#like come home and click what are you doing baby

[sttoru]

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. caleb x female reader. fluff, suggestive/smut-ish, tiny bit of angst. not proofread. aftercare with boyfie caleb ^_^

caleb is nothing but sweet to you, in public and in private. but he’s especially considerate after he collapses on the bed, with both your bodies sweaty from the passion you shared. aftercare is mandatory to the colonel—it doesn’t matter when or where you two do it.

“you okay, sweets?” caleb’s voice is a rough rumble, his voice hoarse from exhaustion. you nod wordlessly while trying to calm down after your intense climaxes. his strong arms hold you against his chest with ease, “breathe in ‘n out, mhm, there ya go. atta girl.”

he watches you mimic his pattern of breathing and grins in response. you always blindly followed his instructions—that trust and vulnerability of yours is something he adores and wishes to keep that way. his large hand settles on the back of your head to pat your hair soothingly. you slowly come down from your high and limply rest your head against his hard pecs.

“you did so well, i’m really proud of you,” caleb pinches your cheek like he always does, making you huff and stick your tongue out at him playfully. your boyfriend chuckles before doing the same thing again. he can’t help it; you’re too adorable for your own good.

you shake your head and nuzzle your face into his chest. “mmmh, hurts,” you whine as you try to move your body. your hips are already sore from exertion and they ache whenever you try to move them an inch.

caleb’s eyes darken at your little whine. “hurts? where?” he cups your face immediately to tilt your head, your eyes locking. you’re a bit taken aback by the sudden change in his tone—from laid back to concerned and protective in a split second.

“ah, no, my hips are just a bit sore. nothing out of the ordinary,” you quickly reassure your lover. you know how overprotective caleb gets, and if he had accidentally hurt you in any way, he’ll feel extremely guilty for the rest of the day.

caleb’s frown slowly disappears, but the concern still lingers in his softening eyes. he sighs in relief and a small smile tugs at his lips. “i’m sorry, baby. i’ll make it up to you,” he croons with a breathy chuckle following right after.

his large hands, warm and callused from all that he experienced, settle on your bare hips to massage them. you hum in relief and your eyes close to enjoy the warmth spreading through your tired body.

a loud ringtone suddenly cuts through the lingering tension between you two, snapping you out of your daze. caleb faintly clicks his tongue before turning his head towards his nightstand. he grabs his phone with one hand to check the caller’s id.

the brown-haired man beneath you tenses up. you can feel it almost immediately. his other hand stops massaging your hip for a second before it continues, this time more slowly. caleb’s gaze is cold and his jaw is clenched as he tries to figure out what to do.

“not gonna pick up?” you ask curiously as you lift your head from his chest. caleb quickly tosses his phone away after pressing the red decline button. he shakes his head and that charming smile of his quickly returns to his face.

“nu-uh. no one’s more important than you,” caleb grins and boops your nose. it’s an attempt to distract you so you wouldn’t ask any more questions about the possible caller. and it seems to work, considering you laid your head back on his bare chest, snuggling up to his bare body beneath the crumpled sheets.

you breathe in his musk and can’t help but love it. the faint traces of his cologne mixed with the scent of his body—it’s a heady combination. caleb seems to do the same, his nose buried into the strands of your hair, breathing you in. you smell like home and he loves it, lives for it really.

eventually, you decide it’s time to detangle yourself from your lover. as much as you want to keep him inside and beneath of you, you need to clean up and go to the bathroom.

caleb hisses when you try to roll over and change positions which had caused you to instinctively clench around him. he tightens his muscular arms around your waist to keep you squished on top of him, refusing to let you move.

“stay like this for a little while more, yeah? i promise i’ll let you go in a bit,” caleb whispers in your ear before his tongue teasingly licks at your lobe. he smirks against your skin and you can feel it. you know it’s a lie—he will not let you go for the rest of the night. hell, he might even be ready to go another round.

even if he technically has to leave to take care of all kinds of things. things that will keep you safe and out of harm’s way.

anyway, caleb will deal with the consequences of skipping his duty later. for now he’ll settle to cherish this serene moment with his beloved, before reality comes crashing down again.

[girlinaboxx]

what happened after the explosion..// sevika x reader ﹒₊‧ ﹒𓆩 𓆪﹒₊ ﹒﹒

this is just a ramble, a short story—whatever you want to call it. no major warnings, just heavy angst.

you were losing your mind.

it was nearly 4 AM, and she still wasn’t home. six hours late. that wasn’t just late—it was unheard of. sevika was always late, sure, but never this late. maybe you were overthinking it. maybe you were being too naïve, too soft, too you to understand the kind of life she led.

but then again, maybe you weren’t.

a thousand thoughts raced through your head, each worse than the last. had a deal gone wrong? was there a fight? had someone stronger—meaner—finally taken her down? you tried to push those thoughts away, but they sank their claws in deep, festering, growing roots inside your chest. you had called. you had texted. hell, you had even stood by the door, keys in hand, heart in your throat, seriously considering breaking the one rule she made crystal clear:

“if i ever saw you at any of Silco’s— i will wreck your shit.”

a direct order. one you weren’t stupid enough to disobey. but if she didn’t show up in the next hour, you didn’t care.

then, just as your panic was reaching its breaking point, the front door creaked open.

relief flooded through you for exactly one second. then you saw her.

sevika wasn’t alone.

she wasn’t standing.

she wasn’t okay.

deckard stood in the doorway, her massive, half-conscious body draped over his arms. he looked at you like he was waiting for something, maybe for you to freak out, maybe for you to do something—but you couldn’t move. you couldn’t breathe.

because your baby was broken.

her shoulder was a mess of blood-soaked bandages and metal clamps, barely holding together the raw, exposed wound. she was awake, but only barely—bleary-eyed and exhausted, her head lolling against deckard’s chest. you’d never seen her look so small before. so… defenseless.

you wanted to scream. to cry. to shake her, demand what the hell happened, why she let this happen—why she always had to come home in pieces. but there was no time for any of that. you needed to pull yourself together. you needed to be strong. For her.

deckard didn’t say a word as he carried her inside, setting her down carefully on your couch before stepping back. you barely registered the sound of him leaving, the door clicking shut behind him. the apartment was quiet, except for her breathing—shaky, uneven, pained.

you dropped to your knees beside her, hands hovering over her as if she were made of glass.

she cracked one swollen eye open, her lips twitching like she was about to smirk, about to throw out some cocky remark to make you feel better. but nothing came.

instead, her fingers curled into the fabric of your shirt, holding on like it was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.

and then, for the first time in two years of loving her, sevika cried.

she buried her face against your chest, her broad shoulders trembling. tears—real tears—hot and silent, soaking into your skin. it shattered something inside you, something you hadn’t even realized could break.

you wrapped your arms around her, pulling her closer, cradling her like she was something precious, something fragile—something you would burn the world for.

you stayed like that for an hour. maybe longer. just rocking her gently, pressing trembling kisses against her temple, whispering things you weren’t even sure made sense. she never cried out loud, but you felt every sob against your chest as she soaked it in tears, in the way her grip on your shirt tightened to the point of tearing.

finally, she spoke.

“i can’t hold you like I truly want now..”

and just like that.. you heard your heart shatter, your fingers threaded through her hair, your lips brushing over her damp forehead.

“you still have me.”

and you meant it. every word.

no matter how many pieces she came home in, no matter how much she thought she lost—she still had you.

always.

[clubsoft]

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⠀ ⠀ LOVE HANGOVER ⠀ ⠀ JEY USO / POC ! F ! READER⠀⠀

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GAME ⋆ send me a ask with a prompt following this guide && i'll write u short story !! i am still accepting one more submission !! SUBMITTED BY @LUVRSLUXE : * 15 / all - too familiar coconut shampoo * M / a blue lacey thong * 𓆈 / a tropical storm

SUMMARY ⋆ jey knows what's his && nothing shakes that . WARNINGS ⋆ jey is toxic like it gave britney badddd ( sorry not sorry ) / argument / reader lowk isnt any better than jey / one punch / 3rd person POV ; no use of Y/N WORD COUNT ⋆ 755 NOTES ⋆ ci i told u toxic is what i do bestttt , also i was so h!gh when i wrote this that my proofreading cant b trusted so sorry if it reads like gibbrish , but ayeee i posted <3 enjoy !!

Fight me.

Shadowed by doll-like lashes, a set of eyes stares at the pathetic figure of a very angry, red hot, raging ex boyfriend. Her ex boyfriend. His beige leather jacket is draped over her bare shoulders. She’d attempted to deny it, he’d scoffed and fixed it atop her frame without a word. The familiar blend of warmth; amber, citrus, sandalwood — that fucking coconut shampoo was disarming, clouding her mind. 

Fight me. 

Her hellish position is one of her own creation. The cologne intoxicated her — her excuse for allowing him to take her hand, pull her along, out of the lounge, through the alleyway towards the parking garage. The air is heavy with winter petrichor, cold drizzly mist clinging to tufts of perfectly styled hair, adorning it like pearls. They melted away past the doorway. Two large hands gripped her waist, her feet lifting off the ground, and she found herself seated atop the hood of his car, almost eye level with the man of the hour. A tense silence hung in the air. His thumbs dented at the flesh of her hips, warmth seeping through the lace of her dress; a slick, white hot sensation drags from her belly to her center, spurred on by his fingertips tracing down her thighs. Fingers balling up, jaw tightening, she’d given him a mental countdown of ten, irked by his disregard of the distance between them. At six, his hand cradled her nape, tenderly tugging her hair over the collar of his jacket. At three, he used his knuckles to trace her jaw. At one, she gave in to her anger, letting her heart control her fist, landing it swiftly against his heavenly cheekbone. 

Fight me. 

Jey swore a train of curses so vile, the devil himself would be impressed. If Jey heard himself, he’d be impressed. Either or, the devil would be impressed. She’d swung a home run, opened the gates of hell. 

“Why the fuck are you touching me? You did me so fuckin’ dirty — who the fuck do you think you are?” Contrasting her anger is the effort of putting her heeled feet on the ground, staying balanced enough to attempt an escape. As the glass bottoms of her shoes click onto smooth concrete, he snaps out of his pity party, clutching his cheek, smoldering gaze locked on her. “Who the fuck  —”

“All of a sudden, you give a fuck about me playin’ you?” A low, hungry rasp reverberates in his voice, his jaw ticking, vein popping in his neck. “I’m not leavin’ ‘til you hate me, so you let me know if you wanna talk or if we gotta make up another way.” Her incredulous laugh, the sound of pure disbelief that meets the end of his sentence would set any other man in his position down the deep end — the sneer on his lips proves he isn’t just any other man, canines tipped with gold fangs winking; a lion licking his chops. “Look how easy I make you laugh, baby. Just come home. I’ll be nice this time. Promise.” 

He travels a step forward; her, one back. 

“M’not laughing with you, m’laughing at you. Took you a day to move onto the next bitch when I asked for some time to myself but I’m supposed to let you walk back through the door because?” The question is rhetorical, inquired in a tone that holds a challenge; the answer meets her knife with a gun. 

“Because you’re mine. I have fun, you have fun, then it’s me and you again. S’how it works, mama, m’sorry,” Jey croons, pouting with feigned sympathy. Their closeness doesn’t dawn on her until she glances up and his figure is blocking the light, casting a shadow over her. There’s that tug again, electric, fiery. “If you wanna switch it up so bad, I can help you… I’ll find you a good guy, let you have a break from me… but baby, did you really think I was just gonna let you go?”  Her lack of restraint is a practical error, not entirely her fault, though it sure feels as such when she wakes up the next morning in his bed — alone. There’s no note, no breakfast cooking in the kitchen. Any proof that she’d even existed the night prior is cleaned up, all but the blue lacey thong flung over the faucet. It isn’t an oversight — if she wasn’t familiar with Jey, she’d convince herself it was — he’s taunting her, underlining his words, saying: I told you so.

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⠀⠀ ⠀ © CLUBSOFT⠀⠀ ⠀

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TAGLIST ⋆ @days1 / @luvrsluxe / @uceyliyahh / @uceypunk / @punksyeet / @chasssssworld / @ctinadiva / @bookuce / @bratzzzdoll / @mselenalovebug / @sheaabuttaababyy / @partypoison00 / @meemee444u / @pr0wlerpunk / @queeny23 / @mingisfavgf / @brianochka / @prettyfilmz / @y4-mama if u would like 2 be added 2 my tag list 4 my fics , pls click this link && fill out the form !! u will be added immediately && get a notif for my next fic !!

[sunnydalelibrarian]

Buffy Rewatch: Episodes 1-4

Episode 1: "Welcome to the Hellmouth"

I love how Buffy knows Willow's her girl right away

Regina George wishes she was as cool as Cordelia Chase tbh

Why is Xander kinda giving baby Chandler Bing??

That opening shot of the library feels like coming home <3

Oh, Giles looks so young!! They all do oh my god

I love how quickly Willow and Giles just clicked with each other as well

I forgot Giles worked for the British Museum, he's so me-coded I love him

"It's Sunnydale. How bad an evil can there be here?" Oh baby girl you have no idea

Ah yes, the "Rejection of the Call" stage of the Hero's Journey

Angel dude why are you just following her around like some creep?

"You're like a textbook with arms" once again, Giles is basically me

Oh my god I forgot how goofy looking the master was!

Episode 2: "The Harvest"

Giles really said "well, these kids are in it now, might as well loop them in" - my man breaking the Watchers' Council rules from day one

His little smile when Willow says she hacked the city council system, like "I should not be encouraging this but well done child"

Angel is kinda giving Angelus attitude in these episodes with the whole snarky aloof thing

"Tonight I shall walk the earth and the stars themselves will hide" is actually such a fucking incredible line

"You listen to me. Jesse is dead. You have to remember that. When you see him, you're not looking at your friend: you're looking at the thing that killed him." Oof Giles, way to get the point across

"The earth is doomed." Oh Giles I love you so much

Episode 3: "Witch"

The fact that everyone else is like oh, yeah, she got set on fire, that's a totally normal thing that happens in this totally normal town!

Also that "Amy" told Buffy how abusive and cruel her mom was, and then we find out that they actually switched months ago and it was her mom all along, indicating that Mrs Madison knew exactly how horrible she was to her daughter and didn't care

Oh Amy was such a sweetheart before she was a literal rat

Episode 4: "Teacher's Pet"

I forgot how sweet that science teacher was 🥺

"Wasn't here, didn't see it, couldn't have stopped you" - one of my favourite lines of all time

"Frankly, madam, I haven't the faintest idea what time it is nor do I care, now unlock his cell, unstrap him, and bring him to the telephone immediately. This is a matter of life and death." Help why is Giles so funny??

I also forgot how campy the mantis lady looked, I can't take this seriously. I'm sorry Xander, I know you're in trouble but oh my god.

[thankstothe]

Cleaning pc is a whole experience

There's drama (cooling fan), tragedy (cooling fan), betrayal (cooling fan), suspense (cooling fan), came back wrong (cooling fan), not enough lube (cooling fan), there's only 4 holes (cooling fan), knot doesn't stay in (cooling fan), surprise villain (RAM)

[bi-writes]

I can imagine asking Ghost to take my daughter to the daddy-daughter ball, only not to be able to get rid of him once he brings her home.

"you what?"

you rest your forehead against your locker door, closing your eyes as you tune out the nonchalant voice on the other end of the phone.

he always cancels.

but this?

"y-you can't cancel," you say finally. "you have to go. you can't do this to her, are you fucking kidding me?" you put a hand to your forehead. "you're a fucking asshole. i-i bought her a dress. it's for fathers and daughters, i can't fucking take her. it's all she's been talking about, i can't believe you--!"

you kick your locker shut and take a seat, resting your elbows on your knees. he gives you another excuse, but you just blink away your angry tears.

"no. don't bother. in fact, i don't want to see you again. i don't want her to see you again."

you put the phone down, your hands trembling from how angry you are. you aren't even surprised that he's not calling you back.

he's never wanted her. never.

"sergeant."

the firm sound of your title immediately has you on your feet. you stand up straight, but you relax a little when you see it's just ghost. his head is tilted to the side, and he's watching you carefully from under his mask. you can't see his expression, but his eyes are intense. he's focused on you, very much so.

you wipe the few tears that are under your eyes, and then your phone pinging takes your attention away from him. you pick it up and curse under your breath, opening your locker again to grab your things.

"i'm sorry, lieutenant, i need to go. can i get back to you tomorrow?"

"it's pick-up time, isn't it?"

you freeze from putting your jacket on, eyeing him warily before zipping it up.

"yeah," you say finally. "and i have some bad news to deliver, so while i'd love to stay and chat, i really need to go."

"doesn't hafta be her father," simon shrugs, leaning up against the locker beside yours. "could be anyone."

you glare at him a little, "if you're trying to make some kind of crude joke about the lack of men in our lives, lieutenant, i'd be careful if i were you--"

you stop when he grips your chin tight between his gloved fingers. you blink, unsure of what to do, and he shakes your jaw a little.

"i could take 'er."

you frown up at him, too annoyed to notice how he bends a little more, his face nearly against yours.

"it's not funny, lieutenant."

"not laughin'."

"you..." you meet his eyes, deflating a little. "you...you'd...you'd do that for me?"

ghost merely clicks his tongue before letting you go. when you make your way to your car, he follows, and you try to hide your smile as you make your way home.

ghost exchanges his mask for something more discreet when you aren't looking. a black n95, but his eyes still kill the same. when you come back to the car with a little girl on your hip, she stares wide-eyed at the hunk of man sitting in the passenger seat. he raises a brow at her, saying nothing, and you swallow hard as you buckle her into her seat.

"uhm...this is ghost. can you say hi, honey?"

"ghost? like halloween?"

"like halloween, baby."

as you buckle yourself back in the drivers' seat, you side-eye ghost when you hear the crinkle of a plastic wrapper. when you peek into the rearview to reverse out of the parking lot, you see your daughter with a big smile on her face and a red lolly stuck in her mouth.

"always carrying around sweets, lieutenant?"

he shrugs. "maybe."

she makes him wait in the living room while you get her dress on (she wants a big reveal, coming down the stairs and all). you bought it off of etsy, a custom-made, princess-inspired dress. it has a big skirt of silk and tulle, with a big bow at her back, and when you look at her smile in the mirror, you feel that searing slice of something that makes you want to kill the man that almost ruined her evening.

she gets to do her big reveal. she spins at the top of the stairs to make her big skirt move, and then she's running down the stairs, giggling, laughing, and just as she makes it to ghost, he grabs her under her arms and tosses her into the air. she shrieks with delight when her big dress moves, and you bite your lip watching them. the sight of ghost hiking her up on his hip and commenting on her bow makes your mouth water.

fuck. have his arms always been that big?

they look funny. your daughter looks like the prettiest princess, and ghost looks exactly as he always does--like a SAS lieutenant. he might not have any of his gear on, but the cargo pants, thick boots, and windbreaker don't hide his physique.

"have fun, baby."

you come up next to her, kissing her face, and she clings to your superior, arms tangled around his neck as she waves goodbye. you give ghost the keys to your car, tell him to bring her back by seven, and then you pamper yourself while she's gone.

you drink a few glasses of wine. you take a hot bath. you pick a movie to watch and don't have to make sure the rating is at least PG.

when ghost finally comes back, you're laying on the couch with another glass of wine. pajamas on, blanket over your lap, and you smile when you see her passed out in ghost's arms as he closes the front door behind himself.

"asleep? already?" you giggle. ghost sets your keys down by the door before taking his boots off, and you watch intently as he carries your daughter up the stairs to put her to bed. you follow him, grabbing some of her pajamas from the drawer as he lays her down on the bed. you work together to get her little shoes off and shimmy her out of the dress, and as you get her into her clothes and back under the covers, she barely even moves. she's so tired, yawning and snuggling under her blankets, and you shut the door behind you, leaning against it as you blink up at your lieutenant.

he stares right back down at you. you reach a hand up and trace along the edge of his mask. it's quiet. inappropriate. he won't move away from you, and you won't move either.

you could get used to this. you could get used to watching more adult movies, drinking more wine, having time to fixed your chipped nail polish. you could get used to being bent over your unmade bed and fucked nasty.

you grab onto the crumpled sheets, arching your back more. your knees dig into the mattress as your ass hikes up, and ghost grunts as he uses your hips as an anchor and fucks into you harder. it's been ages since anyone's found your sweet spot, and ghost's cock is nudging it every single time his hips come back to meet yours. his thighs are nearly as fat as his cock, and you feel like your entire body is being rewired as he gives it to you so good, inside and out.

thumb against your clit, balls smacking your pussy, cock splitting you open--you used to think sex was made only for men, but maybe you just never found a real one to show you just how toe-curling it really could be.

if you thought it was good on your tummy, ghost shows you an entirely different feeling on your back.

it's so intimate. no one has ever looked at you this way before. his hands are intertwined with yours, and all you can do is cry and squeeze his hands as he sinks all the way inside of you and barely moves apart. in the dark, he takes his mask off, and you can feel the pant of his hot breaths as he grinds into you deep, slow, purposefully. the stimulation on your clit has your thighs shaking, and when you think the tears are too much, ghost flattens his tongue to lick them off before kissing you wet and languid.

ghost barely pulls out. he just circles his hips, punching back into you, and you see spots behind your eyes when he finally opens his mouth and groans into your ear. something about hearing his voice, hearing him falter, it makes you come. as soon as your cunt squeezes, ghost chokes, gripping your jaw tight and coming deep. you squirm underneath him, arching your back--he fills you up, so much so you can feel it spurting out around his cock and spilling out between your thighs.

you're too tired to protest when he sinks between your thighs after--you have to get clean somehow, right?

when you come into the kitchen in the morning, ghost is at the stove, your daughter on his hip and an egg frying in the pan.

he doesn't leave you when you take him back to work; and he doesn't leave you when you go back home. you should've known better, maybe. it's your own fault. ghosts like to haunt.

and this one is home.

[e-nonsense]

“Gonna fill you up, till you’re round with my baby.”

This prompt for Dick having baby fever with his fem!reader after seeing her taking good care of Damian (giving him praises and cookies for example).

Please and thank you!

pairing. dick grayson x reader

warning. smut

a/n. here you go anon

prompts used. “gonna fill you up, till you’re round with my baby.”

seeing you with damian was normal. the young boy saw you and dick as his paternal figures not that he’d admit it. but to see you doting over the boy. he’d ‘ran’ away from home — you’d already called bruce to tell him where damian is — and to your shared apartment.

first it started with the way you worried when he showed up at your door, a bag swung over his shoulder and his scowl set on his face.

“damian?” you stared down at the boy confused, looking around the hall way where all the other flats and the elevator could be seen.

“what’s wrong? are you okay?” your confusion switched to worry almost immediately when the boy hugged you, your arms moving around him to hug him back, gently rubbing his head.

“can i stay with you and grayson?” he mumbled.

“babe? who’s at the door—” dick’s voice trailed off when he saw damian holding onto you for dear life.

“what happened?” dick asks, the worry in his eyes matching yours.

“he needs to stay over tonight,” you murmur, glancing at dick with those puppy eyes of yours that he can’t say no to. he wanted to protest, remind you that tonight is his night off and date night but his heart flutters at the way damian clings to you like a boy would to his mother.

he doesn’t have the heart to say no, merely nodding. “sure baby, he can have the spare room.”

the next time he feels that same flutter of undistinguishable wanting is when you’re making damian late dinner for him, seeing as its midnight and you and dick were planning on a little fun tonight.

the way damian sits at the dining table, finishing his homework — because even if he’s staying here and his school is in gotham he’s still gotta keep up with school — and the way you make something quick that alfred taught you to make before sending damian off to bed.

he’s all over you after that, kissing at your neck, hands slipping under your shirt, you giggle before reminding him that his little brother is in the apartment so fun time is going to have to wait.

so he waits, a week before damian finally leaves, not that dick minds having his little brother around — lies. he does mind, he minds a lot, especially when your attention is being stolen from him.

but even that didn’t stop the way his heart fluttered with every moment you doted over like a mother would, and that’s when it clicked in his mind. he wanted a baby with you.

that’s how you got here. a week later after you’d dropped damian back to the manor, and when you came home you were talking to him about how you were concerned about damian overworking on patrols but he couldn’t hear a word over the hunger buzzing in his ears.

“mhm,” he hummed, head pressed into your neck as you rambled on. “baby, baby shhhh. lets forget about them for minute.”

“dick?” you mutter confused, his hands pressing warmly against your tummy.

“yes baby?” he asks.

“what’re you doing?” you ask.

“touching you, why? am i not allowed to touch my girl?” he replies, moving you towards the bedroom. “my pretty girl, yknow that?”

you hum in response, not sure what had come over him as he gently nudges you back onto the mattress to lay down. “i was thinking, honey. about you and me… and a little someone else.”

you catch the way his eyes drop to your stomach, his pupils blown out so much that his pretty blue eyes look different. “and who’s that?” you ask, urging him on.

“our baby.”

now that does surprise you, you and dick have never talked about having kids together, you’ve barely even talked about marriage but you know enough that he seems to like the idea of both those scenarios.

“our baby?” you question and he nods, a wide smile setting on his lips as he stares down at you hungrily.

“you’d look so pretty, honey. all round and full, full of me, of us. i’d take such good care of you too.”

your cheeks flush at the way he stares at you and the way the compliments leave his lips, like pure honey.

it doesn’t take much longer till you’re both completely bare, with you all spread out under him all fucked out as he ruts against you from behind.

he wasn’t shy with his noises, whining into your ear and groaning too. whispering praises that make you purr. “aw, look at you baby, all fucked and pretty for me to use. you want me to fill you up that bad huh?”

you nod eagerly, stomach fluttering as you spasm around him, face pressed into the pillows to bury your moaning, back arched so prettily it makes him want to never stop.

“good girl, my good girl. you like the sound of being a mommy huh?” he coos, fucking into you with no mercy, mind set of giving you a baby. a part of the two of you to love.

“that’s good ‘cause i’m gonna fill you up, till you’re round with my baby.”

© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off

[osaemu]

JJK MEN: BABY, CAN YOU CALL ME BACK?

✩ ‧ ˚. [ GOJO, TOJI, GETO ] your boyfriend's gone for work, and you gotta convince him to come back home over the phone... NSFW

contents: fem!reader. phone sex, voice kink, video taking, dick pics, blah blah blah. you can probably guess the rest. not proofread + mostly written while i was half-asleep. 2.3k words.

★ ━ SATORU GOJO

“baby, i miss you,” satoru mumbles, voice soft and sleepy from the other end of the phone. you hear the sound of sheets rustling against his phone’s microphone as he rolls over, groaning softly. “i can’t wait to come home to you.”

you plop down on your bed and turn your phone on speaker as you rest your back against the headboard, stifling a yawn before you reply. “me too… it’s so lonely without you here.”

“i know,” satoru says, and even though it’s not a video call, you’re absolutely certain he’s grinning like the cocky idiot he is. “tell me ‘bout your day, sweetheart. wanna know what you’ve been doing without me.”

you roll your eyes and smile, checking your nails as you reply. “nothing much, it’s kinda boring without you here.”

“tell me more,” satoru murmurs, and he thinks that he’s so lucky you two aren’t on a facetime call, because his hand is slipping down to the waistband of his pants and he’s tugging them off, releasing his already-hardened dick. “i wanna know everything.”

you don’t think much of the way satoru’s breathing has gotten noticeably choppier as you ramble about the little things that’ve happened in your day so far—after all, how could you know that he’s stroking himself to the sound of your voice?

“so, yeah, that’s basically everything,” you finish, exhaling softly. the moment you stop talking, you hear the soft groans that satoru’s been fighting to hide the whole time, and suddenly, it clicks. “wait, satoru, have you been fucking yourself the whole ti—”

“maybe,” your boyfriend replies instantly, pausing and taking a long, unsteady breath before he continues, “wanna join me?” you don’t reply immediately, but soon, his voice turns pleading. “c’mon, baby, missin’ you so much… lemme hear you, sweet girl. help your boyfriend out, pleeea—” 

“okay, okay,” you give in, reaching down and tugging off your shorts. a second later, your panties are discarded as well, and your fingers start to circle your clit at the sound of satoru’s voice.

“mm, you touching yourself, baby?” satoru breathes, hand still wrapped around his dick. you hum in agreement, and the hand holding your phone grows tighter the faster your circles get. satoru clicks his tongue after a couple seconds, and adds, “don’t hold back, i wanna hear you.”

“okay,” you mumble, missing his familiar touch now more than ever. “i miss you so much, ‘toru,” you whisper, voice already a little shaky from your own fingers. but it still isn’t enough to push you over the edge—you both know that only satoru has the skill to do that.

“i know you do,” satoru teases, an amused lilt in his voice. “bet those pretty hands of yours couldn’t make ya cum half as fast as i could, yeah?”

he’s right, but it doesn’t stop you from trying—god, you wish your boyfriend were here and inside of you, but for now, his voice is all that you have. “baby, these past couple days, all i could—fuck, all i could think about was that pretty pussy of yours,” satoru chokes out, hand moving up and down the length of his dick faster. “so tight f’me, all just for me,” he mumbles, throwing his head back and gritting his teeth.

“s-satoru, i need you,” you mewl out, legs starting to tremble just at the thought of him. “need your dick inside of me, plea—”

“can’t do that, princess,” satoru sighs, groaning at the sound of your desperate request. “wish i could, though.. but we gotta wait for a couple days, fuck.”

you stop rubbing your clit and instead slip two fingers inside your cunt, wrist shaking at you pump your fingers up and down at his request. “s’ not as good as you, ‘toru,” you whine, hips unconsciously rocking against your hand. “come home soon, please, can’t wait for that long—”

satoru laughs breathily and moans shamelessly into his phone, mumbling something about work or a mission or something—but you don’t really catch the details, too occupied with fucking yourself to the thought of your boyfriend. “so impatient, aren’t ya?” satoru exhales, thrusting into his own fist and fantasizing about your warm, tight cunt instead. “fuck, baby, miss you and your cunt so fuckin’ bad—”

“then come home, ‘toru,” you plead, hardly able to choke out your words coherently. “please, satoru, i need you here—”

your boyfriend cuts you off with a series of porn-worthy groans, mixing in your name wherever he can as he cums into his hand. it’s not satisfying, and it doesn’t feel half as good as it would if he were fucking your pussy instead. so, after a couple seconds, he mumbles, “whatever you say, princess, i’ll be there by tomorrow.” 

★ ━ TOJI FUSHIGURO

“you’re an asshole,” you mutter into your phone. toji only scoffs in reply, a disbelieving edge to his voice. “toji, listen to me—”

“i’m listenin’, princess,” toji grumbles. “yeah, i know i said i’d be home by tonight, but somethin’ came up. s’ not my fault i’m surrounded by idiots.” and he makes no effort of hiding his disdain at your stubbornness—some things were just out of his control, including how long it took for most of his missions to get completed.

“don’t call me that,” you snap, climbing into your bed and pulling a pillow onto your lap. toji sighs, and it’s a long, lengthy exhale that surely has to be exaggerated. “fuck you, toji, you promised you’d be home by tonight.” 

your boyfriend laughs incredulously into his phone, chortling for a good twenty seconds before he replies, “i don’t remember promising anything, n’ what do ya need me home for anyways? what’s so fuckin’ important, huh?”

well, there’s no way you’re telling him the real reason you want him home so badly—he’d just laugh at you and your desperation for him. but honestly, after going for more than a week without his dick, you’re really fucking close to telling him that. instead, you reply, “maybe i just miss my boyfriend.”

“more like you just want dick, don’t ya, pretty?”

toji sees right through your pitiful lies—he always does. you don’t respond for a long while, and your boyfriend fills up the silence by laughing again. “shoulda just said so. i missed fuckin’ that tight cunt of yours too, idiot.”

“so will you come home now?”

“mm, you gotta convince me.”

“how?” you groan, dragging a hand down your face. 

“show me jus’ how much you miss me, and maybe i’ll consider comin’ back early if you can prove it to me,” toji says, and you can hear the smile in his voice as your screen lights up with a request to facetime. 

you accept, and a second later, your boyfriend’s face fills up your screen. his dark eyes are squinted from the sudden light, but the corners of his lips curl upwards when he sees you. “hey, princess.”

“hey, asshole.”

“you want to get fucked tomorrow night or not?” he drawls, a lazy smile playing on his face when that shuts you up. “now c’mon, let’s see that pussy. open wide f’me.”

you mutter something about him being the worst boyfriend ever before you tug down the waistband of your panties, exposing your neglected, puffy cunt. your clothes are quickly discarded somewhere, allowing you to angle your phone downwards and show toji what he’s missing.

“oh, fuckin’ hell,” toji mutters, navy eyes fixed on your cunt as you slip two fingers inside and start pumping them in and out of your hole. the dim lighting of your room bounces off the slick already coating your cunt, making it look wetter than ever to toji—and you can practically see the longing in his eyes as he watches you fuck yourself.

“please, toji,” you mumble, spreading your legs even wider to show off your pussy to him. “miss you so much, please—fuck, please come home,” you plead, doing your best to put on a show for him. at this point, you’re so touch starved that you’d do anything to get him back—anything to satisfy you, since your own fingers can’t even give you half the pleasure toji can.

“so desperate, aren’t ya?” toji tuts, eying you with interest. “tch, pathetic…”

you whine in response to his words, hips rolling against your own hand as you futilely try to convince your head that it’s a dick in between your legs and not your own fingers. “fuck, toji, i’ll do anythin—”

“anything?” he instantly cuts you off, cocking an eyebrow as if he’s intrigued. you nod desperately, almost willing to do anything and everything for him if it meant he could fill up the empty spot in between your thighs. “you promise?”

“y-yeah, anything,” you whimper, throwing your head back as your hand starts to grow sore. 

toji hums in approval, and a moment later, he replies, “alright then. i’ll head back tomorrow mornin’, but you’re getting fucked for the whole night after. n’ i don’t wanna hear any of that ‘toji, it’s too much!’ bullshit, m’kay?” he snaps, mimicking your voice by raising his pitch two octaves. 

“okay, i promise,” you choke out, and the second the words leave your lips, toji hangs up.

asshole.

★ ━ SUGURU GETO

“suguru, i miss you,” you mumble into your phone, burying your face into the blankets wrapped around your shoulders. usually, it’s rare for you to feel cold within your bedroom—suguru’s presence seems to make everything warmer. but right now, he’s not here, and even your own room feels barren without his comforting aura. “it’s so empty here without you…” 

“is it, now?” suguru replies coyly from the other end of the call. he’s at some sort of meeting right now, but apparently, he’s on his break—which is good, because you imagine that it might be a little embarrassing for him to take this call if he were in the middle of the meeting. “i miss you too, baby. you and that pretty pussy of yours, heh.”

“sugu—”

your boyfriend interrupts you with a soft, teasing laugh, lowering his voice when he adds, “do you want to know what i’d do to you if i was with you right now?”

you swallow back the “yes” you so desperately want to say, instead whispering, “aren’t you in public?”

“nah, i’m in the bathroom right now,” suguru clarifies. “now c’mon, answer the question.”

“...yeah,” you admit. it’s been over a week since you last had any sort of sexual contact with suguru—you’ll take what you can get.

your boyfriend laughs again, sultry voice pouring out your phone’s speakers and straight into your throbbing cunt when he starts describing—in great detail—the things he would do to you if he was on top of you right now.

“...and then, i would flip you over and fuck you face-down ass-up for hours,” suguru adds casually, enjoying the sounds of your muffled moans—you’re trying so hard to hide them, but little do you know that it’s only too obvious to suguru. 

two of your fingers are circling your clit as suguru speaks, and your own hand is clasped over your mouth as you struggle to hide the effects of suguru’s voice on you—and he just keeps talking.

“yeah, and when i finally let you cum all over my dick, i’d just keep going,” suguru cooes, tempted to pull down his pants and take care of his own boner right then and there. but unlike you, your boyfriend has some ounce of resilience, and as he checks the time on his phone, he realizes that he has to get back to his meeting soon anyways.

“suguru—” you moan, unable to stifle your little whimpers any longer. “wan’ you so bad, please—”

“silly girl, what do you mean, you want me so bad?” suguru says amusedly. “i’m already yours, aren’t i?”

“you know what i mean,” you huff, rocking your hips against your fingers in an attempt to force yourself to cum. but unfortunately, ever since you started fucking with suguru, your own fingers aren’t good enough—even if you could hypothetically make yourself orgasm, it wouldn’t give you even a fraction of the pleasure your boyfriend could. “please, sugu, i wanna see you.”

and just like that, any remaining self-restraint suguru has snaps—the sound of you begging is enough to make him do anything in the world.

suguru hastily unzips his pants, releasing his dripping dick. he runs his thumb over the leaking tip, smearing the pre-cum all over its head. “fuck, baby, i’m at work right now,” he mutters into his phone, rolling his eyes affectionately when he hears you giggle. “one pic. then i’m going back to my meeting.”

“m’kay!” you agree, pulling the phone away from your ear and turning it on speaker as you eagerly wait for the pictures to send.

suguru holds up his phone and snaps a picture of his dick resting in his palm, stroking it with that hand and sending you the image with the other. “alright, sweetheart, gotta get back to work,” suguru sighs, unable to get his boner to settle down—he figures the only way it’ll happen is if he ends the call, which he really needs to do.

“aw, do you have to?”

“yeah, sorry ‘bout that,” he mutters, removing the phone from his ear to end the call.

“wait, what’re you sending me—oh, fuck, you’re the worst,” suguru groans when he clicks the notification and sees a video of what you’re doing to yourself right now—it’s a five second video of you pumping your fingers in and out of your puffy cunt to his voice, and there goes his resolve to stay at work.

“i fuckin’ hate you, baby… see you in a couple hours.”

[evie-sturns]

suit - Chris Sturniolo

summary: Chris has a wedding he has to get to, but he just looks too good in his suit that you just need to take him before he leaves.

contains: smut, soft dom!chris, stomach bulge, fluff, quick sex, bathroom sex.

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

5:47pm

chris walks into the living room with a giddy smile on his face, adjusting his tie as he gives you a little spin.

"wooww, somebody looks dapper!" you grin teasingly, standing up off the couch and walking over to him.

he laughs, "matt had to help me tie this stupid thing." he scoffs, adjusting the black silk tie around his neck.

"you look so good though! i didn't know you even owned a damn suit." i giggle, adjusting the fabric around his shoulders.

"thank you thank you." he smiles, giving you a stupid wink as he tries to act proper.

"when do you have to head off?" i ask, my tone slightly quieter now as i drag my nails down his blazer, the fabric loosely hanging over his waist.

"like, 12 minutes." he says, checking his phone,

i give him a small smirk, the room going quiet.

he stares at me in silence, his arms folded over his chest.

"what do you want?" he asks, chuckling softly as i just continue to smile up at him.

"mmm, you knoww.." i shrug,

i can see it click in brain what i really want, how couldn't i? he just looks so good in his suit.

"when i'm home yeah? we don't have enough time." he whispers, pecking a kiss to my lips.

i shake my head, crossing my leg as i clench my thighs together, trying to soothe the ever-growing ache between my legs.

"please chris, i need it now." i whisper, staring up at him through my lashes with my big round eyes.

"i cant- matt and nick are waiting for me.." chris says, scratching the nape of his neck.

"just- just come." i whisper, grabbing his hand.

i silently pull him down the hallway to the bathroom, opening the door quietly before locking it.

"baby- seriously.." he whispers, hes trying to deny it, but i can see the hunger in his eyes as his eyes travel down my body, looking at the tight tanktop which hugs my curves just perfectly.

i drop down to my knees, fiddling with his belt buckle as i gently slide it off.

"please chris..?" i smile up at him, my tongue darting out to lick my lips.

"fine.. fine- we gotta be real quick though." he sighs,

my grin only grows as i unbutton his pants and slide them down his legs,

he's left standing in his black calvin klein boxers, an obvious tent forming.

i tug them down his legs aswell, his semi-hard erection springing out.

i take him in my hand, my fingers barely able to close around his girth,

he shakes his head, grabbing my hand and pulling me up off my knees.

"don't have enough time for that baby." he whispers, his voice hoarse and croaky.

he lifts me up and sits me on the counter, his hands instantly going for the waistband of my shorts and tugging them off.

he tuts, "no panties f'me?" he grins,

my cheeks heat up as i nod, "sorry.."

"'nah, don't gotta apologise for that sweetheart." he mutters, dragging a finger through my folds.

i let out a sharp gasp,

on a normal day, chris would tease me until im on the verge of tears, but today, he has to be quick.

"gonna be real quiet for me?" he asks softly, positioning his tip with my leaking hole.

i nod frantically, "yes- yes chris, promise." i mumble,

he suddenly slams his cock into me, i feel every single inch enter me at an ungodly pace.

he doesn't waste time to start thrusting, hard.

despite my earlier promise about being quiet, its pratically impossible now, i let out loud moans. his tip is abusing my cervix, his cock showing through my belly.

"oh baby, feel me right there?" he whispers, dragging his cold fingers over my tummy.

i nod with a strangled cross between a whine and a moan,

chris instantly shoves two fingers in my mouth.

thats hot.

my moans are muffled and almost silenced by his long fingers resting on my tongue, i close my eyes as i grip the counter top for dear life, the force of his thrusts nearly making me shift off.

"hurry up baby, gotta cum for me." he mutters under his breath, shifting his spare hand down to my clit,

he rubs quick circles on my clit, i feel my whole abdomen tightening as my orgasm rapidly approaches.

my head falls forward onto chris's shoulder, biting down on the fabric in a weak attempt to silence myself.

"good girll.. so good." he whispers into my ear,

i finally tip over the edge, my stomach dropping as i clench around his cock, i bite down on his shoulder hard as i orgasm, hard.

he thrusts into me a few more times before burying his cock deep, his release spilling out inside of me.

he quickly slides out of me, both of us panting as we lock eyes.

his cheeks are now flushed and his hair is messy, but he still looks somewhat presentable.

"you- you okay?" he asks, dragging his middle finger through my folds and pushing his cum back inside of me.

i gasp with a nod,

he reaches down and checks his phone,

"shit baby, matt and nick are waiting for me in the car, i gotta go." he mumbles, tugging up his boxers and suit pants, fastening the belt around his hips.

i let out a small groan in response,

"im sorry sweetie- dont wanna have to leave you here all messy but i literally cannot be any more late." he sighs, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

he goes to turn away but i stop him.

"wait-" i giggle,

he turns back to look at me,

i call him over as i stare at his shoulder,

his blazer shoulder his completely damp from my pathetic attempts to muffle them on it,

i reach out and wipe the fabric free of my spit, "sorry." i grin

chris laughs, "you're good, it was better than you screaming out into the house and alerting matt and nick that im indeed not taking a shit."

i giggle loudly, "youre grossss."

"youre gross!! you've got my 'fuckin cum leaking down your legs."

------

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[machveil]

for the domestic whores, I’ve got you. Simon Riley x SingleParent!Reader🎀✨

Simon Riley who comes home from a deployment, headache throbbing behind his eyes as he jams his key into his flat’s doorknob. he’s absolutely exhausted, limbs heavy and chest a little tight with stress. he doesn’t even manage to kick off his boots before he’s falling back onto his couch, running a rough hand down his face as he sighs. everything is fine. a beer or three and some god awful realty show to turn his brain off always manages to make him pass out. yeah, a smoke or two and he can drift off, eyelids already droopy with sleep. then the crying starts

a slow glance to his left, fingers twitching slightly. there wasn’t a neighbor there before he left, and now some infant is screaming it’s bloody head off. it’ll stop soon. it’ll stop and Simon can fall into the pattern he’s set for himself. it’ll stop. it’s just a baby, someone’s got to make it stop. “No, no, no— it’s okay! Ssh, oh, honey—”, a muffled voice crooning through his walls, were the walls to his flat always so thin? a hiccupy wail cries out, sobs shortly following, “Sweetheart, look— it’s teddy! You love teddy.”, louder cries echoing through the air. maybe they don’t love teddy. with a groan, Simon stands up. today’s not the day for this, and he hates being that neighbor, but he needs peace and quiet

not even a minute later and he’s stepping down the hall, three quick knocks ringing out on his neighbors door. a deep breath leaves him as the crying continues, eyebrows raising slightly as the sound gets louder, the soft pad of walking overshadowed. there’s a soft click before the door opens and— Simon’s never seen you before. hair a little messy, faint eyebags, and a chunky little baby wailing on your hip. there’s a pause as you look up at him, and, god, there’s a lot to look at. a disposable medical mask he never took off, dressed nearly all in black, and looming past your doorframe. “Tha’s got to stop.”, short and curt, voice deep and rumbly

it’s only after he speaks does the little menace on your hip pipe down, bleary eyes blinking as they look up at the solider. glancing down at the baby, a soft little gurgle and grabby hands catch his eyes. delighted little noises as they reach their tiny arms out for him, “How’d you do that?”, you ask. your wide eyed expression makes him scoff, “What?”, happy little giggles reach Simon’s ears. “Say something else—”, you plead softly, readjusting your hold to cradle the baby, “They keep crying and I don’t know what to do— I’m sorry, but I’ve never seen them stop like that.”, you sound so tired, drained as you sway back and forth slightly. say something else. “‘M Simon.”

[ramonathinks]

tiny repost <3 18+, mdni

cw: smut mention

simon joined the military right after he lost his wife and daughter, he figured he could numb his pain better this way, take out his pain in the field. his eyes still never lit up like they did all those years ago. but it was the small things that made it better. he would always love his wife and his daughter. but he knew he had to move on at some point.

when he returned with no one holding any signs for him and nothing but a taxi to get him home, watching his friends hug on to wives, children, parents and all… he realized how lonely he was. he just needed someone to hold for a few days when he was here.

he didn’t exactly go looking for you. but with one click on a website and a few scrolls down, he eventually came across your profile.

you wanted to co-parent a child, needed a sperm donor and had a lot of good qualities from what he could tell. it was a way for him to finally fulfill his paternal instincts and to cope. it was probably the unhealthiest thing but he knew he couldn’t replace his daughter nor his wife, but this was a better thing.

he wanted to do it the natural way. he didn’t believe in any other methods. he wanted to be inside of you, to feel you milk him down and clench around him. he wanted to watch your face contort into pleasure and to hear those pretty precious sounds. he wanted to make a baby not just leave you with a bottle of his sperm, he wanted to fuck a baby into you and to put his hand on you belly so that he can feel himself filling you up. he wanted to see lots of it spilling out of you and to use his thick fingers to fuck it back inside of you.

and he wanted to do it as many times as he could before he was called back out, he wanted to come back and to see your belly swelled and to hold you in the night.

[sttoru]

pls pls pls 🥹 older bf! gojo fucking the attitude out of his gf

 𝝑𝑒 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. satoru picks you up after your lecture to spend quality time with you, only to realise you got an attitude that needs some fixing.

tags. dom older bf!gojo x female reader. smut, pwp but also with plot. age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). rough. hints of degradation. p in v -> unprotected. standing doggy. semi-public. spanking. hair pulling. name calling. creampīe. nicknames ‘princess, baby’. wc: 3.2k

“mind telling me who that was, baby?” satoru asks while he fixes his sunglasses. he pushes his hair back a little, walking beside you through campus. you had just finished your study session with a boy who’s in your statistics class. your lovely boyfriend offered to pick you up and take you back home after that.

though, despite the kind gesture, you’re still visibly stressed after revising the material. your mind is occupied with all sorts of stuff you need to know before your exam on thursday.

“just a classmate,” you respond curtly, not even looking at satoru. you’re speeding ahead of him, wanting to rush home already. you nibble on your bottom lip and your brows are furrowed due to the distress, “why do you care?”

that sentence came out harsher than you had expected it to. you don’t mean to be bitchy, but you’re under too much stress at the moment. your body reacts before you can withstand it.

satoru is silent for a few seconds. he’s surprised by the tone of voice you used. he keeps on following you, however, not letting your little comment ruin the conversation. he’s there to help you, not to make you even more upset.

which is why he tries to lighten the mood.

“oh?” satoru chuckles, his dimples showing. he easily keeps up with you, his long legs carrying him around quite fast. the white haired man pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear ever so gently, “did someone upset my little princess today?”

you don’t answer him. you’re focused on your phone, hurriedly texting your friend back while speeding past all the other students. you don’t even notice how the girls are gawking at your man—whispering about how handsome he is and who he might be.

satoru doesn’t pay them any mind. his sole goal is to gain your attention back. he frowns after his question is met with silence. the clicking of his dress shoes increases as he tries to get you to stop and face him.

“c’mon,” your boyfriend sighs and stands in front of you, stopping you to an abrupt halt. he holds your wrist tenderly yet firmly, letting you know that he wants to properly communicate with you, “y’ can’t ignore me.”

you yank your hand back, your irritated attitude visible in your actions. you look up at satoru, not caring about what he thinks or wants at the moment. you just want to go home and relax. everything is overstimulating you.

“i can and i will,” you huff before stepping aside to continue your journey out of the university’s terrain. your boyfriend’s frown only deepens. you’re not the only one who’s currently getting agitated. you push past a group of students who stood in your way, “let’s just go home.”

satoru’s eyes narrow. he doesn’t get upset fast—he rarely feels any kind of anger—but right now he can feel something itching inside of his chest. he’s tried not to let the jealousy get the best of him at first, but now with all the other emotions coming into play, it’s nearly impossible to hold himself back.

satoru considers himself a fairly mature man. he’s always been one, yet when it comes to you he can’t help but feel like he doesn’t have any control over his emotions. his body and mind act on their own.

“aht aht. not so fast, little lady.”

you suddenly feel yourself being dragged to the side. satoru’s grip around your arm isn’t harsh, but it sure is enough to make you stumble along with him. you click your teeth in slight annoyance after the initial shock settles in. you know there’s no fighting it; you don’t want others to witness your little squabble.

“hey, where are we going?” you ask, a slight whine leaving your throat. you simply want to go lay in your bed and avoid everything and everyone else. your eyes are focused on the back of satoru’s head as he guides you along. he doesn’t bother to face nor answer you.

you sigh and simply allow yourself to be dragged away. if you’re going to get a scolding, you don’t mind. you’re just going to hear him out and nod along so you can go back home faster.

you raise an eyebrow when satoru arrives at the bathroom on the second floor. “what the—” you’re confused as to what your boyfriend is trying to achieve. you quickly look around to see if anyone has seen you.

no one seems to be close. this part of the building has always been empty around this time frame anyway.

you’re pulled into the men’s bathroom after satoru made sure that the coast was clear. he gently pushes you into an empty stall and locks the door. “satoru, what’s up with you?” you sigh as you stumble back against the bathroom wall. it’s a hypocritical comment considering your own nasty attitude.

you try to push him aside, only for your boyfriend to force your arms around his neck, pulling you flush against him. your eyes lock into his and that’s when you notice how . . dark they are. the usual playful look is nowhere to be found.

“i’m just thinkin’ that y’r attitude needs some fixing, hm?” satoru whispers. a ghost of a smirk appears on his face—it’s a twisted one. wicked, with the thoughts of what he’ll do to punish you for your actions. he rarely has that expression when he’s with you.

he tips your chin up with quite some force, “i can help with that.”

everything else happens at a blink of an eye. one of satoru’s large hands slithers up your back to tangle in your hair and yank it back, exposing the column of your throat for his hickeys to take shape on. his other hand swiftly makes work of your pants and undergarments.

his jaw is clenched—the usual hint of gentle love in his eyes is replaced by lust fuelled by jealousy and frustration. satoru is not playing around either. instead of taking his time like he usually does when it comes to intimacy, he’s quick to discard both your clothing.

“fuckin’ tease,” the white-haired man mutters under his breath, panting with desire. he zips down his pants and frees his big cock from his boxers. “always pushing my buttons. isn’t that right, baby?”

satoru lets out a breathy, mocking chuckle. he fists the shaft slowly while his blue eyes roam over your body caged against him and the wall, “but i guess tha’s part of the reason why i love you—hah.”

you’re basically in shock at the sudden switch. your jaw is slack and your eyes are wide, but there’s an undeniable feeling in your chest that tells you you’re loving this change. you can’t deny the fact that you’re turned on. extremely turned on.

“‘toru, i don’t think it’s smart to do this here,” you murmur in a small voice. you’re trying to have some dignity, even now, when your panties are soaked and the scent of your obvious arousal is driving your man crazy.

“don’t care,” satoru shakes his head with a smug grin. his long fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear before flimsily tugging them down to your ankles. his eyes darken the second he sees the webs of sticky, translucent slick clinging from your panties to your puffy folds.

he grunts, his cock twitching painfully in his hand. he’s thinking of simply jerking off to the sight of you in front of him, but he decided otherwise. satoru smacks your clit with his fat tip, “should’ve thought about that before catchin’ an attitude with me.”

suddenly, he turns you around so you’re facing the wall. your nails dig into the flat surface of the tiles, catching onto nothing. you’re hoping that no one will walk into the bathroom. last thing you need is everyone knowing that you were getting your back blown out by your boyfriend on campus.

not that satoru would mind those rumors. it’d only fuel his (already) huge ego.

“oh, yeah— shit. you need this ‘s much as i do,” satoru groans as sinks his cock into your pussy, agonisingly slow, inch by inch. you shudder and hold in your moans as your velvety walls make part for him.

his hands spread your pert asscheeks, smacking the full globes before kneading them to soothe the pain. he continues in a low, dangerous voice, “you wouldn’t be so stuck up if y’ didn’t need this fuckin’ dick to shut you up.”

satoru doesn’t stop pushing in until his heavy balls are resting snugly against your bottom, warming his sack full of cum that’s aching to be released in your dripping cunt.

“ngh, ‘toru,” you bite your lip and try not to orgasm just from the feeling of being full— so full of cock that it makes you see stars, “just like that.”

the white-haired man responds with a satisfied grunt, sweat forming on his forehead from how hot and wet it is inside of you.

“oh, there she is,” satoru coos once he hears your whiny voice, that sweet voice he cherishes and loves. it isn’t cold nor avoidant anymore like before and that’s really all he wanted to acquire. he licks a stripe from the tip of your ear to the lobe, voice husky, “there’s the girlfriend i know. moan some more f’ me.”

you shiver as satoru’s lips connect with the back of your neck. after wetting the skin with his saliva, he bites. not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to leave a mark. you clamp around his dick in response and he curses under his breath.

“please, fuck me,” you breathe. you need more stimulation, need him to absolutely ruin you. the shallow and slow thrusts he’s giving are nothing but torturous.

satoru grins and rests his chin on top of your shoulder, large hands rubbing around your hips and lower abdomen, teasing your clit every now and then to get you even more pent up.

“fuck you?” he tilts his head, as if contemplating. he clicks his tongue and gives your ass a firm slap that nearly sends you over the edge. “hah, you should be grateful for what i’m givin’ you.”

but satoru’s weak for you. even if he’s trying to be the ‘mean’ and ‘cold’ dominant guy. his cock is aching to plunge in and out of your wet hole, to see you come undone and feel your juices coat his balls and thighs.

“fine. i’ll fuck you,” satoru relents with a roll of his eyes, acting like he isn’t desperate for you too. he grips your hips in a bruising manner and bites your shoulder, “—fuck you like the brat you are.”

your hands save your face from making contact with the wall as your body suddenly jostles back and forth in a speed you can’t even process.

“satoru!” you nearly scream his name out of pure surprise. the pleasure comes crashing down in waves, your pussy uncontrollably spasming around his girthy cock.

satoru grumbles something incoherent as he pistons his hips, ramming in your sloppy cunt while his eyes are fixated on your bouncing ass. white locks of hair stick to his forehead as he splits you open on his dick.

“so pretty,” the older man sighs. he turns your head sideways so you can look him in the eyes while he fucks you silly. he caresses your cheek gently, a contrast to the mocking grin on his lips and the rough thrusts against your ass, “too bad y’ got such a potty mouth on you.”

satoru pushes his index and middle finger between your lips to muffle your noises, “…but don’t worry, i’ll fix that for you. gladly.”

you eagerly suck on them between quick gasps of air, saliva trickling down his hand. your boyfriend redoubles his efforts, the fat tip of his dick hitting that special spot deep inside you.

his free hand reaches down to circle your clit. the double stimulation sends you into a state of pure bliss. your pupils are dilated as you struggle to find satoru’s gaze, head lolling back and forth with each powerful stroke.

perhaps this really was all you needed to help destress and forget all about your responsibilities. it feels good to not think about anything at all— your head empty except for the feeling of your cunt being filled.

satoru’s cock twitches inside of you with the urge to release a load in your womb. “give me it, please,” your voice is muffled as you plead with him. your hand sneaks downwards, trying to find his balls, “w-want your cum.”

your fingers toy with his sack once you find it. his pre-cum and your own juices now coat your skin as well, your hand enclosing around his balls, massaging them. it’s like you’re trying to coax his potent semen out of them and that alone makes satoru throw his head back in ecstasy.

“little cumslut. . .” satoru growls, brows furrowing as he tries not to shoot his cum inside of your greedy cunt right that second. the hand that was keeping you quiet quickly snatches your wrist and pins it against the bathroom wall.

“are you that desperate to get filled? yeah?” your boyfriend huffs, not stopping to catch his breath at all. his hips pound faster against your ass with renewed passion.

your lips are parted and they move, but not a single answer comes out of your mouth. you’re unable to think or talk because of the pleasure.

satoru takes that as a yes. the erotic sight of you being so lost in sin is enough to fuel his desire to fuck you harder. his hips never falter as he scoffs at your pathetic self, “tch, so addicted to my cock y’ can’t even answer me.”

you shake your head and search for your words. however, you fail, and all that you’re capable of communicating is what you need, “fuuuuck, yes i am—‘toru, need your cock ‘n cum— more.”

satoru lets go of your wrist to grab your jaw. he forces your head back again before he captures your lips in a bruising kiss. his tongue plunders inside your mouth, exploring every inch.

he pulls back to gasp for air and releases your jaw with a slight shove to grab your hips again. “more? hah,” the white-haired man lets out a haughty chuckle. he gives a particular hard thrust against your butt, tip kissing your cervix painfully yet deliciously, “y’ think you deserve more after that shit you pulled?”

satoru yanks your head back by your hair. the stinging sensation makes your scalp itchy, but it also increases your pleasure. he lowers his lips to your ear, his voice dangerously low, “nah, you gotta make this work.”

you could. you can make it work and that’s the truth. he could fuck you with just his tip and you’d be able to cum a couple times in a row.

jolts of pleasure run down your spine as satoru drives into you harder, the force of his thrusts rocking your entire body. you’re seeing stars and the words roll off your tongue, “please, mhh, almost there!”

satoru groans. he can feel the delicious fluttering of your cunt around his cock, the telltale signs of an orgasm building. he has half a mind to pull out completely and let you writhe and beg him some more.

he contemplates it for a few seconds. the second your eyes start to roll back, signaling your impending climax, his cock slips out of your pussy. you whine and push your hips back in search for his dick- to fill the void he left.

satoru jerks himself off at the pitiful sight. he rubs his veiny shaft between your slick folds before slapping the tip against your cunt, letting it catch onto your entrance for a few times.

“begging like that isn’t going to get you anywhere. y’ can do better,” your boyfriend encourages in a sultry tone. one of his hands rest on your tummy, fingers splaying over your clothed skin. another filthy smack of his tip against your slit makes you shiver, “come on.”

you bite your lip out of frustration. you arch your back each time the fat head of his cock catches onto your gaping hole, hoping to slip it in, but you can't. you tilt your head back and lock eyes with satoru close up behind you.

“please let me cum, 'toru. i'll be good, i promise,” you beg with a lewd pleading expression. one that make satoru's balls tighten with the urge to cum as well.

with a low groan, satoru snaps his hips forward, burying his dick inside of you once more, “there ya go. good girl, knew y’ had it in you.”

the praise and familiar feeling of his dick stretching you open is enough to push you over the edge. you nearly black out as your cunt spasms around him, your juices gushing out to coat his length and balls.

satoru grits his teeth once he feels your tight cunt clench viciously around his throbbing cock. your orgasm has a domino effect on your lover, causing him to hastily chase his own release. “shit! take it, princess. take it all inside this greedy fuckin' cunt,” he hisses and grinds his pelvis against the fat of your ass.

satoru buries himself to the hilt before his cock jerks and pulses, emptying his balls deep inside of you. his fingers dig into the meat of your butt, holding you in place as he grinds against you, making sure every last drop of his seed is nestled into your waiting womb.

“there y’ go, mhm—taking my load so deep,” your lover sighs and lowers his head, resting against your back. he hugs you tightly to his chest while you both catch your breath. he rides out his orgasm slowly, still grinding against you while he leaves lazy kisses on your nape.

a minute passes before you've regained your composure, somewhat. you smile as satoru kisses your temple lovingly, praising you for taking him so well. the switch back to his usual gentleman personality is much needed after such an intense moment.

“thank you, babe. i needed that,” you giggle as you rest back against his chest. thick, pearly globs of cum escape your pussy, dripping around his cock and onto your thighs, but neither of you could care less. the clean up is a problem for later.

satoru chuckles back at you as he leaves another loving kiss against your cheek. “i knew you did,” he murmurs and pets your head, “my poor girl has been working so hard on her assignments, hm? poor, poor baby.”

you playfully roll your eyes at the overexaggerated concern in your lover's voice, however you appreciate it.

satoru doesn't bother to pull out. first things first; he needs to get you all comfortable again and give you the aftercare you deserve. his hands massage your hips as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, acting all lovey-dovey like he hasn't just shown you a more dominant side of him.

“how ‘bout we go home and order some food? we can cuddle and watch a movie together, ‘kay? i’ll take care of you, princess.”

[bonniepop]

another night where you fight, another night of silence. another night where miya osamu sleeps with his back to you.

the realization that there is not much more you can do to save your relationship clutches at your chest with an iron grip.

the gravity of it makes you whimper. pressing your lips together, you shakily push yourself up to sit blinking back tears while blindly stepping around for your slippers, willing yourself not to sob—not here, not where he can hear. your toes touch the fluff of them, and you hurry to slip them on. you need to get out of here.

as quiet as possible, you leave your boyfriend in your shared bedroom.

you stumble to the couch and kick off your shoes, blindly searching until your fingers catch the lampshade switch. you yank it to provide some light, rattling as it flings back into place.

you pull your knees to your chest and press your forehead against your kneecaps. a numb part of your brain thinks oh, so this is where this was, when you think of the misery that quieted itself, replaced with a numbness that overtook you during the fight you had with him earlier.

the numbness that made your limbs feel like ice when he clicked off the phone call without even hearing you out.

you wanted to tell him so much, but in the face of his blank gaze and dismissive demeanor, you shut off. you have more fight in you, you know that. but tonight you just couldn’t. couldn’t listen to him tell you that he needed more from you—more support, more time, more patience.

you’ve given him that, right? your brain runs with thoughts you can't keep up with. you gave him yourself. you have, for months, for years. you did what you could. you’ve withstood lonely anniversaries, forgotten birthdays, broken promises. you’ve done everything you could. you gave what you could. you gave everything you could.

i want you to come home, you wanted to tell him eatlier tonight. come home. you’re never home. i know you’re busy at work and you’re doing what you love but please, ‘samu. please. 

love me, too.

your body wracks with a sob, the hurt fresh, as if the words that you never got to say wounded your insides instead. you wanted to tell him that, you wanted to beg for it, beg for his time, beg for his attention, beg for him to love you back. but time and time again he just turns and says he’s tired, he doesn't want to hear it, and the moment is gone, and now the fear of knowing that leaving things unsaid will destroy you, will destroy him. will destroy both of you.

you huddle closer into yourself and sob, a sharp sound in your ears making your head pound.

“babe?” you hear through the ringing in your ears, and suddenly warm hands are on your arms. “babe, what’s wrong?” his voice is calm against your turmoil. “are you having a panic attack?”

“’samu, i’m—” you shudder and he leaves for a moment, flitting to the kitchen to grab you some water. 

“drink, please,” he tells you, gently unfurling you to sit. you comply with shaky limbs, taking the water he’d given you in your delicate grip. a few sips are enough to calm you down, but the fear is still there.

he gingerly takes the glass and sets it aside. he kneels in front of you, taking your hands and soothingly rubbing his thumbs against your skin. his fingers are hot, almost like a furnace, but when you realize that he's not, he's fine, your hands are freezing, you resist the urge to pull away as he warms your palm.

when he looks up to smile at you, you see the exhaustion on his face, and, instantly, you hate yourself for it. for this.

"i'm sorry," you blurt out, a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over.

his hand leaves yours and cups your cheek. "for what, baby?"

“i love you so much, osamu,” you tell him without thinking, voice thick and wet and miserable. you press the palm of the hand he let go of against his cheek, hiccuping when he closes his eyes to lean into your touch. 

“i love you, too,” he says, ready to apologize for the fight, but it's not about that.

not anymore.

you pull away. the confusion and hurt on his face is making everything worse.

“i love you so much,” you tell him, desperately wishing that he could understand. “but i—” you sob, “but, osamu, i can’t anymore.”

osamu presses his lips together, saying nothing. you hear him sniffle, and his fingers come forward to brush at the tears on your cheeks and tuck a lock of hair behind your ear.

“i love you so much,” you confess. “i would do anything for you. and i have, i have for years. i’ve tried my best, but osamu, i’m so tired,” you sob. your voice feels like its giving out but the desperation makes the words claw themselves out of your mouth. “i’m so tired, i'm so tired and i'm so lonely, and—and—and i love you so much, but i have nothing left to give.”

you pull your hands away to hunch over and cry into your palms unable to face him. messily, you wipe at your face and push your hair back. you give him the most apologetic smile you can muster, but you're unable to see his face through your tears. “i’m so sorry i can’t give you more, osamu.”

you hear him sniffle and when you wipe your tears away with the backs of your hands, his eyes are glassy. then he closes his eyes.

the pain that washes over his face is absolutely unbearable. the furrow of his brow and the wrinkle of his chin, the lines by his scowl that you know is him trying his best to keep it together.

when he opens his eyes to look at you, his eyes are no longer glassy. your heart breaks for the pain he refuses to show. “what’s next?”

your smile is sad and wet with tears. “i think you know.” you brush his hair back and cradle his face with your hands. “let’s… let’s do this in the morning, okay?”

he nods, looking away. he licks his lips and shakes his head, and he turns to face you with a furrowed brow and a little more composure despite his watery gaze. but it doesn’t take long before his face crumples and he rushes to hide his face against your legs. his quiet sobs are pained and miserable, his chest shaking as he cries. 

you press your face against his hair and cry with him.

—

the morning greets you kindly, the soft sunlight bathing your room in a sweet glow. it’s early, but you can’t keep sleeping. there’s a lot to pack.

your eyes feel hot and swollen, and bones feel heavy beneath your skin, weighing you down from getting up from the bed. still, you fight. you push yourself up to sit and notice that you’re alone. unsurprising, really; osamu has been leaving earlier and coming home later. onigiri miya needs care, needs nurturing, so it’ll blossom and grow. you need to stop begrudging him for it.

you finish your morning ablutions in the bathroom and head out to the kitchen, but when you open your bedroom door, the smell of food hits your nose like a smack to the face. your stomach twists when you see a familiar broad back—osamu didn’t leave—and your fingers turn cold.

the door slides shut behind you and he turns. “good mornin’,” he says quietly, shutting off the stove.

“good morning,” you say, walking to your kitchenette. when you see the spread on the table, you gape despite yourself. “osamu. what is—what.”

he flushes, sliding a delicious looking steak unto a plate and setting it alongside the other plates—nearly every single plate you own, you note—and your dining table is bursting with food. “cooked breakfast.”

“for how many people?” you ask, incredulous. “i tried t'remember everythin’ you liked,” he said with a sniff, and your heart crinkles at the edges, because that means something.

“thank you,” you whisper, and you quietly take a seat while sets aside the dishware he used. 

when he finishes, he turns to look at you, leaning on the counter. it takes him a while. “when you leave,” he says, “i’m going to try again.”

you stare at him, confused. you say nothing and wait for him to continue.

“i don’t want you to leave,” he says, and he rubs his face in frustration. “but i know i’ve—i know i fucked up. i love you, and i never should’ve hurt you.” he inhales through his nose. “but i did, and i can’t change that.

“but i’m not giving up on you. not on us. you—” he clears his throat, and the dark circles beneath his eyes makes your heart feel tight. “i’ll… if i have to start all over again, i’ll do it,” he whispers, walking closer and taking your chin in his hand, tilting your face up to meet his eyes. “i’ll win you back.”

“osamu,” you whisper, and his face crumples again.

“i love you too much to let you go,” he says, voice breaking as he fights back tears. “and i know that makes me a jerk. but i’m… i love you, so much—so fucking much, and i hate myself for not making you feel that. for hurting you.”

he gets on his knees and tears are streaming down your face. “leave me if you have to,” he says brokenly.

“if you need space, i’ll understand. but please,” he begs. “please don’t give up on me.” 

he does the unthinkable. he curls over and bows, back curved and forehead pressed against the backs of his hands, pressed against the floor.

the horror that overtakes you is beyond words. 

you drop to the floor to pull him upright, not letting him do this. he won’t do this to himself, you won’t let him. not for anyone, not for you. you pull his face against yours and kiss him as hard as you can, crying as you do.

you won't let him do this.

later, you sit on the couch, arms around osamu’s middle as you lie on his chest. the idea that this could be the last time you held him like this made you want to burst into tears again.

“i’ll make it up to you,” he promises, pushing your hair out of your face, gently guiding your chin up. “please, just… give me another chance.”

you look up at him, and your eyes meet.

—

“hey!” atsumu greets warmly as soon as you enter the restaurant, spreading his arms wide to engulf you in a hug. “it’s so good t’see you!“

“hi, ‘tsumu,” you greet, returning the hug. 

he motions for you to sit as he picks up the menu. “know what you want?”

you nod, not even bothering to pick up the menu. “how are you? how’s training?”

“’m good! training’s good. teammates are pretty good, too.”

"yeah? like who?"

atsumu makes a show of looking at the menu. "oh, i don't you know them."

you roll your eyes at his obvious ploy to get you to start talking. “fine. ask me.”

atsumu instantly leans in, conspiratorially covering his mouth with the menu and whispering, “how are you two? it’s been over a month now, right?”

“oi.” you twist your head to smile up at the newcomer. “stop bothering them, ‘tsumu.”

atsumu glares at his twin. “i’m the one who invited ‘em to lunch!”

osamu rolls his eyes and lays down a platter of onigiri in front of you. he snatches the menu and smacks his brother’s wandering hands with it before they get to close. “these are not for you.”

“but that’s a lot!" atsumu whines. "can’t i have any?”

“no,” osamu says resolutely, then turns to you and gives you the softest smile he can muster, pinning the menu by his side and arm.

"i haven't even ordered yet!" atsumu complains.

osamu ignores him. “let me know what you think.”

“okay,” you say with a smile. 

“and let me know if you need to take out anything,” he continues, “i’ll wrap it up for you.” he leans forward and presses a kiss to your temple. “enjoy.”

“thank you, ‘samu,” you tell him before he turns to leave. 

he smiles back at you and heads back behind the bar.

atsumu has evidently forgotten about ordering, because his eyes shuttle back and forth between you two before nodding considerably. “so i take it things are going well?”

“yeah,” you admit, picking up an onigiri. “going really well, actually.”

“you’ve been…” atsumu searches for the word, “is it still called ‘dating’? you broke up. but… entertaining each other…?”

“don’t hurt yourself,” you joke. “but yeah. let’s call it dating. and it’s going well, thanks for asking.” you take a bite of the onigiri.

“does he still have a chance?” atsumu asks, genuine curiosity on his face.

you chew thoughtfully as you look back at osamu, who’s smiling at a customer. you remember that bright morning, when he helped you pack, helped you move into your friend’s apartment. when he cooked all that food, and you found it neatly packed away in a thermal bag that had a handwritten note, reminding you to eat well.

you remember the next day, when he showed up at your friend’s door, holding flowers and inviting you out to get some ice cream. you remember his messages, his calls, his check ins on you, littered across the days, asking you how you are or if you’re eating or if you need any food.

you could call him if you needed any help, if you needed anything at all.

but reality sets in when you think of how one phone call could be a mistake, it stops you from searching his name each time you pick up the phone.

in your mind, you see his bent form, his begging, his tears. you remember his smiles and his hugs and his ‘see you later’s, his gradually growing list of unbroken promises. you remember the effort, the time he’s putting into you, putting aside for you. you remember how hard he tries for you.

it's like everything is new again.

his eyes catch yours and he gives you a small wave, and you wave back, your stomach fluttering.

it's not new, you think. it's better.

you swallow your food. it's delicious.

“yeah,” you say softly, “he does.”

[blondieeu]

morning rituals. bakugou k.

when you got pregnant, bakugou started to make it more of a habit to tell you goodbye properly before he leaves the house.

Before, after he was all ready — belt buckled, bag packed, he’d only mumble a quick “later”, and that was only if he knew you were awake — but now, before he even seriously leaves the house for good he’s kissing you in between his morning routine, rubbing and kissing at your growing baby.

you lay on your shared bed, cuddling with some big body pillow with your belly laid on it, watching your man get ready in the early hours of the morning. He shouldn’t be working, but he insists to work until the day of his mandatory paternity leave.

“Why don’t you just stay home? Y’already got the biggest job of your life coming up” your hand came up to support your head for a better view of him adjusting his hero gear in the mirror, luckily you did — catching a small smirk from him. He glances at you through the mirror. “Yea, like I’d just sit around here and do nothing. Gotta make sure he’s got everything he needs.” He picked up his belt from his side of the dresser.

“He?” “He.” You snicker from the bed and he turns around, facing you fully. “What’s so funny? We’re having a boy.” Bakugou’s usually hard eyes soften when they catch your swollen belly slightly hidden by the pillow. “I know we’re having a girl..but we can always try again though” you wiggle your eyebrows at him and he rolls his eyes.

The thought of leaving you every morning was starting to weigh on him, even if you didn’t notice and he was too stubborn to outright admit it. “You good?” He asked gruffly before crouching down next to you at the edge of the bed, pecking your lips.

One of his hands reaches out to you almost instinctively, resting on your stomach. It’s like second nature to him now — after all these months of your baby growing. His fingers trace gentle patterns across your warm skin as he felt the occasional kicks and shifts of ‘him’.

“Mm-hmm” you hum placing your hand over his. “But.. id be better if you stayed at home with me” This time, you were the one pecking his lips. Bakugou huffs and rolls his eyes again in a playful manner, but there’s no mistaking the underlying guilt flickering behind them. “Be home before ya know it. Just got the rest of the month babe, then I’m home for good.”

And before you could protest or even get another word out, he leans in again to press a kiss on your forehead, and then one to your belly. “Be nice to mommy, squirt” he mutters against it, his voice uncharacteristically tender and loving.

And just like that, the front door clicks shut and he’s out the door for the day, leaving you in a peaceful silence — already counting the hours before your man comes home again.

Blondieeu xx

[alexiroflife]

"babysitting"

fluff, crack

Synopsis: that time you were babysitting your niece when sukuna came home...

to sum it up: sukuna is such a dad but doesn't know it yet

WC: 1,218

Warning(s): none

“What the fuck is that?”

You look up to see Sukuna standing in the doorway, a twisted snarl on his face as he glares harshly at the object within your grasp. You raise your brows, momentarily surprised by his arrival, and give him a soft smile. 

“Hi, Kuna,” you greet happily, ignoring his question. “I didn’t know you were gonna be back so soon.”

“Answer my question, woman,” he growls, looking almost disgusted by the sight before him. “What is that?”

He points one of his burly arms to you, and you look down at the cooing seven-month-old in your embrace, bouncing up on your knee as you sit on the floor just before Sukuna’s large bed. The baby gargles, hand stuffed into her mouth as drool dribbles down her fist, a thoughtless smile rising onto her small lips.

“She’s my niece,” you tell him, smoothing your thumb lovingly over the baby’s shirt, inspiring a small giggle and a senseless babble. You smile. “Isn’t she so cute?”

“It’s vile,” Sukuna grimaces and you frown. “Why is that beast in my temple?”

“Sukuna, be nice,” you roll your eyes. “She’s just a baby, and my sister needed some help looking after her for a few hours.”

“And you felt prompted to bring it here?”  he scrunches his nose. 

“Her, and where else would I be?” 

“As long as you’re carrying that creature, you must be anywhere else but here,” he grumbles, turning dismissively to leave the room. “I want it gone.”

“What?!” you exclaim, moving to stand with the baby resting on your hip. You walk over to your boyfriend, touching your soft hand to his large back to keep him from leaving. Sukuna peers over his shoulder angrily, four eyes squinting down at the two of you. “Come on, Sukuna! At least admit how adorable she is. Look at this precious little face.”

You squish gently at the baby’s cheeks and her fist falls from her mouth, big round eyes scrunching as a giddy beam rises to her rosy cheeks. All Sukuna can see, however, is the slobber shining over her chin and on her hand. “I do not understand what you are requesting of me,” he says coldly, eying the child as though she carries the plague. “Is it incapable of keeping its saliva inside of its mouth?”

“She’s teething,” you say flatly.

“What?”

“Her teeth are coming in soon, it stimulates drooling.”

Sukuna’s face of disgust grows more exaggerated, leaning his head back with curled lips. “Like an animal?”

Your face drops as you stare at him boredly. “Yes, Sukuna. Like an animal. All humans did it at one point.”

“Do you mean to inform me that you engaged in such a disgusting act when you were in this stage of life?”

“...Yes?”

He clicks his tongue, now eying you with an air of suspicion. “Good to know,” he says rather judgmentally.

The thought crosses your mind to point at that your boyfriend was at some point a human too, but you decide against it.

“Sukuna,” you groan. “Aside from the drool, she’s such a precious little thing. You have to agree, right?” you coo. You look down at the baby to grin childishly at her, tucking your finger under her chin and tapping her slightly, hardly tickling at her body but arising a few more giggles nonetheless. You babble meaningless sounds, speaking to her in a playful voice that Sukuna has never heard from you before.

Though still thoroughly confounded as to why you want him to take interest in this little animal, his eyes catch the way you soften for the child, how your eyes light and a sense of maternity takes you as you speak to the baby as though you know just what to say, drawing out toothless grins and thrilled gibberish. His brow twitches involuntarily, something within him almost enjoying the sight before him. You’re so good with this creature. Have you always been like this?

“What language are you speaking with it?” he suddenly asks gruffly, causing you to pause and look up at him as your niece reaches her small hands up to your cheek. 

“With her,” you correct again. “And I’m not speaking any language, I’m just playing around,” you chuckle slightly. Sukuna stares harshly now, examining the movements of the half developed human in your arms as she curiously taps against your face.

Suddenly catching wind of his presence, the baby’s head turns to him and her eyes grow bigger. She cries out excitedly, reaching her arms out to Sukuna with grasping tiny fingers. Sukuna falters, confused.

“What is she doing?” he asks urgently, and you laugh.

“She wants you to hold her,” you say softly.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Kuna,” you pout. “Please? Just for two seconds.”

“I said no, you brat.”

“Pleaseeeee? Pretty pretty please, my king?”

You give him the biggest puppy dog eyes you can muster, and when he looks between the two of you, your expressions almost match. Sukuna feels something in his resolve crumble, incapable of truly denying you though he tries his best to still appear as though you give him a hard time. 

With an agitated sigh, he reaches his upper set of arms to grab the child as you lift her up and hand her to him. “Two seconds,” he growls and your eyes sparkle with anticipation.

He holds the baby up before him, watching as her little feet dangle and kick around in her onesie as he grasps her from under her arms. His hands practically consume her entire frame, her fingers still reaching out to him curiously, joyfully.

The king of curses continues to glare, brow cocked while he tries to decide what is so special about it. Perhaps he can understand what you find to be “cute.” The baby’s got big chubby cheeks and huge doe eyes that almost remind him of you, and she’s so comically tiny it makes him want to laugh. 

He grunts softly as he pulls the baby in closer, complying with her unspoken request displayed by her constant reaching. She touches her little slobber-less hand on his forehead, touching softly at the plate structure on the right side of his face. Sukuna imagined himself to be a bit more perturbed by the contact, but finds himself unbothered, allowing the child to trace his features with innocent exploration.

You watch with your hands to your mouth, hiding your bright smile. The sight before you is just so adorable, you wish you could take a picture but you know that Sukuna would be quick to crush your phone in an instant if he caught you.

Sukuna finally pulls the child away, watching her grin happily. He hands her back to you and crosses his arms. “What is her purpose?” he questions, and you give him a strange look, adjusting the baby back on your hip as she plays with your hair. 

“She has no purpose. She’s a baby.”

“She is too young to work? To serve?”

“Wh- yes?!”

“Very well,” he nods. “She may stay for another hour.”

“...But my sister isn’t free for another two hours.”

“Two hours, and if she isn’t gone by then, tell her in her native tongue that I will be eating her fingers for dinner.”

[likesomeoneinlovee]

𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐉𝐀𝐖

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: A frustration fueled Joel comes back from scouting with a very prominent issue.

Warnings: PORN NO PLOT. Teasing, thigh riding, throat-fucking, oral m!receiving, Joel calls himself daddy (my bad 😵‍💫), pussy & dick pronouns. Wc: 2k, f!reader

AN: this was all written within the span of an hour so my bad, this is what ovulation does to a bitch.

Home alone. For three whole hours.

Joel went out scouting.

Your eyes that whole time had been staring holes into the floral wallpaper of the flat, without much to do -or, more realistically without the man you’ve been thinking about doing all fuckin’ day. It was a draining experience. Your fingernails peeling up the flesh of your thighs as you sunk further, deeper into his living room couch. It smelled like him. The musky scent he wore all seeped into the upholster.

The sound of the front door’s lock clicking once he had inserted the key made your ears perk, hours of listening to your own heartbeat the time you weren’t desperately trying to stimulate your accumulating thoughts about him. The touch, the feeling of his body that you’ve only felt one whole time in which you had never gotten it off your brain. Thick fingers running along the puffy, sopped folds of your pussy, stretching you. Running his free, spit slicked palm over and all the way down his cock to get himself ready. The feeling of his girth forcing into your hole.

You’d never forget.

The door would creak open before you locked onto him. A thick hand wrapped around one of the straps of his supply bag before he dropped it onto the ground next to the door, a long exasperated sigh escaping past his parted lips. Running thick fingers through the greying curls on his head.

“Fuck.”

Cursing, Joel would walk past you and to the kitchen, opening the first cupboard which to his luck had some booze in it. A stale, half empty bottle of said booze. Popping the cap off, taking a swig.

Finding it difficult to look away while the man did something as simple as drink, the sight of his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down his throat as the bready liquid moved down the pharynx.

Satisfied from the liquid quenching his thirst he walked back over to the couch, sitting down directly next to you, his thigh touching yours. Hadn’t been able to notice earlier whether it was the angle or how fast he walked through the house, his cock was writhing tightly against his jeans. Sunrays shone through the windows, curtains open. Yellow hued light outlining the bulge. Clearly he had been like this for a while. His worn palms running down his face.

Your lips parted, tongue tied by the sight. It was a test, surely.

With little-to-none resistance your hand reached out to place on his thigh, one of your fingers would stretch to touch the curve sticking out in his jeans, the pad of your index hardly applying any pressure before tracing his dick, watching it jump before you felt Joel’s hand grab your wrist.

“All day- All fuckin’ mornin’, baby.”

Fingers twisting over the skin on your arm, another twitch from his cock would draw in your attention. He’s been waiting.

“You didn’t have to come all the way back here. You have a hand.”

Stating as if there wasn’t a pool of your own slick in the middle of the lace underwear you had only dug through your drawer to find earlier in the day. On your mind all day was this very moment, you had been counting every tick from the clock as you waited for him to walk into the room and fuck your face.

“I swear to fuckin’—“

His legs spread open over the cushion, tapping his boot against the hardwood. Impatient.

To reiterate again, waiting all fucking day. Now with you here the thought of waiting another second had him struggling. Wearing loose boyshorts around your hips as you sat there he’d lean over you, hooking his finger to the hem before yanking them off those pretty legs. A palm he had placed on your low stomach now sliding til his hand was underneath the white, lace panties he oh-so-loved. His tall finger slipped past your clit, into your swollen slit. You’d mewl.

Soaked.

“Knew it.”

He yanked you onto his thigh, moving his hand down to your ass, squeezing, fat spilling between his fingers. Luckily his second hand had been lazily resting at his side now had a purpose, up your back and to the back of your head to hold onto your hair. His lips slamming into yours. No mercy behind the kiss.

Your hips began rolling at a quick pace, your cunt slowly coming un-covered with every thrust down into his jean clad thigh. His tall finger finding his way back to your hole beneath your underwear, tracing it with his thick digit. Pulling his lips back from yours with a wet smack.

“She’s fuckin’ droolin’.”

He’d drawl, to no avail you’d try to force that finger into you by a buck of your hips downward. Thus, he’d withdraw. A reward game, you’ll earn his fingers later.

One more long grind down into his thigh that’d surely serve you a friction burn later and you were off his leg. Dropping onto your knees in front of his lap. You’d swear you’ve only dreamt of being in a position like this. Your smaller hands started at his calves before resting on his thighs. His coffee eyes staring into yours.

He wouldn’t waste precious time now, unbuckling his belt to toss it away. Unzipping his jeans to shove them to his upper thighs, the last article of suffrage being his boxers, a dark wet spot painfully obvious on the grey cotton. He’d tug on the elastic that rimmed the top before tugging his briefs to his upper thighs, with the quick pull his cock sprung up slapping against his tummy.

His shaft was turning red. Tip pulsating. His thumb ran down to spread the bead of precum over him, laminating the dark pink bulb til’ it looked like glass. A flutter in your stomach at the sight.

“Stick your tongue out.” He’d just barely manage to groan.

Control now gained with his fingers wrapped around his base. Your knees now hitting the base of the couch, it was as close as you could get. Obeying the commands you opened your mouth, your pink, saliva slicken tongue sticking out.

His cock slapped against your tongue, driving it into your wet hole with his free hand as his other worked into your hair, his fingers forming an O around your thick locks as a makeshift hair tie. Though, you’d find this was better.

He was fuckin’ big. Even taking him into your pussy didn’t do him justice, only truly able to fit him halfway into your small mouth.

It wouldn’t be enough for him.

His hips would buck forward, his cockhead hitting the back of your throat. Involuntarily your throat would clench - teetering the lines of a gag and a spasm of your muscles. Though, your eyes began to gloss over.

The knot in your pelvis tightened while Joel craned his neck back against the back of the couch letting out a long, rough groan. Such a tough girl, he’d figure a few good thrusts wouldn’t be the thing that’d ruin you.

Another buck of his hips sent a wrack through his body, fucking his thick cock into your throat. Your drool dribbling down his shaft. Your eyes hadn’t unlocked with his own ‘less they were going to roll back into your skull with every hit to the very back of your tongue. A moan bubbled up from your tightened throat, vibrating up the thick length of his dick. You could taste how his vein would throb and pulsate against your cheek. No doubt he was close.

With your mouth managing to take every. Last. Inch. Of him so deeply. There was no way he could last.

Your own thighs would clench together as your eyes finally took a break from straining upwards to now clenching shut. Your juices collecting all in the middle of your panties. Your clit throbbing excruciatingly hard. You knew better than to touch yourself. Focusing and giving your body up to the task at hand.

Joel’s breaths turning into deep pants. His balls tightening, drawing up. Though he had a better idea than just cumming straight on the spot despite that just being the thing he’s been pining for all fucking day. Tugging on the hair falling between his fist he pulled your head back, his cock extruding from your mouth with an audible, wet ‘pop!’ sound. Glossy eyes gazed into his as his flickered down to his cock, jumping straight up once released from your mouth one big mess of his precum mixing with your salivation.

“Makin’ such a mess of him, huh?” He’d grunt. Completely gawked by the sight. “Such a fuckin’ mess of daddy’s cock.”

You could’ve sworn this man was giving your pussy a heartbeat.

Before you could give any sort of catty response his cock was shoved back into your mouth, giving you no time to readjust, to get used to the feeling of his burning tip knocking at the back of your throat. Managing by the grace of God to stowaway your gag reflex seemingly just for the evening. His pace slowing, beginning to get sloppy quicker. You’d have a lot to say if you didn’t have a mouthful. Though, deep down you knew that your unhealthily cock-drunk brain would be unable to formulate a coherent sentence. One with both sense and grace.

“Just. Like. That.” He punctuated.

Thrusting deeper til your nose was bobbing up and down against his pelvis. Nuzzling into the scent that came within the dense thicket of greying, wiry hairs. All curled around and crowing his base. You felt the thick vein that traveled all the way down the girth of his dick pulsate against your overstuffed cheek. A whine from you would only shake up his shaft. His tummy tightening up, hips spasming. Another violent thrust to the back of your tongue those built up tears to freely fall down your cheeks.

Again.

Sliding his cock from your lips to shove it back in again. Every time taking the split second to admire all that drool dripping down the line of his strained cock.

“Fuck! Baby—“ Absolutely strained.

He’d throw his head back, bumping it against the back of the couch as he let out a long, throaty moan. He pulled out of your mouth, the overused motion you’ve grown so very accustomed to, though this time your tongue stayed out, perfectly so as he was able to paint the pink muscle with hot, thick ropes of cum. Pumping his fist over his cock as ropes of semem shoot down your tongue and straight to the back of your throat. Painting his own perfect masterpiece on the fleshy canvas of your mouth.

Swallowing every last droplet as if it were liquid gold.

His stomach rose and fell heavily with each breath, his hand reached out to grab your chin, the pad of his thumb pressing down on your glossy bottom lip. Every. Last. Drop. Though, he just had to make sure.

“That’s what I like to see, babygirl.” He’d praise. Lazily tugging up his boxers so he could conceal his freshly mouth-fucked cock, concealing with another layer courtesy of his unzipped jeans. Sure, you finished him the fuck off but that didn’t mean he was gonna soften up anytime soon.

You’d just hardly make it back onto your trembling legs as you looked at him, panties slid to the side from unconsciously grinding against the cold, wooden floors. A droplet of that warm, glue-like slick trickling down your inner thigh once you stood up. Joel’s eyes followed the stray tear.

“Goddamn, baby. Lemme take care of that for you.”

That’s what you like to hear.

Standing up from the couch with a long grunt he’d lift you off of your feet, carrying you straight to his bed. Soon enough he’d be two knuckles deep into your aching pussy, giving you all that sweet pleasure you so deserved after earning it so fuckin’ well.