#like I��m glad I can make you feel better and keep you from getting too much anxiety and stay calm but at the same time I want to hang with

[deviousdiesel]

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[heavenbarnes]

Do not go gentle

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Warnings/Contains: illusions to reader suffering "some" attack earlier, nightmares, reader and hotch are goofy idiots, inappropriate boss/employee relationship, unprotected pinv sex, dirty talk, pulling out, splash the back, mentions of m!masturbation, swearing, blasphemy, hotch has a size kink if you squint.

Word Count: 4.7k

Can you believe it? I've finally posted Hotch smut? I recently picked CM back up again and turns out he's still irresistible. Enjoy this, I did.

You'd only been back a week, after having two off, and Hotch already wanted to see you in his office.

This normally wasn't a cause for concern, usually you actually liked seeing Hotch in his office. Usually because it was for praise, he'd remark good work you'd done or feed you back something good he'd heard about you from another department.

It was also in that low, calm voice and he'd always have a hint of a smile working it's way to the surface.

But this time it'd be different.

You'd been off for two weeks and everyone was worried it wasn't enough. You'd been, quite literally, through hell and back and nobody wanted to push you too hard to get back into the field.

But you'd reassured Strauss, reassured everyone, that this was the best thing for you. You'd been going stir crazy on your couch in your little apartment, watching everything the TV had on offer.

You needed to get back into things, you needed to get back to helping people.

So you made the slow ascent up to Hotch's office and quietly knocked on the door, feeling it slowly swing open against your hand. He looked up from his desk, eyes connecting with yours and his brow raising slightly.

"You wanted to see me, sir?

He waved you in with his hand, gesturing towards the chair in front of his desk. You took a seat, doing your best to relax back into things and not let him know how nervous this had made you.

“I just wanted to see how you’re doing?”

You smiled, only gently with your gaze picking out flaws in the carpet of Hotch’s office. Nodding slightly, you lifted your head to lock eyes with him.

“Good, actually,” That was honest but you could tell he was a little hesitant to accept it. “I’m glad to be back with everyone and making some difference.”

“And how are you sleeping?” Clear and level headed as ever.

You hesitated, it was only a second but there was no getting past him. You knew you had to be honest now.

“Not well, that's only when I finally get to sleep, and when I do I’m right back there again.”

Hotch’s expression was as hard to read as ever but you could see a hint of sympathy? Sadness? Concern?

“And are you seeing a therapist?”

“I am! She’s great, she says the best way through it is to keep living until I have enough good memories to replace those ones.”

You thought there may have been a hint of a smile on his face but it was gone as quick as you saw it.

“If there is anything I can do to help you, just ask- or call.”

You gave him a smile, an earnest one and you nodded as you spoke. “I will, thank you, Sir.”

That went better than you expected. He didn't want to recall you back to the office for desk work, he was just checking in. You found yourself back to feeling how you normally did when you left his office.

Not really wanting to go.

-

Your apartment was dead quiet, you couldn't even hear the usual hum of your fridge as you left the bathroom. Your home was darker than you were used to, the moonlight struggling to get through the windows.

As you stepped into the kitchen, you felt the unmistakable air of company. Something was telling you that you weren't alone in the darkness. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as your fingers reached for the light switch.

So close, you were so close when you suddenly felt a strong grasp wrap around your wrist-

Awakening with a scream, you felt your heart fight it's way out of your chest. Your neighbours would probably be leaving another not-so-passive note in your mailbox about this.

Sitting up on the couch, you found your lights still on and your TV still playing some mindless background noise. Another nightmare taking your sleep right from you when you needed it most.

Your cellphone lay on your coffee table in front of you, black screen staring back at you. Mulling it over in your head, you weighed up your options.

On one hand, he quite literally said to call if you needed him. But on the other, he probably just said it as a courtesy, something everyone says.

Either way, before you could really talk yourself out of it- you were dialing Hotch’s number and pressing your phone to your ear.

Zoning out a little at the dial tone, you were quickly snapped back by the sound of his voicemail service, a robotic voice asking you to leave him a message.

It all happened too quickly, your lips were firing off before you could stop yourself.

“Ah- oh God- uh sorry, I’m sorry this is- oh it’s actually me by the way. I’m sorry I called it’s just- I uh had a nightmare. That sounds really lame now that I’m saying this and I really shouldn’t have called- uh I realise now you didn’t pick up because you’ve got a life or you're sleeping- but I'm not and I uh- shit-sorry- Sir, this might be a record for the world’s most pathetic voicemail so maybe take this to a museum- or to a lab to have me tested because what the hell is this- anyway- shit- sorry again and enjoy your night- see you at work tomorrow morning, please- uh please don’t mention this or I will have to go into hiding. Anyways- good night- sorry.”

Hanging up after the message, you threw your phone at the couch and watched it bounce off the cushions and onto the rug. Stuffing your palms into your eyes you let out a pained groan.

“Please throw your phone into the ocean!” You begged, getting up from the couch. “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

You had almost forgotten the cringiest voicemail known to man. With how focused you were on perfecting this terrible boxed mac and cheese, your mind was nearly elsewhere.

Just as you’d managed to find a bit of peace, a knock at your front door made you jump out of your skin. Doing your best to calm yourself down, you brought your bowl of macaroni with you to the front door to investigate.

One eye to the peep hole, the minute you saw the person on the other side- your heart dropped. Slowly twisting the lock, you pulled the door back to reveal one Aaron Hotchner.

A very cozy looking Aaron Hotchner.

“Sir-“

“I got your message, you had another nightmare?”

Your words got trapped up in your throat before you could get them out. “Uh yeah.”

“What about? Are you okay”

Clearing your throat, you did your best to focus your gaze on him, remind yourself that you were here- safe in your apartment and not back there.

“Same old, I’m alone in the dark and then suddenly- he’s there.”

There was that expression on Hotch’s face again, this time you were sure it was concern, genuine concern. It was unmistakable.

“I’m sorry this keeps happening to you.”

Just as you were about to brush it off, pretend like it wasn’t driving you crazy, you could see a faint smile appearing as he kept speaking.

“I couldn’t find a museum that'd accept your voicemail but I did find a 24 hour convenience store with ice cream.”

He lifted the bag in his right hand and you could faintly see the tub through the plastic. “Is that cookies? That’s my-“

“Your favourite, yeah it is- do you mind sharing?”

You felt a heat rise in your cheeks as you nodded, quickly realising you’d been having this whole conversation in the hallway.

“Oh yeah, come in- get out of my hallway would you?”

Hotch laughed, quietly, but he still laughed as he walked in. He went straight to the kitchen as you hovered by the couch.

“I can even share my gross looking boxed mac and cheese if you ask nicely.”

That got the rest of the laugh out of him, smiling over his shoulder as he made himself at home in your kitchen. Trying to give yourself something to do, you picked up the TV remote.

“Sorry, the TV’s just been on as background noise but we could watch a movie- only if you want- I don’t even know how long you-“

Thankfully, Hotch cut you off again. “I’d love to watch a movie, as long as it isn’t a cartoon, with dinosaurs or superheroes.”

As he rounded the couch and passed you a bowl of ice cream, you looked up at him with an incredulous expression on your face.

“I literally just rented ‘cartoon dinosaur superheroes’, what the hell?"

Your face broke out in a grin before you could even finish your dumb joke and it had an instant effect on Hotch.

“Yeah well, I preferred the TV series- it went into much more detail.”

Spoon in your mouth, you shot a look at your usually-very-serious boss. You weren’t used to seeing this many smiles- let alone hearing this many jokes from the man.

“Which one was your favourite? The green one?” You pushed the corny little joke a little further.

He glanced back in your direction as he lifted his own spoon to his lips. “I liked the one that put out fires.”

Immediately a grin broke out across your face as you couldn't contain your giggles. You quieted down to a hum as you nodded at his quip. “There totally would be one that put out fires.”

Leaning back into your couch, you picked up your feet to lean them on your coffee table.

“You can put your feet up by the way, I don’t mind.”

As quickly as you said it, Hotch was reaching out a long arm to wave at your legs. “I do, get your feet off the table.”

Looking at him in (slight) faux-shock, you shook your head as he did his best to fight off an impending chuckle.

“Excuse me? This is my house!”

Hotch’s smile only grew. “Hardly a house, it’s a living room with a bed in the back of it.”

Stunned expression painted across your face, a series of unintelligible noises fell past your lips as it was your turn to try not to laugh.

“Alright then, next time I have a trauma induced nightmare then I’ll be coming to your house.”

“Perfect, I’ll have the boxed macaroni cheese and dinosaurs.”

“Great, and I’ll pick apart every stylistic choice you’ve ever made in.”

Hotch finished off another spoonful of ice cream as he shrugged. “I think you’ll find I’m a very skilled interior decorator.”

You cocked your head towards him, eyes narrowed as you played on the bit. “Suuuurely not?”

“I am, and don’t call me Shirley.”

Eyes wide in excitement as he said the words, you couldn’t believe Aaron Hotchner was a certified funny-guy. Your stoic boss, your always knowing what to say, what to do, boss. You quickly reached for the TV remote off the table as the next thought struck you.

“That’s the one, I wonder if they're streaming Airplane!”

It wasn’t like you even lasted the first 20 minutes before you fell asleep. You felt so warm, so cozy, so at peace that you hadn’t even realised you were drifting off until you did.

Hotch didn’t mind either, just happy to see you finally sleeping. His right arm stayed firmly around your side as your cheek and hand laid against his chest, snoring only quietly.

He smiled from above you, tilting his neck just enough to gently rest his chin against the top of your head.

That night you dreamed, for the first time in weeks. You were in your apartment, but the lights were shining and the moon had cast a glow over the room. You could tell you weren’t alone, you felt the company, but you couldn't find it to be scared.

Somebody else was in your apartment and he remembered your favourite ice cream.

-

As you rushed through the door of the conference room, all eyes switched from the round table fell on you. Within an instant, heat was rising up your cheeks.

“Nice of you to join us.” Morgan teased as you slipped into a seat next to Spencer.

“Sorry,” You mumbled, scrambling to grab some of the files in front of you. “Slept in.”

A simple sentence quieted everyone back down as expressions softened across all of them.

“Slept?” JJ asked quietly, full attention on you. “You’re sleeping again?”

A smile cracked at the corner of your lips, nodding gently as you tried to keep your head down. “Yeah, first time in weeks last night.”

Everyone let you off the hook after that, it was all back to work and start filing the reports from the last case. As you all shuffled out to head back to your desks, you heard a voice behind you call your name.

Leaving just you and Hotch in the room, you felt that same heat creep right back up your neck. You stepped over towards him, only bringing yourself to meet his eyes once you were right in front of him.

“Sir, listen, about last night-“

“I’m sorry,” He stopped your babbling before you could even start. “I was out of line.”

Not what you were expecting. This morning had been hazy, Hotch slipping out with a sore neck from sleeping upright. You not even waking as he left.

But this was still-

“I shouldn’t have let myself get as close as I did,” He continued, his tone back to as professional as always. “It won’t happen again.”

“It won’t?”

Hotch couldn’t bare the look on your face. Eyes dropping in confusion and bottom lip daring to wobble. He had to steel himself, he had to walk out of that room before he did something that'd cost his career.

-

He'd completely closed down any chance for the two of you. You'd sort-of-kind-of resigned yourself to the fact it was never going to happen, but having it come crashing down right in front of you hurt more than you'd expected.

You didn't realise that you'd designated a space to him in the centre of your chest until you felt it break. Thinking back on it now, it will completely foolish to think your boss would ever dare to pursue anything with you.

But there was last night.

You'd woken briefly, just the once, and you'd felt his arm around your waist. You'd heard the beat of his heart just under your ear. You could've sworn you'd felt him press his lips against the top of your head.

That was all said and done now. If you'd known it was your only chance, you probably would've held onto it for just a little longer. You thought a hot shower after a long day would help to dissipate your feelings, but you still felt it weighing heavy on your mind.

Shuffling to the kitchen, you decided there was no other choice but to get on with things. What'd your therapist said? Keep moving forward until you have more good memories to replace the other ones?

Besides, you'd gotten on just fine before, without him. There was no reason for this to change anything.

Even after you knew how it felt to fall asleep beside him.

Swinging open the box freezer, you scanned the shelf for something to eat before your eyes fell on the scene of the crime. Last night's ice cream stared back at you with cruel intent.

You decided you'd make a spectacle of it, retrieving it from the freezer to stab a spoon right through the middle of it. The first mouthful stung, the rest was just...ice cream.

Dragging your feet towards the couch, you were nearly close enough to collapse into comfort when a knock at the door sent a fright through you that you'd never get used to. Cautiously, you pressed your eye back to the peep hole and screwed up your face in confusion.

"Sir?" You asked as the door swung open, finding Hotch back in that same place on your doorstep.

"Listen, I'm sorry-"

It was your turn to cut him off. "You really don't have to be. Like you said, it shouldn't have happened."

You'd been hesitant to look him in the eye as you spoke, roaming the spotted ceiling of your apartment hall instead. But as you shifted to catch his eyes, you found him- preocupied.

Hotch's eyes trailed further down, serious expression fixed to his features as his eyes moved to your legs. Only when you went to follow his gaze did you realise.

You'd answered the door fresh out the shower. Skin still a little damp, only in a t-shirt and a thin pair of panties.

You were standing in front of your boss in next to nothing.

And he looked like he wanted to eat you whole (he did).

He managed to clear his throat, to tear his eyes off your body and back to your face. Mustering up the courage, tensing his fists and relaxing his shoulders, he began speaking before he could think.

"I am sorry and I need to say it. I overstepped a boundary here and I put my own feelings for you over everything else and I shouldn't have. I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable-"

"Hotch-"

"I thought I was fine with keeping this in my head and I never wanted to-"

"Hotch-"

"But I just need to tell you that this wont change anything with-"

"Sir."

Finally, your interjection managed to cut through and he stopped himself. "Hotch, you've never asked me what I actually want."

His features softened a tiny amount, his fists unfurling as he willed himself to relax the rest of himself. "What do you want?"

Taking a long stride towards him, you found yourself nearly chest to chest with the man. Your hand gently ran his tie through your fingers, twisting a little to grasp it for leverage.

"You."

Hotch sucked in a deep breath, his head tilted towards you but his eyes closed. "Please don't say that."

You looked up at him from under your lashes, finding him slowly opening his eyes to watch you move even closer to him.

"Got no reason to lie to you, sir."

You heard his breath catch in his throat as Hotch moved his hands, until they were just and only resting on your hips. You felt the heat radiating off his large palms, closing in until they spanned across your lower back.

"I really shouldn't do this." His voice was a hush, he was still trying to talk himself out.

Not like you were going to let him.

"Then let me."

Closing the space between the two you, your lips pressed against the hard line of his until he opened up for you. You lead things just long enough for him to get comfortable, falling into motion and his tongue pushing forward into your mouth.

His hands tightened, gripping onto your waist like he might lose you if he let you go. Walking you back into your apartment, he blindly kicked his leg back to shut the door. Surging forward, he had the backs of your thighs against the arm of the couch.

Pulling back to take a look at you, his eyes moved to you swollen lips. His thumb came up to brush against your lower lip, gently gripping it between his fingers.

"Pretty, pretty girl," He sighed, you could feel his thigh slotting between your legs. "Such a good girl."

You couldn't stop it, the heady little moan that fell from your mouth at his words. Mixed with the soft feeling of his suit pants pressing to your core, undoubtedly you were leaving some kind of mess on the expensive trousers.

Hotch flexed his thigh, enjoying the feeling of you grinding yourself against his leg like a desperate slut. He watched as you tipped your head back, exposing the column of your throat to him.

Ducking his head, he pressed his lips in a line down your neck and biting gently at the join of your shoulder. "Get up on the couch."

His voice was a rumble in his chest, but there was a command in there that had you moving without being told twice. You went to sit down on it, but Hotch caught you and spun you slightly till you were falling onto the cushions on your knees.

Arms slung over the back of the couch and ass pointed out, you looked back over your shoulders with hazy eyes. Hotch slipped his suit jacket off, throwing it across a chair as he started to roll up his sleeves.

It was so simple, such an easy move but it had an effect on you like nothing else. His strong arms came into view and the veins on his hands flexed as he rolled the fabric. You could feel the damp spot growing on your panties.

This was a different Hotch than the one that stayed over the other night. This was closer to the one that sat behind his desk, stoic and unshakeable. Part of you knew the desperation that was hiding behind the stern look on his face.

You two really had one shot at this. The voice in the back of your head was telling you to enjoy this, it'd never happen again.

Snapping you from your thoughts, you felt two long fingers run up the length of your cunt. Even through the thin fabric of your underwear, you could feel his rough grasp as he gently began to rub at your clit.

Your head lolled forward, a gasp sounding from your chest as you backed your hips towards his touch. As he slid your panties to the side, fingers now running right through your wetness, you could hear the sound of him drawing down his fly.

"I've tried so hard- from the moment I met you-" The words fell from his lips, his knee coming up on the couch to get closer. "I've thought about this moment every night."

Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head, feeling his firm chest press to your back as his words spurred you on. You could picture it in your mind, your boss in the shower, alone in his bed- his hand fisting at his cock as he thought of you.

Pretty you, sweet and kind you. Always the first to do what he says, to look at him with those glassy eyes and say "yes, sir." To him, this was inevitable.

It was only ever a matter of time.

Swiping up the slick from between your legs, you looked back quickly to see him running it across the head of his cock. Your jaw dropped slightly, seeing the size of him as he dragged his hand down the length of it.

"Fuck- that's big."

You didn't even mean to say it out loud. Hotch chuckled as your words, his brows raising slightly as he did.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," He cooed, lining himself up with your entrance. "We'll make it fit."

Your eyes squeezed shut and a drawn out, frankly pornographic, moan fell out. Hotch groaned deep in his chest as he sunk into you, feeling the tight grip of your soaking cunt.

Feeling the press of his lips on your shoulder blade, he made it in fully before he stilled. He was giving you a moment, letting you catch your breath despite the ever-present need to absolutely wreck you.

Reaching back, you franticly tapped at his hip. Quiet pleas of "move, please move" filling the space around you. He was kind, he gave you exactly what you needed as he began to roll his hips into yours.

One of his hands firmly held your hip, the other ran underneath your t-shirt so he could grip at your chest. He cupped one of your breasts, rolling it round in his large palm as he groaned into the crook of your neck.

"God- you feel so good, sweetheart."

You whimpered for him, a pathetic whine sounding from you as you bucked your hips back against him. The hand on your hip began to slip forward, fingers coming around to rub against your clit.

From the speed in which he was fucking into you, the frantic movements of his fingers, the clip of his breath- he was trying hard to hold on. He was doing whatever he could to keep his cool but he was finding it increasingly difficult.

The prettiest girl he'd ever laid his eyes on, the subject of all his inappropriate desires was knelt in front of him. You were somehow tighter than he'd dreamed, somehow sounded sweeter than he'd imagined.

You were calling out his name, chants of "Aaron, fuck, Aaron-" that were no doubt slinking through the thin walls of this apartment and keeping the neighbours up.

He didn't care, he'd get you to tell the whole fucking city if he could. When you felt this good, when you looked this pretty for him? He'd throw his whole career to the fucking wind if it meant he got to do this whenever he wanted.

Maybe- maybe not that far. But Hotch wasn't really in the position to be thinking logically right now. Not when you were turning back over your shoulder to capture his lips, moaning straight down his throat as he continued to sink his hips into you.

"Fuck- you're so deep, sir."

Hotch could've come right then, there was no way he could keep it together when you were saying it like that. He knew good and well that this is why this was never meant to happen.

How was he meant to go back to work and deal with you calling him that, when he's heard just how good it could sound?

He sped up his fingers, messy circles rubbing at your clit as your whole body began to tense. He felt your back arching, pushing back into his chest as you cried out.

"God- I'm gonna'- Aaron- I'm gonna' cum-" Was all you could manage before you clenched around him.

Suddenly, your vice grip released and you were falling limp against the couch with a whimper. Hotch fucked you through it, feeling the shocks wracking your body as he drew out your orgasm as long as he could.

Hotch watched over you, seeing the blissed out expression on your face as you came for him. He looked down to see the way your cunt fluttered around him, a wet mess left on the shaft of his cock.

Taking mental note, he knew that he'd never be able to forget this. His one chance to have you like this, to hold you and feel you gripped around him. The sight of you took over him, his hips stuttering as he gripped hard on your hips.

You opened your eyes just in time to see his head tipped back, strong arms and chest straining against his dress shirt. Hotch's lips parted as a quiet moan of your name ripped from his chest.

Quickly, he slipped himself out as he stroked himself over your ass. Long fingers pulled your panties down around your thighs as hot ropes of cum painted your lower back and behind. Your eyes were growing hazier but you kept them open to watch as he did it.

You were slumped over the back of the couch, high dissipating through your body as you heard him tuck himself back into his trousers. You could hear him moving away, but soon he returned with a warm cloth against your back.

Slipping your panties back into place, he turned you around gently and settled you into his side. Right back where things had started, your sleepy body falling into him.

You both knew it, that this would be the last time. This would never go anywhere else. But there was part of you that'd become content with that, getting used to the strong beat of his heart beside your ear.

Feeling a strong hand brush against your face, this time you were sure of it. His lips pressed softly against the top of your head as you began to drift off asleep.

You knew he'd been gone again when you woke up, you'd both show up to work like all of this hadn't happened. But that was okay, you felt the sleep overtaking you- a feeling that you'd missed.

You slept absolutely soundly, for the second time in weeks.

[ohimsummer]

LOWKEY, SHE’S SO SWEET ft. SUGURU GETO

— minors dni, light angst?, suguru x fem! reader, penetrative sex, mention of gojo x reader (one kiss), slight dumbification, nipple play, biting/hickeys, making out, lovesick! suguru, what could’ve been a creampie, pussy taps, dry humping, reader gets a little flustered (duh it’s suguru), pussy whipped suguru ?, a little proofread

wc 3.3k

Gojo had a lot of bad habits. Eating an over abundance of sweets, not taking things seriously, hiding his feelings, along with procrastinating and, more importantly, avoiding things he shouldn’t.

“Since when were you such a coward?,” Shoko asks and elbows him in the ribs.

He faces away, a lip jutted out as he mumbles a response. “‘M not a coward, I just don’t like her in that way.”

Suguru stands nearby, lighting a cigarette as he eavesdrops on the conversation. The lighter falls deep into his pocket, while he’s wondering how he could have such an absolute idiot as his best friend. People who don’t like someone else ‘in that way’ don’t get butterflies when they kiss that person, but he digresses. If Gojo wants to let you go and keep denying his own feelings, so be it. Suguru will gladly swoop you up and make you his own. Ever since that kiss you and Satoru had shared, one the former was adamant meant nothing because he definitely wasn’t in love with you, the two of you had been avoiding each other for a few weeks now. Well, Gojo was avoiding you. Geto discovered through Shoko that you just didn’t want to force him into anything, putting Gojo’s feelings above your own and essentially condoning his childish actions—and that you were struggling to come to terms with the fact that you’d wasted your first real kiss on someone who apparently thought you meant nothing special.

A week after the incident, Geto was over at your place again, as he often was since you two did hang out a lot. Shoulders drooped, the usual playfulness in your voice is gone, he never gets a good look at your face and that’s on purpose. At that point, it was too hard to conceal your emotions about the whole thing—Geto can read you like an open book, and the conversation wouldn’t be worth the heartache. You’re nothing like yourself. If he’s being honest, Suguru’s annoyed and a little bit jealous that you’re this way over his friend. He could treat you so much better. He’s not the type that needs to be pushed so hard just to admit his feelings; the type to just up and pretend his friend of almost a decade doesn’t exist anymore over one kiss.

It’s not like Geto was being unfair here. He’d been eyeing you for years already, anyway, stuck watching you pine after—and now, lose sleep over—his snowy-haired best friend. Almost two months had passed, and this was the final straw to push Geto over the edge. If the strongest sorcerer in the world was going to waste both his own and your time, then Geto would move things along himself.

“Glad your mission went well.,” Suguru says as you usher him into your spacious apartment, coming to check on you after an especially grueling curse you’d been assigned to kill.

“Oh yeah, easy-peasy.,” you laugh. Your hand waves through the air as if swatting away a fly. “Didn’t even break a sweat.”

He’s used to this, your bravado after every mission, regardless of how dangerous it actually was. Something to lighten the mood after just putting your life on the line. You’re similar to Gojo in that aspect, only the tiredness behind your words and expression is far more evident, but you power through regardless. Calm and collected as ever, pouring yourself a glass of milk and gesturing a chilled water bottle at your guest in offering. Geto rests on the couch with an arm slung over the back as he watches you toss the half-empty jug within the fridge, before prancing over to him with a playful grin.

“Milk?” An airy chuckle puffs from his lips.

Your eyes narrow as you toss the bottle into his lap, your own glass hesitating before your mouth. “Listen, I had a craving while I was out, and it’s going to help my bones grow. I have to catch up to you and Gojo somehow.”

Your silly comment elicits a tugging at Suguru’s lips, ignoring again how you’ve started using his friend’s last name. There’s a flicker of discomfort that crosses your features at the thought of Gojo—he’s noticed your sudden unease at the mention of the sorcerer—before you’re chugging the milk in swift gulps. Geto sees the tension, traces of it at least, leave you through the relaxation of your shoulders.

“So,” you lower the glass just a little, tongue swiping the milk mustache below your nose. “Wanna watch a movie? You don’t have a mission tomorrow, right?”

A shake of his head. “Nope. I’m all yours for the night.” His cheeky words brings a warmth to your face.

Geto lets you pick the movie, giving in to you like he usually does, and accepts the invitation to sprawl out on your bed upstairs. It’s more spacious than the couch, and also adorned with various plushies to protect you both from the frights of the dreadful movie about to play. It’s a typical psychological horror—filled with cheap jumpscares and agonizing suspense in the form of characters lingering through the shadows. He’s never seen this film before, so Geto should be paying attention because he knows you like to discuss after, but he just can’t. Not with both your sides pressed together and the heat of your body radiating onto him, or when your head lolls against his shoulder, face half-hidden behind the fuzzy dog plush in your arms.

It’s sweet, the way you jolt when a character springs from behind a corner, squealing in fright, lowering just a little further behind the stuffed animal. His heart races a little faster when you cower against him, eyes soften a little more at your goofy comments about the idiotic choices of the cast members. You, laughing at your own words, which makes him laugh in turn, and Suguru feels like he’s just falling more in love with you and your being.

Another hair-raising scene occurs, and Geto slinks a comforting arm around your shoulder, face growing warm when you shuffle to sink further into him. From the corner of his eye, he can see the fear written on your face. It’s amusing and just endearing really, how you’re seemingly more frightened by the fake movie monster than an actual cursed spirit. His hand snakes over your face to cover your eyes, fingers spread so you may peek through, and Geto chuckles when you scrunch your nose up at him.

“Are you trying to say I look scared–!”, The accusation barely leaving your mouth before a loud gasp erupts from your throat, the source of your shock being the sudden loud noise of a bookshelf falling in the movie. Alas, your boldness is thwarted by another cheap scare.

“Ah, silly me. Of course not.” Geto’s voice is mocking as he brushes hair from your face. “So fearless, I can tell.”

“Shut up, that doesn’t count, you distracted me.”

He laughs again. “Oh, so you’re gonna pin that reaction on me?”

You mumble into the stuffed dog something unintelligible, face half concealed against Geto’s chest. His hand falls to rest on your shoulder, drawing circles and then hearts into the warm skin of your body. You squeeze an arm behind yourself to wrap around him, giggling when he turns to glance at your smaller hand on his other side.

“So you won’t be scared the rest of the movie.,” you tease with a toothy grin.

“Me?” He thinks you’re ridiculous in the cutest way. “I haven’t jumped once.”

“Yeah, whatever, you’re lucky I was too busy watching the movie to notice you shivering over there.” The faint smell of his cologne is intoxicating from this distance. “Your heart’s probably pounding right now.”

It is, Geto thinks, but not for the reasons you’re thinking. Less of the movie, and more of your pretty face inches from his. The film continues playing on your laptop, a scene shot at night and through the dark screen, Geto admires you in the reflection. Those wide, doe-eyes seemingly hyper-focused on what’s in front of you, darting to take in everything on display—maybe you’d find an Easter egg in this shot, some reference to another movie, perhaps? Your breathing hitches when a sound makes the main character twist to look behind them, and Geto finds himself hugging you just a little bit tighter.

“I’m fine, y’know.” You huff the sentence out at him, catching his curious gaze through the dark reflection of your laptop. “Why are staring at me like that?”

Your head raises, turning to confront him. Amongst the love in Suguru’s eyes, you see hints of fondness, soft and subtle as he studies you. And behind that, something else that’s not so innocent. It all intrigues you.

“Got something on your mind, Suguru?”

This was supposed to be happening with Gojo. Or you’d originally hoped it would, anyway.

The movie was long forgotten, laptop dark as the credits had ended a while ago. The device teetered along the edge of your bed before falling, luckily cushioned by the discarded yellow puppy plush that’d met the floor through Geto’s foot.

Your moans bounce around the room, occasionally colliding with his grunts of satisfaction as Suguru’s tongue danced around in your mouth, him nibbling on your bottom lip as a hand crept up your shirt. Shaky legs squeeze around his waist, parted by Geto’s knee, and you grind against the flex of his thigh to relieve the building ache in your core.

There’s the soft smack of parting lips whenever Suguru breaks away, eager to shower kisses along your exposed neck, littered with the dark marks of his possession—then he returns for the taste of strawberry on your lips again. There it is again, this endearing sweetness about you, it’s engraved into your very being: your laugh, your smile, your silly jokes, the flavor of your kiss. A needy grip, wandering hands that don’t know their destination, rubbing over Suguru’s shoulders, his back, gripping his nape and threading amongst dark strands of long hair. In the back of his mind, he can’t help wonder if Gojo had an experience such as this and, if so, how he could ever risk never being able to go through it again?

It only takes one hand to unclasp your bra with expert fingers. The undergarment is inched away to expose your breasts, and soon, your shirt with it to leave your top half unveiled for Suguru’s longing gaze.

“Fuck, you’re perfect…,” he mutters to himself, pink dusting the tops of his cheeks. Satoru’s such an idiot, he thinks, missing out on this, on you.

Your hot pants graze his skin; fuzzy, indecisive eyes flicker between Geto’s flushed face and the prominent tent in his sweats, where it just brushes your panties and sends a flood of wetness between your thighs. Trembling hands finally find purchase on his shoulder and behind his neck, where you pull him towards your body, arched to raise your tits and the gesture sends an intense throbbing straight to Suguru’s dick. Offering yourself to him like that, wordlessly begging for his mouth to indulge in you—he’s wrapped so right around your finger, just a lovesick fool for you.

A sharp gasp slips out—Geto’s mouth meets one of your stiffened nipples, rolling it on his tongue before tugging it between his teeth. ‘Ah! Suguru!’ you mewl his name with your head sinking into plush pillows, and he gropes your other lonely breast with a large hand, thumbing the hard bud and pinching it between his fingers.

It’s easy to match the greedy rhythm of his hips, and you uplift your own to meet the grinding of his erection against your heated pussy. A loving kiss pressed to your chest, over the swell of your tits, a bite or two in between while he worships your body. “M—!” Geto cuts you off with a harsh suck of your nipple, prompting a desperate whine from your throat. “O-oh, god—! Fuck, Suguru, k-keep going!”

He pauses the feverish assault on your chest, licking a stripe up the center of your throat, and muttering sweet nothings over your glistening skin before continuing ministrations on the pebbled buds. Your legs hug tight around Geto’s hips, pulling him ever closer until the stiffness in his pants massages your clit through sopping wet panties. Drool soaks your chest, messy and riddled with a new array of bite marks and blemishes. Evidence of Suguru’s obsession, and a clear claim over you because you’re all his now.

“Suguruu…”, you jut out a lip when dark eyes move in your direction, tongue hesitating on your nipple. “Hurry, pleasee?” You whine and flutter long lashes, purposefully grinding against his length again in a needy plea.

He gives one last suck on the erect nub, causing your mouth to fall open with a small moan, and Geto balances himself on an elbow next to your head, easing fingers beneath the waistline of your panties. Snorting, his eyes trail over your heaving form, watching your own fingers tug at the hem of his pants.

“My darling’s so eager, isn’t she?” It’s a soft taunt that fills your ears, makes you conscious of the blazing heat in your veins that sets fire to your skin. “Can’t be that desperate for me, can you? Want me in this pussy that bad?”

Your clit throbs in response, and you keep fingers tucked into Suguru’s sweats, pulling them down for a glimpse at the dark hairs of his happy trail, before growing a little more embarrassed and hiding it away again. He chuckles at your shy behavior.

“Shut up.,” you search the room, pouting, for something else to look at. “You can’t get me like this and then be so mean.”

He lowers himself towards you. “Like what?” A little closer, now locks of his hair brush your face. “Getting this pussy all sloppy and wet for me? Begging to have my cum stuffed in her?”

Eyes widening, you break his gaze, cramming your lids shut as your face twists with a look of bashfulness. “God, Suguru, you are sooo–!” Hot? Dirty? Perverted? “Embarrassing!,” you finally groan in frustration.

Suguru sits up to stare down at the soaked wet patch staining your panties. ‘I’ll tell you what’s embarassing…’ and you give a playful glare at his comment. He chuckles, and adjusts both your legs to rest on his left side before fingers hook beneath the fabric, pulling it off in one swift motion. The slickness of your pussy is a sight to behold, mouth-watering. Juices cascade down your thighs, drenches his protruding digits as he slides them up and down your fluttering hole that threatens to suck him in and never let go.

“ ‘S not my fault, she just knows what she likes.” Geto marvels at how easily his thick finger sinks in, cock twitching at your lengthy whine. “And I think right now she’d like me to break her in.”

He’s so insufferable. “Suguru–“

“God, I’m gonna make this pussy mine, just wait.,” he sighs. The squeeze of your walls at his promise is mesmerizing—your words can’t fly high enough to reach him in the clouds. “Til you can’t remember anything but the shape of my dick, gonna breed this tight fucking hole–“

“I think actions speak louder than words, Suguru.”

Your little taunt pulls Geto out of his daydreams. “Oh, you’re going to be much louder than my actions, darling.”

It’s like sand on your tongue the way your mouth goes dry, him grinning at your flustered expression as he frees his cock from it’s prison. Precum drools from the tip, leaking down his length to leave a stain on his dark sweats. Your tongue darts over your lips, craving just a taste, a desire to encompass his bobbing length in the safe warmth of your mouth.

He glides it over your spasming pussy, making a mess as precum and slick smears everywhere. Amusement dances in Geto’s eyes when he slaps the tip a few times against your clit, sending a jolt through you and bringing a cry from within your throat. He does it again, circles your clit with his tip until your hips are gyrating to match his movements and tears prick the corners of your eyes. ‘Suguru…’ falls off your lips once more in a pathetic plea, and Geto can’t wait any longer when you blink so innocently at him, sigh so prettily at his teasing motions.

It burns a little, the stretch of his fat tip making its way inside. But Geto is slow and patient—he notes any sign of discomfort as he awaits your go ahead, as torturous as it is, especially when the deepest parts of your pussy are calling for him. Your gooey walls are snug around his length, holding him so tight and inviting him inside as inches sink deeper into your fluttering heat—it’s maddening. As Geto finally bottoms out, he cages you between his arms, face flushed pink and framed by long, jet-black waves of hair. So pretty. And his pleasured smile wavers for just a second. You’re so fucked out already that you don’t even know you just mumbled that out loud. Looks like you’re both a pair of lovesick fools.

“F–fuck me, please.,” you whimper. He won’t make you ask twice. Lazy yet deliberate, the drag of Suguru’s cock has your head reeling, especially when he keeps brushing that spot inside you, sending floods of euphoria throughout your body.

Your arms move to wrap around his neck, tangling fingers in his hair and pulling him closer. “S-so full, Suguru, it f–eels, feels s’ fucking good, don’t stop.” And he replies with a low grunt, ‘shit, I won’t, could never’ as his pace quickens. Tears cast a blurry haze over your vision, sounds of skin against skin picking up in your ears, along with desperate, broken moans from either of you. The sharpness of your nails leave a collection of scratches along Suguru’s back, and the slight pain of it all only fuels the plunge of his dick, making itself at home within the gumminess of your walls. He uses a hand to shift your pelvis, moving himself for a deeper angle and fucking hard into your sweet spot. ‘Oh, fuck, fuck!’ You cry into Geto’s ear, tugging his hair and grasping at him to fit against you. ‘S-Suguru..! Right there–!’, finished off with a loud cry. Your orgasm is right around the corner, a blazing pool of desire overflowing in the pit of your stomach.

“C–um..!” You’re starting to babble, mindless and stupid. “Inside, inside, Suguru!”

And he wants to, trust, but it wouldn’t exactly be responsible without a condom on or knowing whether or not you’re on the pill. Maybe if he was a little less caring—or not tucked away in the crevice of your neck to hide from the hypnotizing power of your eyes—he’d make good on his promise and fill your pussy up until you couldn’t take it anymore. It’s so tempting, the heavy urge to mark your insides with his seed, til they were coated in white, but he just can’t be sure. So while you’re shivering and crying, high off your own orgasm, Suguru uses his last remnants of sensibility. He pulls out, low, raspy grunts and a hiss leaving him at the sight of his cum painting your thighs, spurting onto your swollen clit and leaking down to your quivering hole.

He collapses next to you, chests both heaving and an arm moves to wrap around your waist. Your teary eyes glaze over Geto in his divine glory, too dazed to see him doing the same to you.

“What’s with that face?,” he pants a short chuckle at the pout of your lips.

You turn further onto your side, pressing your bare bodies together and wrapping an arm around his neck, the other rubbing through his hair. “Told you to cum inside me, you wasted it everywhere.”

Suguru scoffs, playful. “Couldn’t risk it, sweetheart, I’d be hooked after one go.”

A shiver runs down his spine as you brush a thumb over his nape. “Oh, is that so bad? Thought you were gonna stuff me, Sugu, you don’t wanna breed this little hole and fill me up?”

“…Keep talking like that and I might.”

tagz: @anthoosies @mysugu

[whore-ibly-hot]

Hi!❤️❤️

How would Harrison react if reader outright confessed to him and wanted to be in a relationship?

Your writing is really nice btw

-Florida Man

He would be absolutely thrilled, if not a little disappointed only because he wanted to be the one to confess. He had some gran gesture halfway planned out, but maybe he put it off too long.

He's very physical when you confess, but also very cautious. He hides his yandere side better than the other boys, so he doesn't want to overwhelm you with questions. This relationship is all about your comfort. He'll pick you up in a big hug and spin you around, then immediately ask you about sharing his bed, sharing clothes and setting boundaries.

He'd be glad to continue doing the same things he usually does with you, but now under the guise of a date. He's so happy to finally hold you and kiss you, it's enough to make him ignore the stiffy he's gotten. Almost.

You aren't going to be allowed to sleep on your bed on your side of the dorm. You are now permanently glued into his bed. He'll hold you and whisper out sweet things about how happy he is that you're finally dating.

"M' so fuckin' happy..."

"Guess you'll have to wear my jerseys at my games now. Heh, maybe I can wear something of yours for good luck?"

He's determined that since you 'stole' the confession from him, as he so often teases you about, that he's going to be one step ahead from now on. Anniversary? He's got a cozy booth at a local diner all picked out. He likes to keep it thoughtful, and you both used to go there after his games all the time. If your able to get your period, he's all hands on deck. Its... odd he always seems to know your cycle, but he explains it away as just a 'roommate' thing. It's not like he's tracking it or anything.

He'd be more protective, you being the one to ask him out surely means you want all of him, right? He's willing to get more rough with Evan, or report Pez for getting you all high and fuzzy. You'll still love him, won't you?

Since you've agreed to date him, he's thrilled to introduce you to his family, he's always been there golden boy and he wants more than anything for them to like you. The first school break after he met you, when he was back with his parents, he had lots of time to look at family photos and see his parents being domestic. That's when he made up his mind, when he got you to be his, or when you got him, he'd propose not long after. He'd wanted that family life with you, a white picket fence and a home. You practically shared a home anyways, your roommates! He plans to propose quickly, he's not gonna let you beat him to it. Besides, your father wouldn't be thrilled, his schools star athlete dating his only child, it's a match made in heaven.

It's past three in the morning, and Harris9n should be resting, but every moment he goes to close his eyes feels like a moment he wastes, considering he could be looking at your sweet, sleeping form curled up in his big arm. He adjusts his position to let you further press into his chest, and he lets out a shaky sigh as quietly as he can. "Love you..." he whispers. "You're gonna look so pretty on our wedding day, yeah? Dress or suit, I don't care. I think I'd just wanna see you in white." He rambles on throughout the night until you wake up, and his quickly apologizes for talking too much.

[nightprompts]

&. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

( dialogue prompts taken from the second season of hulu's the bear, created by christopher storer. feel free to edit and change as you seem fit. )

❛ you ever think about purpose? ❜

❛ i love you, but i do not have time for this, alright? ❜

❛ i have time for this. ❜

❛ you know what the fuck you're doing. you love this shit. it's fun for you. i don't have that. ❜

❛ i'm afraid one day, i'm gonna wake up and you guys are all just gonna just drop this ass. ❜

❛ if this shit is not fun for you, what the fuck is fun for you? ❜

❛ i'm not making the same mistakes i made last time. ❜

❛ what kind of insurance coverage do we have for people falling through the fucking wall? ❜

❛ sometimes, i look like february. ❜

❛ you want a sprite? you look kinda green. ❜

❛ can i ask you something and you can tell me to fuck off if you want? ❜

❛ chef, that's way too much acid. ❜

❛ you, uh, making a sundae? ❜

❛ that actually sounds delicious. ❜

❛ because you're the bear and i remember you. ❜

❛ i love taking care of you. and i always will. you know that? ❜

❛ i'm glad i came 'cause i get to eat this. ❜

❛ i gotta come up with three really great desserts. you got any ideas? ❜

❛ you ever made ice cream before, chef? want to? ❜

❛ it kind of tastes like a, um... minty snickers bar. ❜

❛ so how long you been a cook? ❜

❛ how’d you get good at this? ❜

❛ you can spend all the time in the world in here, but if you don't spend enough time out there... you know? ❜

❛ speaking of dead brothers, do you wanna go to a party? ❜

❛ it looks so pretty on you. you should keep it. ❜

❛ what's going on with you? i know there's something. just tell me. ❜

❛ what are you talking about, i don't give a fuck? why would you say that to me? i give like a huge fuck. ❜

❛ you're not by yourself, alright? i'm right here with you. ❜

❛ did you just throw a fork at me? ❜

❛ i think time spent doing this is time well spent. ❜

❛ never too late to start over. ❜

❛ i just want you to know... that this is really nice. ❜

❛ i'm thinking you're very, very beautiful. ❜

❛ we just don't say hello anymore? ❜

❛ you're wearing a suit? ❜

❛ uh, yeah, i wear suits now. ❜

❛ i'm sorry if i took anything out on you and if I treated you like shit. ❜

❛ i actually do think that we could fit good together. ❜

❛ i could be good at things that you don't really wanna do. and you're obviously really great at a whole bunch of stuff that I don't know how to do, you know? ❜

❛ i'm wearing a suit 'cause it makes me feel better about myself. ❜

❛ i know that you're trying. i see that you're trying. ❜

❛ you just came from a funeral? ❜

❛ yeah, a funeral of all my enemies. ❜

❛ you want me to make you some coffee? ❜

❛ i just need your focus like you need mine. ❜

❛ you good? ❜

❛ what's your relationship with your mom like? ❜

❛ alright, chef, i need you to salt that like a sidewalk. ❜

❛ looks gorgeous, chef. ❜

❛ i haven't eaten yet. ❜

❛ oh, let me make you something. ❜

❛ yeah, i can make you an omelet. ❜

❛ that wasn't like an ask out or anything, was it? ❜

❛  i'm looking really good. i 'm thinking you should start calling me chef. ❜

❛ well, i'mma keep calling you jagoff, 'cause that's what you like. ❜

❛ you deserve my full focus. ❜

❛ i guess i'm scared that i don't have what it takes to not fuck this up. ❜

❛ you're not gonna fuck it up. ❜

❛ i fuck things up all the time, like, every day. ❜

❛ you could do this without me. ❜

❛ i couldn't do it without you. i wouldn't even wanna to do it without you. ❜

❛ you make me better at this. ❜

❛ you still love to cook, right? ❜

❛ how's the wine? ❜

❛ yo. we're low on forks, chef. ❜

❛ okay, let's start firing some caviar, please. ❜

❛ i was just gonna say how special and cool and great this place is and how i'm the most proud of you ever. ❜

❛ i really appreciate you being so patient with me. ❜

❛ do i have time to go outside and scream "fuck"? ❜

❛ just don't tell them you saw me, 'cause this is embarrassing. ❜

❛ i love them so much. i don't know how to show it. ❜

❛ i don't know how to say i'm sorry. ❜

❛ i need you to say it's okay. ❜

❛ you are being so fucking weird, man. ❜

❛ i'm stuck in a goddamn refrigerator on the opening night of my fucking restaurant. ❜

❛ i failed you guys and it's not gonna happen again. ❜

❛ maybe i'm just not built for this. ❜

❛ because no amount of good is worth how terrible this feels. ❜

❛ i'm really sorry you feel that way. ❜

❛ would you shut the fuck up and get me the fuck outta here, please? ❜

❛ i don't understand why you can't just let something good happen for once in your fucking life? ❜

❛ you wanna talk to me about my fucking kid? at least i got a kid. ❜

❛ where were you when i fucking put your brother in the ground, you selfish piece of shit? ❜

❛ i fucking love you! ❜

❛ you fucking need me. ❜

❛ i just had this sudden urge to tell you that i've always had this, like, massive crush on you. ❜

❛ i love you, chef. ❜

[buckymorelikefuckme]

small but mighty

jake jensen x fem reader

words: 712

warnings & tags: **18+ ONLY** smut ahead besties, teasing, sex toys / use of sex toy (m receiving), handjob. pls let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: jakey baby go brrrr 🫨🫨🫨 lmao no but really this is just self indulgent filth idk what else to tell ya. i teased it here~ quickly read through but any and all mistakes are my own. feedback is greatly appreciated and highly encouraged! xoxo

jake jensen masterlist || main masterlist

He shouldn't have asked. It’s all he can think at the moment as his pulse throbs in his ears and his skin tingles with warmth. His entire being is humming with energy that he doesn't really know what to do with. He really shouldn't have asked.

But, like, he’s also kind of glad he did?

Listen. He found your toys—the whole trunk of them—and amidst the varying sizes and styles of dildos and nipple clamps and leather harnesses and bindings and every other thing that had him hard within minutes, he found a tiny and unassuming vibrator that he frowned at. Compared to everything else, he didn't really see what could be worth keeping this little toy for with the bells and whistles of the others.

So, naturally, after you found him sitting on the floor with your, ahem, toy box open and an expression on his face like he'd found a lost treasure, Jake asked what could be so great about it.

The grin you sent his way scared him and also made his dick twitch.

You told him a practical demonstration would be better. He'd been too blinded by his horniness to do anything besides hastily agree and immediately started stripping.

Which leads to the present. You're sitting on his legs in an effort to keep him still and it's only halfway working. But, in his defense, you've also got his cock in a firm grip, messy with lube and buzzing from the bullet vibrator he'd mistakenly judged too harshly. You've been dragging it along the length of him at an agonizing pace and he seriously can't help the way he writhes and twitches.

“Still think it's not a useful toy?” you ask, circling his tip with a look of concentration.

Jake’s hips buck beneath you, jostling you a bit. He apologizes breathlessly and tries to swallow past his dry mouth.

“N-No, I… I get it,” he acquiesces.

You smile at him, glancing at him from under your lashes. “Yeah? Do you think it feels good just here?” you wonder as you run it across his perineum. “Or do you think it would feel good elsewhere?”

“Wha…?”

His brain can't make sense of the question, but it catches on rather quickly when you take the vibrator away from his cock and tease his nipples with it. He gasps, gaze dropping where his nipples are becoming more sensitive than he ever thought they could. Goosebumps rise across his flesh and he shivers, closing his eyes as he pants for breath.

“They're very versatile,” you muse lightly.

“Yeah,” he replies, voice strained.

Slowly, you trail it down his chest and stomach, going past his leaking erection and to his balls. He jumps and lets out an undignified noise, and you choose that moment to begin stroking him in fast motions, slick sounds filling the air and mixing with his growing moans.

“Size doesn't matter, baby,” you tease.

He tries to laugh, but it comes out more like a sob. The muscles in his stomach clench and unclench, his hands torn between fisting the sheets and squeezing your hips as his orgasm creeps nearer. It's approaching rapidly and he tries to warn you, feels his thighs tense, but his jaw only slackens enough to let a guttural groan slip out.

“Come for me,” you whisper, and he can only do as he's told, shuddering as his cock pulses in your hand then spurts his release, dripping down your wrist and his balls.

He hears the vibrator get switched off, yet his ears are still buzzing from the pleasure racing through his veins. It takes him a moment to come down and to register the touch of your hands petting at his arms and shoulders.

“That thing packs a punch, huh?” he jokes.

You giggle and lean over him to give him a sweet kiss. “I know I said size doesn't matter,” you say, then bite your lip to contain your next giggle, “but I love your big dick, baby.”

Jake flushes and huffs, pinching your thigh and grunting when you pinch his nipple in retaliation. He's sated and more than happy that his silly question yielded such pleasing results.

Maybe he can ask about some more of your toys. You know, for science.

[idiotgojo]

chat can we please have a toji x reader and they’re childhood friends?

hope you enjoy anon!

warning; mutual pining, drunk toji, bar scene, nothing much really just fluff

The night air felt heavy as you stormed into the dimly lit bar, your eyes searching frantically for one person: Toji Fushiguro. After days of worry, combing through every place he might've been, you finally spotted him—sitting casually at the bar, drink in hand, looking like nothing had happened. You were glad to see him alive but furious was an understatement.

You marched over ready to give him an earful,

"Toji!" you shouted his name, loud enough to bring the entire bar to a standstill, but he barely reacted. As if used to your antics, as if this hadn't almost become a routine for the both of you for 20-plus years.

"Oh... heyyy?" he said deeply relaxed and nonchalant "totally did not expect you to be here"

You could feel your eye twitch with rage. how dare he? How could he act like he didn't disappear for days longer than the last time?

"Are you kidding me?!" you shouted, your voice shaking angrily. "I've been looking for you for days! You just sit here like nothing happened?!"

Toji blinked slowly, then took another sip of his drink, completely unfazed by your outburst. "I was fine."

"I thought you were dead" You crossed your arms.

"takes more than a mission to take me out" he chuckled.

Slamming your hand on the bar counter, you made several nearby glasses rattle, drawing even more attention from the others.

Toji leaned back in his chair, watching you with a bemused look, clearly enjoying how worked up you were. "You worry too much," he said with a shrug.

You've had enough for the night and so has he honestly. You grab his arm and roughly yank him up from the barstool. He chuckled softly, letting you drag him out of the bar, too entertained by your reaction to protest.

You stormed down the street still angry while Toji towed behind a little slower, stumbling from all those drinks catching up to him. He was clearly drunk, but still managing to keep his usual confident swagger.

"I don't know why you're always so mad at me," he said, a teasing slur to his voice. "It's kinda cute, though." you didn't bother to reply, simply shooting him a glare.

-

When you finally reached your apartment, you all but shoved him inside. Toji leaned against the wall, his eyes heavy-lidded as he gave you a lazy grin. "You always take care of me," he mumbled, sounding almost fond. "I don't deserve you."

You took off your shoes, making your way to the kitchen to get him some water. He takes small, slow steps towards you. His drunken gaze lingered on you for a moment before he spoke, his voice softer now. "You should be my girlfriend."

The words hung in the air, catching you completely off guard. You stared at him, your hand frozen in mid-air as you reached for the water bottle you had set on the table for him. "What?" you asked, certain you had misheard him.

"be my girlfriend," Toji repeated, his grin widening just slightly.

"you're drunk. Don't say stupid things"

But he didn’t let it go. "I'm serious," he said, his voice still slurring slightly. "You're always there… yelling at me, taking care of m— you care about me, right?"

"you're reckless and do dangerous things god knows why," you say trying to keep your voice steady.

"Yeah… but you still care." silence falls between the both of you. You just stare at each other not daring to make the first move.

"I like it... When you yell at me… it means you care."

His drunken gaze might've been hazy, but there was a sincerity in his tone that you couldn't ignore. Even if he was drunk, even if he was saying it in the middle of one of his reckless moments, it felt real.

"Are you even going to remember this in the morning?" your voice softer now, less defensive.

He chuckled again, leaning against the wall with no other choice of support. "Dunno," he muttered, "but you better remind me, just in case." You let out a small laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. Toji was impossible.

"We should go to bed, you can barely stand anymore"

"We should be making out right now" "—No! We should not!" thank god the lights were low so he couldn't see the blush creeping up your cheeks.

You ushered him to his bed and he followed without protest, looking at you through a lover's lense.

There was a smile on your face as you helped him to bed, tucking him in. He grabbed your hand, his grip surprisingly strong for someone so drunk. "Night girlfrienddd,,,,," he slurred sleepily excited.

"Goodnight loser"

disclaimer; I'm not even a real writer. I just write for fun, a place to collect and keep the scenarios I create in my head before I go to bed lol. This is my first written piece! Enjoy :)

© idiotgojo 2024 do not steal or translate. if you wish to use the idea and create a better fic please tag me :)

[texas-writes]

Special Girl

Cw: pining, mentions of masturbation, piv sex, protected sex, oral (m&f receiving), fingering

The sound of your front door opening and closing was normal, someone was always on the move, but your interest was piqued when you heard your brother laughing, indicating he probably had a friend over, and you prayed it wasn’t who you thought it was

Your brother’s best friend growing up was Leon Kennedy. He was just a year older than you, and you’d always had a huge crush on him. Actually, crush was a weak word for this.

You were

hand-in-your-panties-like-your-life-depended-on-it obsessed with him.

You were a slut for him and he was none the wiser.

You sat and thought for a moment before making up your mind. Timing it perfectly, you crossed the hall to the bathroom as your brother came up the stairs with his friend, letting you see who it was.

Fuck, it was Leon.

He seemed much more handsome than he was the last time you had seen him. Maybe it was because it was summer, but his skin was tanner and his hair was more blond than usual. He was Adonis in the flesh, everything you could ever want.

You spend a few moments pretending to use the bathroom, flushing the toilet and washing your hands to make it convincing. Then you duck back across the hall and into your room.

It’s begun to get dark and you're laying on your bed wrapped in just a blanket reading National Geographic. You’d gotten accepted to Penn State for anthropology, and you wanted to spend your summer preparing for when school started up. Your walls were covered in clippings from previous issues, the city of Petra, the carved churches of Lalibela, ancient statues, any picture that interested you honestly. You loved to look around your room at them all while you thought.

You’re pondering what all you’re going to take to your dorm when you hear the garage door rumble open. Your father was home, which meant it was almost dinner time.

A groan escapes your lips as you roll off the bed and shuffle to your closet to find clothes. You clutch your blanket around your shoulders like a cloak as you dig around, pulling out an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of basketball shorts. Not exactly the best dinner outfit, but decent. You knew if you looked too nice your brother would pick on you for being a try-hard later.

When you go downstairs to help your mother set the table, you're more than surprised to see Leon doing it already.

“Oh Leon, you didn’t have to do that,” you say, reaching out a hand for the remaining silverware.

“Oh, hello,” he mumbles. “Your mom said I could stay for dinner, so it’s the least I can do.”

“Honey, you can get the plates. You know, Leon goes to Penn State too? Glad to know I’ll have someone to look out for you.”

Your cheeks turn pink at your mother’s words, and you're grateful that your back is turned. Look out for you.

“So uh, how do you like it?”

“S’alright, I guess. Better than being sent to Harvard, like my old man wanted. He wanted me to be a lawyer.”

“That’s good. Are you going for criminology like you wanted?”

“Yeah. I’m really glad to have done it. It was nice, standing up to him for once.”

“Yeah…”

After dinner’s been served and you’re just sitting there, poking at your plate, halfheartedly pretending to listen to your brother ramble about the upcoming soccer season, you can finally say you’re bored. Your father replies to whatever it was David had just said when you feel a foot brush against yours.

At first, you thought it was an accident, but when it happens again, you look up, meeting Leon’s eyes as he chews before looking back down at your plate. A few moments pass without another brush, so you cautiously stretch your leg out and bump your foot against his. Leon doesn't react to your touch, he just keeps eating.

Maybe it was an honest mistake. You mentally berate yourself for thinking he would touch you on purpose. You jump slightly when you feel his foot on your calf, gently stroking it.

“You alright, y/n,” Leon questions, looking as innocent as possible while he torments you, unbeknownst to your family.

“Yeah, just a chill, that’s all.”

“Oh, okay,” he shrugs, turning his attention back to David and your father.

Your cheeks burn and you take a couple more feeble bites before asking to be excused.

You laid awake that night, wondering what the fuck that was all about. God, you really needed to piss.

You rolled out of bed and pulled on your fluffy robe before heading to the bathroom.

When you step out of the bathroom, you bump into someone.

“Sorry David, didn’t see you.”

“And where are you going, pretty girl?”

Fuck. Nobody told you Leon was spending the night.

“J-just back to bed.”

“Why d’ya sound so nervous, hm,” he questions, backing you into the bathroom and closing the door.

“You scared me, that’s all.” Your robe was riding up and the counter was so, so cold against your bare ass.

“Just like you were chilly at dinner, right,” he questions, you can hear the grin in his voice as he lowers his head beside your ear, lifting your chin with his finger.

“Leon…”

“What, baby? Say the word and I’ll stop.”

“Please, don’t,” you whisper

He leans away and takes a step back.

“No, wait- that’s not what I meant, Leon please.”

“Ah, so you do want me then?”

You nod.

“That isn’t enough, sweetheart I want you to say it.”

“Leon, that’s not fair, please. Need you.”

He chuckles to himself and returns to his original position, lips brushing against your neck as he speaks.

“You need me, hm?”

You nod again, slightly aware of how pathetic you’re being, but too caught up in Leon’s affection to care.

“What does my pretty girl want, hm? How bad do you need me,” he whispers, brushing his fingers up your thigh and under your robe.

“Nothing on under there. Was that intentional or did I just catch you at a good time?”

“I never wear anything to bed,” you murmur, bringing your hand up to rest in his hair, giving it a slight tug as his lips abuse the tender flesh of your shoulder, teeth grazing against your collarbone as he groans.

“Go wait for me in your room. I’m gonna make sure we won’t be bothered.”

You nod softly and poke your head out of the bathroom, making sure no one's watching as you scurry across the hall into your room while Leon hangs back.

After what felt like eternity, Leon comes into your room, easing the door shut behind him and sliding the lock into place. Your nerves are absolutely shot, and you shiver as you watch Leon come towards you, the way his tight shirt hugged his broad shoulders and slim waist, accentuating his silhouette.

“Is everyone asleep,” you question, pushing yourself up in the bed, tugging your robe tighter around yourself.

“Yeah,” he hums, sliding into your bed beside you, taking a swatch of your pink satin sheets between his fingers and feeling it. “Nice sheets, I see why you sleep naked.”

You giggle and rest your head on his shoulder. You had been awkward around Leon for as long as you could remember, In middle school, watching him from across the cafeteria as he flipped through an X-Men comic and filled out the mail-in sheet on the back, or in high school when he shrugged at every girl that tried to ask him out and you had been so sure he’d give you the same answer, so you’d never bothered.

Despite being dismissive most of the time, he was there when it mattered, like your junior year, when you had snuck out and gone to a local college party and gotten absolutely smashed. Leon had been there too and followed you around all night, shielding you from grabbing hands and switching your drinks out for water as the night wore on before driving you home and helping you sneak back into your window. Or when he’d come hiking with your family and you’d gotten water intoxication and he’d carried you back to the car to cool you off and taken you to get some extra salty fries while your family finished their hike.

But things were different now, you were both adults, and you knew that he wanted you as he tilted your chin up and pressed his lips to yours softly while his free hand went up to caress your cheek. His hands were calloused from his frequent visits to the gym, but they felt so good as they roamed your features, tracing the curve of your lips. The bridge of your nose, the arch of your brow. You wanted nothing more than to feel his hands all over your body.

“Leon,” you whine, tugging at the hem of his shirt, trying to get him to take it off. He finally takes the hint and pulls his shirt off and drops it on the floor. You yelp as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into his lap.

“Shh, we still gotta be quiet, baby. Can’t get caught can we, then I can’t come visit anymore, hm?”

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting it,” you whisper, leaning in and kissing along his jaw.

“Mh, feels good,” he mumbles, exposing his neck to you as you trail kisses all across his throat, grazing your teeth along his Adam’s apple, making his breath hitch.

When you pull away your robe is barely covering enough of you to be considered decent. Leon looks up to meet your eyes, groaning when you untie your robe and let it slide down your shoulders, exposing your shoulders and the tops of your breasts. He allows his gaze to drop back to the soft plain of your tummy, the curve of your hips and the way the blanket wrapped around your hips pools between your legs just enough to cover the one thing he needs the most.

You can feel him, straining against his shorts as you cautiously lower yourself to brush your pussy along his sensitive bulge.

“You should take these off Lee,” you hum, tugging at the waistband of his shorts.

He nods and lifts his hips, allowing you to pull them down so he can kick them off. He groans as his cock springs free from the confines of his pants, standing at attention, so close to your entrance he can feel the warmth coming from you.

You shrug your robe the rest of the way off and drop it down with Leon’s clothes, moving from his lap, kneeling beside him and resting your head on his thigh and kissing it softly once before licking along the underside of his cock, making him grip at the sheets.

You tease him relentlessly, kissing and licking at the tip of his cock, your warm breath fanning against his skin. He lets out a deep groan when you finally take him in, tongue swirling around him as you take him deeper into your mouth. Tears prick the corners of your eyes as he tangles his fingers into your hair and guides you to take him into your throat.

“You’re such a good girl,” he whispers. “You’re taking me so well, fuck,” he moans bringing his other hand to caress your cheek.

Leon studies the way your body moves as you pleasure him, the arch of your back, the curve of your ass, the way you look up at him as you moan around him.

“M’gonna cum, fuck. You gonna let me cum in your mouth?”

You nod weakly as you take Leon deeper into your throat, pressing your nose against his tummy as he finishes. You lap at his tip, making sure you don't miss anything as you pull away, swallowing thickly and gasping softly as Leon pushes your hair out of your face and smoothing it down.

“You did so good for me,” he praises, stroking your cheek and motioning for you to lay back. “Let me return the favor, hm?”

“Please,” you whine, laying back on your bed, watching intently as Leon takes his place between your legs, right where you’ve always wanted him, tips of his fingers lazily trailing along your thigh while he looks up at you.

He teases your entrance before easing two of his fingers into you, making you whimper.

“I don’t normally do this, but you’re my special girl,” he whispers, ducking his head between your thighs and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. “But you have to be quiet, okay?”

“I’m your special girl,” you question, a warm blush spreading across your cheeks as he rests his head on your thigh, his hair tickling the tender flesh there.

“Always have been. Why do you think I look after you like I do? You promise you’re gonna be quiet?”

You nod and give him a gentle smile, laying back into the pillows and running your fingers through his silky hair. He curls his fingers into you, testing the honesty of your statement, pleased when you only let out a soft whimper and lock your ankles around his shoulders.

Leon takes your encouragement and buries his face between your thighs, tongue lathing against you as his fingers continue their steady rhythm inside you. Your soft moans and the way you tug at his hair are more than enough to drive him insane, urging him to focus his attention on your clit to draw more out of you, his fingers lazily curling into your sweet spot as he grinds his hips into the mattress, looking for a little relief of his own.

“Leon, ah- ‘m so close.”

You can feel him grin against you as he nudges his nose against your clit before taking it back between his lips, making you shove your fist in your mouth as he draws an orgasam out of you. He chuckles and just keeps eating you, not caring about the way your legs shake around him, or your heels digging into his back, or the way you’re dangerously close to ripping out a chunk of his sandy blond hair. No, all he cares about are those cute little noises you’re making, accented only by the occasional whine when he brushes his fingers against that spot inside you.

Finally he pulls away, tongue darting out to lick his lips as he crawls his way up to you, his fingers still buried to the hilt in your dripping cunt.

“How was that? Hm? Anyone ever done that for you before?”

You shake your head and he grins, leaning down to press a sloppy kiss to your lips. You can taste yourself and it’s one of the hottest things you think you’ve ever experienced.

“You think you’re ready for me, baby?”

“Yeah… I can take it.”

“We’ll see,” he teases, pulling his fingers out of you, making you whine at the sudden emptiness, and brings them to his mouth, sucking all of you off of them. “You know baby, you’re just so damn good, don’t want to waste it.”

You reach up and wrap an arm around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss, teasing your tongue against his lip, smiling against him when he allows the intrusion. He pulls away and you reach for him, but he doesn’t yield to your grabbing hands, reminding you that he’s just been a willing participant in your arms until now.

“You have a condom?”

“I’m on birth control.” That’s what guys really wanted to hear, right?

“Not good enough.” Oh. He actually wanted one.

“Top drawer of the nightstand, not sure they’ll fit though.”

“You flatter me. Ah, here.” He rifles through the drawer until he finds one, tearing the little foil packet open with his teeth, hissing softly as he rolls it on.

He’s back on top of you as soon as he’s got it in place, grinding his hips against yours and pulling your legs around his waist.

“See, now you can keep those pretty legs of yours around me as long as you want and we don’t have to worry.”

You giggle and reach between your bodies, taking him into your hand and giving him a couple of strokes before lining him up with your entrance. He eases himself into you until he bottoms out, using one hand to lace his fingers with yours while the other grips at your headboard.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good. Didn’t know what I was missing until now.”

He starts out with a slow pace, taking the time to pull almost completely out of you before sliding back in, relishing in the way you push your hips up to meet his. Taking it slow was almost unbearable, but you were his special girl after all, and he wanted you to know he’d look after you however you wanted, even if it meant torturing himself to get you used to him.

After a small eternity you tell him to speed up and he doesn't need to be told twice. His thrusts become short and deep, the sound of your bodies meeting filling the stuffy silence of your room as he keeps his lips on yours swallowing down the moans that tumble from your lips. He takes his hand from yours to knead at your breast, enjoying the way they bounce every time his hips slam into yours. He knows you’re close by the way you tighten around him, so he opts to lean back and grab your hips, digging his fingertips into the supple flesh there, setting a punishing pace as his own hips stutter and he lets out a whine as he cums, lazily thrusting to carry you through before pulling out and falling beside you, pulling the condom off and knotting it, dropping it into the trash can beside your bed.

“So,” he questions, propping himself up on his elbow. “How was that?”

You’re still laying there trying to catch your breath, so you just let out a choked sound of agreeance.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just-”

“Just what?”

“A lot of things. Good things. But-”

“Start small then.”

“None of my other boyfriends would kiss me after I sucked them off.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Sorry,” you laugh nervously, sure you’d already screwed it up.

“Don’t be. I’m not opposed to it. In fact I’d quite like to be your boyfriend, but what else.”

“And then you ate me out, and-”

“Go on.”

“I’ve never cum like that in my life.”

“Those other guys were missing out then,” he replies, wrapping his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the back of your head.

That’s what you always liked about Leon. No matter how much you could try to stroke his ego, he always took it humbly. You wiggle yourself around to face him and press a kiss to the tip of his freckled nose

“Hey, baby, I don’t want to just run out on you and ruin a good thing, but I gotta go back soon,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours before slipping out of your bed and getting dressed. You watch with a twinge in your chest as he makes his way towards the door.

“I understand. Are you gonna come see me again?”

“You know it baby,” he grins, opening the door and slipping out before easing it shut behind him.

[flyingwargle]

august fanfic recommendations!

this is indeed going to be a series. check out july's recommendations!

(also, feel free to give me recs! i'm kind of picky, but i promise to look at what you suggest before adding it to my 80 tabs of fics hehe. rec your own fics if you want 😎)

some of these fics are rated e!

sakuatsu

Take My Hand (Take My Whole Life Too) t. 6.1k. sakusa gets hung up on the idea of indirect kissing and indirect hand holding and becomes enamored by the idea of holding atsumu's hand. lovely prose, sakusa is insane in this (affectionate) and atsumu is very loving.

Watching You for Love t. 6.6k. sakusa moonlights as a dj and atsumu finds him out. THIS FIC!! amazing prose and imagery, and sakusa falling for atsumu is also beautiful. please give it a shot <3

Hall Pass t. 6.8k. sakusa and atsumu discuss one another's hall passes and sakusa gets hung up on why atsumu's is saeko. i admit, i still don't know what a hall pass is despite reading this, but it depicts a somewhat jealous sakusa and saeko kissing atsumu, which is more than i could ever ask for.

atsumu, atsumu, let down your hair t. 7.1k. sakusa and atsumu move from fwb to being in a relationship but it's hard to be domestic after being physical. we love healthy communication in a relationship in this house.

the 28 postcards you left me t. 8.3k. after breaking up, atsumu leaves postcards for sakusa in animal crossing. this hurt to read, especially with how in love they were, until they weren't. there's a happy ending, though <3

The Jacket In Your Closet t. 8.6k. once upon a time, atsumu gave sakusa his newly purchased jacket because he saw him uncomfortable in a crowd. atsumu's forgotten about it but sakusa never did (and continues to have a crush on him).

stuck between a rock hard place, or something m. 10.4k. atsumu starts popping boners whenever sakusa opens his mouth. hilariously written and sweet <3 this made me so glad that i like girls because the way sakusa is described here is just. wow. he really is attractive. good for atsumu.

Situated Motionless in the Center of the Heavens t. 15.1k. "For a very long time, Atsumu could barely stand Sakusa. And can you really blame him? It’s Sakusa, the human equivalent of the feeling you get when you bite into a chocolate chip cookie and realize with profound disappointment that it’s actually oatmeal raisin instead." if that doesn't convince you, just know that atsumu is dense af but he ends up realizing his love in the end.

From Afar t. 17.4k. i could probably make a list of skts fics where sakusa has some kind of ability and intends to keep everyone at arm's length until miya atsumu ruins everything. the ability that sakusa has in this is unique and plays into his mysophobic tendencies beautifully. the way he and atsumu compromise with his gift is a delight as well. just beautifully written overall <3

Again, until it's perfect. t. 18.2k. sakusa and atsumu accidentally pull off a minus tempo quick and they start practicing it. i read this after situated motionless in the center of the heavens, and let me tell you - going from dense atsumu to dense sakusa is so, so good. they're so dumb, i love them /affectionate

One Track Mind m. 18.8k. suna and osamu publicly break up and sakusa is left wondering if it's a good time to tell atsumu that he loves him. hilarious, introspective, with some spice. a perfect blend for an excellent fic <3

In Pursuit of Happiness t. 19.1k. modern magic au where sakusa works at a magic shop after selling his happiness, and atsumu is a pest trying to make him feel happy again. lovely worldbuilding and slowburn!

Better Find Another Superstition t. 21.3k. 7/7. another modern magic au where sakusa and atsumu are forced to work together to resolve an issue with the city's magic supply. hilarious prose, and very light-hearted with a cool magic system in the background. one of my favorites <3

how can I not be moved (by you) t. 26.4k. 3/3. an achingly beautiful magic au where sakusa runs an apothecary and atsumu is a warlock. the worldbuilding is rich and the slow burn is delicious. absolutely beautiful and fluffy <3

pascal's wager t. 34.1k. 6/6. a sakusa character study and his obsession with superstition from atsumu's pov. beautiful writing, lovely wingmen to help atsumu (gourd bless osamu, akaashi, and bokuto) and lovely prose <3

the awful daring of a moment's surrender m. 34.2k. 7/7. in which sakusa lies to himself that he wants nothing with atsumu but atsumu is persistent. beautiful prose (i read so much of this writer's works, they're all so good) and lovely ending <3

Teach Me, Tune Me, Tempt Me e. 38.8k. 10/10. sakusa asks atsumu to teach him about the many firsts needed to enter his first relationship. oh, the pining, the angst, and of course the smut was on point.

sunaosa

working backwards till it rhymes t. 4.2k. gin congratulates suna and osamu on their anniversary, except they aren't dating. or are they? hilarious prose and premise, absolutely loved it.

reasons to microwave an elixir t. 8.2k. university au, modern magic au, roommates to lovers galore. i absolutely loved the prose and how sunaosa developed over the fic. definitely one of my favorites!

you never have to wander, wonder t. 22.6k. suna is the cameraman for the twins' buzzfeed-like worth it youtube series. lovely, lovely pining and prose.

iwaoi

What spring does with the cherry trees e. 7k. pwp with lovely prose and so much love between iwa and oikawa. reading it made me feel soft and fluffy.

galaxies, within you t. 21.1k. makki and mattsun are the absolute best in this. i love the seijoh4's banter and friendship, and how iwa and oikawa eventually confess their feelings for each other. the prose is hilarious and beautiful!

bokuaka

35mm t. 20.9k. 3/3. another fic where akaashi and bokuto slowly fall in love through high school but more movies, akaashi is a movie buff, and lovely prose <3

other

but i am strong (strong enough to carry him) t. 5.3k. atsumu gets a call that osamu has a breakdown and he, aran, and suna comfort him. a beautiful brotherly fic and the helping hands around osamu.

A Full Stomach g. 6.9k. kageyama notices that hinata is eating less and less these days and intervenes. hinata protection squad arise! so much fluff to the hurt, my son deserves everything that karasuno gives him <3

if it's me, it'll be okay t. 9.1k. yachi discovers she's aromantic and goes through it. also, she's best friends with sakusa and it's the best thing ever. a lovely exploration of aromanticism, please give it a shot <3

city's on fire t. 10.5k. cyberpunk au where the twins can hack into memories and rewrite them. the worldbuilding is unique and the twins' relationship is achingly tender but painful with a happy ending.

An Opponent Is Announced g. 13.1k. sakusa has no idea who oikawa is while the rest of the jnt does, hence commencing a (non-serious) investigation into him. love the character dynamics and plot, just a fun, light-hearted read.

a best man's worst problems t. 14.1k. kagehina. tsukishima is asked to be kageyama's best man at his wedding and to give a wedding speech. lovely outsider pov of kagehina's blooming relationship through the years from one very exasperated salty dinosaur.

Safe & Sound t. 17.3k. 5 times kitagawa daiichi ignored kageyama's suffering and 1 time karasuno didn't. oh boy, this hit me in the face with the ANGST and then the comfort. emotionally prepare yourself for this (i wasn't, and my heart shattered in a million pieces).

Common side effects m. 89.9k. 16/16. kuroken. THIS FIC WAS SO GOOD. kuroo is a depressed 30 year old reconnecting with kenma after 3 years of silence. it depicts the monotony and depression of adulthood so well, and the cast is so loving and supportive of kuroo while he was going through it. please give this a shot <3

[honey-flustered]

Kinktober Day 11: On Camera

Kurt Kunkle x Streamer/OF!Fem!Reader

Summary: Kurt wins a contest to meet his new favorite streamer. Little did he know there’s more to this contest than he’d ever anticipated.

Warnings: 18+ smut, loss of virginity (m), overstimulation, unprotected p in v sex, girth god Kurt, multiple orgasms, p*ssyjob, oral sex, sweetthansour!reader, humiliation kink, livestream sex

Kurt reread the congratulatory email with a wide smile on his face. He couldn’t believe he’d won a night of gaming with you! And all he had to do was answer some very personal and invasive questions such as what his kinks were, test results, and whether or not he’s a virgin. Maybe that’s what the new streamers are doing nowadays. Whatever it takes to draw in the viewers, he guesses.

Nonetheless, this is going to be a great opportunity for him. Not only does he get to play alongside one of his favorite female streamers but he gets to advertise his own channel. Even better…if he were to beat you in any game, your fans would surely flock to him.

Kurt could hardly sleep last night a wink last night, thoughts consumed with what he’ll do with his newfound fame. When he received the text message for your location, he practically catapulted into bed, rushing over to his closet for the best swag to wear.

“Dude, you are not fucking wearing any of that lame shit in your closet to see LatteBunny,” Bobby scoffs, dumping a backpack of clothes from his personal closet onto Kurt’s bed. “You’re so lucky I won’t let you go looking like an idiot because if I were a dickhead, I’d have ruined your chances with her. It should’ve been me winning the night with her.”

“I’m not even sure how I won.” Kurt says, rummaging through his options

“I know why. It’s because I wasn’t allowed to enter so they had no choice but to pick the lesser of the losers,” Bobby says with a scowl. “Soon as I turn 21 in like 4 years and she hosts another one of these contests, I’ll be in there like swimwear.”

“What do you think of this?” Kurt asks with a spin reveal. He sports a black graphic T-Shirt with white sweatpants. “It’s like chill enough to where it doesn’t look like I’m trying too hard but also it’s swaggy.”

“Of all the things here…” Bobby trails off with a frustrated sigh. “If you like it, I love it, dude. Whatever.”

“Will you and your followers be watching the livestream together?” Kurt asks with hopefulness. The more viewers, the better.

“Hell no, I’m not trying to get demonetized or traumatized.” He shudders.

————

Kurt gives an anxious knock on the door to your airbnb, shifting back and forth on either foot. Once the door swings open, Kurt’s jaw nearly falls to the ground when he sees you. God, you’re even prettier in person and it’s enough to make his knees buckle. He swallows hard, holding out a bouquet of flowers as his eyes drink in your form. You’re wearing a seamless black lace bodysuit that accentuates your curves; revealing but not enough to where he can see you fully nude.

“Are those for me?” You ask, clearly smitten.

He nods, absentmindedly.

“You’re so sweet…and so hot,” You reach a hand towards him as you step closer. He flinches a little, your succubus aura making him feel weak. You notice this and gently take his hand to soothe him. “Sorry, I hope I’m not making you nervous. I’m really nice once you get to know me personally.”

“A-are we on camera?” Kurt asks.

“Not yet,” You reply before biting your lip, looking him up and down. “I wanted some alone time with you first…if that’s okay with you.”

Kurt was a little disappointed but also really glad. He’d hate to have looked like a beta male in front of the viewers, especially so early in the visit.

“It’s cool.” He says.

“Great! Come in,” You grab his arm, dragging him inside. “I’m really excited to get to know you, Kent.”

“It’s Kurt,” He corrects, trying to keep up with you. You’re so fast despite being in heels. “Like my socials @/kurtsworld96.”

“Oops, I’m so sorry. My manager must’ve read it wrong on your questionnaire,” You seat him at a mini bar before locating a vase for your flowers. You head behind the counter of the bar and begin to mix a drink. “Hope you like sex on the beach.”

His eyes widened. “Oh, yeah. T-totally. I’ve had sex in all kinds of places. Especially on the beach. It’s one of my top favorite spots actually.”

You giggle. “You’re so funny, Kurt.”

He wasn’t sure what was so funny but as long as he got to make you laugh, he must’ve been doing something right. Usually girls found him to be quite bizarre but you’re just as nice as you are pretty. Not to mention how intoxicating you smell.

Kurt leans in as you busy yourself with the drinks, he takes a sniff of your blueberry scent and lets out a shaky sigh. You turn to look at him and he expects you to curse him out for it but instead you lean closer over the counter, allowing him access to your scent and your tantalizing cleavage.

“It’s a new scent I’m trying, ya like?” You ask.

“Yeah, it’s really good. If you were a vape flavor, I’d definitely hit.” He says.

“That’s comforting to know,” You say, finishing up the drinks and putting them on a small tray. “Could you take these over to the conversation pit over there? I’ll be right behind you.”

“I’m on it,” Kurt obliges, taking the tray to its destination. The pit is reminiscent of the 70s; a large colorful area with geometric shapes surrounded all around by one large sofa. He notices the camera set up and the game console and he gets excited. It’s indeed a stylish place to play.

He removes his shoes before going down the small steps and setting the tray on the coffee table. “This place is badass. Very artsy.”

“I know right,” You reply, sounding far away. “It’s got some Norman Rockwell and Andy Warhol influences in there. It’s exactly why I chose this place so I can just admire the aesthetics while we enjoy ourselves.”

“Sick,” Kurt agrees, admiring the place. He registers your presence when he feels the seat beside him sink a little. You already have your drink in hand, his drink in the other outstretched towards him. “Thanks.”

You clink your drinks together and while you take your sip, he takes a big gulp before immediately coughing.

“Too strong?” You ask.

“Nah, it’s perfect,” He refutes. “In fact, I wish it were stronger.”

You scoot closer to him, thigh in contact with his and it takes everything in him not to hyperventilate.

“You look so tense. You really don’t have to be so shy. I’m just a normal girl.” You say softly, running your acrylic nails up and down his thick thigh like a cat. “How about we play some music—That should help, yeah? What do you like to hear?”

“I-I actually dj a little. Make my own songs.”

“Ooo, do you?”

“Mhm. I can do house music, electronic and dance, remixes…ya know the whole nine.”

“Don’t keep me waiting. I’d like to hear,” You hand him your phone and he fidgets with the device in search of Soundcloud, typing his profile and clicking his latest work.

The song blasts from the speakers, pumping it with the vibrations running through the both of you.

“What do you think?” He calls out over the song.

“It’s music alright.”

“It slaps.” He says with a smile, dancing a little. Next thing he knew, your lips were on his. He could only stay frozen as you move your mouth against his before parting.

“You’re a virgin, aren’t you?” You ask with a teasing smile.

“How’d you know?”

“It’s written all over you, hon,” You laugh. “My question is…why me?”

“I don’t…understand.” He whispers, voice suddenly unable to project. You’re taking his breath away!

“Why’d you sign up for the contest?”

“B-because you’re my favorite streamer and I want to play with you.”

“Aww, am I really?” You cup his cheek. “Most guys are afraid to admit they like watching girl streamers.”

“Women, men…we’re all the same.”

“You do know that this was a contest for LatteBunnyAfterDark—my onlyfans page not the gaming channel, right? You won the night to fuck me on cam.”

He chokes on his drink. “Oh…I’m so sorry.”

“What for? You’re cute as fuck,” You brush his hair from his eyes. “I’m not sure I feel comfortable taking your virginity. That should be reserved for someone you truly care about. And a moment that intimate shouldn’t be broadcasted to thousands of people.”

“I-I’m okay with that. I want to lose it. Take it. You can have it. You’re already so special to me, remember? You’re my favorite streamer.”

“Hmm,” You fake ponder, acrylic-donned pointer finger against your chin. “I don’t know. Maybe we should ask my followers what they think.”

You saunter over to your tripod and hit record on your filming device. “Evening, my horny little jackrabbits, as you can very well see I am here with the winner of my contest, Kent from Kentsworld.”

“It’s Kurt from Kurtsworld…96.” He corrects once again, confused how you’ve already forgotten.

“Right! Well it turns out, Kurtie here is a small dick little virgin boy. Aren’t you, Kurt?”

“W-well, I…I’m a virgin but my cock is like super-huge. Like I’ve had girls turn me down because I’m so big. That’s why I’m a virgin.” He explains.

“What the fuck is that god awful sound?”

A viewer message chimes on screen read by a chat-to-speech bot.

“I know right. Ouch,” You laugh, sticking your fingers in your ears. “Kurt says he’s a DJ. Totally not lying; wink, wink.”

Kurt feels his cheeks flushing. He’s angry and humiliated and yet he still wants to fuck you.

“He wants me to pop his little cherry, jackrabbits,” You pout in feigned sadness. “But I don’t take virginities from followers because I want you all to lose yours to someone you all care for.”

Kurt looks over your shoulder, reading some of the passing messages. Most of them envy him and that gives him some pride.

“I’d want to lose it to you, my goddess.”

“It should’ve been me not him.”

“He is not HIM.”

“But I don’t know…I’d hate to leave someone when they’re in need. And he did win my contest. So…should I do it? Do I fuck him?”

The chat is going crazy with donations and followers sending in their suggestions that range from ungodly to practically demonic.

“Let him play a game against you. He loses, he goes home a virgin. He wins, he fucks.”

“That’s a splendid idea,” You praise, clapping your hands together. “My followers are actually so smart when the blood in their bodies decide to redirect its attention from their tiny cocks to their even tinier brains. Just for that, me and Kurt are going to make this a really good show.”

And then the two of you were gaming on camera and things did not go as Kurt planned. All night he couldn’t sleep thinking of the way he’d show himself superior to her in gaming. All night he thought of the many fun ideas he had planned for his new followers but now here he was being humiliated by you over and over again. He’d lost 6 games by now and that should have been the end. But when Kurt offered an all or nothing game you couldn’t resist.

Every now and then you’d seduce him enough to where he could barely keep his eyes on the game, wanting to watch the way you jumped up and down during every little victory; the way your full breasts would bounce or your ass would jingle in that damned bodysuit.

He should’ve lost the last game for sure. You were clearly upping your distractions except when he saw the winning words displayed on his screen, he couldn’t believe his eyes. In fact, he was so shocked he rubbed his eyes repetitively to make sure.

“Looks like you won,” You immediately fall to your knees in front of him. “Guess you can finally collect your prize.

Kurt is stiff in position, controller still in hand. The sound of his music still blasting as he tries to focus on that to keep from fainting.

You stroke him over his boxers a little but he continues to hold back his sounds. You remove the last barrier and his girthy cock springs out of its confines, bobbing side to side.

“Oh my god, look guys…he’s actually a cervix punisher. I’m going to be ruined,” You laugh and he groans at your nickname for his dick.

“T-told you. You probably want to run away, too.” Kurt rasps.

“Uh-uh, baby, I never back out of a challenge.” You lick the base of him and he whines, jumping high enough to make his heavy dick plop down against your face for a moment. You laugh some more, stroking him until his sticky pre-cum seeps from the tip. He really is so funny.

You lick the mushroom head, closing your lips around it to suckle before pulling off. He trembles beneath you and you snake a hand underneath his shirt, stroking his hairy tummy and chest for comfort. “Relax, Kurt, lemme make you feel so good. You deserve it for being my biggest fan.”

“It’s…a lot.” He says, out of breath.

“I know, baby,” You coo. “Let’s play another fun game? Each time you cum before we actually fuck, you’ll cum double that inside of me.”

Before Kurt could speak, your mouth was fully around him again. You’re professional; bobbing, twisting, slurping and gagging—he’s a complete mess. He’s sobbing out loud, large hands in your hair and tear-filled eyes are rolling into the back of his head.

Messages go off as they both curse and encourage Kurt for his time with you. But for the first time Kurt couldn’t care less about the followers or going viral, he’s getting the best head and soon he’s going to be inside of his favorite streamer.

He shocks himself when he cums down your throat, gasping for air and wriggling under you. You don’t pull off until he’s begging and pushing you away from him.

“Mmm, who knew virgins tasted this sweet.” You moan, licking your lips. “That’s twice you’ll be finishing inside me by the way.”

“I don’t think I can.” He whines.

You pull off your bodysuit, slowly letting him watch your every move. His hard member stirs up again, standing proud. “Sure, you can. Look how much he wants to please me.”

You crawl over him pulling off his shirt, hands on his hairy chest that’s matted down by sweat. You’re both in a position where the cameras have a good closeup of the action. They’ll get to see the moment Kurt enters you and officially become a man. “I want you to put it in, Kurt.”

With shaky hands, Kurt reaches between your bodies and grabs his painfully throbbing cock. He searches for your hole, dripping wet with your essence. He’ll need to have a taste of that before the end of the night. Gliding his cock up and down the length of you, he unintentionally teases your little nub.

You mewl, grinding your pussy back and forth on his length. He’s taking too long and you really needed to get off. His mouth drops watching you, move against him and, before he knew it, he was coming again. His cock twitches, making a sloppy mess against your puffy lips.

“Oh fuck, that’s good. Shit, shit.” He groans, gripping your waist to rock you against him. You feel your heartbeat in your core, on the brink of coming but you instead focus on nursing him through his own orgasm; playing in his hair as you do.

After some time he comes down, he shoots you a goofy smile. “Did I lose my virginity?”

“No, you fucking moron. You weren’t even inside her.”

Kurt looks up at you with fearful yet puppy dog hazel eyes, swallowing hard enough for his Adam’s Apple to bob in his throat. You wrap a hand around his neck, sinking onto his thick cock. The stretch is intoxicating.

You throw your head back and he lets out a strained cry in unison with your guttural moan. You look back down at him again with a wicked smile as you bounce in time to the beat of his music, the vibrations adding to the pleasure.

“That’ll be 4, by the way.”

[spiderm444rk]

LOST IN TRANSLATION - mark lee smau

20. can you two stop flirting ?? (written)

not proofread

You glance at Mark, who keeps absentmindedly picking at the strings of his guitar with one hand. He’s nervous, you can tell, and honestly you get it. This is a big day for everyone after all - all students want to know who will become the newest member of the band.

“You got this man, okay ?” Donghyuck dramatically places his hand on Mark’s shoulder, patting it repeatedly. “You’ll do good. You’ll do the best, actually. If someone’s capable, it’s you.”

“Yeah, fuck those losers who think they’re better just because they major in music.” Jisung scoffs. “We’ll see if they’re really as talented as they claim to be. Or if they’re just too dense to study a real major.”

“You say that like you aren’t failing two subjects already.” Mark mumbles, but doesn’t look up from his guitar.

Jisung’s eyes widen when Donghyuck giggles at him and puts a hand on his chest. “M- me ? Failing ? I’m doing perfectly fine.”

Donghyuck snorts at him. “We all know that’s a lie. You got like 6 points from the last physics exam.”

“But I can retake it ! It doesn’t mean anything !”

You look over at Jeno, who’s mostly been quiet ever since he joined you and Mark here, scrolling through his phone. It seems like he’s used to the two boys always bickering. He’s munching on some chips that Donghyuck and Jisung brought, and as soon as he notices your gaze, he smiles, still with his mouth full, and offers you the pack.

You smile back gratefully and grab a handful of chips from the pack. “Thanks.”

Jeno is definitely the most peaceful one in the friend group. You didn’t even have to spend that much time with him and you could already tell he’s kind and respectful, and also always willing to be there for the people he cares about. You’re starting to understand why Jaemin likes him. And honestly ? Good for him. He definitely needs someone stable in his life.

But since you’re usually the one doing most of the talking, it feels odd, sitting in silence with Mark who barely said anything in the last two hours and his three friends who you saw like twice in your life. But you understand that Mark needs you right now and you’re willing to sit this one through if it makes him feel better. The boy almost had a meltdown when you tried to stand up and go get some coffee, thinking you’re leaving him there by himself. You can’t do that to his pour soul.

Mark suddenly groans again, stretching a little in his seat and resting his head against the wall behind his head. “Y/n.”

You pause in surprise and turn to him. “Yeah ?”

“Will you be mad if I don’t make it ?“

You blink and have to chuckle a little, leaning closer to him. “Mark… this is your chance. You aren’t doing it for me, or the boys, or anyone else. You’re doing it for yourself. Why would I be mad at you ?”

He takes a deep breath to calm himself down, but it turns out to be a little too deep, resulting in a cough. “I don’t know. What if you trusted me a little too much and I’m just not good enough ? You spent so much time with me while I practiced, had to listen to me rant and stress over everything-“

“And I did it willingly, didn’t I ?” You tilt your head, your eyes full of affection. “Have I ever complained about it ? I liked spending that time with you. I’m glad I got to share your experience and learn something about you. And even if you don’t get in, it’s alright. Stuff like that happens. There’ll be other opportunities. It’s not the end of the world.” You smile reassuringly, nodding at him a little. “But I know how you play and I genuinely believe in you. Stay calm and show them what you got, guitarist boy, hm ?”

Mark raises his head, finally meeting your gaze. His lips are parted in surprise and he stays silent for a few seconds, just taking your words in. But before he can even get the chance to respond, Donghyuck scoffs, crossing his arms. “Can you two stop flirting for one day, at least ? Ugh.”

Mark’s cheeks immediately heat up. “We weren’t flirting-“

“You’re just mad that there’s a hot redhead present and she’s not giving her attention to you, but someone else.” Jeno chuckles and throws the now empty pack of chips away from across the room, surprisingly getting it into the dustbin. Jisung nods appreciatively at the shot and Jeno shakes his head again.“You don’t have to pretend that you don’t, Hyuck.”

You look between the boys, suddenly feeling a bit out of place. “Uh…”

Mark chuckles and rubs the back of his neck shyly, not enjoying the heavy atmosphere right now. “Don’t mind them. They’re being stupid.”

Donghyuck opens his mouth to defend himself but is interrupted by the sound of the speakers turning on:

“Hey everyone ! This is Taeyong speaking. All students who are going to audition for the position of our new guitarist, please gather in the auditorium hall and pick up your number. We’ll call out your number when it’s your turn to perform ! Good luck, everyone !”

The speakers turn off again and all five of you just kind of sit there in silence, stunned. Then you notice the slight pressure on your thigh and look down, only to see Mark’s hand gripping your leg, hard. Mark follows your gaze and curses, retracting his hand immediately. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m just so nervous-“

“It’s fine.” You stand up, turning around to face the boys. “So this is it, then. Are you ready ?”

Donghyuck and Jisung exchange glances while Jeno just looks between Mark and you suspiciously, but you don’t pay any attention to that. Mark groans and grips his guitar a bit tighter. “I hope I am…”

“You can do it, Mark.” Jisung speaks up. “You’re talented. Embrace it.”

“Exactly. Just stay confident and don’t fuck it up, hm ?” Donghyuck ruffles his hair, to which Mark scoffs and pulls away.

“Plus, we’ll be in the audience.” Jeno stretches a bit and also stands up. “You aren’t alone.”

Mark takes a deep breath and nods. “I know. It’s not the end of the world either. I just need to stay calm…”

You grab his free hand and pull him to his feet. “Yeah, but if we don’t hurry up, you’ll be the last one to perform and I don’t think you want that, Mark.”

His eyes widen and he looks at you in horror. “God, no I don’t wanna go last…”

“Yep. So let’s go.” You wave at the boys quickly, already dragging Mark away. “We’ll see you guys later.”

Mark also waves at them, walking away like he’s dreading every step, basically hugging his guitar tight to his body for comfort. You snort but don’t comment on it until you both reach the auditorium hall. When you look at him, Mark is already staring at your face, looking like a deer caught in headlights. You coo at him, carefully fixing his clothes as you both wait in the queue for his number. “You’ll do well, Mark. There’s nothing you should be worried about.”

“I know, I can’t help it. Sorry.” He watches your fingers play with the button of his shirt.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” You shake your head. “I’m just saying, I believe in you. And I’m already proud of you, no matter what the results will be. You proved yourself to me already, you know ?” You smile and look up to meet his eyes, a little taken aback by the intensity of his gaze on you.

He reaches out, gently pushing a few strands of hair away from your face. You gasp quietly in surprise, your breath catching in your throat at the unexpected action but you let him, not pulling back. He doesn’t look away from your face either, appreciating your closeness silently.

“I really can’t ever thank you enough, Y/n.”

“You thanked me plenty of times already. It’s getting pretty annoying, honestly.” You grin, crossing your arms.

“Yeah, but I mean it. I’d probably chicken out and not audition at all if it wasn’t for you. You push me to be good. I didn’t- I didn’t know how to do that before.”

You stare at him, not knowing what to say. Yeah, Mark was always a bit shy, and also quiet as hell before you practically forced him to be friends with you, but you wouldn’t say you’re the reason why he’s doing so good right now, after all he’s the talented one-

“Next !”

Mark breaks the eye contact to go pick out his number and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. You watch him check the small paper, turning it around in his hands. “I got 38.”

You also glance at the paper. “Well, that isn’t so bad, is it?”

Mark shakes his head, putting it in his pocket. “Nah, it’s fine.” He takes a deep breath again, rubbing his arm, visibly stressed as hell, even though told him not to be. “I’ll try to find you in the audience, yeah ?”

“Mark-“ you groan and wrap your arms around his shoulders firmly, not giving him any room to protest. But based on how his hands practically fly up to your waist to hug you back, he wasn’t going to. “I told you you’ll do great. I love the way you play. And I’ll love seeing you on that stage. Take deep breaths, okay ?”

Mark nods against your neck, ignoring how the guitar is poking both of you right now since he’s still refusing to put it down entirely. “I know. I know…”

You pat his head affectionately, a smile starting to spread on your face. “Do you want me to record you ? So you can watch it when you’re done ?”

He freezes. “You’d do that ?”

“Of course I would. What do you have me for ?”

He nods against your neck again, still not letting you go, but then he sighs and takes a step back. “I should go in… I’ll find you later, yeah ?”

You chuckle and nod reassuringly. “Mhm. I’m not going anywhere.”

He starts walking backwards slowly, not wanting to look away from you yet. “Yeah. So see you later.”

“Later.” You smile to yourself as you watch him leave, and you have to turn around and hide your face so you dont start giggling out loud at the way he almost knocks down an entire shelf with his guitar. This is going to be a long day.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─

A/N: i wrote this last night while drinking champagne i hope it still makes sense somehow🤗🤗

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[pascalispretty]

arrangement

Javi Gutierrez x F!Reader

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings/Tags: 1950s AU/Golden Age of Hollywood AU, arranged marriage, implied bisexuality, brief references to period typical homophobia

Summary: Tabloid gossip threatens to derail your promising film career. Luckily the studio has a solution; they've arranged for you to marry their Academy Award-winning screenwriter, Javi.

A/N: written for the @pedrostories Secret Santa event for @wardenparker! Arranged marriage and period drama from your prompt list really inspired me, as did rereading the Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo. Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year! (ao3)

“You’re not serious.” Your glass is raised halfway to your mouth; it’s only when the beads of condensation start to soak through your gloves that you remember it at all. You set it down on the desk and concentrate on peeling the soaked silk off your hands. It’s late and it’s New Year’s Eve – nobody is going to be looking at your hands anyway.

“I know it’s not ideal, kiddo-” Jack starts. As producers go, he’s pretty good. Or rather, he knows how to make a picture and he’s never bargained blowjobs for better parts, which makes him a damned saint by Hollywood standards.

“Not ideal?” You snap, abruptly cutting him off. “You know the rumours are horseshit. As soon as they see me as Cathy-”

“You’ll never play Cathy if you don’t wise up and listen to what I’m telling you. The studio isn’t pleased, kiddo.” Jack stubs the end of his cigarette out aggressively in the ashtray, grinding it against the glass with rather more force than is necessary.

You wait as he flicks his cigarette case open and lights another. The tension in the room is almost as thick as the smoke hanging hazy in the air. Jack sighs deeply, and pushes his hair back from his forehead.

“Look. I love you. The studio loves you. The studio spent a lot of money turning you into a bona fide movie star. And you playing Cathy, well. That’s Oscar potential right there, baby. But-”

You open your mouth to argue, and he cuts you off with a wave of his hand.

“But the studio will drop you faster than you can blink if people think you’re a lesbian.”

You’re glad you put the champagne down; you might have dropped it otherwise to hear that word fall from his mouth. The knot of anxiety in your stomach that’s been there since the photos were splashed on the cover of Hush Hush feels like it grows three sizes.

It had been innocent enough. Her hand on your back, where your dress dipped low and left your shoulderblades exposed. It’d hadn’t stopped the tabloids from running with it, running any photo of the two of you they could find and writing articles full of thinly-veiled innuendo.

“I’m not. The rumours are-”

“Not going away. I’m sorry, kiddo, really. I know you’re not so hot on getting married again after Marcus died.” It’s an understatement. You never used your married name at work, but you found yourself signing a cheque only yesterday with ‘Mrs M. Pike’. You force yourself to smile.

“So does the studio have a candidate in mind? Some prized stud?”

“Yes, actually. You know Javi? He adapted the script for Agamemnon, and he won the Oscar last year for that comedy with the Coppola kid?” You do know Javi. You’d met him when Agamemnon was in production, your first serious role. He’s handsome, you can’t deny that. You’d seen his soft brown curls and big dark eyes at the table read and wondered which part he was playing, before he’d been introduced as the writer.

And kind, too. When Marcus had died ten days into filming for Agamemnon, he’d sent flowers with everyone else. He’d also written you a letter, short but kind, offering to bog the director down with rewrites if you wanted more than a weekend off to grieve. You hadn’t taken him up on it, but the gesture had stayed with you.

“And he agreed to this? Or are you springing an arranged marriage on him tonight too?”

“He agreed. He’s ah- he’s in a similar predicament to you, kiddo. Tabloid trouble, rumour mill keeps on churning. It’s not the worst thing in the world, is it? This way, you can help each other out for a year or so, stop the rumours, and quietly split once they’ve moved onto their next target.”

You hate that Jack sounds pretty convincing right now. When he’d sat you down and told you the studio wanted you to get married again, you’d imagined some portly producer older than your father, or another actor who was only interested in women because he hadn’t figured out how to fuck his own reflection.

“I wanna talk to him about all of this. And if we’re on the same page…” you let yourself trail off as Jack’s grin gets wider.

“You’re a star, baby. A bona fide star. Just you wait, you’re gonna have your pick of projects.” He picks up the phone on the desk and waves you away. “Go, go have fun at the party. Javi’s down there somewhere if you wanna talk to him.”

You give him a wave back, and let yourself out of the office before you can change your mind. Half of Hollywood seems to be ringing in the new year at Jack’s sprawling house in the hills. You descend the stairs into the press of bodies, a fresh glass of champagne appearing in your hand as if by magic.

The party has spilled out onto the deck, guests hanging in clusters around the pool. A few brave souls have even shed their party clothes and dived in, splashing about in their underwear. You ignore their urging for more people to join them, focusing on picking Javi out of the crowd.

It takes you two laps of the party before you find him.

He’s standing over by the bar, deep in conversation with a man you recognise as one of the composers at the studio. You take a long moment just to observe him. Your future husband.

There could be worse husbands, you suppose.

He really is quite handsome. He’s wearing a dark green suit tonight that screams understated wealth, and his curls have been tamed and combed back for the night. Whatever he’s talking about, he’s passionate about it, gesturing with his hands and smiling broadly whenever he isn’t speaking.

You wish you’d thought to glance in a mirror before coming to find him. You’re wearing Dior, a dress that had made you feel like a goddess when you’d put it on earlier. Now, after hours of drinking, and your time spent fretting in Jack’s office, you’re no longer certain you look quite so regal.

Before you can dash off to find a mirror somewhere, Javi spots you.

He flashes you one of those lovely smiles, seeming entirely genuinely pleased to see you. When he waves you over, you go. The composer rolls his eyes fondly and melts back into the crowd, leaving the two of you alone.

“Hello.” It feels like an inadequate way to greet your future husband, but you can’t think of anything else. Javi’s the one who’s good with words; you’re just good at repeating them.

He beams at you, completely unbothered by your unoriginal introduction.

“Hello yourself! It’s been a hot minute.” He leans in to kiss your cheeks in greeting. Even though his skin barely brushes yours, it still makes your face feel warm as you imagine other kinds of kisses from him. He smells wonderful too, an expensive cologne that’s present without being overwhelming.

“I hear you’re up for Wuthering Heights. It’s a great part,” Javi says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “The way Jack tells it, you’ll be a shoo-in for the Oscar again.”

“Ah, well, I think you’re the expert on those now. You’re the one who actually won the damned thing.” Most men in Hollywood would take the opportunity to springboard into a monologue about their work; Javi waves you off bashfully.

“I got lucky. Nicky was a great guy to build the story around.” It seems to come from a place of real humility. You’ve seen him at table reads, filling in for uncast parts; you don’t think much of his acting ability. He might just be the genuine article. It’s impossible enough to find in this business, but you find that you want badly to believe it’s true; that he really is as humble and genuine as he seems.

“I’m glad I found you. I was looking for you,” you tell him, stepping in closer. Your heads are bowed conspiratorially together; if nothing else, it’ll give the other partygoers something to talk about, you suppose.

“Oh,” he says, his eyes softening. “Jack spoke to you?”

You dive in headfirst, not knowing how else to proceed.

“He did. I said- I told him I wanted to talk to you first.”

“Well I’d hope that the fact you haven’t thrown your drink in my face means you don’t hate the idea entirely.” There’s that smile again. It really is a shame he’s more comfortable behind the camera.

“I don’t. Jack mentioned you were in a similar…situation. And that we might come to an arrangement.” With no specifics from Jack, you don’t want to push. He could be in the closet; he could also have just been caught with a joint at the exact wrong moment by the exact wrong person.

“I’m not as flawless as the studio would like me to be, no. But it doesn’t- we don’t have to go so far as marriage, if you don’t want to. It was just an idea.”

“Come and dance with me.” When he looks at you blankly, you laugh. “Come dance. Unless you can’t. I’m not sure I wanna be talking marriage with a man who can’t dance.” You keep your tone light, teasing. With an affectionate roll of his eyes, he sets your drinks down on the side before taking your hand, guiding you towards the dancing couples.

It’s the first time you’ve held his hand, and you’re struck by just how large it is compared to your own. He’s soft and warm here too, though you can’t help but notice a nick on one of his fingers.

“That’s pretty nasty for a papercut,” you say, tapping the skin just below the cut.

“Ah, I was wrestling with my typewriter earlier. One of the keys jammed.” The two of you find yourselves on the outskirts of the dancefloor, far enough away from the press of other couples to carry on speaking. Javi brings his free hand to rest on your waist, and yours finds his shoulder as you begin to sway in time to the beat.

“I know you might not be so wild about marriage after Marcus,” he says softly. The tender look he’s giving you makes you want to weep; in a strange way, it reminds you of Marcus.

“It’s been nearly two years. I’m not…completely opposed.” After all, it’s not like Marcus would want you miserable and moping for the rest of your life, you are certain about that. And you like Javi, in spite of yourself. He’s handsome and kind and warm. Any girl would be lucky to marry him.  

“We wouldn’t be the first couple in this business to get married because the studio said so.” Javi looks around the room, glancing at the other couples moving around the dancefloor. “There’s probably more than one…arrangement just in this room.”

“It’d help to really sell it, if we got married. You can move in with me, if you like,” you say impulsively. “But I’d prefer if you were in the guest bedroom at first.”

“That’s absolutely fine.” The song changes, but the two of you keep swaying aimlessly. There’s a long pause as Javi looks searchingly at you.

“Can I be honest?” Javi says, adjusting his grip on your hand. “I was – I’m glad it was you, that Jack suggested.”

“Oh?” You can’t help leaning in. His other hand slides a little higher up your back, between your shoulder blades.

“I think you’re the cat’s pyjamas,” he says, smiling softly. “You always noticed me, on set. Asked me questions. The lead of the whole damned picture, just lost your husband, and you think to ask me how my day is going. And that’s not even getting into how talented you are, how beautiful-”

You feel lightheaded, like you’ve drunk a bottle of champagne all in one go again.

“Oh Javi, baby. Do you like me?” You tease, a smile spreading across your face. He seems flustered again, and you take your hand off his shoulder to cup his face.

“I quite like you too. You’re handsome and kind and you know how to put a sentence together. Women have married men for a lot less.”

Before you can overthink it, you kiss him.

A lot has been written about your kisses. The kiss you shared with Don Adler in Agamemnon won some sort of award, and you have an article framed on your vanity about your lipstick choice at the Oscars.

This is different though.

After the smallest moment of uncertainty, Javi kisses you back. Any hesitance you might have melts away as you lean into the embrace. You kiss him more firmly, more boldly. His hand on your back presses harder, holding you closer against his body. A feeling of warmth blooms through you, like settling into a perfectly warm bath after a long day.

More than anything, it just feels right.

You’re not sure how long you kiss before you break away. Javi cradles your jaw in his hands, the pad of his thumb resting lightly against your lower lip.

“You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how.”

“You didn’t write that one,” you say with a smile. He laughs, a sound so lovely and warm that you immediately want to make him laugh again.

“Give me time. I’ll write your next leading man a hell of a monologue about the shape of your lips alone.”

“You promise?” You catch at the lapel of his blazer, running your fingertips against the fine fabric. Based on everything you know about him, Javi seems like a man who keeps his word.

“I do.”  

Taglist:

@avengersfan25 @misscharlielulu @apenny4thots

@its-nebuleuse @totallynotastanacc

[strgrlxox]

✧.➷ & burn.

☆ || SUMMARY :: ellie taking her frustration out on u

☆ || CONTAINS :: mean dom!ellie. reader gets called a slut like once. oral (r!reciving). fingering (r!reciving). edging.

☆ || WORD COUNT :: 783 !

there was a certain point within your girl's anger where all she wanted was a source of distraction, something new to focus on. you, always her angel, were there to greedily gladly provide aid.

“stop fucking squirming.” her teeth were skating across your clit, hands gripping so tightly on your waist there was no way it wouldn’t leave a mark. 

you fucking loved it when she got like this. 

she knew your body so well, always able to put you at her mercy with a few words or light touches. she was always so good to you when you needed her…you were glad to do the same for her.

ellie laid you done as soon as she got home, telling you something along the lines of  “stop fucking talking.” before she kissed you like she wanted to take all the air that was in your lungs.

she’d make it up to you later. probably put herself on her knees to worship you like you deserved.

but for now, she needed this to be the opposite of that. ellie wasn’t focused on making you feel good like she normally did, she was trying to relieve herself from the pressure of the intense day she had.

you can’t help but thrash in her hold, your body unable to relax when she begins to gently bite down. “what the fuck did i just tell you?” she growled, her eyes meeting yours. you couldn’t stop the sewage of apologies that left your mouth.

she smirked into your skin, detaching her mouth from your core for the third time. the distressed cry you let out was so pretty it almost made her feel bad. almost.

 ellie smirked as she let her eyes trail across your body that was coated in dark purple marks that she’d kiss later when she apologized for being so rough with you. you’d dismiss her, how you loved being her little work of art. 

“please, just wanna come.” your words are barely tangible.

she gripped your jaw and you mewl, not from pain but more so from shock. even when she’s fucking pissed and can only think about how small she wants to make you feel, she’d never actually hurt you. ellie could never even dream of it. “you’ll come if and only if i decide you will. you take what i give you.”

your back arches when she lets two fingers slip past your entrance. 

“what am i gonna do with you?” her voice was so lustful it almost made your mouth water. “you like it when i treat you like a little slut, don’t you?”

you do, you really fucking do. you nod, biting your lip as you fight the urge to buck your hips into her fingers, desperate to feel her deeper. fuck her and her perfect fucking fingers.

“say it.”

“yeah, i like it.” your eyes bubble with tears cause she’s been edging you for an hour…bringing you to the edge only to pull away before you coming.

“hmm.” she kisses your cheek, the sweet gesture making your head spin in contrast to how mean she was being seconds ago. “so pretty when you cry.”

it was embarrassing how much her humiliation turns you on. her words, her mocking tone, the fact that you were naked while she was completely clothed. she looked up at you so casually, like what she was doing wasn’t so goddamn filthy.

you clench when her fingers curl, you’re so fucking close. you’d probably be embarrassed if you weren’t so fucking pent up. 

then she pulls her fingers out of you. you keep your legs closed.

“open your legs.” it’s gruff and demanding, you know better than to tease her but knowing why she’s doing this makes it impossible not too.

“ask me nicely.” you keep your knees buckled together, smiling up at her like you knew all her secrets or something.

“open your fucking legs.” her hands reach up to your knees and yank them apart. you gasp when the cold air hits your pussy, wondering why you flirt with dominance when you know you’ll give into submission everytime.

“‘m sorry, just can’t take anymore.” you pout up at her.

“who the fuck do think you are?” she scoffs and you almost flinch at how harsh her tone is. “you don’t like what i give you?”

“no, no, ‘m sorry. i love it, ‘m sorry.” you rush, apologies flowing from your lips like it was the only language you could speak. she hums like she’s in thought but you can look in her eyes and tell her mind is made up.

her mouth levels with your core again, “so lie there and take it.”

[libraryofgage]

The Wish Job (One)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually

Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three | Four | Five Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two | Three Harley Quinn One | Two1 0th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedidiah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) One | Two Queen Clarisse Renaldi One | Two | Three Leverage Crew One (you're here!)

This fic was line jumped! If you'd like to learn more about line jumping (getting to see your favorite fics updated sooner) you can read this post

I had a lot of thoughts for this AU, actually, so I'm really glad it got line jumped so I was forced to put them down into words lol

Steve becomes one of Nana's foster kids, but he spends a majority of this series with the Leverage crew working a job (as the name of this series suggests), and they fill similarly parental role.

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;P

----

After his father's arrest, everything is a blur. Steve can remember flashes, sure, but nothing concrete. Nothing more than two FBI agents in the door of his classroom, the cold steel of interrogation room chairs, an agent's ponytail with split ends, a kind smile but clammy hand on his elbow, the broken A/C of the car when he finally left the FBI office, and the slippery feel of the garbage bag he's given to pack 14 years of a life he'll never see again.

Nothing comes back into focus until he's faced with an older black woman, standing outside a two-story house. The man with a kind smile but clammy hands introduces her, but Steve doesn't actually hear the name.

"You can call me Nana," the woman says, looking at the man like she doesn't know why he's still there when his work is obviously done.

"Well, uh, Steve, feel free to call if you need anything. We'll keep in touch," the man says, nodding before half-running down the walk way.

"Never liked him," Nana says, clicking her tongue. "Too damn squirrely for my tastes. Now, Steve, come inside and we'll go over some ground rules."

Steve follows her mechanically, gripping his trash bag tightly and wondering far too late why he wasn't allowed to pack his own suitcases. The house is a cacophony of noises: feet running across wood floors, a TV blaring from the living room, shouts coming from every direction, a microwave beeping while the oven timer rings, a crash from the next room over that makes Steve wince.

Nana stands in the doorway, takes a deep breath, and then shouts at the top of her lungs, "Y'all had better stop all this racket right the fuck now before I cancel pizza night!"

The house goes silent, and Steve feels his shoulders tense even more. He hates the silence. Silence means anger, and anger means punishment. He clenches his jaw, trying to keep himself small as Nana nods and leads the way into a dining room.

A girl appears in the room shortly after, carrying a mug and a soda. She places the mug in front of Nana and the soda in front of an empty seat, gesturing for Steve to sit. "Welcome. I can take your bag, if you want," she offers, looking at the trash bag with bright eyes.

"Don't make trouble, Breanna," Nana says, dismissing her easily.

Steve watches her leave before sitting. He licks his lips, opens the soda as quietly as he can manage, and waits for Nana to take a sip from her mug before saying, "Thank you for taking me in, ma'am."

"I said to call me Nana, none of that ma'am business unless you're in trouble, and you're not in trouble," she says, waving her hand dismissively. "Now, the rules. No complaining about sharing a room. No TV remote access after seven because that's when my shows start. We all eat dinner together on Wednesday night. You go to school every day unless you're sick, and you tell me when you're feeling sick. You got all that?"

"Yes, m....Nana."

"Good. Now, I know you're used to a fancier living than this, but I expect you to adjust without too much complaint. You still get your own bed, and whatever you brought is yours to keep, but money is tight. We save where we can, and I expect you to help with that. Turn off lights, use less water, unplug things when you're not using them."

Steve nods again, inexplicably feeling a little better as Nana speaks. She's not treating him like a spoiled brat, but she's not coddling him, either. She gets another boy (an older one named Hardison) to give him a tour of the house. He shows Steve the mezzuzahs on each door and the Kaaba directional marker in each room---"We're a multi-denominational household, kid, Nana will get whatever you need if she doesn't have it already," Hardison says, grinning widely at him---and makes sure he knows which spots are good for hiding when he needs a few minutes.

He ends the tour at Steve's new room. It has two bunk-beds, three of the bunks with rumpled sheets and one bottom bunk devoid of sheets altogether. Hardison gives Steve blue sheets, welcomes him, and then leaves Steve to unpack by himself.

It's new, it's unfamiliar, it's terrifying. Steve hopes, despite himself, that it's not a temporary stop.

----

"I don't care! He can't stay!"

"We're already in London, Hardison. We can hardly send him back on a plane by himself."

"Isn't that how he got here in the first place? He's 17, not seven."

Steve moves his gaze from Hardison to Sophie to Eliot, feeling like he's watching a tennis match. He's sandwiched between Nate and Parker, a hand on his shoulder holding him back from trying to defend himself. Not that he's upset about it. Keeping everyone from turning their frustration on him sounds like a great idea.

"Yeah, and how did he get here?" Parker asks, dashing Steve's hopes right as they're forming.

He shifts uncomfortably as everyone looks at him, ducking his head and staring at the floor. A small part of him is frustrated, angrily protesting the familiar move when its usual target has long been absent.

"Hey, give him some room," Hardison says, moving forward to push Nate and Parker back a few steps. He stands at an angle to Steve, leaving him plenty of room to move away if he wants. "Nobody's angry, kid. Well, I'm a little mad, but only because you could be putting yourself in danger. So, how'd you catch up to us?"

Steve wonders for a brief moment about whose wrath he'd rather endure. In the end, he decides Breanna is scarier than Hardison, so he lies. "Nana and I overheard you on the phone with Parker at Hannukah dinner, and then Nana said she gets worried about you sometimes," he says, meeting Hardison's eyes before glancing away. He makes himself small again, but it's on purpose this time, broadcasting shame as he adds, "I still have, um, access to my savings account...from my....from them. Enough for a plane ticket and cab ride, at least."

"Aww, Nana worries about us," Parker says, smiling brightly as she nudges Eliot with her elbow. "That's sweet."

"If it weren't a lie," Sophie says, her lips pursed and her eyebrows raised slightly as she walks closer to Steve. She taps his shoulder, his temple, and his hand. "Lowered head but not as low as before. Shoulders drawn in but tense to hold them there. Fingers twitching just slightly. Impressive, I will admit, but I'm a professional, darling."

Steve sighs and lifts his head, his shoulders relaxing some as he frowns. "You didn't have to call me out on it," he mumbles.

"Breanna got you here, didn't she? Ain't no way you'd lie to protect anyone else."

"She could ruin me, Hardison."

"I can ruin you, too, did you forget about that?"

Steve considers him for a moment before shrugging.

"Well," Nate says, clapping his hands together and pulling everyone's attention to him. "Steve is here now, we might as well use him. Sophie, give him an Italian accent and some suede shoes."

"I can already speak Italian," Steve says, "and I have my own suede shoes to match a Cesare Attolini suit." He feels something like guilt twinge in his stomach when Hardison glances at him. Steve's mother may have forfeited custody of him, but she still sends gifts every now and then. Steve usually sells them, slips the cash into drawers and wallets and couch cushions so they can be discovered by Nana and his foster siblings.

The suit and shoes, though? Steve couldn't bring himself to sell them. If there was one thing he missed about life before Nana's foster home, it was the clothes. It was the way his clothes made him feel like a better version of himself, a version everyone would admire and approve of. So, yeah, he'd kept the clothes and shoes his mother sent him two months ago, and he'd packed them for this trip just because.

He'd glad they seem to be coming in handy.

After processing his words, Nate blinks, a smile growing on his face like he's discovered a treasure he won't be letting go of any time soon.

----

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[rin-vana]

⠀⠀⠀⠀───◌┈┈─── ♡ 𝇄 𝇃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐍𝐎𝐖 ┋ 𝐅𝐓. 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

⎯⎯ ( 𝙋𝘼𝙄𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎 ) : Doctor!Kento x Pregnant!Reader

⎯⎯ ( 𝙎𝙔𝙉𝙊𝙋𝙎𝙄𝙎 ) : Kento's favorite patient came to his office and he always looks forward to her visits, but she seems particularly down. Luckily Kento has the medicine just for her.

⎯⎯ ( 𝘾.𝙒. ) : Use of nicknames (love, angel mainly), reader has bad anxiety and hormones over all, public sex (in a patient room), Kento has been a little neglectful towards reader, angst to sex, heaaavyyy oral I mean Kento is literally obsessed, position switching (face sitting), reader has stretch marks n obviously black coded as well as thick coded, watersports (squirting), Kento is obsessed with reader, literally a filthy man

⎯⎯ ( 𝙒.𝘾. ) : 5,243

⎯⎯ ( 𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀𝙎 ) : This took TOO damn long n its not even properly proofread I am so srry . College is fr a bitch but I hope that this piece gets as much love as Aisle 7 <3

Will he be annoyed to see me?

The very first thought that ran through your head as you sat in your car that was parked outside the large, and seemingly never ending, white hospital. Why you were there was because your dear husband worked inside that very hospital, and due to your mood swings, you wanted to see him. In fact you felt a tingle in your chest at the idea of being able to visit him during work, but the lingering idea that he'd be annoyed with your presence sat foremost in your head.

Your hands gripped onto the steering wheel, contemplating whether or not to go back home. You did make it this far though, and it'd be a waste to turn back, plus you were already there. So you got out before regret started to take its toll on you, locking the doors to your cute little Infiniti Q60. You made your way to the wide automatic glass doors that opened to the front desk, two familiar faces sitting behind them.

”Evening, Mrs. Nanami. I'm assuming you're here for Kento,” spoke one of them. You approached the pristine desk, setting your purse atop. The woman had decently long brown hair, and noticeable bags under her eyes. In a friendly manner you smiled at how she spoke to you, feeling a little more at ease about your visit.

”Of course. Why else would I be here with this stomach of mine?” You referred to your baby bump that only seemed to grow bigger by the day. If you weren't so determined to see your husband then you definitely would've stayed home. Either way you were already at the hospital, so there was no turning back.

”I was just about to head up, so I'll walk you.”

”Thank you Shoko.” The woman moved from behind the desk and towards another set of double doors, waiting for you as you waddled your way over towards her. With your purse in tow you two traverse through the hallways painted in crisp white, doors leading to a multitude of operating rooms and technology you can never wrap your head around. Shoko guides you towards the elevators but it seemed to be taking a bit so you decided to make light conversation.

”Has he been stressing himself again?”

”You know how he is,” she starts with a heavy sigh. Here we go. ”Once he starts something he just has to finish it. Paperwork, diagnostics, pretty much anything that keeps 'im busy.”

Yup. That had Kento Nanami written all over it, certainly something your husband would do. He was a workaholic at heart, a trait he's never been able to get rid of since his high school days. In all the years you've known him he's been like that, even after the birth of your first daughter, in fact all that did was make him want to become a better doctor. ”Actually, 'm glad you came here, maybe you'll distract him before he starts downing coffee.”

You shared a laugh with the woman before responding to her. ”Don't know how much of a distraction I'll be. He hasn't.. well– actually, nevermind.”

”By all means, continue.” Now the brown haired female was looking at you. You chewed your lip as the words seem to bubble in your throat, but you're quick to swallow them.

”It's nothing, I'm fine.”

Shoko didn't want to press further so she just shrugged and you silently prayed a thank you because the conversation would've become awkward with the way you'd pour your heart out to the woman. Luckily the elevator finally came by then, so you stepped inside as she followed behind. Instinctively you pressed the fourth floor, the very floor where Kento's office was situated. It felt like muscle memory, being in the hospital and navigating it. Hell, you could walk around the whole facility by yourself and know exactly where you're going.

The quick elevator trip was quiet and the walk down the bright hallways was done in the same fashion, save for a few doctors that threw basic greetings your way. You knew a good amount of the staff thanks to your frequent visits, however usually you'd be here under a more positive premise.

Shoko guides you towards one of the many patient rooms, opening the door and moving to the side so you can enter the room. ”I'll let Nanami know you're here. Can't say it won't take a while though, so get comfortable.”

”I assumed as much. Thank you.”

The door closes and now you're alone. The room itself is nice, a counter on one end with cabinets above, and the other with a bed covered in a thin white sheet. The wall in front of you was covered in large windows, so it felt bigger than what it was on the inside, but in that same breath it felt as lonely as your household. You move towards the bed and sit yourself on it, placing your purse down and allowing yourself to get comfortable while being mindful of the prominent bump on your tummy. C'mon, move with mommy.

You somehow manage to get yourself comfortable, heels kicked off and forgotten on the linoleum floor so your feet can rest on the mattress. A huff of relief leaves your lips once your back is rested upon the slanted part of the hospital bed, allowing you to fully be situated so you can wait for your husband. Though nothing could've prepared you for how long it was going to take. Sure, you know Kento is always busy during these hours and you respected that, but a slither of you hoped he'd try to quicken things knowing you were there.

It took a good two hours of waiting until you heard a knock on the door. You had no idea when you fell asleep, but you started waking up again to give the person a response. ”Come in,” you project.

The door opens, revealing a tall man in a crisp white button up and black dress pants, blonde tufts partially framing his face. Your husband, Kento Nanami. You begin to move in order to sit up some more and give your husband a proper greeting, but before you know it he's quickly rushing to the bed and helping you lay back down comfortably.

”You should've told me you were coming to visit.” It's all he says, but it makes you happy to hear the worried tone in his voice nonetheless.

”If I did y'would've told me to stay home instead.” Kento had a look of hesitancy, and even bashfulness in his face since what you said was extremely true. Ever since you started to significantly show he advised you to take it easy and drive less since you have a history of getting stressed behind the wheel.

”Would you have stayed home if I told you to?”

”Hell no.”

Kento heaved a sigh as his eyes trailed down to your ever so swollen tummy. The way it protruded out with his child in there all over again, it's no wonder he wanted another so soon. You couldn't exactly say no to him either when you both promised to have at least two kids together, and now that you were on your second pregnancy, the excitement should at least be there. So why was the excitement not there in the first place?

”Shoko already told me you were two seconds from doing overtime again. What time was you expecting to be home?”

There was an obvious pause coming from your husband, awkwardness quickly taking over in the silence that filled the empty room. Your point was proven by the way Kento opted to simply not say a damn word, your stress levels already elevating since this topic was long overdue and you were tired of dancing around it for so long. Every time you tried to confront him about it, the conversation would be dismissed under the excuse of exhaustion and it’s over. But the whole reason why you came to see him in the first place was to convince the man to actually come home at a decent time.

It was then he finally decided to speak up. ”I was trying to get it done as soon as possible before y’started stressin’ yourself out, Love.” While he spoke he kept your gaze with his own, his hands being gentle in the way they rested on your stomach. His watch had brushed up against you occasionally as he began in a circular motion to ease your heightened emotions, and even though it worked temporarily you still didn’t entirely calm down. Just as you opened your mouth to say something, Kento was already speaking. ”Was getting up here a challenge? You know you shouldn’t be moving too much. What about your hormones–”

”Ken, I’m pregnant, not handicapped,” you sternly reminded him, taking the chance to also remove his hands from your body. In turn you grabbed his wrists, leaving him standing there with an expression that shifted to an obvious stupor. He knew he was to blame for the reason why you took the journey to see him during his grueling hours of work, and as much as you appreciated his care there wasn’t an ounce of you that wanted to hear it. It was then that you wanted him to understand why you felt the way you did, and to be quite frank if he wasn’t going to listen then the conversation would be entirely different. You know he loves you, and vice versa, but there’s an elephant in the room that needs to be addressed. ”I know how much you love your work baby, n’ I know you’re worried, but half the time it don’t feel like it. We don’t spend as much time together n’—”

Knock knock knock.

You don't even finish before Kento is moving towards the door to answer the person on the other side. You're left sitting on the bed with your legs dangling, mouth parted since you were mid-sentence. Can I not get my husband to myself no more? In your slowly building aggravation, you made out the voice on the other side to be a woman's, but with Kento's broad back you can't exactly see the other person, you just know you wanted them gone so you can finally tell him exactly how you felt. It's been what felt like months of you feeling like this, the shadow of loneliness finding its way to creep up on you in your home. Even with your little girl who can be a handful, there's an emptiness to your household.

”Sorry [ Name ],” Kento started as he approached you, placing his hands on either side of your body so that you're practically caged in his arms. ”You have my undivided attention. What's plaguing my wife?” It was now or never. But your confidence in telling him decreased at his words. The way he claims you as his wife and how close he was to your body. It reminded you of an intimacy that's been long forgotten.

”Ken, I know your work is important to you, but it feel like that's all you care about.”

You put your words in a blunt manner so the main cause of your stress and why you came to see him, but you didn't prepare for the way his face would show every bit of stunned on it. It didn't stop you, in fact it urged you on to continue. ”You could be home, but it doesn't feel like you're actually there, y'know? You work long ass hours then come home, say a few words 'nd go to bed. 'S been like this for the past few months.”

It felt satisfactory to get everything off your chest, you even heaved a little sigh due to your shortness of breath. You're too scared to look at your husband though, scared that what you'll face is something much harsher compared to the loving doctor you married. Did I sound ungrateful? Did I even make sense? You question your decision as the silence dragged on. Did I say something wrong?

”[Name], love, ” you hear his voice call out. Ever so smooth and gentle, that gravelly undertone making you want to look at him. But before you can do it yourself, his hand is reaching towards your face, cupping your cheek in a manner to get your attention. He tilts your head in his direction, and it only then makes you realize that Kento's face is so damn close to yours. You swear he can hear your heartbeat with how loud it sounds in your ears.

”Been doing this to my sweet wife for the past few months? Leaving her all alone 'n bothered, sweet thing I don't deserve you.” That name. He knew it was your favorite to hear.

Your eyes start watering subconsciously, you don't even realize it until Kento's finger is wiping away the tear that slides down your cheek, grazing upon your jutted out bottom lip that pouts at him. ”Y'missed me and I couldn't even tell. 'M so sorry baby. Don't cry, you know I love you.”

Fuck. You didn't want to cry, not like this. Your damn hormones were screwing you over, but to hear such three simple words that you've said all throughout your marriage had more tears coming down your face. Embarrassed, you look down again, but your husband doesn't allow it for long, tilting your head back up while his thumb rests on your lip.

”Can't leave my angel crying 'cause of me, tell me how you want to fix it.”

”Ken—” You're whining. You weren't supposed to whine, but you did. Not only did you mentally miss him, but you missed him physically too. You feel the fabric of his dress pants in between your thick thighs, keeping them apart even though you so badly wanted to close them tight.

”Tell me how you wanna fix it [Name]. I'll do whatever you want, I can't stand seeing my angel cry 'cause of me.”

His tone sounded so sweet again, even a little lower than before, but it still carried the same way through the air. You missed this part of him, all of him. You missed the long nights you'd spend of just loving on each other, pure and raw, drowned in one another. The way he'd take his time with you, waiting for your reaction to continue, you need that intimacy you had before, and you needed it bad.

”Kento.. all I want is your attention, your love. I just want you.”

”There's my girl. No more cryin' okay?”

You nodded to his sweet words like an obedient puppy, becoming subservient to the way you felt like you had his attention finally. Tears kept coming down your face still, but Kento was there to kiss them all away, just like he's gonna kiss any other pains and aches away from your body. It's his job after all, to fix any ailments and illnesses, especially for his wife.

You just need a little bit more love, that's all.

The blonde's kisses trail from your tear-stained cheeks to your pouty lips that he catches with his own. Immediately you whine at how much you missed having his mouth on yours, feeling yourself become like puddy when he begins guiding you to lay down on the hospital bed. It's then you're reminded where you are, and your kiss that lasted too long and too short ended.

”What– what if somebody comes in?”

You sounded exasperated even from such a short kiss when you and your husband have definitely done worse. You look so cute worrying and out of breath, he thinks to himself, but he can't get lost in the ocean of thoughts he has about you otherwise he'd be there staring at your pretty face for hours.

”Nobody is coming in any time soon, angel. I promise.” Even with his reassuring tone you still had your anxiety that you'd be caught being intimate in a public place, and as much as the risk had you rubbing your thighs together all over again, you also wanted to save yourself the embarrassment. ”How're you so sure?”

”I have the rest of the day off, [Name]. 'M all yours right now, jus' like you wanted me. I can't let my wife go untreated, can I?”

As much as you wanted to retort back with something, you responded with a small "no," and kept your silence. You finally have him to yourself. The idea of that alone leads to you initiating a fiery kiss, hands decorated with nails that are blue in color cupping your lover's face since now he was hovering above you. One knee was on your side supporting him on the bed, the other foot planted on the shiny floor as he kissed you with every bit of fiber in his body. God I missed you.

Your hands start sliding all over him, wanting to pry off that stupid button up the more his own large hands slide down your body towards your waist and tummy, one beginning to run circles around your womb area and it ignites all sorts of butterflies inside you. The way he can be so gentle and loving to your body always left you wanting more from him, and right now your mind was screaming at you to take this opportunity to love on your husband. Kento's hands continue moving south until they reach the hem of your decently long dress, pulling it up above your baby bump to reveal your cotton panties to him. So cute. The simple pair made you look all innocent even though he knew you were the opposite.

”Ken.. don't jus' stare.”

Your sweet sounding voice full of need urged him on, and along with your voice and body language he could tell you needed this badly. Don't worry, I got you baby. Prying a finger between the fabric and the side of your thigh where your stretch marks began forming, Kento tugged your panties off slowly, as if he was granting himself the blessing of revealing your semi-naked body to his eyes. He looked so sexy like this. Blonde tuffs framing his face messily, olive eyes staring at your now bare pussy. Just being under his gaze felt hot.

He tapped the side of your thigh to get your attention, noticing how you were drifting off. ”Spread your legs angel, keep 'em open nice 'n wide okay?”

Meekly you nod at his command, doing just as he said because you swear you can feel his breath fanning on your lower lips. All it does is make you want to feel more of that warmth tenfold and you'll lose yourself in raw need without it. Even though you so sweetly asked him not to stare, he can’t help it, the way you were literally oozing as soon as a long finger of his spread your cute lips open. Why couldn’t he go any faster? It’s like he was teasing you on purpose, but if only you understood why he was being so slow with you. His stressed out wife took the journey to see him at work, he has to treat her well or he deems himself unworthy of your care. After all, you’re carrying his child all over again.

Your lips had parted to voice your needs, but before you knew it you felt something hot and wet lick from your opening to your clit ever so agonizingly slow, lips closing on your protruding clit leaving such a long and satisfied sigh to leave your mouth. Your hand slowly made its way to his hair, only messing it up further as your fingers intertwined with his blonde strands. Kento can feel the way your body slowly starts to ease up and unravel with every slow, loving kiss he leaves on your little love button.

His sucking began to become more tenacious and eager, his eyes no longer locked with your pussy but now trailed up your half-exposed body to your lidded eyes that struggled to stay open. He couldn't blame you, after all you expressed how badly you missed him and what kind of husband would Kento Nanami be if he wasn't at his wife's beck and call?

”Baby..,” you moaned in such a darling-like manner. He knew he'd fall victim to whatever request you asked of him. ”More please…, I missed this.”

You're gonna be the death of him, he knows it, and yet he still complies and moves his tongue further down. Keeping a strong, sexy gaze locked on your eyes that peaked above your swollen stomach as he does so. You wanted to break eye contact as you felt your face heating up, as if he were a predator looking at his prey, but you felt his tongue probe at your entrance before entering you in full.

Your breath quicked feeling like the needs you repressed for so long were finally being met the more Kento’s tongue practically explored your insides with fervor. His hands maneuvered to your knees, only to spread them apart further as if he were granting himself more access to your hole. For a second his mouth pulled away, only to return to your clit that looked as if it were calling out to him. ”Y’know I missed you too right? I missed my pretty angel and I missed her pussy.”

”You’re so filthy”, you breathlessly commented, but it still filled you with emotions you haven’t felt in so long, and you were slowly becoming addicted to your husband all over again. The way you felt the vibrations from your aching core throughout the entire lower half of your body had your legs quivering like you wanted to close them, but Kento kept them nice and open to indulge in your flavor. He needed to show his wife how much he loved and appreciated her, how much he relished in the fact you were carrying his second child and enduring the pains all over again.

His right hand began making its way up your leg until his index and middle finger slid inside your sopping hole, the intrusion feeling a little awkward but you relaxed since he allowed you to get adjusted on his thick digits. ”Hohh, that feels good,” you absentmindedly mumbled, the small grip you had on his hair increasing once his fingers began pistoning in and out of your hole.

A feeling distant but familiar began building up within your lower abdomen once his fingers curled upwards, your hips slightly raising off the clean white mattress that began to become soaked in your essence. Kento had his eyes fixated on your body, watching every writhe and twitch.

You look so good like this. He wanted to see more, see the way you lose yourself on him again, see the way your lust for him grows after every orgasm. He needed it like the starved man he was. Your lips were babbling nonsense but the blonde simply blocked it out, hearing muffled ”not yet”s in between sugary moans.

You kept tugging on his hair to get the message across that you were about to cum, but your husband was already ahead of you. He knew. He always knew when you were about to give him your sweetest gift, it came with endless nights spent under his hold. Your thighs threatened to close around his head just to prolong the inevitable, squeezing so cutesy around his head as your whines just kept coming. His tongue felt so sticky and hot and good on your clit. Why was he so good at making you feel like this? Because a husband should know his wife and all her needs.

The bind in your core began to become detangled, feeling like a tight pressure was released as your nectar began coating Kento's fingers that continued to piston in and out of you and leak onto his chin. ”Kennnn,” you drag out through your high, grinding your hips on his face to ride out your climax. Feeling your body shudder less, his fingers finally pulled out your hole, leaving it fluttering so he couldn't help but coo at the sight. ”Get up f'me angel.”

Mindlessly you're doing as you're told, on trembling legs of course. It's been so long since you felt that good of a climax and the only thing on your mind was reaching it again. You watch your husband climb onto the bed in a lying position, making a "come here" motion with his index and middle finger so again you listen. You climbed on top of him until your naked sex is sitting on his clothed lower abdomen, juices staining the dressy material but that was the last thing on both of your minds.

”You know how this goes. Sit on my face.” As if it should've been obvious. You scoffed at the little smirk on his face, the one he usually gets when he knows full and damn well you get shy at the idea of making a throne out his face. Either way you listen because you've been deprived of this, and he knows that. Kento Nanami had always been a man of little words, so he let his actions convey how he really felt. This was his way of helping you release that pent up stress.

You scooch yourself up until you're just barely hovering above his collarbone, but Kento can't have that. You wanted him right? So why couldn't you let him please you like this? The very question had the blonde making his signature stoic face, that is until his hands reach to your thighs, trailing up the smooth skin he's traced without fail until he memorized your beautiful curves. His hands land on your ass, giving the flesh a tight squeeze before he's pulling your cunt on his lips once more. He could taste his own saliva on you, but in the mix of that is your sweetness as well.

Immediately you threw your head back once his tongue entered you, your hands scrambling to grab the railings on the side of the hospital bed. You were being so loud and your husband couldn't get enough of it. Kento knows he's filthy, in fact he's well aware, but it's worth it when you get like this over his obscene ways. Wet muscle leaving its imprint on your gummy insides, hands kneading at your thick flesh. This might just become his favorite thing to do.

Your pussy was still sensitive from your first orgasm, so the burning hot sensation in between your legs was practically screaming at you. Kento's tongue helped none at all and it was quickly becoming too much for you to handle, overwhelming your poor little brain past the point of stupid since you can't even remember the last time you felt pleasure this good in a while. Your knuckles turned a few shades lighter gripping on the sides, your teeth practically chewing your bottom lip as you tried to stay quiet but it felt so hard. Impossible even. Poor thing.

Tears flooded your eyes once his movements started getting more demanding, aggressive even. It was as if he was starved of a proper meal for weeks, consuming every bit of you. The droplets rolled down your cheeks right past your pouting lips. Kento had his eyes glued to your face, and upon seeing your tears his mouth finally pulled away from your sopping cunt.

”I thought I said no more cryin'?” His voice felt like a taunt almost, all sorts of rasp coming behind it. It only made you wanna fuck him more.

”Feels too good..!,” you respond as coherently as possible even though a finger of his was toying with your engorged clit again. He could never get enough of the way you lost yourself on top of him. It only made him wanna feed into your needs more if you were like this just because of his tongue.

Your mouth hung open looking down at him, watching the way he shamelessly kept eye contact with you while eating your cunt as if it were a full course meal, making out with your pussy in such a lewd and wet way it could've been porn worthy. The noises you made urged him on though, wanting to make you louder so nobody could bother him or interrupt your time. Kento refused to let this moment pass up where he has you to himself, soaking wet in between your thighs and singing a chorus of moans.

Fat tears kept rolling down your cheeks, feeling pushed past the brink of overstimulation since the fiery sensation in your stomach was too much. You couldn't even concentrate on the hand moving down to your dripping hole and pushing three fingers inside you. It made your thighs involuntarily close around his head in an attempt to get adjusted, but the doctor didn't give you no time at all.

”This the only time I wanna see you cryin' f'me, okay darling?”

All you can do is nod helplessly, hips instinctively rolling against whatever's giving you the most pleasure, that being his face. Fuck he loved the way you used him to get off like he was nothing but your little sex doll. If this was the only way you'd give him attention he'd be satisfied, you were sometimes too good to be true. Soft sounds filling his ears, the wet squelches of his fingers moving in and out of your hole. You were truly beautiful like this.

”Ken..— Ken! 'M about to cum again, fuck.” You're helpless like this, rendered a babbling angel. His eagerness showed once you finished getting out whatever you were gonna say, a hum that vibrated through your lower being telling you enough that your husband was gonna help you reach another climax. I got you baby.

The fingers inside you curled just a little bit, and it was the sweet pressure you needed to send you over the edge and more. A long drawn out whine left your throat as your gates flooded open. Beads of cum stained Kento's face and clear liquid getting damn near everywhere. He made sure to have his mouth practically latched onto you since he just couldn't let whatever you gave him go to waste. He has to appreciate every last bit of you.

Rendered breathless, you use your hand to push on his forehead to get him to stop, chest heaving as you peek from your belly to get a better look at him. His blonde hair was all sprawled out against the once clean white sheets, eyes blown with every drop of lust imaginable. Seeing him like this reminded you just how sexy he can be. Beneath you, a man with no sense of control around you, all he can do is stare at your face looking like a deer mesmerized by headlights.

You're giggling at the sight as you lift yourself up, him helping you by guiding your hips until you're sitting on his lap, again staining whatever clothes were right there. Catching your breath, the two of you are left to stare at each other in reflection of what you two had done, but all Kento was thinking about in that head of is that you two really need to go home.

[catcze]

Boxer wriothesley making out with you after a fight

16+ !! Suggestive content !!

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

「 FEAT : 」 Wriothesley x GN! reader

「 ### : 」 Fluff, some suggestive content & mentions of sex but nothing actually 18+. Modern au !!

「 CWS : 」 Written pre release so potentially ooc !! Light mentions of injuries. making out 🥴. established relationship. Hand holding & hair pulling. Wriothesley lifts you up at one point and is so down bad. Wriothesley calls the reader sweetheart and baby. Reader wears perfume. Author knows jack shit about boxing and has never watched a boxing match so please excuse any and all inaccuracies

I got this ask and blacked out i saw red i was caught in a whole TRANCE do not perceive me i lost my sanity as i wrote this because the feelings that overcame me at the thought of shirtless, post-fight Wriothesley who shines w/ sweat and is full of post-match adrenaline was too much for my mental capacity to bear

The route to Wriothesley's locker room is one that you can navigate with your eyes closed— a confidence born from familiarity. Every time after a match, whether he wins or he loses, you always find your way from your front row seat to the door you stand before now. The first few times, he had instructed his managers to come pluck you up from your front row seat and escort you, but now the staff just bring you as far as the backstage security clearance, leaving you to find your own way.

You knock on the hard door twice, giving it a moment, then enter—

— and you're immediately swept up into Wriothesley's arms, a startled yelp escaping you as you clutch his shoulders on instinct.

"Hey, sweetheart," Wriothesley murmurs, pressing his nose to your neck while he holds you aloft, your legs tightly around his bare torso. He breathes your perfume in once, twice, like he can't get enough of it. "You enjoy the show?"

"Wriothesley!" you gasp, trying to tug free of his hold, gripping his hair and trying to pull him off of you to no avail. He stubbornly melts even more against you, pushing your back further against the door you came in through. "Put me down! You should be resting right now, not-"

"Not enjoying the fruit of my victory?" he teases against your neck, his tongue licking up the skin, making heat pool in your belly. Your shiver does not go unnoticed, and you can feel the quirk of his lips where they're pressed up against your neck. "'m fine, baby. Already got checked out and everything. Just need to go home and get some ice, that's all," he reassures you, pressing kisses to your neck and the side of your face, his hands squeezing your thighs appreciatively as he keeps you pinned up against the door.

You relax against him then, glad that he's mostly fine. The match had been over quick, anyways— it hadn't dragged out long enough for him to get hurt too badly. He had definitely walked away in much better shape than his opponent, at least.

The hand in his hair stops trying to tug him away, instead pulling him closer. You scratch his scalp and untangle little knots in his hair while he takes his fill of lathering attention onto your skin, making him purr delightedly in between leaving marks and bites wherever his mouth can reach.

When he adjusts his hold on you to free one hand (there's a zing in your veins when he effortlessly holds you up with ease) so it can play with the edge of your shirt, you reach down to pull it away, weaving your fingers together instead.

"We can't fuck in your locker room," you tell him resolutely, a frown on your face. "You have an interview when you go out and your managers will have your head and mine if you go on air looking like you just smashed."

He sighs but acquesces, pulling away from your neck to level his face just a few inches from yours. "Just a kiss, then. That okay?"

You nod and he's on you in an instant. With the short time you both have, Wriothesley hardly dawdles as his tongue traces along the seam of your mouth, instantly dipping in when you grant him entrance. There's a sigh from you and a low groan from him when his tongue meets your own, and he squeezes your hand that's still connected to his.

Wriothesley bites down on your bottom lip, making you gasp and pull him harder against you by his hair. You can feel his heartbeat where his chest is pressed against yours, the sweat on him making him stick to you. Fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, his thumb drawing shapes you can't make out in your kiss-fueled haze.

His tongue licks the inside of your mouth, sighs of bliss transferring from his mouth into yours. "You're so good to me, baby," Wriothesley mumbles against your lips, eyes half lidded and something hungering behind them.

You can't even bring it in yourself to speak, tugging him closer once again because in that moment he is focusing too much on speaking and not enough on kissing you. He chuckles at your desperation, but gives in to you as he always does, letting himself be dragged further into your embrace.

Fuck it, the words are on the tip of your tongue. Fuck the interview. Put your hands under my shirt kiss me somewhere else—

Knock knock.

Like a gunshot, your eyes fly open at the interruption and you hand jolts, accidentally pulling on his hair too hard and making him hiss when he detaches from you. "Sorry, sorry," you murmur to him, pressing a fleeting peck to his lips. Now, it is your turn to bury your nose into his neck.

"You good in there?" The voice of his manager comes floating through the door, muffled. "The interviewer's been waiting a while by now, you know."

"Right, right. Be out in a bit." He hopes his manager doesn't realize that his voice is far too close to the door than it normally should be.

Wriothesley has to stifle a dissatisfied sound, maneuvering you off the door and gently placing you down on the bench in the room, mindful of the way your legs shake. A gentle kiss is placed to the crown of your head, then to the back of the hand he holds before he lets go.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he says in a low rumble, voice deepened from the makeout. His lips are swollen from all the kissing— you hope people attribute it to his fight instead of a post-fight makeout. "Sit tight here, I'll come back for you when I'm done."

Then that hunger reappears in his eyes and his smile gets the slightest bit sharper. "We'll go home and continue where we left off. I promise."