing us together, who am I to argue?"

"Well," she said, her voice quieter but no less cutting, "the universe must have a cruel sense of humor."

You smirked, setting your glass down. "Or it just knows how much fun we have hating each other."

She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "You have no idea."

Before you could respond, someone from your team called her name from across the room. Cairo straightened, her professional mask sliding back into place with ease.

"Looks like I’m needed," she said, her tone light but her eyes lingering on yours for just a moment too long.

"Don’t let me keep you," you said, stepping aside.

As she walked away, you couldn’t help but watch her go, the familiar mix of emotions churning in your chest.

————

The evening progressed with a blur of polite conversation and forced laughs as you navigated the crowd. Glenn eventually found you again, dragging you toward a smaller room just off the main ballroom where some of the younger employees, including Winnie, had apparently decided to congregate.

“Come on, Y/n, this is where the real party’s happening,” Glenn said, grinning as he pulled you along.

The room was cozier than the grand ballroom, with dim lighting and a more relaxed vibe. People were sprawled on couches, perched on armrests, or standing in clusters, laughing and chatting over drinks. The hum of conversation was punctuated by bursts of laughter as someone commanded the group with an animated story.

You scanned the room, and your stomach flipped when you spotted Cairo sitting comfortably on the armrest of a couch, a drink in hand and a look of mild amusement on her face as she listened to whatever Winnie was telling. Great. Of course she was here.

“Y/n!” Winnie called out, spotting you and immediately waving you over. “Come join us. We were just talking about your legendary showdown with Cairo last month.”

You rolled your eyes as Glenn shoved you toward the group. “Can we not?” you muttered, but it was too late.

Cairo’s gaze flicked to you, her expression unreadable, but you swore there was a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

The evening wore on, and the atmosphere grew increasingly relaxed as more drinks flowed. Someone turned on music, and a few people started dancing in the center of the room. Glenn, ever the life of the party, was in his element, cracking jokes and keeping everyone entertained.

Then, out of nowhere, someone shouted, “Mistletoe!”

The room fell silent as heads turned, eyes scanning for the culprits. You froze, your gaze darting up instinctively. There it was—dangling innocently from the ceiling above you. And of course when you turn to see who had occupied the space behind you—Cairo.

“Oh, this is too good,” Glenn said, his grin so wide it practically split his face. “Y/n and Cairo, under the mistletoe? This is golden.”

Winnie’s laughter rang out, and someone else whistled. “Rules are rules, you two!”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as the room erupted into cheers and chants of, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Cairo, ever composed, arched an eyebrow at you, her lips quirking into a half-smile that only you could see.

You swallowed, your heart hammering in your chest as every eye in the room bore into you. There was no escape, no snarky comment that could deflect this situation.

“Oh, come on, guys. I’m not trying to deal with HR on Monday,” you said with a dry laugh, taking a small step back from Cairo and the mistletoe.

From the crowd, Glenn’s voice rang out, loud and clear, “Boo! Loser! HR’s not invited to this party!”

The room erupted into laughter and cheers, with someone else shouting, “Yeah, live a little, Y/n!”

Before you could respond, Cairo rolls her eyes, and sighs dramatically like what she's about to do will take the life out of her. "I guess we can't break tradition."

And then her lips brushed yours in a soft, little more than corporate friendly, fleeting, yet enough to send a spark through your entire body kiss. The room erupted into cheers and whoops as she pulled back, her expression unreadable.

You immediately wiped your lips as Cairo turned on her heel and walked away into the crowd, leaving you standing there, dazed and entirely unsure of what the hell just happened.

You blinked, still rooted to the spot, before your feet carried you instinctively toward Glenn and Winnie. Glenn’s face lit up the moment he saw you, his mouth opening to unleash whatever snarky comment was brewing.

“Don’t,” you snapped sharply, holding up a hand, your voice laced with a warning edge that made him laugh even harder.

Winnie raised her glass in mock salute, biting back a grin. “What? No post-mistletoe debrief?”

You groaned, rubbing a hand down your face. “I hate both of you.”

Glenn smirked. “Sure you do, buddy. Sure you do.”

————

Moments later in a dimly lit private room in the venue, the faint thrum of the music from the party outside is barely audible through the thick walls. Cairo’s hands are tangled in your hair, her touch possessive and demanding as her back presses against the edge of a table. Her lips are on yours, urgent and searing, leaving no space for hesitation.

You gasp softly, breaking away just long enough to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Cairo’s dark eyes lock onto yours, her flushed face illuminated by the faint glow of fairy lights strung along the walls.

“You didn’t have to look that disgusted when you kissed me,” she breathes, her voice low but edged with challenge.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you tease, lips quirking into a smirk. “Did I hurt your feelings?”

Her expression hardens playfully, and before you can react, she grabs your red tie—the one you deliberately wore to match with her dress. She tightens it just enough around her fist to make you stumble closer—and pulls you into a kiss that obliterates any thought of teasing. It’s heated, raw, and dripping with hours of pent-up tension. Her nails rake lightly against the back of your neck as her other hand fists the fabric of your shirt, holding you close like she can’t bear to let go.

Your hands find her waist, fingers digging into the silky fabric of her dress as you kiss her back with equal fervor, pouring every ounce of your secret into the moment. The world outside could have been burning to the ground, and neither of you would have noticed.

When you finally pull away for air, your forehead rests against hers, both of you panting. A grin spreads across your face as you take in her disheveled hair and swollen lips. “Think anyone suspects us after that kiss under the mistletoe?”

Cairo shakes her head slightly, her lips barely an inch from yours. “Not a chance,” she murmurs, her voice a mix of satisfaction and mischief. “They’re too busy thinking we hate each other.”

“Good,” you reply, your grin turning sly as you capture her lips again. This time, the kiss is slower but no less passionate, a promise that this secret, this fire between you, is yours alone.

For now.

Taglist: @cobaltperun @machyishere @freakshow2501 @nwestra @mcchicken88 @101rizzlrr @snowdrop1026 @ilovesneezing069 @btay3115 @burntoutghost

[beloveds-embrace]

your omega simon idea makes me both soft for him and salivating at the thought of protecting such a big strong guy, urgh i love it. Giving Si and you a big forehead smooch, i love your brain😩 Very much hoping that your brain keeps thinking about omega simon so we get to feast on this damn good food too

Omega simon does unbelievable things to me 😩 and I am giving you a very big and loud smooch back!! <3 have this little Drabble that i wrote fast (so pls excuse any rushedness and mistakes 😔)

The hangar was buzzing with activity as they finally touched down on base, but neither you nor Ghost paid it any mind. The moment your boots hit the concrete, exhaustion weighed heavier than any gear strapped to your bodies. Without a word, without even glancing back at the others, the two of you slipped away like smoke. Silent, deliberate, and entirely focused on one thing: rest.

Price, Gaz, and Soap barely had tme to finish unloading before they noticed your absence.

“Where the hell did they go?” Soap asked, looking around like the two of you might reappear from thin air.

Price’s eyes scanned the hangar for a sharp second before he sighed, already putting the pieces together. If anything, he’d expected this. “Probably holed up somewhere to rest.”

Gaz groaned, though he couldn’t hide the fond smile that cracks on his face. “They could’ve at least told us first.”

“They didn’t have to,” Price said knowingly. “You saw the state they were in.”

And they had. Weeks of back-to-back missions, constant stress, and frayed nerves had worn everyone thin, but you and Simon had carried it differently. Instincts that screamed for comfort, security, and stability, but the battlefield offered none of that. Now that you were finally safe, it made perfect sense for the two of you to disappear and soothe those raw, overworked instincts.

It took them almost an hour to track you down, and when they did, it was clear why you hadn’t wanted to be found.

The room was dimly lit, smelling faintly of detergent and something softer- vanilla and Simon’s deeper cedarwood scent. Blankets, pillows, and their clothes had been piled high, creating a warm cocoon against the outside world. You were curled up in the center, tucked against Simon’s broad chest, your breathing slow and steady for the first time in days. He had one arm wrapped protectively around you, his mask discarded, revealing a rare look of peace on his face- what part of it that wasn’t buried in your hair.

Soap hesitated at the door, lowering his voice instinctively. “They look…”

“Content.” Gaz supplied, leaning against the frame.

Price crossed his arms, face softening the longer he looked at the two of you. “They needed this.”

It was rare to see Ghost so unguarded, but here- with you- he looked safe, grounded in a way the others knew only you could manage. Your hand was fisted lightly in the fabric of his shirt, and his nose rested in your hair like he’d been breathing you in for hours.

“They’ll come out when they’re ready, let’s leave them to rest.” Price murmured, already turning to shepherd the others away.

“Should we leave food out for them?”

Gaz snorted, rolling his eyes, and gave Soap an amused look. “They’re not strays, Johnny.”

But the idea stuck, and before long, supplies were quietly left at the edge of the nest- water bottles, snacks, and extra blankets. None of them entered the space, knowing better than to disturb their omegas when they were finally at rest.

And when the two of you eventually emerged, bleary-eyed and loose-limbed, the pack was waiting- ready to gather you both into steady, grounding embraces. No words were needed. Just their presence was enough to reassure you that everything was okay.

You and Simon had each other, but you also had them. And in a world that demanded too much, that was enough.

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗬 lando norris x fem! reader x oscar piastri ( smut ) fic summary . . . nothing, just filthy threesom smut

( general master list ) ( requests ) ( more of lando norris | more of oscar piastri )

content warnings . . . MDNI +18!!, threesom, bottom oscar, soft dom reader, soft dom lando, anal, riding.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“I’m not teasing you too much, am I?” You smile, tossing your shirt off. Oscar gulped at the sight of you sitting on the floor between his thighs, a whine falling from his lips unintentionally at the sight of kissing his inner whines. The whine Oscar let out was enough to drive you more hungry.

Licking a path up his thighs, you shifted closer until your knees hit the bed Oscar was sitting on. You could practically feel his shaky breaths as you took his lip in your mouth. His moans followed suit, one of his hands hovering over your head in frustration and need.

You enjoyed feeling Oscar yearning for you, his little whines and gasps when your tongue slid over his tip. He whispered a little please in hopes that you’d take the rest of his length in your mouth but you didn’t. The needy moan that vibrated in his throat when you pulled away got you smiling.

“No no, please,” Oscar begged softly at the sight of Lando sitting behind you.  He gritted his teeth, watching the Brit wrap his arms around you and pull you in a French kiss, forgetting him all pulsing and mad.

“I-I got a podium, please,” his beg came again. You couldn’t help but giggle, looking at the Aussie from the corner of your eye whilst still busy with Lando.

“I mean he is right,” you hum against Lando’s lips. “Today should be all about him, no? A podium in Monaco is something.” 

Lando looked up at Oscar with an amused smirk. “What do you have in mind?”

Oscar visibly gulped at the two hungry and lustful stars he received. It felt like two lions deciding how to torment their prey. 

You climbed up on the bed, straddling Oscar's lap who crawled backwards in return. The anxiousness was written clearly on his face and you can’t help but enjoy it. The smile never left your face once as you rolled on your back and pulled Oscar on top of you. 

Without hesitation you pull him down from the back of his neck, chuckling at the sight of Lando pouring lube on his hand as he got on the bed behind Oscar. You had to take the opportunity, reaching with your free hand to guide Oscar's dick to your entrance. And happily, Oscar didn’t need to be told twice, pushing in with a moan.

You cupped his cheeks with a smile, biting your bottom lip while Oscar only gave you a pout, leaning back down for another kiss. Your shared kisses were always soft and loving. They somehow always drove Oscar hungry yet full. You can feel his shaky breaths each time he pulls for oxygen before leaning back in for more.

One of your hands traveled to the back of his head playing with his hair and soon enough you heard the scream you were expecting. 

"No, no, no," you found yourself laughing at the sight of Oscar as he jolted and moved forward to try and escape only for Lando to pull him back from his hips. 

The Aussie was visibly shaking at the foreign feeling of Lando's finger coated with cold gel, pressed into the hole of his ass.

"Oh, come on," you cooed, cupping Oscar's cheek and pressing soft pecks to his lips. "You wanted the attention. I think it's only fair if you get it from both ends." you hum. Oscar only whimpered in reply, keeping his eyes shut as he tried to process what his body felt.

You sat up so you could both watch Lando and still comfort Oscar simultaneously. Holding the Ausie's head in your shoulder, you watched his body twitch and squirm as his teammate invaded his insides.

"So tight," Lando finds himself smirking. You felt Oscar squirm and lean further in your embrace as Lando starts thrusting the finger, in and out in and out. "You have to relax, Osc," the Brit warns, pushing his finger deeper causing the younger of the McLaren drivers to squirm and grip at your thighs and hips.

You could feel the moment Lando added another finger. Oscar arched back and whimpered, attempting to vocally communicate the difficulty he was facing but he only nabled little whines and whimpers as his body lightly rocked back and forth with Lando’s palm.

When Lando decides that Oscar’s loosened enough, he's flipped on his back so Lando can sit between his thighs better. You wrap your arms under the Ausie'sarms and around his chest as Lando holds his hips and positions himself. You could see the hungry look in the green eyes. With the way Lando wets his lips and fixes Oscar in front of him, you could tell this was going to be a rough night for the poor Oscar.

The Australian buries his face in the crook of your neck and practically melts into your touch, searching for comfort to make up for the fear he's drowning in. Still, you're too focused on the sight in front of you, mindlessly tracing shapes to Oscar's chest as you take in and admire the sight of Lando.

As Lando slowly pushes inside Oscar, you hold the Aussie tightly, feeling his body tense up beneath you. Oscar's fingers dig into your shoulders, his breathing ragged against your skin. You stroke his back soothingly, whispering reassurances as Lando begins to move.

"Lando, easy . . . slow," you urge, watching the Brit's face contort with concentration. Oscar whimpers, his hips bucking involuntarily as Lando's thick cock stretches him open.

"Fuck, he's so tight," Lando grunts, his voice strained. But feels incredible.

Oscar nods frantically against your neck, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. You tighten your embrace, determined to ground him amidst the overwhelming sensations.

"It's okay, baby... just breathe," you murmur,

As Lando picks up pace, you focus on Oscar's reactions, sensing his body begin to relax and adapt to the intrusion. His whimpers gradually soften into low moans, hips starting to meet Lando's thrusts with increasing eagerness.

"You like that, don't you?" Lando teases, his voice husky with arousal. "Taking us both deep inside…"

Oscar's response is a choked cry, his nails scraping down your back as he arches into Lando's grip. You continue to caress his sweat-dampened skin, offering support and encouragement.

"That's it, Osc… Let go," you coax, feeling his climax building. "We've got you."

Lando's movements become more urgent, driving into Oscar with powerful strokes. The Aussie's moans escalate, turning into high-pitched cries of pleasure. You can feel the tension coiling tighter in his body, ready to snap.

Suddenly, Oscar's back seizes up, his entire frame shuddering as he comes undone. "Ah! Fuck, yes!" he screams, convulsing in your arms as his orgasm crashes through him.

Lando follows shortly after, slamming deep and holding still as he finds his own release. You cradle Oscar close, stroking his hair as he trembles through the aftershocks, panting heavily against your chest.

After a moment, Lando withdraws carefully, collapsing beside them with a satisfied sigh. You glance over at the Brit, noting the sheen of sweat on his brow and the satisfied smirk on his lips.

Lando's movements become more urgent, driving into Oscar with powerful strokes. The Aussie's moans escalate, turning into high-pitched cries of pleasure. You can feel the tension coiling tighter in his body, ready to snap.

Suddenly, Oscar's back seizes up, his entire frame shuddering as he comes undone. "Ah! Fuck, yes!" he screams, convulsing in your arms as his orgasm crashes through him.

Lando pulls out of Oscar, leaving the Aussie trembling and whimpering softly. He turns his attention to you, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss. Your lips part eagerly, tongues tangling as he explores your mouth thoroughly.

Breaking the kiss, Lando gazes into your eyes, desire smoldering in their depths. "Ride him, love," he urges, nodding towards Oscar. "I'll take you from behind."

Oscar looks up at you pleadingly, his expression a mix of exhaustion and desperate need. "Yn… please…" he whispers hoarsely.

You smile reassuringly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. "Of course, babe," you murmur, reaching for the lube.

As you prepare yourself, Oscar's whines grow louder, his hips squirming restlessly against the mattress.

Once you're slicked up, you straddle Oscar's hips, guiding his hardening cock to your entrance. With a soft gasp, you sink down onto him, savoring the delicious stretch as he fills you up.

Oscar's hands fly to your waist, gripping tightly as he lets out a high-pitched yelp. "Shit, Yn… you're so full already," he pants, his voice breaking on a whimper.

You start to rock your hips, setting a slow rhythm that allows you both to adjust. Oscar's breath hitches with each movement, his body quivering beneath yours.

Just then, Lando positions himself behind Oscar, the head of his cock notching against the Aussie's stretched hole. "Ready for me, mate?" he asks, his voice low and husky with anticipation.

Oscar nods frantically, his eyes rolling back as he braces for Lando's entry. "Please, Lando… need you," he begs, his voice barely above a whisper.

With a grunt, Lando thrusts forward, sinking into Oscar's receptive heat with a smooth glide. Oscar's back arches off the bed, a sharp cry escaping his lips as he's filled once again.

You continue to ride Oscar, the three of you moving in tandem as Lando sets a steady pace from behind. The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh mingle with Oscar's whimpers and moans, creating a sensual symphony.

As you pick up speed, Oscar's whines escalate into desperate pleas. "Harder… please, harder!" he chants, his hips bucking wildly between you and Lando.

You manage to tear your attention away from the erotic spectacle unfolding before you long enough to spot the discarded candy wrapper. With a playful grin, you pop the sweet into your mouth and then lean in to offer it to Oscar, who's still caught up in the throes of passion with Lando.

"Mmm, try some, babe," you encourage, pressing your lips to his in a heated kiss. Oscar's tongue darts out to lick at the candy's flavor on yours, sending a thrill through you both.

Just as Oscar starts to savor the treat, Lando breaks away from his oral assault on your neck to eye the shared snack enviously. "May I?" he asks, his voice husky with desire.

You nod, breaking the kiss with Oscar to turn your attention to the British bad boy.

Lando captures your mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue delving past your lips to tangle with yours. The lingering sweetness of the candy mingles with the musk of sex, an intoxicating blend that makes your head spin.

As Lando devours your mouth, one hand snakes around to palm your breast, thumb rubbing over the sensitive peak. You moan into the kiss, arching into his touch.

The sound of Oscar's whimpers and gasps from beneath you serves as a reminder of the other lovers in this tangled web of pleasure. Lando seems to sense your thoughts, breaking the kiss to gaze into your eyes with a wicked glint.

[leighsartworks216]

Live Stream

Sylus x gn!streamer!Reader

Based on a prompt from @syluspen that took me WAY TOO LONG to get around to. This is actually a compilation of all the little things I started for it but never really finished. So, uh, enjoy

Warnings: fluff, silly, established relationship, video games

Word Count: 909

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

The first time was an accident, really. He didn't realize you were in the middle of streaming for how quiet you were being and came in to ask you what you wanted for dinner.

From that point on, Sylus was the most anticipated part of every livestream.

You didn't mind it. You love your man, love that he chooses to interrupt even when he knows you are streaming just to bring you a drink or give you a quick kiss just to let you know he's home from "work". You're always a little worried someone will recognize him. Thankfully, no one has so far, and hopefully it stays that way.

The chat's screaming is your only warning before arms wrap around you from behind and Sylus's chin is resting on your shoulder. You lean back into him easily, beaming as you pause in your gaming, letting it sit on a dialogue box, waiting to be read.

"Did you just get home?"

"Mhm." He playfully brushes this side of your headphones back with his nose, exposing your ear and kissing your sideburn. "What are you playing?"

"Dream Daddy." You laugh at the odd look he gives you. You circle your mouse over your avatar in the corner. "Aren't I cute? Think you'd still date me if I look like this?"

He huffs a laugh. "Sweetie, if I would still date you if you were a worm, I would still date you if you were a guy."

The chat is zooming by quickly on the secondary monitor he bought you. A lot of people scream about him being "bisexual confirmed?!?!!" He pays them no mind.

"Is it a dating sim?" he asks.

You nod, turning your head to kiss his cheek. "Awe, guys, he's learning!"

"Any good dating options?" he asks playfully. "My current partner keeps teasing me; I may need to browse some new options."

You laugh and he chuckles by your ear, squeezing you tighter in ardent affection. You open up a browser to pull up a picture of all the love interests lined up. You explain each one to him while he listens patiently.

"Which one are you going for right now?"

"Guess."

He hums thoughtfully. "Robert?"

"Got it in one."

"Well, he's the most like me."

??? Is he a cryptid hunter too????

literally look nothin alike how tf

Istg this guy is in some shady business...

You flip back over to the game. He can tell now that one of the other love interests is who you're talking to. You turn your head so you can whisper in his ear. "You alright?"

He hums again with a small nod. "Just tired. Don't worry, sweetheart."

"Let me finish this up and we can go to bed, okay?" You kiss his cheek to cement your promise. He lifts his chin from your shoulder and kisses your forehead. "I'll only be a minute."

"Take your time." He kisses your forehead again for good measure. "Have fun, sweetie." His arms slide from their place around you as he heads toward the door.

-

Sylus loves watching you like this. Usually, he would wait somewhere else in a manor, tending to product for buyers or going over contracts. Tonight, however, you'd promised your viewers that you would play a horror game, and you needed him there in the room as moral support.

Which meant he got to tend to his guns (being off-camera as it were) and watch you panic over a haunted bear that wanted to kill you.

"Fuck fuck fuck, where's Bonnie?!" You jump with a startled cry, nearly flinging your headphones off from the fright. You lean back into your chair, hands on your head, as you read chat and try to calm your racing heart.

"You alright, sweetie?" he calls, trying to hide the amusement in his voice.

You're either too dazed to notice it or ignoring it altogether as you hum noncommittally. "The rabbit got me," you murmur.

The chats start flooding in out of nowhere. A few donations, a lot of screaming...

"Oh, I forgot to tell you guys that my partner is here for moral support." You giggle breathlessly. You look over at him with a smile. "They got jumpscared by your voice."

He chuckles. "I suppose I should be flattered to be on par with the monsters in your game."

-

Headcanons:

He supports your streaming without hesitation

Top of the line monitors, ergonomic chairs, cat ear headphones - name it and it's yours

But he doesn't show up during your streams very often

Really you're the one who insisted he stay out of sight, given his work and the possibility that someone may just recognize him

He likes to play your livestreams in the background while he works

When you excitedly ramble to him about what happened later, he already knows, but he loves to hear it from you

If you mention craving something, he's there after a bit with exactly what you wanted, whether it's a drink or a snack

Understands completely if you don't want to eat on camera, and just saves it for you for after

Maybe sticks his head into the room to show you what he got, or messages you saying it's waiting on the table

Very very rarely is he ever in the room while you stream, but it does happen

He scared your viewers when he suddenly spoke up from the sidelines

They thought he broke in or something

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko 

[mshalfemptygirl]

Under the Tree (S.R)

Plot: Y/N decorates the apartment for Christmas with her boyfriend, Spencer Reid, and things get pretty cute between the two of them. Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader Contents: A sweet Christmas fic where they’re being cute and flirting with each other. Maybe it releases a lot of oxytocin. A/N: I hope you all like it! Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, and if you don’t, I hope you have a wonderful day anyway and enjoy this little piece of joy. Love you all, and thanks for reading my fics! Happy Holidays!

The sweet scent of hot chocolate filled the apartment as I curled up on the couch, wrapped in a soft blanket. Across the room, Spencer was intently focused on his self-proclaimed mission to “perfectly top” our Christmas tree. I watched him as he studied the golden star in his hands, his brows knit together in concentration as if he were tackling one of his impossibly complex equations. “If you spend five more minutes deciding the exact angle of that star, the tree’s gonna give up and decorate itself,” I teased, trying to hide my amusement behind a sip of hot chocolate.

He glanced at me over the rim of his glasses, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. “Did you know that the probability of a Christmas tree being perfectly symmetrical is practically zero? The branches are almost always uneven, even if they’re artificial.”

I raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Is that your fancy way of blaming the tree for how long this is taking?”

He turned back to the tree, the corner of his mouth twitching as he fought back a smile. “I’m not taking that long,” he said, climbing carefully onto a slightly wobbly chair. “I just want it to be… perfect.”

“It’s already perfect, Spencer,” I said softly, my words more for me than for him.

But he heard me. Spencer paused mid-movement and glanced over his shoulder. His gaze was steady, the warmth in his brown eyes making my chest tighten in the best way. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” I replied with a small smile, meeting his gaze. “And I’m not talking about the tree.”

His ears turned a deeper shade of red, and I couldn’t help but laugh quietly. He always got adorably flustered when I caught him off guard like that. But this time, instead of deflecting or looking away, he stepped down from the chair, the star forgotten in his hand, and walked toward me with deliberate calmness.

“You know,” he began, leaning one hand on the back of the couch as he hovered just a little too close, “flirting is actually considered a sign of intelligence.”

“Oh, really?” I asked, my voice softening despite the playful edge in his tone. “So, what does that say about you, Dr. Reid?”

His lips curved into a smirk, the kind that made my heart race and my knees feel just a little weaker. “It says I have exceptional intelligence... and impeccable taste.”

Heat rose to my face, but I managed to keep my composure, raising an eyebrow at him. “Humble as always.”

He chuckled, settling onto the couch beside me and tugging the blanket over both of us. His arm slipped around my shoulders, pulling me closer, and I leaned into his warmth without hesitation.

“You want to know something else interesting?” he asked, his voice dropping slightly, the rasp in it sending a pleasant shiver through me.

“Let me guess,” I said, tilting my head to look at him. “You’re about to hit me with another weirdly sexy statistic?”

Spencer laughed, the sound low and warm, and I couldn’t help but smile. “I could,” he admitted, his eyes sparkling with mischief, “but I was thinking of something a little more practical.”

“Like what?”

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze dropping to my lips. “Like the fact that you’ve got hot chocolate on the corner of your mouth.”

Before I could react, he leaned in and wiped the spot with his thumb, his touch lingering just a moment too long. My breath hitched, and I swore his smirk grew as he noticed my reaction.

“All fixed,” he said softly, his voice casual, but his eyes held that undeniable spark that left me completely disarmed.

“Thanks… I guess,” I managed, my voice quieter than I intended.

“No need to thank me,” he replied, leaning in to press a quick, feather-light kiss to my cheek. His lips were gone before I could fully process the touch, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “But if you wanted to repay me,” he added, his voice lower, more daring, “I have a few ideas.”

I laughed, trying to steady my racing heart. “Ideas, huh? Like what?”

He leaned back slightly, his lips curving into a smile that was equal parts playful and enticing. “Well,” he began, his tone light but purposeful, “we could finish decorating the gingerbread cookies. You know, keep things wholesome. Or…” His voice dipped, his gaze locking on mine, “we could forget about the cookies entirely and stay right here. See where this... takes us.”

I tilted my head, pretending to consider his words as my pulse hammered in my ears. “And what exactly do you think ‘this’ is going to lead to, Spence?”

He didn’t hesitate, shifting closer until his knee brushed mine, his presence impossibly magnetic. “That’s the best part,” he murmured, his voice soft but full of meaning. “I don’t know yet. But I’m pretty confident I’ll like wherever it goes.”

[daughteroftheteleri]

A little Christmas gift for you all

Wow guys, I can't believe the year is practically over. I've had such an amazing time on this account, I've made some amazing friends, reblogged so many amazing things from other members of this wonderful community, and received more love and appreciation than I ever expected I would over my fanfics and fanart - thank you, all of you, for this year and warm welcome you've given me to this website. My Christmas gift to you is a bit of festive bagginshield reshirement drabble (with no plot in sight) that hasn't been beta'd but was fun to write:

"Hold still, Uncle Thorin!" Frodo chastised the dwarf below him, who merely grunted in response as he fought to keep his balance with the fauntling perched on his shoulders. "I'm not done yet!"

"I don't know about this," Bilbo stood nearby nervously, wringing his hands. "I'd hate for you to fall, Frodo."

"What, don't you trust me, my love?" Thorin teased, earning him a playful eye roll from his husband. He could see the sassy retort already forming on the hobbit’s lips, but their nephew cut him off with a triumphant declaration:

"There! All done!"

Thorin bent down, allowing Frodo to jump off his shoulders. Straightening up, he nodded in approval at the sprig of mistletoe the little hobbit had tied onto the arched doorway. "Well done. But I believe we should still test it out, right, Bilbo?"

"I certainly think we should," his husband smirked as Thorin pulled him into an embrace. As they kissed, Thorin savoured the moment, taking his time to appreciate the warmth of his one in his arms, the taste of the gingerbread they had made earlier still fresh on his lips. Thorin did his best to ignore the gagging sounds Frodo was making.

The sound of the doorbell pulled them apart, but even without him in his arms, the gorgeous smile that Bilbo shot him filled Thorin with warmth regardless. "That'll be the Gamgees."

Upon opening the door, Frodo immediately grabbed Sam's hand and pulled him away to play in Bag End’s snow covered garden. Thorin left his husband to entertain the other Gamgee family members while he followed the fuantlings outside.

The two best friends were engaged in an intense snowball fight. Thorin was proud to see that Frodo was winning, as he lobbed a projectile at the blond hobbit while his back was turned.

"Ow!” Sam rubbed his head indignantly. “That is not fair, Mister Baggins!”

"Sam, stop calling me that! We're not boring grown ups," Frodo laughed. Thorin lit his pipe, watching the scene unfolding before him with fond amusement. "Call me Frodo!"

"Ok, Mr...um..." Sam stumbled over the words awkwardly. "Mr…Mr Frodo."

"Close enough!" Frodo giggled, and the fight resumed.

The two continued to throw balls of snow at each other until Frodo, his raven hair speckled with white, paused mid throw. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then promptly shut it again, grabbing Sam's hand. He dragged both of them over to Thorin, who snuffed out his pipe, curious as to what inspired Frodo's sudden silence and wide eyed look.

"Uncle Thorin," The fuantling whispered in awe, pointing just beyond the fence. "There's a reindeer here!"

Thorin squinted at the brown shape his nephew was gesturing towards. The dwarf couldn't see well at the best of times, let alone in the gathering darkness of the winter dusk while flecks of snow fell softly down. Carefully, he crept closer, keeping his footfall quiet. Thorin wasn't nearly as good at sneaking as his husband was, (he could admit that), but he could still move with a surprising degree of stealth when the situation demanded it.

The shape grew more defined as he got closer, and a smile tugged at the dwarf's lips. It wasn't a reindeer, but a young faun, with red brown fur and big, nervous eyes.

"It's a reindeer, right, Uncle Thorin?" Frodo's tiny hand had found his own.

"Indeed it is," The dwarf smiled, unwilling to dampen his nephews’s enthusiasm or discourage his imagination. "Come now, it's getting cold. Back inside, the both of you."

They returned just in time to hear the doorbell ring again. Bilbo, returning from delivering cups of hot cocoa to the rest of the Gamgees, exchanged a confused glance with Thorin. They were not expecting anyone else over for yule this year. Before they could wonder any further, a playful shout from behind the door interrupted them:

"Hurry up and open the door, it's freezing out here!"

With a delighted laugh, Bilbo pulled open the door. Thorin couldn't keep the goofy smile off of his face as Fili and Kili piled in and pulled him into a tight hug, which he returned fiercely.

"I thought the road over the Misty Mountains was not safe for you to travel through this year?" Bilbo asked when they had finally separated.

"Pfft! As if a little snow is going to keep us from seeing our favourite cousin!" Kili replied joyfully. "Where's Frodo?"

"I'm here!" Frodo ran into the waiting arms of Fili, who scooped him up and onto his shoulders. "Wait a minute! Aren't I your only cousin?"

Thorin laughed alongside the others before a serene, feminine voice drew his eyes back to the door. "What, do I not get a hug as well, brother?"

Dis stood framed by the doorway, her fur coat speckled with snow and her midnight green eyes sparkling with warmth and affection. Thorin ran to her, pulling her into a tight hug which she returned gratefully.

"I'm glad you could make it, sister," he murmured into her hair. She just giggled, pulling away from him and lightly punching his shoulder.

"Like my youngest said. No amount of snow is ever going to keep us from visiting you during Yule."

"I hope you still have our presents!" Fili joked, Frodo swaying dangerously on his shoulders. Bilbo swatted him away, a faux scowl on his face.

"Drop my nephew and I'll replace them all with lumps of coal," he playfully snapped. As soon as Frodo was safely back down on the ground, Thorin’s husband led their new guests into the lounge, where the yule tree stood proudly beside the fireplace. Everyone began to settle into comfortable chairs around the hearth, save the fuantlings, who sat on the ground playing, and Fili and Kili, who had decided to play with them. Bilbo, noticing that only one person had yet to join them, turned back to his husband and held out his hand expectantly. "Are you coming, Thorin?"

Filled with contentment, Thorin took his hand, lovingly weaving their fingers together. "Of course, Amrâlimê."

[slutforgnr]

𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 *ೃ༄

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟!

you’re sitting on the floor, christmas decorations are sprawled all around you and you’re choosing which ones will go on the tree and which won’t, with a little help from your five year old daughter, but honestly she is making more of a mess rather than helping.

Izzy is right behind you, wrapping the colourful lights around the gorgeous tree, trying to watch his steps to not break another ornament. again.

“what do you think baby?” he asks, his voice tender as he stumbles next to you and squats down, rubbing your back soothingly so you’d look at the tree.

you turn your head around, your eyes taking in the colourful glistening tree.

“hm…not bad Iz.” you chuckle and give him an approving nod of his well done job.

you set aside all the ornaments that will go on the tree and call your daughter to help you decorate it.

“sweetie come here, it’s time to decorate.” you say with enthusiasm and a big smile on your face, she practically runs up to you and immediately picks up the star for the tree.

“can i put the star there? mommy please?” she asks, her lower lip pouted and she is giving you those puppy eyes, the ones she gives you and Izzy when she really wants something.

“well let’s put the star up then, shall we?”

Izzy says and then he picks up your daughter, making her scream excitingly as she reaches the height of the tree. she gently places the glittery golden star up on the top of the tree which immediately paints her face with a blooming smile.

you watch them both bond over such a simple moment that will become a core memory of hers one day, it is heart warming, it makes you grateful for both of them and it makes you realise how much they mean to you, how much these moments mean to you.

“are you going to help us mom or are you going to just watch us? hm?” he smirks as he hangs up an ornament, his attention is quickly turned back to Alice as she passes him the decorations.

“oh i’m sorry, i didn’t realise i was supposed to do everything around here.” you quip, crossing your arms over your chest. “but i’m happy to supervise you two.” you smirk back at him, making your way next to them, helping them hang the decorations on the branches of the tree.

everyone is so focused on the tree that it all got a little too quiet, Izzy made his way to the record player and picked out a christmas record.

Alice almost immediately started swaying her head to the beat of song, she was giggling and singing , making Izzy join her in a few seconds. you watched them with a smile but remained focused on finishing the tree up, so you wouldn’t be here till midnight.

“is mommy going to be the grumpy now?”Izzy teases you for your quiet behaviour.

“yes mommy don’t be grumpy.” she playfully copies her father, seeing them side by side like this makes you feel like you’re looking at twins.

“so now you two are conspiring against me?” you raise your eyebrow as you try to hide a smile “alright, what do i have to do to win the 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐲 award?”

“move a little.” Izzy walks over to you, taking your hands into his, moving them to the rhythm of the song, making you dance. your daughter watches in amusement as her parents dance together, it’s showing her the true love she will chase later in life, she even claps for the two of you.

your heart swells with emotion and on the other hand Izzy sings the song off-key on purpose, just to make it more playful which has you laughing, he looks so joyful and the moment feels so blissful.

“see just like that.” he points out your smile with his finger , then he makes your body spin and that’s how he ends the dance.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

as the decorating is coming to an end, the tree is becoming more full and alive Alice starts to get bored with the decorating and she keeps on messing with you, putting the same ornaments next to each other even after you told her not to about a dozen times or taking off the ornaments just to mess with your head and by this point you’ve noticed she is doing this just to make you angry.

meanwhile Izzy just watches basically himself in a girl and a child form, messing with you, it cracks him up and he just chuckles at your frustration.

“Alice Isbell, if you keep doing this, i don’t think Santa’s coming to give you any presents this year.” you raise your voice slightly, eyeing her as she turns about the same shade of the white wall behind her, with fear washed all over her face.

you try to hide your smile with a serious face but honestly Izzy smirking in the back isn’t making it easy.

“and you too Jeff.” you point your finger at him, reminding them both that you are the head of the family.

“sorry mommy.” Alice mumbles, scared

‘cause obviously Santa is a big deal at her age, it would be a nightmare if he didn’t come and shower her with toys like every single year.

Izzy smirks and comes up to you, shifting his body behind you, his hands sliding down your sides, his voice drops low to your ear. “Mhm…sorry mommy.”

you chuckle but quickly put on a tough mask again and slap his shoulder lightly, shaking your head but you can’t deny that it didn’t make you blush.

“okay let’s wrap this up, c’mon. Alice you go brush your teeth and i’m gonna prepare you your pyjamas.” you order her and she quickly runs to the bathroom, making up for her bad behaviour ‘cause Santa’s watching.

Izzy chuckles but secretly he is amused by your parenting skills and how quickly you can put Alice back in her place when she misbehaves, he thought you were an amazing mother, from the moment you told him you were pregnant actually, he never doubted that you’d be a bad mom.

as Alice gets ready for bed, you walk into her room, tucking her in, reading her a christmas bedtime story before she starts to fall asleep. her eyelids are getting heavy and even though she’s very tired, she still asks for her daddy.

“is daddy going to say goodnight too?”

she asks sleepily, her voice barley above a whisper.

“of course he is, i’ll go get him baby, sleep tight and sweet dreams.” you place a soft kiss on her forehead, brushing away a few strands of hair from her face before you stand up and walk back into the living room to Izzy.

but to your surprise Izzy isn’t sprawled on the couch, half asleep, he actually isn’t there. you raise your brow, about to call out for him but he jumps from behind you, his hands wrapping around your waist and his lips going to attack your neck.

it makes your heart jump a little but you give into the content hug, you move your head to the side, allowing him to have more space to pepper kisses around.

your hand goes to his neck, your touch lingering there as you mumble.

“Izzy, she is asking for you.”

he chuckles against your neck and pulls away from you. “i’ll be back quick, don’t go anywhere.” he warns playfully, giving you a wink as he makes his way towards Alice’s room , his gaze lingers on you until he walks into her room.

𝐚/𝐧 : wanted to do one for Izzy as well, merry christmas guys ♥︎

[drizzm]

Christmas Eve with The Polycule

I feel overall pretty neutral about Christmas. As a kid, it’s all about the presents and the candy in the stockings. As an adult, I love the guaranteed time off of work.

Now though, I get to spend it with two amazing people. The rays of light brightening my life. Though, they aren’t human. They’re demons. The Prince of the Devildom, Diavolo. And his right hand demon, Lucifer. Yes, that Lucifer. And yes, apparently I’m an overachiever.

It was the evening of Christmas Eve. The three of us were spending time together in the common room designated for Christmas. The fire was crackling and keeping us warm as the gentle orange glow reflected off the decorations covering the room. Diavolo was fascinated with Christmas and went overboard for the first Christmas we all have together. 

There was of course a giant Christmas tree full of ornaments we all picked out, and underneath, a large array of presents of all sizes. Most had random wrapping paper from the different stores the item was purchased from. However, there were two batches of presents that each had matching wrapping paper. The paper signified who would receive the presents. 

I know because they were wrapped by me. It’s something my mom would do our presents from her. They would never have a “To:” and “From:” sticker because the paper did the work. I thought it was just a smart and fun idea, so I’ve continued it for their presents. 

During a lull in our conversation I decided it was a good time for another of my mom’s traditions. I set my drink down and got up from between the two on the couch.

“Where are you going Starshine,” Diavolo pouted.

“To do a Christmas Eve tradition,” I barely explained, grabbing a present of the same thin, rectangular shape from each of their piles, “One gift on Christmas Eve.”

“I’ve never heard of that tradition,” Diavolo watched me with curiosity.

“I believe it’s a family tradition,” Lucifer put his drink down and took his gift, “Am I wrong, Love?”

I shook my head, “No, you’re right. I think my mom started it as a way of keeping us from exploding with excitement.”

“Then we should get a present for you to open,” I put my hand up to stop Diavolo.

“There’s another part to it you both haven’t seen yet.”

They looked at each other as I looked at them expectantly. I watched with an amused smile as they opened the presents and pulled out matching pajamas. The same one I happened to be wearing.

“So, while we didn’t have matching pjs growing up,” I explained, “it was always Christmas Eve pajamas that we opened.”

“But of course you would want us to have matching pajamas,” Lucifer chuckled with amusement.

“What a fun little tradition,” Diavolo beamed, admiring the pajamas, “We will have to continue this every year.”

“That was the plan. Now go put them on,” I ushered.

[entriprises]

"none of the same interests?" he falls into a game of parroting, because his mind draws up a blank on any other sort of reply. each thing that she says to him shakes him blank like an etch-a-sketch in the making. just as soon as he thinks he has something in reply, she's shaking him again.

"i'm not the one not baring his soul-" he leans in closer to the table to look her dead on. "you drive me fucking crazy. you-" he means it better than it comes out. he sucks in a breath, eyes going up towards the ceiling for the momentary reprieve. his face burns, "i am in love with you." what's the point in saying anything but that? the weight off his chest isn't quantifiable, but it's not insignificant. shrugging, his chin lowers back down so he can actually look at her again.

"so, no i can't talk about whether we want to get, fucking cats or dogs on our checks or what colors we're going to paint the walls. you have no idea know how many times i have i tried to have this conversation with you-- or maybe you do!" there's a chuckle, but it's not one that says he's light hearted, or amused. it's resigned, and it's only some miracle that he manages to keep his voice somewhat quiet and even. "maybe you do, because you never miss a chance to remind me how utterly uninterested you are in me."

screw not making a scene, because the energy to yell finds him anew. he doesn't want to yell at her. well not entirely. it's his feelings that simply feel loud, and he thinks it's only right he matches them. it takes everything in him not to.

he raises his hands, palms up as he gestures with some restraint, "we talk, we don't talk. you spend the night, we're cooking together in the mornings. you call me up after a late night because you want to see me. you tell me at the hard deck that you've had too much of me." that one was hard to get over. "you're pissed at me for marrying you," he wants to point out that he doesn't remember that either, that she's not the only one who is reeling, "and now, you're talking about staying married. i don't know what you want. i don't know who i am to you, because we're not just fucking. let's at least be honest with each other. we haven't been just fucking since before we flew together." one hand runs through his hair. he feels the sweat running down his neck.

"if all of that hasn't been obvious, now you know: i love you, and i have to live with that, and it fucking kills me that no-" his head shakes and for the first time in all his words, a desperate breath, an empty silent sob, takes over when he wants to speak, "i don't want to stay married to you. i can't stay married to you. this isn't logistics and convenience for me." his voice pitches, and the tears return.

Bradley sputters, in a way that Nat finds completely predictable and even somewhat comforting. The coffee that inelegantly drips from his mouth is endearing, though gross, and it's instinct, habit, to hand him a few more napkins. The action is alarming, if only because Nat is only now, after they've so thoroughly screwed up their lives, realizing just how comfortably and easily they move around each other.

She has long ignored it, pushed her feelings and good sense away, but it's Bradley. It's Bradley - and she can't remember putting a ring on his finger. Their marriage is real in the worst way, signed names with little commitment behind it. Their marriage will end before ever getting a proper chance to begin, if they can't do this. If she can't do this, if she can't overcome her own inability to let herself entertain her feelings for the man sat in front of her.

Taking a deep breath, Nat nods. His questions are frustrating, mostly because her patience is thin from the alcohol fueled pounding in her head and the coffee, slow to spark more wakefulness. "Yes, if we were to stay married." Her tone, though, stays even, polite almost. Gone is the usual snap that bleeds through with Bradley, whether from outright annoyance or pure humor. It's a cheap imitation of their usual banter.

"I have questions, if we were to do this. For real. If we live together, in your place, what do we keep? Do we redecorate? What about savings? How do we handle all of the bank accounts and splitting costs?" Her eyes slide away from Bradley, fixing on some distant point. Nat takes another steading breath. "We've never talked about the future... what our lives might look like five years from now; what we want them to look like." Naturally, her thoughts turn to children; neither biology nor society have been kind, so while Nat's long known it'd be sometime till she was ready for them, she hasn't had the option of simply shrugging her shoulders and thinking it'll happen in some vague eventually.

Cheeks heating again, Nat knows fresh tears will spill if she isn't careful. "I can't say that until I know there's something worth saving, Bradley." Her face hardens. "I won't bare my soul to you if you have none of the same interests as I do."

[yi3248]

based on my experience when I collected my glasses

[thenwethrowitonthefire]

Shout-out to everyone who survived a "fun" easter with the family

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

I caught myself looking like 😑 again at the grocery store today and I feel so awkward. I don’t want to come off as an asshole to anyone working there (it must suck as a job, especially during summer tourist season) but my face is just like this! I think it would be really funny if I got a custom t-shirt one day that just said “sorry, it’s (probably) not you. My face is just like this” with the 😑 emoji under it

[oldestking]

     /  My god- my love for gil is always present but as i’m sitting once again to hopefully finish watching C.CC (last time I got distracted) it just refreshes me once again just how interesting and unpredictable g.ilgamesh is, yet how at the same time, all that he says still ends up making sense to his character! He really is a character that is difficult to fully box in one slot once you look closer down the rabbit hole that is himself and that is always a delight to see

[tonycries]

Madam Gojo - G.S.

Synopsis. Gojo Satoru, the strongest clan leader in all of Japan - and the most dangerous, too. You, rejected by the elders, and totally not his future bride, right? Right?

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, clan leader! Gojo, arranged marriage, Satoru is a little (very) INSANE and down bad, the elders are awful, oral (fem receiving), use of “madam”, unprotected, créampie, kníves, overstím, féral Satoru, heinous things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.9k

A/N. I need clan leader Gojo SO bad you guys don’t understand.

They say that the head of the Gojo clan is the one person who could burn down this entire world and get away with it, too. 

The youngest of all the clan leaders - and the most infamous - a man who keeps his friends close, and his enemies even closer. Enough so that you’ve heard whispers of his cruelty at every nook and cranny of those stuffy social functions your family has dragged you to. And it was more than enough to paint a picture of such terrifying power.

Of a sharp blade and an even sharper mouth. Of an angelic figure that left no evidence, nor anyone to tell the tale - only the final, hauntingly beautiful image of cloudy white hair, and electric blue eyes.

Eyes that were currently locked with yours, and didn’t seem like they’d stop any time soon. Dangerous. Magnetic. Twinkling with such odd amusement from across the long tatami room. 

Gojo Satoru, the head of the Gojo clan - your future husband.

“Tch, the Kamo girl’s family had a much better reputation than this one.”

Ah, right. How could you forget?

You shift awkwardly on the mat, managing to rip your eyes over to the line of elders behind Gojo, whispering just loud enough that you’d hear - and, of course, remember once more that no, the marriage proposal hasn’t been approved just yet.

And considering those disapproving glares you’d been so warmly welcomed with, it seemed that they were well and fully intent on keeping it that way.

“I can assure you,” you fight to keep the polite smile plastered on your face, painful and slowly cracking with each passing second being interrogated. “My family is well-respected in the community.” Eyes snapping over to a silent Gojo, skin burning at his intensity. “Very well respected.”

“Come now. We’re just saying.” Another voice speaks up, strained and tinged with a venomous tone you knew didn’t bode well. “Your lineage isn’t exactly illustrious, is it?”

The emphasis on “illustrious” isn’t lost on you, and it’s so fucking dramatic than you think you could almost laugh. Apparently, a few of the elders think so, too - because they’re positively seething at the sight.

Muttering an icy, “Something funny, dear?”

“Nothing at all.” you bite back any insults, sifting around the contents of your untouched dinner - the last thing on your mind right now when it seemed like you were the main scrutiny tonight. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Such attitude!” That offended croak is met with murmured agreements and nods from the end of the room, “The madam of the Gojo household must be demure- I told the young master we should go with the Kamo girl.”

God, why did you agree to this again? Something about strengthening your family ties? You felt sorry for the poor soul who’d end up marrying Gojo, because no matter how much beauty or power he held, it certainly wouldn’t make up for this. 

Scoffing, the words falling from your lips faster than you could register them. “Then why didn’t he?”

And this little question somehow seemed to have struck a nerve - multiple, in fact, as you watch in morbid fascination as the elders visibly bristle. 

“B-because-” one sends a hasty glance at their stone-faced clan leader, flushing at his still-unwavering gaze on you. “You- It doesn’t matter. Someone like you isn’t suited to marry-”

“Right, because this clan is that great.”

You freeze. The elders freeze. It seems like everyone in the world freezes except for Gojo - who only raises his brow. Letting your words hang in the air like a foul stench, studying just how awfully you’re digging your grave deeper in this hellish marriage meeting.

Eventually, the elder closest to Gojo’s right mutters a painfully saccharine sweet, “I knew we shouldn’t have let the riff-raff participate.”

And oh it was like a dam burst open.

“-out of the thousands of girls, for someone like master-”

“The scandal, too- imagine letting the Gojo name fall this far-”

“Isn’t worthy. Can’t let the bloodline be carried by some whor-”

You’re on your feet before you realize it. Whirling at the elders head-on, and if looks could kill then all those old fossils would be six feet under and their graves a dance floor for you already. 

Fists clenched, you spit, “If he’s so wonderful then you all can marry this oh-so-great bastard yourself-”

Oh. You’ve done it now.

You were fucked. You were so very, very fucked. 

You don’t even bother to meet Gojo’s stare, instead wondering whether you’d be able to outrun the strongest clan leader alive. Sure, you could take those old toads but-

“Sit.”

Your heart leaps at the voice, the first time you’re hearing it since entering this room - deep, almost-melodic, and for a second you don’t even recognize who it came from. Not until Gojo’s flashing you a mirthful grin, blue yukata shifting as he moves to sit cross-legged, “Sit.”

Oh, God, you didn’t know of any torture methods one could do while sitting - but you didn’t doubt that Gojo was an expert in all of them. 

And as your knees buckle, sinking ever-so-slowly to sit back down on the floor, Gojo tilts his head in confusion. Brows scrunching together as he gestures downwards.

“On your…lap?” You question, as if the answer wasn’t glaringly obvious. 

The only response you get is a careless nod, Gojo spreading his knees further as if to prove his point. No care or concern as he plows on, “If you’d like, of course.”

It’s a silent staredown - you, and him - and the elders watching jaw-dropped, of course. None of you have ever known the young master to let anyone get this close - let alone give them a decision on, well, anything.

. 

A weighty beat passes. One. Two. 

He wins.

And you find yourself walking unsteadily towards Gojo’s imposing figure, all eyes on you as you plop down unceremoniously in his waiting lap. Warm - and it catches you off guard. Gaze flickering over his broad shoulder to look at the aghast faces behind you. Tension crackling in the air as they wonder the same thing as you at this very moment - just what type of torture method is this? 

“Interesting…I need this one.” You blink up in confusion, heart racing and oh- shit, when did he get so close? But Gojo’s chest only rumbles with laughter. Circling his long fingers around your waist, pulling you flush against his sculpted chest, “As the new madam of the Gojo household.”

What? 

The elders behind let out stifled gasps, as bewildered as you were. And you swear you saw one faint, though, you don’t get to take a close look, because Gojo’s gently grabbing your chin, tilting your head up at his pretty face. 

“Wan’ me to kill them?”

“Kill- why?” you sputter - both from his idea and the heat of his proximity. 

“Why not?” He looks at you through his long lashes, so deceivingly innocent that it makes your head spin. Tone so light, as if he was talking about something trivial like the weather. “An early wedding gift, maybe?” And he sounded like he was joking - you wished he was joking. But you knew better. 

So you swallow thickly, “N-no…thank you.”

At this, Gojo’s eyes twinkle. “Yeah, real interesting.” he coos, voice so uncharacteristically playful. And his lips are so close - too close. Running a thumb along your bottom lip, “Gorgeous, too. Tell me, pretty, what do you think of ruling over this trash?”

And you could feel every eye on you as you mull over the question. Weighty. Scrutinizing - except for Gojo who seemed like he was hanging onto your every word. 

Hell, might as well give ‘em a few heart attacks right?

Words that never come - because your body moves before your mind. And you’ve got one hand gripping his expensive Yukata, the other scrambling for his broad shoulders. Softening the blow as you crash your lips onto his.

Soft - it’s the first thing you register. Followed very shortly by the taste of those cheap lollipops from those local convenience stores you loved - strawberry, you think.

But you don’t get to confirm, because the kiss is over as soon as it happens.

Gojo’s pulling away with a strange light in his eyes, lips flushed a pretty pink, yukata dangling off his shoulder already. You have to train your eyes away from the milky skin, and over to the elders. Yeah, one really had fainted - three, now, actually. 

And only one of them is brave enough to pipe up a rapid, “You- how dare you dirty-”

Thud!

It all happens so fast you’re not sure if your eyes are playing tricks on you. In a split second, there’s a long dagger pulled out from his yukata, embedded deep into the tatami mat - not even an inch away from the elder who’d opened his mouth. 

“Out.” 

It’s so abrupt that for a second, you think Gojo’s talking to you, voice soft, and so so eerie. It sends shivers down your spine as you raise your eyes to look at his glare at the frozen crowd behind him.

Eyes wide, aura menacing - a grin gracing his features, absolutely nothing like the one he’d sent you - it was something so dangerous and cold. The temperature in the room dropping about ten degrees as he mutters, “I won’t say it twice.”

And immediately, it’s chaos. Each one stumbling over the other to run out the sliding doors first, none of them daring to look you in the eyes now. 

“O-of course, master.” the leader, seemingly, chokes out. One foot out the room already, “I’ll um- check that the servants are doing their work-”

“No. You all will stand outside.” Gojo murmurs, not even bothering to look at them. Instead, cupping your face closer towards his, “And close the door.”

That door could not have been shut faster, ringing in the tense silence. And suddenly you’re too-aware of the audience outside. Too-aware of being left alone with…your future husband? And the way he was looking down at you with something so dark in his eyes.

“So…” he runs his nose down your neck, breathing in your scent. “If you don’t want me to kill those bastards…what else must I gift you, my wife?” 

“Like what?” You gulp, back arching involuntarily into him. 

Gojo laughs at the reaction, teeth ghosting over your racing pulse. “An estate?” Dancing ever-so-slowly, up your jaw, “All the cars you could want?” He blows gently in your ear, chuckling as you yelp in surprise. “Maybe jewelry?” Kissing the tips of your ears, “You’d look gorgeous in blue. And the Zenin clan has the perfect necklaces I can…convince them to send over.” He pulls away, taking you in entirely, “Or maybe-” Lips now ghosting yours. “-something else?”

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. 

You don’t know who leans in first, just that Gojo’s lips were so sweet on yours. So addictive. Palms cradling your face so softly, while his lips were anything but. 

“Open your mouth, pretty.” he pants into your lips. “Kiss your husband properly, now.”

Shit, you barely even realize the way you’re listening to every single word he says. Jaw falling slack to let him lick at the seam of your lips. Such a messy clash of teeth and spit and him - so hot and starved. Like he couldn’t get enough with the way he hastily moves to press wet, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw. 

“Satoru-” you gasp, and he nips lightly at your bottom lip once you immediately shut yourself up because shit, you’re getting ahead of yourself. Calling the clan leader Gojo by his first name? Hell, you’ll see the gates of heaven before you see an altar. 

But Gojo himself seems to think the complete opposite. “Don’t get all shy now.” he pries away the hand covering your mouth. “Call me ‘Toru’.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed, trying to will yourself to say this little nickname.

Too slow, apparently. Because his hands are suddenly everywhere - on your breasts, your hips, giving your ass a slow squeeze. “T-Toru-” you squeal. 

Gojo’s mouth drops into a soft oh! Immediately surging forward as if to claim your lips again - stopping mere millimeters from your lips with a pained grunt. Like it killed him to stay away. 

“See? Jus’ like that.” he angles your head just right, before spitting, once. Twice. Right into your pretty mouth. “N’ now you’re mine.”

And fuck if Gojo wasn’t going to prove it.

He’s laying you down on the mat, fumbling with the ties of your yukata, “Mine to wed. Mine to carry my legacy.” Thumb running over your hardened nipples as he urgently unbuckles your bra, throwing it behind god-knows-where. “Mine to-” Biting down, ever-so-lightly on your nipple, “-worship.” Hands dipping lower, and lower - just barely teasing the hem of your drenched panties. “Mine to ruin.”

You don’t know what you’re reeling more from - maybe from those words, which you’re sure he said loud enough for the elders outside to hear.

Maybe from the way he’s sliding a finger underneath your panties, sliding it up and down your puffy folds. Making you arch into him like such a slut as he pools your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips, popping them into his mouth with a low groan. 

“Oh. Fuck. Oh, fuck-” Gojo’s eyes roll to the back of his head. Not wasting a second before ripping off your flimsy panties, tucking them away into the waistband of his yukata. “Sweeter than I imagined.”

“S-so filthy-” you mewl, as he spreads your shaky thighs. Lips wobbling pathetically at how he’s admiring your glistening cunt. “Toru, no one’s ever…”

At this, his eyes are back on yours now. Half-lidded, pupil’s blown - and you don’t think you’ve ever even heard of the leader of the Gojo clan being so out of it, let alone see it first-hand. His voice strained as he breathes out a barely audible, “Shit- really? So then…” He’s moving to lick lewd little circles on your inner thigh, “...your husband’s gotta make this memorable, right?”

Gojo doesn’t give the time to even think about answering - he doesn’t trust that he has the fucking sanity to wait that long. Because you’re so pretty splayed out like this for him. Your moans too sweet. Your cunt too tempting. Too his. 

So, really, you can’t blame him when he’s plunging nose-deep into your quivering pussy, licking one, long stripe right up your swollen folds. And fuck the cute lil’ whines escaping your lips are so addictive that Gojo just can’t help but do it again. And again. And again and-

“O-oh my god, ngh- feels too good-” you card your fingers through his soft locks - something that would usually result in a lost hand or two. But for you - anything, for you. “More, Toru.”

Shit, if Gojo thought he’d lost his sanity before then he definitely wasn’t ready for this. 

“So needy.” he’s chuckling into your glistening folds. One hand throwing your legs over his shoulders, the other thumbing over your needy clit. “So perfect. Can’t believe no one’s ever hah- eaten out this pretty cunt before.”

Immediately, he’s squeezing his hot tongue past your folds. And it’s all you can do to buck your hips up so sluttily when he licks at your sloppy entrance. Your throbbing clit. Anywhere and everywhere Gojo could reach.

“Hngh- yes yes yes, too good.”

“Yeah? Ya like this?” He moves his fingers down from your already-ravaged clit, circling your sopping wet hole. “Ya like making such a mess on m’tongue?”

“W-wha-” The words get caught in your throat as you whirl down at the sight below you - Gojo. Gojo, with strands of white hair sticking to his forehead, eyes so glassy. Gojo, tongue lapping at your sweet juices, looking like he wanted to devour you with his eyes, as much as his mouth. 

At your reaction, he grins, furrowing his brow in mock-concern, “What’s wrong, pretty? Can’t talk?” Bullying his long fingers past that first feeble ring of resistance, massaging your plushy walls. “N’ you were so hah- feisty earlier. Thought my new mmpf- wife would be mouthy?”

You give his hair a warning tug, whispering, “Sh-shut up-” But it comes out more breathless than you intended. 

Gojo notices, of course he does. Because he’s letting out a whiny, “Sh-shut up.” Wrapping his pretty pink lips around your pulsing clit, “As you wish, madam Gojo.”

You hear a dull thud from outside, but you can’t even think about turning your head to look because Gojo’s drinking you in like a man possessed. Pumping his fingers in and out, expertly hitting that one spot with each and every thrust. Looking nothing like an infamous clan-leader and every bit on cloud nine as he rolls his tongue over your clit. Over and over and-

“P-please ah- oh-” you squirm.

“Move your hips like that. Yeah- jus’ like that, pretty- fuck-” The most powerful man in the country letting himself be angled and pulled as you pleased, grunting each time you drag your pussy all over his mouth. Fingers frenzied on your clit - sloppy. Fast. 

But it still wasn’t enough for Gojo - he thinks it’ll probably never be. But that’s fine - the two of you have until the wedding night to perfect it, right?

So he’s looping a big arm around one leg, pulling your snug cunt impossibly closer, reaching over to toy with your pretty clit. And then he’s nose-deep in your sloppy entrance, preparing you for what was to come - fucking you both on his tongue and his fingers. 

Jaw grinding deeper, stretching you out, thrusting in and out in and out in and-

“Fuck fuck fuck- Toru m’so…”

“Close?” he slurs into your cunt, grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Fingers just digging into your hips, sure to leave pretty little marks for him to admire later - and to give a message to those old toads outside. “Cum f’me. Shit- cum f’me, pretty.”

Gojo realizes it before you when you’re finally cumming - because your gummy walls are squeezing around him so tight that it’s almost difficult fuck you through your high the way he wants. 

You’re shaking. Blood roaring in your ears, vision spotty. Crying out a hoarse, “Fuck fuck fuck- oh my god, Toru-” Barely even realizing the way you’re rocking your hips so hard into his hot mouth. 

And Gojo keeps going. 

Even when you’re blinking your vision back, big fat tears pricking your eyes at the sheer overstimulation. Even when white-hot electricity sparks behind your eyes each flick of his tongue. Still toying with your poor clit, tonguefucking you so messily. 

“Toru, s’too- ngh- much- fuck.” You can barely get the words out, jolting. Wondering how the fuck his mouth wasn’t tired, yet - how his fingers weren’t cramping up, tongue still as greedy as ever. “C-can’t-”

“You can. You will.” he’s murmuring into your cunt. Running his mouth now, like he was drunk off your pussy. Words as fast and ragged as his tongue. “C’mon, faster. Harder. Fuck-” you flinch as he spits out little profanities into your messy cunt. “Fuckin use me. Use me like the good lil’ wife you are.”

“Oh- shit.” you whine. Clawing at the mats, Gojo’s hair, his shoulders - just anything to cope with the sheer stimulation as he made out with your pussy like a mad man. “Wait- cum- m’gonna…”

You’re cumming and cumming all over again. So hard, even as you grind your hips deeper into Gojo’s mouth. Riding out your orgasm on his pretty face, so painfully good. 

And only then is he finally pulling away. Absolutely wrecked, eyes miles away already, mouth glistening with your slick. Going all the way down his jawline, and onto the tatami mat in a deafening drip! drip! drip!

“Oh.” he runs his tongue along his wet lips. “Who made you cum like this?” 

A smile slowly splits across his face as you manage out a little, “Y-you, Toru…”

“That’s fuckin’ right. Me.” Hypnotized by the heavenly sight of you all fucked-out and twitching with the aftershock. Marveling down at his hand - glossy, and covered with your slick, “N’ m’gonna love you.”

And, well, a good husband always shares, right?

Because Gojo’s shoving his fingers past your kiss-bitten lips, pressing right at the back of your tongue in a way he knew would have your eyes watering, gagging around him so prettily. Eyes widening at the feeling of something so hard and hot between your legs. 

“C’mon, lil’ madam. Lick them clean f’me, will you?”

You’re gasping, “Mmpf- Toru-” Eyes flitting between a smug Gojo and the hand currently untying his robe. So teasing with the way he’s giving you just a flash of those boxers before oh-

Shit. 

You thought that he’d be big - it was expected, in fact. But this was fucking ridiculous. 

All sculpted curves and dips of his body, faint scars painting his milky skin - stories he’d tell you about later, you think. A fucking masterpiece. All the way down, down, down to where his throbbing cock was leaking all over those tufts of white at his toned pelvis.

Rock-hard, and so so angry. Prominent veins running along the side, flushed a shade of pretty pink that glistened with precum in the dim lighting. So intimidatingly long that it already had you worrying for your poor cervix, and thick enough that it had your thighs pressing mindlessly together. 

Something that Gojo obviously didn’t appreciate.

“Now now.” he tuts, pulling back his fingers to spread apart your thighs with ease. So far apart that it burned. “I need these legs open, pretty. I like the view, y’see.”

And he made it quite obvious, too. Spreading your swollen folds so shamefully apart with his thumb - wet with your split. All the blood rushing to his cock at the way you flinch in embarrassment, at the feeling of being so used. Cute. 

“Shhh, relax.” Gojo hums. Spreading the spit and slick lazily along your cunt with his fat head, purposely letting it smear all over your thighs. “M’gonna make this feel so good for you.”

And let it be known that Gojo Satoru was a merciless man - for everyone. 

Except maybe his cute lil’ wife. 

Because, yes, he’s suddenly splitting you apart on his massive cock. Yes, he’s holding your poor hips still, head dropping into the crook of your neck as he sinks in inch by fucking inch. 

But oh God does he have to hold back from fucking your tight cunt exactly the way he wants. The stretch too sinful, your pussy too heavenly. 

Instead he’s kissing away the single tear rolling down your cheek, muttering, “Too big? Aww, f-fuck, pretty. You needa breathe-.” Rich, coming from him considering that Gojo doesn’t know if he was breathing right now. Too caught up in the way he’s rolling your swollen clit between his fingers, gasping into your open mouth, “Trust me. M’gonna make it f-feel hah- good. So fucking good.”

“F-fuck-” Your head is spinning. And you can only give him such delirious little nods as Gojo starts to push in quick, lazy little grinds of his hips just to squeeze inside your gummy walls. Past that first, tight ring of resistance. 

“S’too big-” you squeal, nails raking down his back. “A-are you all the way in- yet?”

“Nope.” he’s popping the p, so unfairly smug. “Not even halfway in.” Drinking in all your cute lil’ sobs as he snakes a hand up to draw an invisible line across your stomach. “But you b-better be prepared, wifey. Because this-” Pressing down, hard. “-is where I’ll be.”

You didn’t know who wanted that to become a reality more - Gojo or you. 

Especially with the way your tight cunt is sucking him up so good, and shit for all Gojo’s reputation, he feels like he could’ve cum right then and there. 

“Shit- so fucking tight. God- you’re gonna make me lose my mind.” words so strained. So dangerous. He kisses down your neck, biting right above your racing pulse. “How do you want it? Like you’re my hah- wife- or my lil’ slut?”

A trick question, you think - as much as you could when you’re this cockdrunk, at least. 

Locking eyes down at the way your cunt was bulging so obscenely around his cock, clamping and quivering as he keeps pushing in in in- Unstopping. Relentless. Mewling a little, “L-like I’m your…wife.” 

“Louder.”

“Like I’m your wife.”

Several things happen at once - that faint muttering suddenly increases tenfold, and maybe if you were in any better state of mind you’d have noticed the few gasps. Gojo, however, does hear. 

It only takes an irritated growl and a split-second flash of metal for a second dagger to be struck deep into the thin wooden panel of the door - unfortunately for whoever just so happened to be on the other side. 

“That’s right. My wife.” And then he’s bottoming out - heavy balls smacking your ass, leaky tip nudging your poor cervix, letting you mark him up all you want as he rocks his hips faster into yours. “And you- ah- you realize they’re beneath you, right?” he’s stroking where he can feel himself bulging inside you. “That my lil’ wife just has to say the word n’ I’ll ngh- take ‘em all out?” 

You can only sob at the pressure, because his words are so soft but he’s fucking you so mean. Sounding like he was losing his sanity with each time your heavenly walls milked him. 

“I’ll kill ‘em- kill ‘em all-” he’s gritting out. “Hell, I’ll take down the r-rest of those clans ah- too if it pleases you.” Fingers getting so erratic on your clit, angling his hips just right to try and find- 

“Hngh- f-fuck, Toru- there-”

That.

So sloppy with the way he’s alternating between hitting that one spot and just abusing your cervix. Bruising - like he wanted to mark you everywhere n’ show it off, too. Biting down your neck, whispering into the skin, “Anything for you, madam.”

Rocking his hips harder, and he couldn’t give less of a fuck about the lewd little pool of slick and split forming on the mat below. Can’t even think to bring himself to be disgusted. 

“Feels good?” he’s drinking in your adorable sobs, “S’what you imagined?”

You’re torn between running away and fucking your hips up so bruisingly into his, hells digging into the mat as you push and pull away. “Yes. Feels- ah- ngh-” And for all your mouthiness earlier, you can’t even form coherent sentences right now - something that makes Gojo balls squeeze so painfully.

Something that has him wrapping his arms around your legging, dragging you like some ragdoll back to him. Rocking his hips so bruisingly deeper and deeper as he babbles. 

“Gonna make you c-cum. So hard.” He’s fucking you harder into the mat. Faster. Sloppier. “Gonna ngh- make you my beautiful bride.” Bouncing you on his painfully hard cock like he was claiming you from the inside - to leave marks for everyone in the clan to know. His balls on your ass, your nails down his shoulders, lips on your neck leaving little bites. “Gonna make you mine, pretty. And everyone else s’gonna know.”

And Gojo can tell when you’re close because he’s learned that you have a habit of squeezing him to insanity when you are. 

“Close?” At your delirious nod he’s giving you a blinding grin, “How cute. Why don’t you hah- cum f’me like the good lil’ wife you are, hm?”

Cum for him you do - thighs shaking, body jolting. So hard and violent that you’re covering him in all your sweet sweet juices. 

And he can only watch - awe-struck - as your pretty pussy squirts all over his angry cock glistening, and just drenched with your slick now. Beads of it getting all over his burning abs, trickling down every dip and curve as he uses your quivering pussy harder and harder-

“God, you’re so good f’me. Look how much you came.” Giving a final, harsh thrust. “So perfect f’me.”

So fucking smug as he finally cums as well. Letting out a low, muffled moan into your neck as he fills your poor pussy with rope after rope of seed, painting your walls such a sinful white. All the way until he was sure you were bloated with his cum, until he could feel it dribbling down the side. Looking down to confirm and- ah, sure enough, it was such a heavenly sight - thick globs drenching your clothes below. Spreading in a pool as his hips push deeper and deeper. 

Like it hurt to stop. Like it hurt to even think of tearing his eyes away from you. 

But, alas, this old meeting room could only take so much, and Gojo thinks you’ll enjoy his - your - bedroom much better for round two.

Which is how the elders outside found the door kicked open not too long after. Blinking up in shock at the tall figure of the Gojo clan leader at the frame holding you. Tired and limp in a princess carry, all bundled up your yukata and one of his outer robes. 

And they can only avert their eyes, faces burning at the hazy expression on your face, hair so unsubtly messy, bare legs twitching ever-so-slightly from where they were just peeking out from where the fabric had bunched up. Sinful. Desecrated. And evidently his. 

“Clean that room up.” 

Gojo’s stern command snaps them all out of their reverie. 

But before they could all run to do so, he’s plowing on, unapologetic and low. “Oh, and bow down-” chuckling lightly as they scramble to their knees before him - and your barely-lucid figure. “-to the new madam of the Gojo household.

A/N. On my period I’m gonna cry. 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[makismei]

in the same universe as this :,) cw: toy usage, hint of brat taming, hints of sadism & machoism, 18+ content, overstim, dubious consent, soft :(

“you’re doing it again,” he deadpans, knocking your thighs open, “keep. them. open.”

pearly slick oozes from your cunt, soiling the newly washed sheets and sticking to your inner thighs. toji sits in front of you, a blank look on his face but you know how he’s truly feeling from his eyes.

lidded and intently focused on your poor, leaky cunt, he mindlessly goes through a small box on the bed, feeling around for what feels interesting.

it’s your box of sex toys. the ones you used before you started dating the man in front of you. it’s been a while since you’ve reached for them, since it feels like toji knows your body wayyy more than you do, and also because he gets you there, he doesn’t let you escape until you’ve gone brainless from all the orgasms he’s blessed you with. why would you ever need to do the work again?

but toji isn’t all too familiar with adult toys. of course, he knows about the basics—dildos and vibrators, but when he accidentally stumbled upon this little treasure box of yours (his own words), curiosity took over him. he’s never seen pieces of silicone and plastic look so lewd, and the look on your face was so precious, he just had to try them.

“hmm,” lowly, he calls your name, “what’s this?”

heavy eyelids blink open, registering what’s in his hand before you shoot up, attempting to scurry away but your bed isn’t that big and his reflexes are out of this world—

“that’s a reaction,” he grins, eyeing the small red toy, shaped like a flower. “you used this one a lot?”

you shake your head, cheeks burning and eyes welling up with tears. crocodile tears, toji raises a brow, beckoning you to continue.

“‘s too much, it..” you trail off, breaking your gaze, but his hand guides you back, gently thumbing your cheek.

“you’re in control baby,” he whispers, “i won’t do anything you don’t want, you know that.”

of course you know, that’s why you let him do whatever the hell he wants with you. and frankly, him using that cursed little rose toy is making you more excited than you thought.

“it… made me squirt for the first time…” you squeak, speeding up with each word spoken, “i only used it a few times because the first setting was already too m—hold on, waitwaitwait—”

“this?” he drags you back, spreading your legs to make room for himself, “m’ gonna have fun with this.”

“toji,” you weep, anticipating, and he knows, a soothing hand caressing your thighs and waist, “m’ nervous.”

and toji knows he’s sick and utterly deplorable, because your reaction is turning him on. he’s excited, out of the few he’s tested already and the others yet to come, he has an inkling of a feeling that this one will be his favourite.

“s’ okay,” he coos, “what’s your word, gorgeous?”

“ginza…” the city you met him in. a little corny, but it works.

he hums, smiling. “you ready?”

you nod, shyly looking up before correcting yourself, “yes.. m’ ready.”

it doesn’t take him long at all to figure out the buttons. there’s only two after all, the power button and the other one that controls the settings.

the buzz makes you tense up, but you relax slightly under your boyfriend’s loving touch.

he spreads your lower lips with a thumb and pointer finger, whistling lowly. he lazily collects your juices, smearing it over your clit.

with bated breaths, you let out a quiet cry when the suction latches onto your swollen clit. back arching almost immediately, toji’s shocked by your reaction. he grins, amused. cute, he thinks, watching you drool and squeal.

you’re surprisingly still, muscles tense and lost hands trying to find purpose.

would it be too much if he started fingering you?

you let out a long wail, head jolting to look down at him. he’s smirking, pleased with your shocked expression.

but he’ll be nice, for now, only sliding in one finger as he eyes your reaction.

it hasn’t even been long, maybe just over two minutes, but by the telltale squeeze of your cunt on his finger he knows you’re cumming.

“already?” he laughs, crooking his finger just right, “no way.”

“i—i told yooouuuu!” you’re absolutely gone when he presses against that little spot inside of you, screeching as your body locks up. toji feels his finger being pushed out, a stream of liquid following, splashing lewdly from your cunt.

and god, just at the sight of you, the sounds you’re making—he’s about to lose it. but he grits his teeth, using a free hand to quickly hold himself off.

he takes the toy away, turning it off, but still stimulating you with his thumb. your body starts quivering from all the pleasure and it’s been a while since he’s seen you cum like that; he worries for a moment that he pushed you too hard.

but he lets you ride it out, quiet sobs of pleasure filling the room. your head is turned to the side, shaking hands covering your face. he praises you softly, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to the inner side of your knee.

when he sees you’ve calmed down, he gently moves your hands away, pressing a kiss to your tear soaked cheeks, both sides, before kissing you deeply. you moan, throwing your arms over his shoulders.

when he pulls away, he cradles your face in his hands. “how was that?”

it feels like a fire ignites beneath your skin, his stare rapt and focused only on you.

your eyes shift away, meek and ashamed, “i liked it…”

“don’t get all shy with me doll,” he grouses, “i gotta know how you feel.”

your hips are still twitchy, eyes glazed over. “toji,” you whine softly, tears pooling in your eyes yet again and this time he’s actually worried. “m’ not lying… it felt so good, but i’m really embarrassed.”

“baby,” he coos, chastely kissing your lips, “s’ okay, s’ nothing you need to be embarrassed about.”

he turns you both over, so you’re laying on his chest. you listen to the sound of his heartbeat, steady and true. the warmth of his body is soothing, his fingers tapping up and down your spine.

“toji,” you call, meek and unsure. he hums.

“i love you,” you mutter, raising your head, “i know we don’t say it a lot, b-but—”

he smiles, all the way from his lips to his eyes. his entire face lights up, “if i knew making you cum real hard makes you a softy—ow! okay! don’t bite me!”

he’s laughing, hand brushing the hair from your face. “i love you. more than you’ll never know, doll.”

it’s resolute, he’s so unashamed that it’s annoying.

you grumble, hiding your face in his chest. your breath stutters when you feel his cock poke your leg.

“sorry,” he chuckles, “he likes you.”

“shut up,” you mumble, hand reaching back. it’s searingly hot and heavy in your hand. you can feel one of his veins pulsing under your touch.

“sweets,” he panics, “s’ okay, jus’ leave it… holy shiitttt..”

you whine, thighs quivering at the feeling of his leaky tip pressing against your slit.

“tojiii,” you drool, looking up at him, “i want it.”

he rubs a hand over his reddening face, unsure. need is taking over him, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to hold back. “baby, can you handle it?”

you nod, “yes, yes please,” you call his name, drawn out and needy and fuck, he’d be a shit boyfriend if he doesn’t give his lady what she wants right?