#like the fact that its ... looking down to count..

[notjustjavierpena]

Dream

Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: A little Acacius piece to jumpstart my brain again!

Summary: Out on a war campaign, Marcus wakes up in the middle of the night to a dream of you. Oh, how hard it is to be apart.

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18, YEARNING, kisses, piv sex, emotional and passionate sex, slight breeding, creampie

Word count: 2.6k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60742789

Dream

The Roman encampment lies quiet underneath the starry sky as Marcus startles awake, his legionnaires long ago having extinguished fires with dirt, downed the last goblets of drink, and found rest in their cots. It is in the middle of the night, the general judges by the silence around him that’s only disturbed by the hoot of an owl somewhere. Along with the warm sun, early mornings also bring the sound of a bustling camp - its soldiers chatting and preparing for the day’s march across the country - but right now, all is still. 

Marcus also deduces that it is way into the night because the moon hangs high and silent on the horizon, its pale and beautiful light shining into his tent. With sleep still clinging to him, he realizes that he has been woken up by a warm breeze catching the flaps of the tent, the entrance repeatedly opening and closing with a whipping sound.

His first instinct is to reach for his dagger, sure of the fact that he secured the entrance to his makeshift bedchambers before falling asleep, but the second he wraps his fingers around the hilt, he sees you standing there with the moonlight bathing you from behind in a bluish glow that makes you seem almost ethereal. 

You approach his cot, and he lets his hand fall from the dagger and drop onto the chest of his tunic. You are so beautiful, radiant in the same nightgown that he saw you in the night before you parted ways and he went to war. It is a memory that keeps him going even through the hardest of days; the way you had kissed him so deeply, sprawled out beneath him. This was while you had looked at him pleadingly and with tears on your face that he tried to catch with his thumbs before they rolled down into your hair. The way he had made love to you is burned into his mind, keeping him warm when temperatures outside drop along the seaside. He promised you that he would return to you as soon as he could but here he is in your company much sooner than he anticipated, and he knows it cannot be real. 

Your gown flows around you with each step you take, draping so perfectly along the curves of your body as if you’re the personification of Venus herself. He knows what the white fabric hides, even if it weren’t for the rounding of your breasts being outlined or the peaks of your nipples poking against the front. You perch yourself on the edge of his cot, leaning over him and smiling tenderly down at him. 

“This is a dream,” he says quietly. He reaches out to curl his fingers into your dress, wondering if you’ll evaporate into thin air if he touches you. He doesn’t think he can handle it if you disappear from his grasp.

“If this is a dream, then I wish never to wake," you declare and the sound of the melody that is your voice has Marcus’ heart nearly leaping out of his chest. You stay with him as he tugs you down for a kiss, solid against him and nowhere like the mist surrounding the tents in the morning like he had feared, “Yet some say that we must be thinking of one another at the same time to be meeting like this.”

“I am always thinking of you. I miss you more than I can bear,” he says weakly, a lump having formed in his throat, scratchy from sleep. You rest your forehead against his, the both of you sighing softly in relief at being so close. Then you place a hand on his cheek, and Marcus feels a whole universe of emotions inside of himself, expanding so fast that he can’t breathe, that it threatens to overwhelm him. 

“You have me,” you reassure gently, opening your eyes to look at him even as you kiss him softly on the lips. Your scent envelops him, jasmine flowers - his favorite - from the garden where he took his first stroll with you. And there his heart and mind go once more, feeling relief yet longing, happiness yet sadness. 

“This war,” he whispers and his gaze is fleeting, “It feels meaningless if I cannot be with you, beloved wife. We are parts of the same soul, you and I. What good am I here if I am merely a puzzle missing its pieces?”

“Shh, look at me, my love,” you soothe and it’s like his body is draped in the warm blankets of your shared bed, hearing the sound of his home bustling with happiness. You brush your fingers across the stubble on his cheek. He leans into the touch, knows that his eyes are wide and pleading as he returns them to you. You scratch his beard again, “You are whole, Marcus Acacius, even here. You carry me with you, just as I carry you.”

“My clever wife, yet again you are right. It is my weary heart that speaks. Of course, you are always with me, always in my thoughts even when it feels like the skies will tumble down upon me and the world will end,” he replies, taking in the way you look to the version of him that dreams. He wonders if the picture before him will etch itself into his mind, so deeply that his thoughts will conjure up fresh images tomorrow during broad daylight. 

“Those skies are skies we share, always under the same sun and moon,” you smile, and he sighs, closing his eyes as you trace his face with your fingers. You draw invisible lines across his features, gently over his cheekbones and carefully down the length of his nose, fingertips dancing across his eyelids with featherlight touches, “Do you remember nights spent under the stars? You love that spot close to the river back home.”

“Tell me of home," he asks of you, a bead of desperation rattling around in his chest, "Tell me of the river, the fields, and the stars, of the songs the birds sing at dawn."

“The river flows like it always has, my love. The fields stand golden and the wind makes it seem like they are one with the water surrounding them. Can you see it?” You sound like a lullaby. 

Marcus nods, the sight is painted on the back of his eyelids. He knows each hue of blue and golden, each curve of the bending riverbanks, and he can almost feel his heart beating slower at the mental image. He finds peace in the idea that nothing has changed back where you are waiting for him, the familiarity more soothing than any draught or potion. For a moment, he is home with you and all is well. 

You peck his lips while brushing his cheek with the back of your hand, “And the birds. Can you hear them? The way the larks greet each morning?”

“I hope the Fates are not so cruel as to keep us apart for much longer. I want to hear them again soon,” he murmurs, opening his eyes to find himself staring into yours. He reaches up to cup the back of your neck, feeling how warm you are despite not actually being here. 

“Sleep,” you encourage gently. 

“I can’t, not with you so near,” he whispers and draws you nearer to his mouth again. He captures your lips in a longing and deep kiss, a quiet urgency rising in his chest when you sigh the way he loves. As you thread your fingers through his graying hair, he reaches for your waist and guides you to sit on top of him. 

Your dress pools around your thighs and him like the mountains and valleys he crosses each day. He pulls back to drink you in, committing you to memory as his eyes dance over the curves he had noticed beneath the fabric as you entered his tent. 

"Then touch me," you let out a little breath of desperation, a fire having ignited in your eyes while you stare into his. He feels the flame within himself too. 

One of his hands moves slowly up your bare arm, the other tracing the length of your spine on top of your dress until you shiver. He lets both hands grab at the straps of your gown, guiding them off your shoulders until your chest is bare to him. You lean down for another kiss but he grabs your soft shoulder to stop your advances, his thumb resting against your pulse point. He marvels at how real you feel, can feel your heartbeat underneath the tip of his finger as if you are truly here. 

"Marcus," you plead him quietly and he doesn’t hesitate. He sits up slowly until your breasts touch his chest and then he finds your mouth again, his fountain of youth. He slips his hands underneath the skirt of your gown and feels that you are already ready to welcome him if he wants. He touches you there for only a moment but you still beautifully furrow your brow with pleasure from how much desire Cupid has sent through your veins. However, he decides that he has no time to prolong this moment with you because only Somnus will know when he’s going to wake up. 

“Lift your arms,” he guides after hearing you make a feeble noise when he removes his digits from your slick core. 

You do as he says and he lifts the waves of fabric over your head, throwing the discarded gown onto the ground with a smile on his face. In return, your hands find the hem of his tunic, sliding it up and over his head. The tunic joins your gown on the floor, the both of you finally touching each other’s naked bodies with soft chuckles. There’s something euphoric about simply being naked in each other’s arms before making love, something so vulnerable and private that it’s reserved only for each other. 

Your palms roam over his broad, strong chest and your fingers thread through the coarse hairs there. His hands mirror yours but instead, they feel the softness of your skin that prickles his with warmth. He skims them over the swell of your breasts, the touch full of worship while he buries his nose in the crook of your neck. 

“My beautiful wife,” he murmurs while he showers you in kisses from neck to collarbone to the top of your breast. 

“Make feel whole,” you moan and cradle his head, holding him against your chest while his mouth trails across the valley of your breasts. He doesn’t need to be commanded twice, already helping you to sink down on him to the very hilt of his length. 

The connection has the both of you gasping and chuckling further in relief, none of you moving as you get used to having him so deep within you. He stares up at you as you’ve elevated yourself slightly to sit down on his cock, blown away by your beauty that’s enough to make him twitch inside of your pulsing heat. 

"I love you immeasurably, my wife.”

"And I love you, my husband.”

You move against him for the first time and he groans low in his throat, already feeling the stirrings of pleasure. With his hands on your hips, the two of you slowly begin moving together, your bodies finding a rhythm that is instinctive and familiar. He finds that he doesn’t need to intervene in your sinful ministrations on top of him; he knows the pattern of your hips’ movements like the back of his hand, knows when to leave you to do as you please and when to help you. Right now, you are an expert in driving him to madness. 

His hands are everywhere as you take what you need from him. He touches where he can reach - your thighs, your hips, your back - as if he cannot figure out where he wants to hold you the most. Eventually, your hands find his to anchor him, entwining your fingers together to ground him in his longing for you. 

However, Marcus is not a man of restraint when it comes to you. He needs you in ways that make him yearn for you even when you are on top of him. 

“Faster,” he brushes his lips against your jaw, kisses your chin when he was supposed to find your mouth. You hold his hands and oblige, the rolls of your hips quickening to a pace much faster than how you’ve been imitating the waves of the sea. Your skin is glistening in the moonlight coming through his tent, sparkling like you are a goddess descended from the heavens and into the arms of him, a mere mortal. 

You’ve closed your eyes as you near your crescendo, your lips parting in a breathless moan while the world outside is lost to the both of you. He can feel you choking his length, tightening around him like a fist. In his belly, heat is tightening like a rope about to snap in two. He feels it within you too, both of you teetering on the edge of unmatchable pleasure. He wishes it was real and not in the realm of dreams, wishes that this was the moment he created a family with you and made you his entirely. There’s so much to look forward to in his return. 

“Let go, my love,” he says in an almost commanding tone, “Let your general feel you.”

And you do. Your peak hits you like a bolt of lightning to the point where he has to keep up your pace, his hips thrusting up to meet yours while you lose yourself in the sensations running through your veins. He drags your entwined hands to his chest, placing your palm on his pounding heart, and mirrors his own hand on your chest too. Your hearts beat in unison and he can’t take it anymore, can feel his control slipping from his grasp. 

He comes with a quick intake of air and then a growl, his hips stuttering before he spills inside of you. His body tenses up for a moment before it relaxes thoroughly, chest heaving and head swimming with the intensity of it all. You say his name and he finds himself saying yours, repeating it like were they prayers for the Gods. 

Eventually, your body slumps against him and he slips out of your spent heat. Your breaths are synchronized, even as they slowly start to calm down in your bliss. He holds you close to his chest, feeling you stick to him but he doesn’t care. He’ll take anything you have to give when his body and soul miss you so thoroughly. 

“Sometimes I wonder if the Gods are punishing me for loving you so deeply,” he murmurs with a trail of kisses along your shoulder. A loud, satisfactory sigh leaves him when you slide your fingers through his sweat-damp hair. 

“Your ability to love wholly and completely is yours alone. Do not let the Gods take credit for what belongs to your heart,” you whisper back to him, stealing a kiss when he looks up at you. 

“Stay with me,” he begs of you, “Don’t ever go.”

“I will stay as long as the night prevails,” you reply gently, “But come dawn, I have to go.”

It is unbearable but it makes it more precious. He reaches to brush a strand of your hair from your forehead as it has fallen into your face during your intimacy. He smiles as he takes in the sight of you, how beautiful you look with heated cheeks. 

“Tell me about home again,” he requests, “Please.”

And so you do.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[mr-ys-phantasma]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2074

Finale I - part 2/3 (Agatha X Reader X Rio ending):

As the fight continued, you could only watch; eyes getting misty at the sight. You did not want to see anyone getting hurt, especially Agatha, who so stubbornly kept fighting.

You gasped weakly when you saw one of Rio's attacks sending her back. The feeling in your stomach got worse when you saw Agatha spitting out blood as she stubbornly stood up, not giving Rio the satisfaction of defeat.

Deep breaths only caused you more pain, but you had to, as you tried to gather all of your mental strength to remain in control. Your hand was firmly placed against the wound, your white magic trying to heal you but failing to do so; the dagger far more powerful than anyone expected.

Seeing Rio and Agatha fighting made your heart beat painfully, each beat causing more aches within. You hatd seeing them at each other's necks when you knew deep down, they still had feelings for one another... and you had for them.

They did not deserve to hate each other until the end of time or fight until one of them was about to die; in this case, Agatha.

You slowly started to stand up, adrenaline the only thing helping as your legs felt weak; the shock of the attack still affecting your body but not your mind, since the safety of your lovers was far more powerful.

Your grip on Billy's arm tightened, using him as an extra support to get and remain up; for the last thing you needed was to fall.

"What are you doing?" Billy asked, looking at you in surprise. He stood up fast, ready to catch you in case you fell back but also, passively wishing to stop you from doing anything reckless. "You should be healing."

You took a moment to answer, each breathe causing you pain. "I can't. It's Rio's knife," you answered vaguely.

Your hand went to the handle, and you braced yourself before pulling the dagger in one quick move. The action made you gasp, hands shaking as you dropped the knife.

You brought your dominant hand on your chest, white magic coming alive beneath your finger. You tried your best to hold the bleeding, reduce it, and stop yourself from dying on the spot.

It worked faintly, but the blood kept coming out, no longer the dagger existing to block it and keep you alive.

You felt the familiar warmth of fresh blood coming from an open wound, but it did not phase you. You had your plan in mid, and that was the only thing you cared about.

Billy looked at you, a continuous support while he tried hard not to look at your bleeding wound. "What do you mean? You will die if you try to move." He argued, hoping somehow he could ensure you would not die on him.

Honestly, he could not bear losing you too; especially in such an unfair and unjust way. You of all witches deserved to survive and live, not fall victim to centuries old fuel between Agatha and Rio.

You offered him a weak smile. "Even my powers have limits, and so does my time here."

He had no words to argue, seeing you so determined despite the fact you were about to die. All he could do was to ensure you were okay as you took the first step forward; eyes always locked on the two lovers locked into this heated, never-ending battle.

You started slowly walking toward Rio and Agatha, not caring about the risk that their wild energy would and could hit you.

Your time, like you had told Billy, was limited. You didn't have a lot of time to act, and every second paasing was vital.

Each step felt heavier than the one before it. Each breath was laboured and brought up pain. The bleeding was not stopping, you're magic was not capable of helping you somehow heal while you were pushing your body to its limits.

Rio and Agatha did not take notice of you approaching until it was too late. Green and purple magic had come alive in their hands, but both froze when they spotted you.

This thing, perhaps, was your only chance to actually interfere, and you took it by the horns.

You let go of your world and focused all the magic you could gather in your hands. You could feel how quickly it was draining you, siphoning all of your energy and power.

Yet, you kept going, and when you felt it was enough; you stopped holding back..

Your white magic exploded all around you, forming a powerful sphere of white energy. It not only lifted wind, dust, and debris but also sent the two lovers on their backs; effectively stopping them from attacking one another.

Congratulations, you had managed to stop them both from trying to kill one another. However, at what cost?

A strong cough escaped you, blood staining your hand that had subconsciously moved in front of your lips. Your powers started giving up on you, and you had to bend one knee to try and save yourself from a nasty fall.

"Y/N!" Billy called your name in worry, so close in rushing to you.

Seeing you this weak and pale, worried both Rio and Agatha; who stood up and were recovering from your spontaneous blast.

Rio was the first to speak. "Get back, Y/N!" She shouted, seeing you trying hard to remain in the middle.

Agatha joined right after. Rio's words snapped her from the initial shock. "Get away from her!"

Their words started to tire you, your patience running quite thin since you were so close to bleeding out to death. You were tired, you were wounded and most likely about to die...

So you would not spend your last moments watching them fight and argue.

You managed to stand on your legs again, though you were unsure for how long you would manage.

"I swear I will keep blasting you until you both stop!" You snapped at them and brought your hand to wipe the blood from the edges of your mouth. Your other hand was still pressed against your wound, though to no avail; blood staining your hand and dress with no intention of stopping. "I don't care what happened between the two of you in the past... I don't care how Little Nicky got involved..." You took in a pained breath. "But I refuse to let you kill each other, over such stupid past and grudge.

And with those words, you could no longer remain standing. Your legs buckled in, knees supporting all your weight as they were forced on the rough ground.

The white in your eyes disappeared, your trusty powers abandoning you faster after the outburst.

Agatha and Rio acted on pure instinct, dropping everything they did and thought as they rushed towards you. They knelt by each side of you, arms spreading to hug and hold you; preventing you from falling forward.

Their presence was comforting to you as you felt yourself getting weaker. With the last bit of your strength, you brought your hands around each of their necks and pulled them closer to you.

"You two better make amends, or I swear... I will come back and haunt you both, " you joked weakly.

You could tell the ending was close, but this time, you were not afraid. You welcomed it, knowing you were in the arms of the two women you loved.

Rio and Agatha did not seem to take your words lightly, and both hugged you tightly. Agatha was the one failing to hide back her tears, her bottom lip faintly trembling.

Rio was better at being in control, perhaps because it was her you would see soon as she took your soul to the next plane. Yet the fact remained that she was not fully okay with you dying, so stupidly none the less.

As Rio and Agatha kept you closer; their hands met behind your back. In a silent moment of common grief and support, they let their fingers interlock.

"You stupid naive girl," Rio said, inhaling your scent as she buried her face into your shoulder.

Agatha hesitated to speak, afraid her voice would crack. "Sugar..." she whispered.

The whole sight brought tears into Billy's eyes, leaving him standing there as you slowly accepted death, and so did your lovers.

You closed your eyes, a few tears escaping as you held them close; feeling them together once again. Your feelings for both went crazy and you wished to kiss them one last time, but you feared you would collapse if you let them go.

As you three remain there, hugging one another; your breaths started to sync, your hearts beating as one as the faint light of the moon was casted on you.

Suddenly, your white magic started to come alive beneath your fingers, starting faint but slowly growing in intensity. The same seemed to happen to Rio and Agatha, one magic influencing the other; bringing it to life without the consent of their casters.

At first, it was so faint that no one noticed, but then this new feelings started to be shared within the three of you. This new combined power started to surge through their bodies and yours, a sweeter and more favourable wind picking up.

Your eyes opened wide as you felt your chest wound burning, and only then did you notice the show of colours taking place all around you.

Rio's green and black magic was alive, wrapping around the three of you, but it was not alone. Agatha's purple had joined into the mix, along with your white one; creating beautiful harmonised combinations as they kept moving around you like live creatures with a life of their own.

Once your fellow witches took notice, they gasped and pulled back; with you copying them.

Colour had returned to your once pale cheeks, eyes glowing with life. Your wound was covered by a mixture of this triple magic, quickly stopping the bleeding and sticking up.

"The wound..." Agatha exclaimed, being the first to notice it.

Rio notices it too, but there is obvious confusion on her face. You were literally with one leg over and now... you were glowing with life, your magic returning and boosting you stronger than ever before.

Then, the answer came, and it all clicked into place. "The power of the three." she looked at Agatha, a smirk of victory on her lips. "I told you she could be part of it."

Once again, you were confused on the topic of discussion; clearly, I had missed quite a few things that you needed in order to catch up.

Agatha always found you rather adorable when you had that innocent and confused expression on your face.

She cupped your cheek gently. "I will explain later, sugar."

With their help, you slowly got up; feeling better than before, but you could go for a long nap.

As you turned to face Billy, you almost got tackled by him as he rushed to hug you. He truly thought he had lost you for a moment, and now here you stand, all healthy and healed.

"How is this possible? Thought you couldn't heal the wound," he said and pulled back, looking at you for answers.

You could not help but smile. "Alone, I couldn't. Together, we could."

Agatha chose to help enlighten the poor boy who had yet so much to learn. "The power of the three. Three witches magically bonded like no other, it enchants and boosts each other's powers."

Billy nodded and looked at Agatha, and then he dared to look at Rio. "So what now?"

It was your turn to look at Rio, holding her and in yours. "Please, let's end this." Rio hesitated to answer, evident in her dark eyes. "Come on, Rio. We will all die sooner or later. Why must you take us now? "

Rio remained silent for a moment, clearly debating the topic in her mind. In the end, she let out a small sigh of defeat.

"Very well," she agreed and lifted a single digit. "One life," she emphasised. "No more cheating death, no more body jumping."

Billy and Agatha did not have to be told twice to nod their heads, more than happy to leave with their lives.

Agatha looked at Rio and offered a sweet smile. "Thank you, my love."

Part 3 (smutt)

[whoreforsexymen]

This might be kind a kind of crazy request but hear me out, but feel free to ignore if your uncomfortable. So it's Jace Talis x reader SFW but it aludes to smut. Basicaly jayce wants to gets freaky with his girl or guy or whatever, but Jayce want to watch victor get freaky with the reader, Jayce's partner. I don't want to see any smut, but I just want to see the conversation go down between Jayce and Victor, of Jayce asking Victor if we would like to smash his partner and watch them lol.

Your wish is my command, darling. Sit back and let Mommy do her thing 🤍 (Also, tagging this as NSFW since it uses strong language, and heavily eludes to is directly about cucking.)

Jayce asking you to cuck him w/ Viktor | Flash

Pairings: Jayce Talis x Reader x Viktor

Pronouns: None used for Reader. Can be read as GN!!

Rating: NSFW, 18+ MDNI !!!!!

Word Count: 447

Tags: Cuckholding, Implied M/M (if you squint), Heavy implications of sex (duh), maybe slight OOC Jayce (also, if you squint), slight Sub!Jayce (if you REALLY REALLY SQUINT)

Notes: I have yet to watch S2 because I already can’t handle the heartbreak I know is waiting around the corner for me. So this is written with S1 Viktor and Jayce!!

Also, my first request!!! EEEE!! I hope you like it!! I wrote this so fast cause I was so excited and had nothing else to do hehehe xo

I ALSO KNOW YOU ASKED FOR THE CONVO TO BE BETWEEN VIKTOR AND JAYCE— WHICH ILL DO SOON, TOO, AS A PART 2!! But I liked this idea better ansjdkdkskkkkk for now!!

“…What?” You ask, bewildered.

“I know— I know it’s a weird request. But. I don’t know. I just think it would be hot to watch you… y’know… get fucked by someone else. And— I mean. It’s not like there’s anyone I trust more than Viktor—“ Jayce spoke quickly, a hint of embarrassment lacing his words as he let out a nervous chuckle, his fidgeting betraying his best efforts to exude a calm facade.

He swallowed tightly, his nerves making him feel exposed and helpless, like a child left alone in the dark.

“So. Let me get this straight. I just want to make sure I’m hearing you right. You want Me— And— Viktor, to fuck… While you watch?” You ask plainly.

Jayce swallowed once more, his nerves spiraling as he struggled to hold himself together.

“That is what I said… yes.” He mutters, scratching the back of his neck.

You stare at him, dumbfounded. The idea itself doesn’t catch you off guard—not really. In fact, it stirs something exciting within you. It’s a little unconventional, sure, but you’re not opposed to exploring what could lie ahead for your sex life with Jayce. You might enjoy letting him take the lead most of the time, but there’s something about the way he’s dancing around this topic in particular— too nervous to be bold—that sparks a fire in your gut.

“Hmm.” You hum softly, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“Is it just because you wanna see your boyfriend naked~?” You tease, your hands resting lightly on his chest as you look up at him, your gaze heavy with playfulness, smoldering as always.

Jayce stammers harder than before.

“I- wh- No. Pfft. It’s just- I just-..” He can’t even continue his stammering before you kiss him. It was a soft and chaste one, yet needy in its own way, and above all—understanding.

After several long seconds, once you sense his nerves start to settle, you slowly pull away, the tension lingering in the space between you.

“We can do that.” You say softly, giving him one extra peck to the lips.

“Really?” He queries, unsure of if you’re being truthful.

You emit a gentle chuckle.

“Yes, my love… I’m open to it.” You explain, running your hands along his chest… Over his vest… and down the length of his tie. You felt him shudder beneath your wandering hands.

“Why don’t you ask Viktor, and if he’s open to it, we can try… let’s see… tonight, hmm?” You ask, leaning in and nibbling his ear ever so teasingly.

After a long pause, Jayce finally speaks again, his voice quieter now, as if weighing his words more carefully.

“I already asked him. He said yes.”

[peachesundercover]

planet x

g/t commission for @sizediscount

Pax, a space explorer, arrives on a new planet. It appears to be completely barren- that is, until he runs into one of the planet's particularly large inhabitants. I had so much fun writing this and developing some new characters!! I hope you enjoy it <3 word count: 2.9k

“Damnit!”

The swear left Pax’s mouth before he could control it, and within seconds he collapsed onto the dirt, a jolt of pain arising from his ankle. 

He paused, processing this new development, then huffed. As he slowly pushed himself to his knees, he dragged his thick white sleeve over his face, removing traces of gray soil. Irritation continued to pull at his chest with every passing second. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered out loud to himself. The enormous forest around him offered no answer. 

In fact, if Pax stayed completely still, he might think that he was looking at a painting. The trees stretched impossibly high above him, gray and rock-like, comparable to the mountains he had encountered on other planets. The white leaves were as frozen as ice. Not even a breeze or bird rustled them. Pax’s gaze traveled from the trees to the colorless dirt around him, and with a frown, he tugged a thick silver machine from his pocket.

“Twenty minutes after arrival. Planet X lacks color,” he muttered into the voice recorder, his green gaze glancing around at his surroundings. “No signs of life that I can see.”

He paused, as if someone might appear to prove him wrong, but the silence remained, dry and cold and overpowering. Disappointment tugged at his chest, and his gloved finger clicked the voice recorder off. He stowed it away.

Being a space explorer had its pros and cons, he decided as he pushed himself to his feet. The sheer material of his spacesuit offered an unpleasant scraping noise as he dusted himself off. He wrinkled his nose, then shook his head to dispel bits of gray soil from his umber hair. The only positive of this planet so far was its clear, safe oxygen levels, which allowed Pax to explore without wearing his uncomfortable helmet. That heavy nuisance was sitting back on his spaceship, somewhere far behind him.

A distant rumble sent a jolt of surprise down Pax’s spine. The explorer straightened up instantly, jaw tight, and listened intently.

In the gray, barren forest, something was undoubtedly moving. A low noise traveled through the ground, swaying leaves and disrupting the dry, empty air. Pax drew his bottom lip between his teeth, contemplating his next actions as his anxiety intertwined with his curiosity.

The noises were loud, but distant. Whatever was producing those large rumbles must be large itself, and while that worried Pax, he couldn’t deny that it intrigued him. What could possibly be thriving on such a dead planet?

Within seconds, he was given an answer.

The rumbling grew abruptly louder– evenly spaced, resounding footsteps, Pax realized with a jolt of surprise– and movement to his left caught his attention.

“Oh.”

The noise left Pax’s mouth in a hoarse, wobbly breath. Muscles within his torso tightened, cold and stiff.

“Oh.”

For a moment, he wondered if he was dreaming— if the massive, towering, unbelievably tall monster before him was just a figment of his imagination. Surely, Pax had to be dreaming.

Two enormous legs stretched up and up and up into a long torso and lean shoulders, blanketed by what appeared to be a thick white coat. Pax almost felt dizzy trying to make out the distant details. He took a wobbly step back, and couldn’t contain a soft gasp when those enormous shoulders turned, revealing the creature’s face.

A narrow, pale face scanned the massive trees (although the trees must seem small to him!), whitish skin highlighted by the milky skylight above. Strands of light hair swooped around the creature’s head, forming soft bangs. Enormous lavender eyes glimmered and narrowed.

Aside from its peculiar color palette and unbelievable size, the creature seemed startlingly human.

The iciness in Pax’s body melted into something more electrifying, and his numb legs finally began to move. He took three wobbly steps back, ignoring the continuous flaring of pain in his ankle and the lack of air in his lungs. As humanoid as the creature seemed, Pax didn’t dare to draw its attention. He couldn’t imagine how painful a fate he would endure if those enormous hands closed around him instead of that thick notebook it had clutched between its fingers.

“What the hell,” escaped Pax through gritted teeth, and suddenly he found himself digging his own thin notebook from his nylon pocket. He elected not to grab his voice recorder, considering he didn’t want to speak too loudly and draw this giant’s attention. His (usually neglected) notebook would have to do. 

His tense shoulders pressed into the rough, statue-like tree behind him, and he wobbly began to sketch out a description of the creature in front of him. He barely could tear his gaze away from it, and as his shaky hand flew over the paper he hoped he was doing the creature’s size justice. “What the hell,” he repeated.

This must be the native species of Planet X, then. Was its incredible size normal for this planet? Pax couldn’t deny that the towering trees above him seemed much less out of place next to another massive beast, as sickening as it was to realize.

Was Pax the outlier, then? Was he tiny?

He swallowed thickly, briefly glancing down at his notebook. A wobbly drawing scowled up at him, an embarrassing demonstration of his skills. He let out a frustrated breath, then snapped his green gaze back up to the giant. He watched, stomach freezing over, as the giant moved.

—

Lark twirled his pencil. 

“You are just lovely, aren’t you?” he murmured, lavender gaze traveling over the tree in front of him. In a moment of fondness he reached forward, tracing a thin-fingered hand under the curve of a twisted branch. Several white leaves fluttered. “Beautiful.”

He had been studying botany for four years now, and his love for it had never subsided. His lab director– an elderly, funny woman who always seemed thrilled to see him– had sent him into a deeper part of the woods this morning to retrieve samples of the unique plants there. The gray, rock-like trees fascinated him. As dead as they appeared, the trees thrived, producing beautiful white leaves that fluttered when Lark’s pale finger touched them.

Gently, he plucked a white leaf from the branch, and with his free hand he dug into his satchel. A dozen small glass jars rattled within. As soon as he retrieved an empty one, just barely the length of his finger, he tucked the leaf inside. He hummed pleasantly. Just as Lark tucked the jar away into his satchel, a distant scratching sound drew his attention.

He paused, squinting his lavender eyes as he strained to listen. No other sounds disturbed this side of the forest; the lack of wind made sure of that. The trees were comparable to statues, and as far as Lark could tell, there were no other signs of life here. Had he just imagined it?

…No. Something was producing a faint, rushed, scraping noise.

Lark’s shoulders turned slowly towards where he suspected the noise to be coming from, and as his narrowed gaze scanned the white leaves around him, the scratching noise went silent. Curiosity piquing, Lark tilted his head, waiting– yet, the noise didn’t return. Perhaps he had only imagined it.

He shrugged, content to push the distraction aside. Hoisting his satchel further up onto his straightened shoulders, he focused on his journey forward.

A tiny yet distinct shriek stopped him in his tracks.

Lark had barely taken three steps. Chest tightening in surprise, he dropped his gaze to the forest floor and scanned for the source of the unexpected noise.

For a moment the colorless dirt offered no explanation— then, in a flash of movement, something scrambled away from the smooth curve of Lark’s boot.

“Oh!” Lark’s shoulders tightened, and he instinctively jerked back from the tiny creature. In such a still part of the forest, he hadn’t expected to see a living creature— especially not one so small or fast.

It moved in a white and silver blur, blending into the gray tones of the forest floor. Lark moved his shoulders, and his shadow completely enveloped the small creature. 

He wasn’t inexperienced with small creatures, however, and on pure instinct he lifted his boot and scraped it down into the grayish dirt, directly in front of the creature’s path. Another distinct exclamation escaped it, but it couldn’t stop due to its momentum— and it skidded over the dirt directly into the side of Lark’s boot. 

The creature collapsed, dazed. Lark paused, momentarily concerned that he had injured it, and he took his chance to gently kneel down. The thick material of his pant leg pressed into the dirt.

“Oh,” Lark said again, softer. 

The bipedal creature stared up at him, dark eyes wide. A tiny chest heaved with quick breaths, while a pair of the tiniest hands Lark had ever seen dug into the dirt in a weak, useless effort to scramble away. It couldn’t seem to process that it was trying to escape, torso frozen, unable to tear its gaze away from Lark, who positively towered above it.

“You look like me,” Lark mused, almost to himself. His heart tugged a bit at the creature’s terrified reaction, and although it hurt, he understood. It didn’t seem to have any defense against someone as big as Lark.

Was it a he? Lark leaned closer, and the bone structure of the creature became more defined. A tan face and brown hair visibly trembled. Underneath its thick clothes and shiny gear, the creature seemed to be masculine, Lark assumed. He reached a gloved hand down, cautious of the way the creature yelped and jerked away, and gently brushed his finger against the skinny little arm. No natural defenses, it seemed.

“Here,” Lark murmured, and he scooped the creature up into his palm.

–

Pax couldn’t breathe.

Cold terror struck him, freezing his limbs to the forest floor. The monstrous being had knelt over him, unbelievably massive, blocking out the skylight with its towering shoulders and fluffy hair. Its sheer size sent all of Pax’s logical thoughts out the window.

He couldn’t seem to stop staring up and up and up, unable to tear his gaze away. A finger the size of his entire body had nudged at his arm, and his instincts went haywire, drawing a choked cry from his tight throat. 

“Here,” the being murmured, and for a second Pax’s mushy thoughts cleared just enough to acknowledge that wait, he speaks Exian too–?

–yet, before Pax could process the implications of a shared language between them, an enormous gloved hand closed around him.

A yelp  escaped Pax, sharp and panicked, but the hand didn’t relent. Five fingers, each one surpassing him in size, effortlessly scooped Pax into their overpowering grip. The smooth, leathery material was a harsh contrast to the gravel of the forest floor, and suddenly the juxtaposition brought all of Pax’s instincts rushing back. He thrashed.

The giant offered a soft “oh,” of surprise. Pax’s terror spilled over into his limbs, and he swung as hard as he could, punching and scratching at the gloved fingers. Devastation washed over him as the fingers only tightened, pressing his shaky limbs into his torso. Pax’s racing heart jumped directly into his throat.

“It’s okay,” the giant said, almost apologetically, the way one would speak to an animal. “I’m not gonna hurt you. It’s okay–”

“No!” 

Pax finally choked out a single word, voice breaking, and while the giant jerked back in surprise Pax fell into breathless pleas. 

“Don’t hurt– don’t hurt me, please, just let me go, please, please–!”

He broke off into terrified breaths, blinking hard as tears threatened to spill over. He was appalled that he hadn’t actually started crying yet; perhaps the sheer panic that had overtaken his body had prevented it. Now, as the giant stared down at him through wide lavender eyes, the water in Pax’s vision grew more prominent.

A beat of silence passed. Pax’s throat tightened.

“You–” the giant hesitated, his pale face processing Pax’s words, and in a surge of surprise his gloved fingers snapped open. Pax yelped in surprise as the grip around him subsided, and he crumpled in the center of the giant’s open palm. His heart pounded. “You speak Exian.”

Pax let out a shuddering, terrified sob, and he instinctively jerked back at the giant’s words, staring up at him. Light framed the giant’s head in a halo. “Wh-what?”

There was nothing stopping the giant from flattening Pax completely, or shoving him into the pocket of its lab coat, or tossing him down to the forest floor below. Pax’s imagination seemed particularly creative today, offering scenario after scenario of the different ways this giant could end him. 

This giant could do anything to him. Pax choked on his breath.

“Oh,” the giant said, voice flickering into something concerned. “Oh, please don’t cry.”

His voice completely overpowered Pax, despite how soft it was. Pax scrunched his eyes shut, whipping his face away, preparing for the inevitable.

Another beat of silence passed. Pax was, inexplicably, not killed instantly.

“Here,” the giant said, hushed, and suddenly something pressed into Pax’s arm. The explorer yelped in surprise, eyes snapping open, only to see an enormous, gloved finger rubbing at his shoulder. 

“Don’t—!” Pax jerked away, heart racing, and the giant stiffened.

“I’m sorry,” the giant said quickly. Pax whimpered.

The large finger retreated, and as those lavender eyes flickered with hesitance, Pax took a moment to try and calm his breathing. He scrubbed furiously at his eyes, drawing his knees towards his chest, and desperately tried to ignore the fact that he was currently being held at the mercy of a giant.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the giant assured, worry lacing his tone. Pax couldn’t bear to look at him. “I’ve never seen anyone like you before. You speak Exian? Where are you from?” His voice flickered with something brighter. “This is fascinating. Do you have a name?”

The sudden onslaught of questions made Pax jerk back, a mixture of anxiety and frustration. He swallowed thickly, unable to focus. “What?” The word came out more angry than Pax intended, and he shuddered, dragging a shaky glove over his dirty face. “I’m sorry. I— I’m sorry. Just— just— please put me down.”

His thoughts were a jumbled mess. He couldn’t even attempt to think straight while sitting in this giant’s palm.

The giant tilted his head, apprehension crossing his pale face, and panic tugged at Pax's chest. 

“Will you run away?” The giant asked, worried. Pax lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “I want to know more about you.”

Pax drew his bottom lip between his teeth. Did this giant actually think Pax would be able to run away from him? He held all the power between them— that was obvious, right?

Weakly, Pax shook his head. “No. I just— I just wanna be put down.”

Lavender eyes blinked. “Sorry,” the giant mumbled, suddenly seeming to understand that he was holding Pax captive, and he lowered his hand to the forest floor.

Pax scrambled off the gloved hand before he could think. He let out a choked breath as he crumbled onto the gray dirt, knees digging into the gravel, comfortingly cold and still. “Oh, god.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m…” Pax took several shuddering breaths, then stared up, chest tight.

The giant’s face was… surprisingly soft, gazing down at Pax. His expression held only concern, traced in an innocent curiosity. Nothing malicious.

Pax blinked several times, drawing in a deep breath. The skylight framing the giant’s face reminded him briefly of a halo. 

“I’m okay,” Pax said, hoarsely, and the lavender eyes flickered in relief. “I’m… I’m Pax.”

The giant’s eyebrows knit together, curious. “Pax?”

“That’s my name.”

“Oh!” The giant understood. Pax watched, heart warming, as the giant’s feathers brightened. He couldn’t deny that the giant’s fascination with him was cute, despite being a little anxiety-inducing. “Oh, lovely. Pax. My name is Lark.”

The giant— Lark— shifted, providing Pax with a bit more space, and the explorer only jerked slightly in surprise. “I’m a botanist,” Lark explained, dropping his large hand into his even larger satchel. As he rummaged through what sounded like glass, he continued, “I’m studying these trees.”

He presented an enormous glass jar to Pax, and the explorer tried to hide his flinch. Icy anxiety flickered through his chest, and he tried to ignore the terrifying idea of Lark snatching him up and shoving him into the jar.

Within seconds, however, Pax processed that the jar was filled with a single white leaf. Lark beamed as he addressed the jar, falling into a ramble about the leaf’s pigmentation, and Park’s heart fluttered.

Lark didn’t seem intent on trapping Pax at all. 

He seemed… kind, Pax thought.

“Are you from this planet?” Pax asked in a moment of quiet, voice wobbling, and Lark tilted his head.

“Yes— are you not?”

“Well, no,” Pax responded as he gestured to himself, trying very hard not to add, obviously. “I’m exploring. This is the third planet I’ve arrived to on this side of the asteroid belt, but, um— I’m usually not so small here.”

“You’re an explorer?” Lark repeated, voice bright with fascination. He leaned closer, fluffy hair falling in strands over his eyes, and as he haphazardly shoved it away Pax couldn’t help but let out a shaky laugh. “How wonderful! Where is your home planet? Did you come here on a ship? How long have you been here?”

Pax relaxed his shoulders, heart warm, and he beamed up at the giant. He couldn’t deny the curiosity that they both shared. As terrifying as Lark had seemed at first, he clearly wasn’t intent on hurting Pax. His enthusiasm was honestly adorable.

“Do you want to sit down?” Pax offered, gesturing the giant closer, and Lark beamed. “I think we have a lot to talk about.”

[sweetieviktor]

"salvation", feat. viktor.

summary: you come to his temple and ask the herald to heal you.

word count: 540.

content warning: season 2, arc 2 spoilers!!! please, don't read if you haven't seen the series yet! some descriptions might sound even a bit sexual but this is a sfw work! i just got a bit carried away while writing sensations lol. also, viktor may be a little ooc since im still getting used to him on the new season.

author notes: i rushed this one hehe but its finally complete! i really wanted to write something based on season 2 and the insane amount of people saying things as such "i would join his church wtvr" or "i may believe in god now" made me think why not write this kind of thing happening? so here it is :))))

you heard the rumors spreading through the lanes, there was someone, a “savior”, helping the ones in need – the shimmer addicts, the sick and the dying. and you thought that maybe the herald, as they called him, could save you.

so you walked down the busy streets, passing by empty shops and crowded brothels, finally descending in the dark alleys until light reached your eyes again, revealing a bright environment, made with metal, all with different colors and textures, molded into organic shapes, like it was meant to be like this all along. contorted yet so beautiful. outside the arch separating the commune and the commoners, there were people just like you, asking for help and hoping for his salvation.

a man walked towards you, the white clothing draped around him accentuating the swirly metallic patterns engraved on his body. “if you have something that could possibly harm someone, i must ask you to leave those here. this is a place of peace”, you discarded everything you could think of, emptying all pockets you had and he looked at you with empathy on his eyes, while you left behind everything that you used during your worst times, letting go of a part of your story, letting go of your past self. “now, you shall come. he is expecting you.”

the man walked in front of you, guiding your path between tents full of people, healthy people, all dressed in white. some adults were working while the kids were playing and you were in pure awe, it all seemed so... perfect. a miracle that happened on the underground.

“the herald is waiting, you must go”, he gestured towards a round temple-like structure, tilting his head and leaving you alone shortly after, moving to the arch again.

you followed his words, walking till you reached where the herald was, in fact, waiting for you. flowing hair and royal blue fabric covering his glowing purple skin, all adorned with golden accents. he looked ethereal, almost inhuman, a god-like figure, a saint. the kind of saint that could fix the broken. fix you.

you came closer and he extended his hand in your direction without saying a word – it was not needed, actually –, you could sense his intentions, it was kind of a vibration, radiating off his fingers. he wanted to save you. so, when he touched your forehead, the whole world seemed to fade with a burst of light and all you could do was to feel. feel his cold fingers pressing further in your skin, feel the jolts it sended through your body, the way it ignited something deep inside of you, how you couldn't breathe, the way your veins burned and your heart rate increased, but it didn't hurt at all, instead, you felt alive. the metal fusing with your body, the magic circling both of you, how you could feel him inside of you, changing, morphing and purifying your flesh. it felt like you ascended to heaven and came back different, new, evolved. gloriously evolved.

he pulled back his arm, allowing your body to fall to its knees, and he knelt too, leaning on his staff, looking at you with his emotionless iridescent eyes, “now, you need not suffer anymore.”

[happylittledrabbles]

Please, Daddy

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Nanami Kento

Character Count: ~8,500K

Rating: Explicit, 18+

AO3

It was a lazy spring afternoon, one that mimicked the dead of summer with its humidity and heat. All the windows were open, but that did nothing to abate the torturous conditions inside the classroom. The curtains blowing offered a promise of some respite, but the wind was just as hot and provided no relief from the blazing temperatures.

Nobara held a small fan to her face while Megumi patted his forehead with a handkerchief, neither of which helped their fatigue.

“This sucks!” Yuji groaned, kicking his feet onto the desk and leaning his chair back.

“You’re going to fall over,” Megumi said, to which Yuji rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, if I was an idiot, maybe,” he retorted. Nobara stuck out her foot and tapped the leg of the chair, giving it that last push it needed to send Yuji toppling backwards onto the floor.

“Oops,” was all Nobara had to say as she watched her friend groan and wriggle around on the floor in pain.

“Kugisaki, you asshole!” he shouted. “As if this day couldn’t get any worse.”

Nobara sighed and got out of her seat, walking over to Yuji and kneeling. She placed a finger on her chin in thought before brightening, her grin catching Yuji off guard. “I know what’ll make you feel better. Let’s gossip about our teachers.”

The three of them huddled in a circle on the floor with Nobara going first.

“Kusakabe,” she offered, with the boys looking up to the ceiling in thought.

“I think he has boner problems,” Yuji said, making Nobara and Megumi wince in disgust. But the more they thought about it, the more it made sense.

“Do you think he takes pills for it?” Megumi asked, but Nobara shook her head.

“I think he’s too ashamed. And then he cries whenever he does it because he can’t get it up, and the woman has to comfort him,” she said, although she quickly regretted it as they all cringed at the image.

“Oh, man, let’s move on,” Megumi said, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t think I’ll be able to look at him the same anymore.”

“Let’s do Gojo,” Nobara replied excitedly, to which Megumi swiftly shook his head.

“That’s our main teacher! We have to look at him every day—we can’t do him,” Megumi objected, although it was only half the truth. He already saw Satoru as a father figure, as much as he hated admitting that to himself. He didn’t want to discuss his sex life.

“I think Gojo does hard drugs,” Yuji said, ignoring Megumi’s outburst. “Like, cocaine and stuff. It gets him really wired to do it.”

“Oh, gross,” Megumi whined as he buried his face in his hands.

“What’s gross?”

Speak of the devil. The trio’s heads snapped up as the very man they were gossiping about strode into the classroom, a stack of papers and folders in one hand and a mug that read ‘#1 Teacher’ in the other. He set down his things and placed his hands on his hips as he stared at his students, who were gawking at him as if a curse was eating his face off.

“Hello? Earth to idiots?” he said, snapping in the air to get their attention.

Nobara, ever the quick-witted girl, looked between Megumi and Yuji’s shocked faces and smirked to herself. She had thought of an excuse the second she heard her teacher’s voice, but she liked the idea of messing with all of them better. She cleared her throat and said, “We were gossiping about our teachers.”

“Kugisaki!” Megumi and Yuji’s voices overlapped as they exclaimed in horror, turning their irritation onto her.

However, Satoru wasn’t surprised in the slightest. In fact, he rushed over to the trio and grabbed a chair, turning it backward to sit on it and place his arms on the back of the chair, leaning forward in intrigue. “Oh? One of my favorite conversation topics. Go ahead, shoot. What’d you guys say about me?”

Megumi and Yuji’s faces then morphed into genuine interest as to what Nobara had planned. How was she going to get out of the hole she dug herself?

By answering honestly, of course.

“We said you do hard drugs to do it,” she said matter-of-factly. “Like coke. That really gets you going.”

Satoru stared for a moment, shell-shocked, before dissolving into laughter. He slapped his thigh and hung his head over the chair, the trio laughing along nervously at his strange reaction. Once he finally got ahold of himself, Satoru looked back up and inhaled sharply. “Good guess. What about Nanami?”

“Confirm nor deny. Smart,” Nobara remarked, high-giving her teacher. The boys were less than enthused. However, once she processed Nanami’s name, she barked out a laugh. “Nanami Kento? That guy’s a virgin, one hundred percent.”

“Kugisaki, don’t be mean,” Megumi chastised, but he was the sole objection on that one. Yuji and Nobara fell into bouts of laughter while nodding.

“You’re so right,” Yuji said. “How old is he, forty? No way some straight like him gets anything. Can you imagine him flirting?”

“He’s twenty-seven, and no,” Megumi said with a sigh. He knew he was giving in, but it was true: Nanami didn’t seem to have one romantic bone in his body. He couldn’t even picture him with a woman on his arm—the sight would probably send the three of them into anaphylactic shock.

He watched Nobara and Yuji laughing together before he turned his attention to Satoru, who was staring down at them with an unreadable expression. “You’re awfully quiet, Gojo-sensei. Wouldn’t you know better than all of us about him?”

Satoru choked on his spit at that, coughing into his fist as a prickly blush climbed up his neck and blotched his cheeks. “W-what? Why would you think that? I don’t know Nanami at all like that.”

“You’re both teachers,” Yuji pointed out with a shrug. “Wouldn’t you guys talk in the teacher’s lounge or something?”

Oh, Satoru thought with a sigh of relief. They meant it like that. He visibly relaxed, his shoulders dropping as he played with the bottom of his blindfold. “He’s never mentioned a girlfriend. Or any romantic interest, for that matter. No matter how much I’ve tried seducing him!”

Satoru whined to punctuate the fact that it was a joke to his students, who laughed and pulled disgusted faces at the thought of their beloved teachers kissing. However, Satoru wasn’t telling a joke. He had genuinely tried seducing Nanami on multiple occasions, having had a crush on him since Nanami called him up about becoming a jujutsu sorcerer again and he got to see just how much the blond had grown since they were in school together. The scrawny teen with a terrible haircut he had once known had grown into a muscled, attractive, and stoic man who made people think sinful thoughts just by looking at him.

Satoru could barely believe his eyes, although his pounding heart gave away just what he suspected he was feeling: arousal. He hadn’t felt that sensation in a long time, despite what his students—or anybody, really—thought. Nanami had brought it out of him, and the more he rejected Satoru and treated him terribly, the more Satoru wanted him. Frankly, it turned him on, just how respectable and stable Nanami was. A salaryman who took care of himself, who read and exercised and enjoyed the small things in life. Additionally, the sincere concern he had for his students—for any child—made Satoru want to raise a family with him, a thought he’d never had with anybody, ever.

Nanami was perfect partner material on top of being incredibly sexy. He was perfect. Except for the fact that he hated Satoru’s guts.

“Okay, okay, so Nanami,” Nobara said, pursing her lips together pensively. “I think…he definitely has a hidden kink even though he’s a virgin.”

“I’m going to throw something out there,” Yuji said conspiratorially. “I think he has a daddy kink.”

Satoru’s previous melancholic expression morphed into intense curiosity. He needed all the help he could get, as evidenced by the fact that he was secretly soliciting his students’ help with hopefully romancing Nanami successfully. “You think so? Like, calling people daddy? Or being called that?”

“Being called,” Yuji replied. “No way that guy gives into anybody. He’s as tightly wound as a stretched rubber band. He hates his job, hates being a jujutsu sorcerer, and is a virgin on top of all of that. He’s going to snap at any time.”

The more Yuji spoke, the more Satoru could understand why Nanami was the way that he was. He’d dealt with more trauma than the general population combined, had to submit to his dick boss every day, then deal with more shit in the way of curses. Plus, blue balls would drive any man crazy.

If he needed to snap, so be it—so long as it was with Satoru in the room. And perhaps being called ‘daddy’ would be the driving factor. At that point, Satoru had tried everything. What was one more shot in the dark?

“He’s definitely DILF material,” Nobara said, biting her bottom lip.

Megumi shoved her shoulder so hard that she fell onto the floor in a laughing mess. “You can’t say that about a teacher! You guys are hopeless.”

“DILF?” Satoru asked, tilting his head. “Is this another young person slang word I’m not privy to? You guys make me feel older every day.”

“No way you haven’t heard of DILF,” Yuji said, dumbfounded. “I mean, MILF? It’s just the dad version. Dad I’d like to…you know.”

That woke Satoru up to the fact that he was having this type of conversation with his students, his children. He stood up and swiftly shoved the chair back in its place before taking his place at the front of the classroom.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he said, sorting through his materials to ignore the horrid blush flaming his cheeks. “Let’s begin class.”

When the trio left the classroom after their lesson, Satoru thought back to Yuji’s explanation and chuckled. He had found a way to seduce Nanami. It was far-fetched, but he had exhausted everything else. And he was going to use it.

The only way to get Nanami to hang out with him was to show up wherever he was unexpectedly and follow him around until he relented. Nanami wasn’t exactly rude. He’d speak to Satoru, albeit sparingly. But Satoru couldn’t shake the fact that they weren’t spending time together—he was just following Nanami while he was doing chores.

Not this time. He was going to force Nanami to spend time with him. Which led him to standing on Nanami’s doorstep with a six-pack of beer in one hand and a movie CD in the other.

When Nanami opened the door, he barely got out a ‘hello?’ before his face dropped upon seeing Satoru.

“Don’t look so excited to see me, old pal,” Satoru said, but he couldn’t hide the sharp pain in his chest on his face. Luckily, he had his black blindfold on, which at least hid half his facial expressions. “Surprise! We haven’t hung out in so long, I decided I’d drop by for a movie night.”

“We’ve never hung out,” Nanami said tiredly. Had he been sleeping? He was in sweatpants and a black T-shirt, a casual look Satoru had never seen him in before. It did nothing to hide the lust building in his stomach just at the sight of Nanami. He thought he was attracted to Nanami in suits, but perhaps a simple pair of sweatpants was all he needed to fold over. It did a great job at highlighting Nanami’s crotch, anyhow.

“Well, let’s start now!” Satoru said, pushing past Nanami into his apartment since he knew Nanami would never invite him in. He set the beer on the coffee table in front of the couch before settling on the floor to pop the CD into the player. “I rented us Inception. I heard it’s really good.”

“It is,” Nanami said, shutting the door behind him. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he stared down at Satoru, not moving from the front door. “I’ve watched it. It’s also almost three hours long.”

“Yay, three hours we get to spend together!” Satoru said with a clap. “Come on, sit down, let’s drink.”

“You don’t drink,” Nanami remarked. He glanced up at the ceiling before closing his eyes with a sigh. After running a hand down his face, he relented and walked over, sitting on the floor across the table from Satoru.

“So I don’t,” Satoru said and tried not to show the excitement on his face. Nanami remembered something about him. He knew something about Satoru, something that would only happen if he paid attention to Satoru. “But it’s no matter! I’ll just watch you drink. You can put the rest in your fridge. Call it a housewarming present.”

Nanami took a beer out of the plastic and stared at it, pushing his hair out of his eyes. It was down and slightly wet at the ends from a shower, and Satoru had to look at the floor to prevent himself from blushing anymore at the sight of Nanami with his hair down. He looked so vulnerable, so in his element.

As Nanami regarded the beer can, Satoru took the opportunity to glance around the apartment. He’d never been inside Nanami’s apartment, and it was exactly as he thought it’d be. Everything was tidy and had its place. The apartment itself was humbly small, with what seemed like only one bedroom hidden beyond a slightly ajar door down a hallway. He had a modestly-sized television set on a TV stand full of books and magazines. His kitchen was spotless, and his small dining table had a vase with a blooming bouquet. It was strange and inexplicable how much the normalcy turned Satoru on. After the life he’d lived, all the trauma he’d endured, all he wanted was to settle down someday.

“Thanks,” Nanami said, the sound of the beer fizzling drawing Satoru back into reality. As he watched Nanami take a sip from the can, he realized that he wanted to settle down with Nanami.

“You’re very welcome,” he said. “That’s your favorite brand, right?”

Nanami swallowed and set the can down on the table. His brows raised high on his forehead as he pursed his lips. Finally, he nodded. “Yeah. Thank you, Gojo-san. I’m not sure how you remembered that.”

I remember everything about you, Satoru almost said but caught himself last minute. “I already told you to drop it with the san. Just call me Satoru.”

“Mm,” Nanami hummed indifferently. His eyes drifted to the TV screen before grabbing the remote. “Are you going to make these movie nights a habit?”

Satoru’s heart dropped at that. Did Nanami truly hate him? Had he been so caught up in seducing him that he had been imagining things, that he had ignored all of Nanami’s rebuffs?

He bit his bottom lip and shrugged defeatedly. “I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t like them.”

He watched as the lump in Nanami’s throat bobbed when he swallowed thickly. “I don’t mind them.” He scoffed. “It’s not like I have anything better to do.”

Okay, they were getting somewhere. Satoru didn’t especially like Nanami having to resort to hanging out with him, but they were at least hanging out. He could work with this.

He leaned forward on his hand over the table, smirking at Nanami as the blond desperately tried to avoid eye contact. “Really? You don’t have any dates or anything? A good-looking guy like you—you should be drowning in women, Nanamin.”

The corner of Nanami’s lip curled at the nickname, but he had learned better than to correct Satoru. “No, I’m not,” he replied, although he didn’t seem too broken up about it. “I’m not a playboy like you.”

Satoru took genuine offense to that, slapping a hand to his chest. “Playboy? Playboy! Nanamin, you’ve burned me!”

If only Nanami knew the lengths Satoru had gone to seduce him, how many people he’d rebuffed at the slightest chance of getting in his pants. But he couldn’t say that. Not yet.

“You know, the students were gossiping about you,” Satoru said, reciting the script he’d created prior to knocking on Nanami’s door.

That took Nanami’s attention away from the movie long enough to glance at Satoru. “Oh? What did they say?” He narrowed his eyes. “And how do you know if you weren’t taking part in it?”

Nanami always knew exactly what to say to catch Satoru off guard. He did not expect that in his script. Nanami spoke so little, it seemed impossible for him to go off-script. Lo and behold.

“I just walked in on them speaking about you and demanded them to tell me what they said so I could punish them, I swear!” Satoru cried, but all Nanami did was look back at the movie. “Okay, but I’ll tell you what they said, and you can decide on their punishment after I tell you. They said that…well, that you’re a virgin. Ridiculous, right?”

Nanami’s expression went blank, and his arm shot out for the remote. He paused the movie and turned to Satoru, who stared back at him with an expectant smile. He took another swig of his beer and sighed. “They’ll have to spend thirty extra minutes every day after class cleaning the school for that.”

Satoru’s smile dropped. “But…but, they’re wrong, right?”

Nanami shot Satoru a look before it melted into something different. Something Satoru couldn’t parse. Was it guilt?

“Yes, they’re wrong,” Nanami said then chuckled humorlessly. “Although, I can understand why they think that. I don’t exactly present myself as somebody capable of…that.”

Satoru didn’t like seeing Nanami sad, but seeing him this dejected hurt even worse. This was the exact opposite of what he wanted to happen. He shuffled forward so that he was next to Nanami, giving him a healthy amount of space before placing a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, what’d I say? An attractive guy like you—it makes sense if you get tons of action. But, I mean, I knew I’d find you at home on a Friday night instead of out anywhere.”

Nanami chuckled again, this time more good-naturedly. He ran a hand through his hair, but his hair just flopped back onto his forehead. “You know me too well, Gojo—ah, S-Satoru. That sounds so strange.”

Hearing his first name on Nanami’s tongue was euphoric. He wanted to hear it more. Hearing it made him feel as inebriated as if he had drank the entire pack of beer. It took away all of his inhibitions—the few that he had—and lubricated his lips so that anything and everything he wanted to say spilled out.

“They also said other things,” he continued, giving Nanami’s shoulder a light squeeze. “They called you a DILF.”

“A DILF? What’s that?” Nanami cringed. “Or do I even want to know?”

Satoru tapped his chin to feign thinking. “Hm, I think you do. To, you know, decide the right punishment.” He leaned forward so that he was mere centimeters away from Nanami’s ear before whispering, “Daddy I’d like to fuck.”

He leaned back quickly as if Nanami would strike him, putting his hands up as he laughed. “Crazy, right?”

However, Nanami was silent. He was a statue, his eyes solidly on the floor in front of him. He was so still that Satoru looked to the remote to see if it was a curse that had somehow paused the sorcerer.

“I mean, you’re not even that much older than them, and they’re calling you daddy,” Satoru continued amidst the awkward and unnerving silence. “Daddy. Funny, isn’t it?”

Nanami showed no emotion. Instead, he shot to his feet and turned off the TV. “I think you should go home.”

No. NO. Satoru couldn’t believe what he was seeing. A harmless joke turned into him getting kicked out of Nanami’s apartment. He never thought Nanami would actually kick him out, especially in such a callous way. He floundered for any way to fix the situation, coming up short. Nanami didn’t stick around to wait for Satoru to leave, instead walking away to his bedroom.

There was only one thing Satoru could think of that could stop Nanami in his tracks. It had been the reason why he so callously left, but desperation grew like a mold in Satoru’s chest, leaving him unable to breathe or move until he got what he wanted from Nanami: attention. Validation. Anything that wasn’t him walking to his bedroom, alone.

“Daddy, wait!”

Nanami came to a halt halfway through a step, stuttering forward like an unoiled machine. His back was wide and on full display in that T-shirt, and even underneath it, Satoru could see how tightly he was holding his shoulders, his muscles prominent. He had succeeded in getting Nanami to stop: but why? And now what?

However, that question was quickly answered when Nanami turned slightly, and those sweatpants Satoru had been so in love with gave away exactly what had Nanami rushing away so rapidly. His hand was covering most of it, but the grayness put on full display the prominent shadow of Nanami’s erection. Satoru found himself gawking at it for much too long, and when Nanami cleared his throat, his eyes flickered up to the blond’s face emblazoned with a blush whose color rivaled a tomato.

Oh. So it was true. Nanami did have a daddy kink.

The realization, when it finally hit, felt like a semi-truck had run over him. He had already been recovering from Nanami clarifying that he wasn’t a virgin (who had he had sex with? Who?), but the reveal that a kink that was largely said as a joke was true…it was enough to leave Satoru breathless.

“I really think you should leave,” Nanami mumbled, turning his back to Satoru again as he began to walk toward his room. “I’ve embarrassed myself enough.”

Nanami embarrassing himself was unthinkable. The display had been the opposite of embarrassing: it was incredibly arousing. Then again, everything about Nanami was arousing to Satoru. It was time for Satoru to embarrass himself.

He stood up, nearly passing out from the lack of oxygen in his brain. He hadn’t been breathing properly, and all of the blood in his body had been diverted to his groin. None of his bodily functions were working properly, except for his dick. And all of his best decisions were made when controlled by his dick.

“You haven’t embarrassed yourself, Nanamin,” he said, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “I…I’ve been looking for a way to get you like this for so long. To…be excited. So, it’s okay, daddy.”

He leveled his gaze at Nanami before sliding off his blindfold so that he could see just how serious he was about the situation. His eyelids were heavy with lust as he slowly approached Nanami, his footsteps the only sound in the apartment for several moments. He stopped only a meter away from the sorcerer, sweeping a hand through his hair. “You’ve done the opposite of embarrassing yourself.”

Nanami’s eyes dropped from Satoru’s face down to the sliver of skin revealed as he lifted his arm to his hair. He exhaled shakily before glancing off to the side as any sort of eye contact with Satoru proved too difficult. “You’ve been looking for a way to get me aroused?” Nanami shook his head and scoffed. “I thought you were joking this whole time.”

“What?” Satoru couldn’t believe his ears. He was so shocked that he dropped the sex kitten act, outraged at Nanami’s thick-headedness. “Nanami, how many times did I explicitly ask you on a date? Told you I wanted to spend time with you, kiss you even? What is wrong with you?”

Nanami’s eyes were owlish at Satoru’s exclamations, his mouth agape but with nothing coming out of it. He was rendered silent, watching as Satoru caught his breath from his impromptu bout of shouting. Finally, he swallowed and shook his head. “I thought you were kidding all these years…that you didn’t actually like me…that’s why I never reciprocated. Because if I did, you’d be disgusted that I took you seriously.”

“Like you? Nanami, I’m in love with you.”

The admission caught both Satoru and Nanami off guard. Satoru clapped a hand over his mouth, and Nanami dropped the hand covering his erection. He covered his mouth so that both men were mirroring each other in their surprise. The only thing that got either man to move was when Nanami saw Satoru’s eyes drop to his crotch, which was still tented in his sweatpants and fully visible.

“In love, you say?” Nanami said, his voice dropping several octaves. “What does Satoru in love look like?”

Nanami may as well have been purring in Satoru’s ear with how gravelly his voice had grown. Satoru’s eyes grew dazed with desire, unable to focus on anything except the blond man right in front of him. This was happening. Nanami had reciprocated his feelings, feelings he’d supposedly had for years. That was the downside to being a responsible, stable man: Nanami would never put a relationship on the line because he had romantic feelings, unlike Satoru. If he had, they would’ve been together much earlier. So, they simply had to make up for lost time.

“It looks like this.”

Satoru was on Nanami in a flash, Nanami barely able to blink before he felt a pair of soft, warm lips on his. His hands raised in the air in surprise, but when he sensed Satoru’s arms draping over his shoulders, his fingertips slightly scraping his back, he brought his hands down and ghosted them over Satoru’s hips.

“You can touch me, Nanamin,” Satoru mumbled against his lips before diving back into their ever-deepening kiss.

Nanami found himself clutching Satoru’s hips out of surprise when he felt Satoru’s tongue licking his bottom lip for unspoken permission to enter. Once he gained his bearings, he granted permission by invading Satoru’s mouth first, earning a delicious gasp and moan from him. He found his confidence and massaged his thumbs into Satoru’s hips bones, bringing him closer until their chests were pressed against each other.

“I can feel you,” Satoru said, grinding his crotch against Nanami’s and licking his lips at the deep groan that vibrated in the blond’s throat. He could clearly feel the outline of Nanami’s erection against his thigh, and it only made him that much more dizzyingly aroused. There was nothing that could get him off his high now, except for an earth-shatteringly good orgasm.

He lowered his hand to Nanami’s erection, brushing his knuckles over it before grasping it gently with his full palm.

“A-ah, Gojo-san…” he sighed, his fingertips sinking into the tenderness of Satoru’s hips. “That feels—”

“Good?” Satoru whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of Nanami’s lips. “I want you to feel good, daddy.”

“Jesus,” Nanami exhaled harshly, his hands raising to grip Satoru’s shoulders. “I never thought that would get me this way. But of course, it’s only with you. You always make me this way.”

Only when Nanami’s words echoed in Satoru’s mind did he understand the implications of what he had said. Always. Had he accidentally turned Nanami on some other time? Did Nanami think about him sexually? Did he dream about him? The mere thought of Nanami jerking off to him was enough to have him dropping to his knees, face-to-face with the giant tent in those sweatpants that doubled as lingerie with how sexual they were.

“Gojo-san, wait,” Nanami said, his voice laced with panic. His hands wavered in the air much as they did when Satoru first kissed him before settling one of them on Satoru’s head, his fingers tangling in his hair. “You…you don’t have to do this.”

Satoru almost laughed at the suggestion that he was doing this for Nanami. No, he had dreamed about having that giant cock in his mouth ever since the first time he had seen Nanami’s transformation. After bidding goodbye to him that day, he went home and masturbated furiously at the faraway dream that he be able to fuck Nanami—or rather, get Nanami to fuck him so beautifully that he’d never be able to be satisfied without him. Who could have predicted that that faraway dream would be right in front of him one day?

“I want to,” Satoru said. He’d never been more truthful than in that moment.

He traced the top of the sweatpants’ waistband, glancing up at Nanami for permission. When all Nanami could do was grip Satoru’s hair tighter and stare at him expectantly, Satoru didn’t waste any more time. He took both hands and carefully pulled down the sweatpants, but they hitched on Nanami’s erection with how pronounced it was. The visual left Satoru salivating in anticipation, and when he finally was able to pull the sweatpants over his erection, his breath hitched in his throat when he saw that Nanami didn’t have any underwear on.

“Do you always go commando?” Satoru asked, causing Nanami to cover his face with the hand that wasn’t buried in Satoru’s hair. “Or were you expecting me?”

“When I sleep, yes,” Nanami replied, his voice muffled by his hand. Satoru thought it endearing that he could see the blush trickling down his neck to his shoulders, even blotching the top of his chest peeking out from his shirt. Everything about Nanami was delicious to look at.

“Easier for me,” Satoru said before turning his attention to the very thing he’d been daydreaming about for years.

He gripped the base of it with a hand, but it was so large that it made it look no smaller. It left Satoru somewhat intimidated—if he could barely fit it in his mouth, how would it go inside him? Regardless, it’d have to work. He wasn’t going to be leaving himself or Nanami with blue balls. He would be draining them, hopefully multiple times.

Tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, he gave the head an experimental lick. Nanami groaned at that simple touch, and Satoru peered up at him as he got used to the salty taste of precome on his tongue. His Adam’s apple was prominent in his throat as his head lolled backward, the sight pushing Satoru forward to do more. He needed Nanami lost in pleasure, getting so drunk on sex with him that he wouldn’t regret a second of it when they were done.

He stuck out his tongue and took Nanami’s cock in one fell swoop, getting about halfway down before his gag reflex kicked in. He squeezed his thumb in his fist to abate it, breathing in deeply before continuing his journey down Nanami’s cock. Just when he felt like his dinner was about to come up, his nose nuzzled into Nanami’s neatly trimmed pubic hair, and he stayed there for a moment, enjoying the fullness in his throat and the tightness of Nanami’s grip on his hair, his scalp burning, before drawing away and coughing to the side. He inhaled sharply as he jerked Nanami off with all the new saliva coating his cock, leading to lasciviously wet sounds echoing alongside Nanami’s sinful groans.

“You’re incredible,” Nanami murmured, his hand trailing to Satoru’s chin and tipping it up.

He wiped away a trail of spit before his thumb rested on Satoru’s bottom lip, swiping alongside it. His eyes twinkled with fascination when Satoru opened it obediently, those eyes of diamonds settling on him with such a heated gaze, it had his cock twitching. Experimentally, he pushed his thumb into Satoru’s mouth, pressing down on his tongue with curiosity. He sucked in a sharp breath when Satoru’s tongue enveloped his thumb and gave it a warm welcome, bringing his lips around it and sucking on it dutifully.

“Did you learn this somewhere?” Nanami asked, although he quickly found that he didn’t want to know the answer.

“No,” Satoru replied, leaving Nanami at ease. “You made me this way, daddy.”

“Oh, you little minx,” Nanami said, but he couldn’t hide the groan or weakness in his knees when Satoru returned to giving his cock the royal treatment.

Satoru polished the cock as if it were his last meal, making sure no part was left unattended. A string of saliva hung from his chin as he bobbed his head back and forth, stroking the parts he couldn’t reach—which with the size of Nanami’s cock, were significant. He groaned with each tug Nanami gave his hair, his voice vibrating around the cock, which then had Nanami groaning and tugging more in response. It was a brutal pleasure loop that had Nanami slightly bucking his hips forward into the warm hole surrounding his cock, much to Satoru’s delight.

Satoru popped off Nanami’s cock, keeping it warm with both of his hands as he stared up at Nanami. “You can fuck my mouth, you know,” he said, opening his mouth to reveal his perfectly pink tongue and inviting throat. “Don’t be scared, daddy.”

Each time Satoru used the pet name, it sent rivulets of electricity down Nanami’s spine. He didn’t know when he first developed this kink—all he knew was that he found himself clicking on a gay porn video with a man whose body looked just like Satoru, and he called out ‘daddy’ over and over to the hunk of a man fucking him into the mattress. Ever since then, he searched high and low for videos of men crying out ‘daddy,’ men who all resembled Satoru in one way or another.

The second he heard Satoru use it for the first time only twenty minutes ago, he thought he was hallucinating. He thought that somehow the beer he drank was poisoned or laced with magic mushrooms, anything that would make more sense than Satoru Gojo calling him daddy. But then he said it again, and again. And again.

And now that Satoru was on his knees, sucking his cock so prettily with those flushed cheeks on pale skin and cherry-red lips stretched around his girth, calling him daddy in that wonderfully low, hoarse voice, it took everything inside Nanami not to pull out his phone and record. This was infinitely better than any video he had watched previously. No, there was no competition. He would never watch another porno again now that he had Satoru in the palm of his hand.

Or rather, on his cock.

“You asked for it,” he said, a deep growl in his throat as he fortified his grip on Satoru’s hair and slowly drove his hips further into his mouth. “S-shit…”

Satoru moaned around Nanami’s cock again at the sound of Nanami cursing, something he hardly did. But he was making him feel so good that he couldn’t help but let a curse slip. It was invigorating.

Nanami soon picked up speed, bucking his hips forward into Satoru’s mouth and down his throat. He felt himself falling into pleasure-fueled hysteria, no longer able to control his hips as he thrust into his mouth with full force, feeling Satoru’s nose bump against his lower stomach each time. The wet squelching sounds coming from Satoru’s throat were downright salacious, and his face and Nanami’s cock were a mess of precome and spit. Satoru raised trembling hands before setting them on Nanami’s thighs, sinking his fingertips into his quads and leaving behind crescent-shaped tattoos.

“F-fuck, I’m close, Satoru,” Nanami gasped, throwing his head back as he continued using Satoru’s head like a fleshlight. “Let me just pull ou—”

Hearing his name in Nanami’s mouth made Satoru go as crazy as Nanami did over being called daddy. He wanted nothing less than for Nanami to leave his mouth empty. His throat was rubbed raw, and he’d been fighting his gag reflex with every fiber of his being, but the pain hardly compared to the orgasmic pleasure he was feeling in his groin. So, he moved his hands to Nanami’s ass and pushed him forward so he had no choice but to stay inside Satoru’s mouth.

“S-Satoru—! If you do that, I’m going to…ngh…coming!”

Satoru’s eyes rolled up into his head as the combination of his scalp burning from Nanami’s tight hold on his hair and the semen pouring down his throat hit him. He was finally tasting Nanami’s semen, and while it certainly wasn’t creme brûlée, it was everything he had dreamed about and more. Satoru was certainly a playboy before he got attached to Nanami, but Nanami had thoroughly turned him into a downright whore.

After gulping down what felt like multiple loads of semen, Satoru slowly slid off Nanami’s cock with a pop and wiped away the mess of come and spit mixing on his chin and down his neck. His eyes were bloodshot, his eyelashes glued together from tears that streamed down his cheeks. The more Nanami gazed down at him, the more he felt himself grow harder again despite orgasming only a minute ago.

He reached down and wiped a stray tear away from Satoru’s cheek before bringing it up to his mouth and licking it.

“How many people have you practiced that with?” he asked, although he didn’t want to know the real answer. Satoru knew to play along, and he loved that about him.

“Nobody, daddy,” Satoru said, rising to his feet and pressing his chest against Nanami’s. “I promise.”

“You—fuck.” Nanami couldn’t help the breathless curse that left his lips. He gave Satoru a once-over, taking in his cotton sweater and black slacks, before grabbing him by the neck and tossing him onto the sofa. He loved looking at Satoru clothed, but at that moment, he needed him naked, and fast. “You showered before this, right?”

“Yes…” Satoru trailed off as he watched with poorly concealed excitement as Nanami undid his jeans and ripped them off in one fell swoop, leaving him in his special briefs. They bordered on women’s underwear with how small they were, but they were white cotton, still having that masculine edge while poorly hiding his weeping erection. He had nearly orgasmed just from having Nanami’s cock stretching his throat, and the evidence was plain as day looking at his briefs.

“I…I also prepped,” Satoru said sheepishly, his hand trailing between his legs. “You don’t have to do anything. You can just…fuck me.”

He pressed a finger to his hole, still clothed by his briefs. He stifled a gasp, remembering how thoroughly he fingered himself in the shower before walking over to Nanami’s. He knew Nanami had a big cock, just by the virtue of his being—but seeing it in person was something else. Insecurity sunk in as he realized he may not have been as prepped as needed.

Luckily, Nanami didn’t think Satoru prepping himself was enough. He needed to take it upon himself to pleasure his partner back, the partner he had yearned after for so long and who was now indulging in his most embarrassing kink.

“Come here,” Nanami commanded, grabbing Satoru’s hips and pulling him down. He then raised Satoru’s hips up into the air so that his ass was flush with his face. He licked a line from Satoru’s clothed cock down to his ass, pressing his tongue into the fabric until he could feel the throbbing hole lying past that thin barrier.

“A-ah, daddy, wait! That feels—hah…”

“Good?” Nanami asked, echoing Satoru’s previous purr. “So you knew that we’d be doing this tonight. Did you come over fully intending on seducing me?”

Satoru covered his face with a forearm, but his blush radiated past that. “Yeah, I did. Does that make you…disgusted?”

“Disgusted?” Nanami sounded appalled just at the thought of being disgusted that the man he’d been in love with for so long had wanted to have sex with him so badly he prepped himself before forcing himself into his coworker’s apartment, prepared to put his feelings on the table and their relationship on the line. Luckily for Nanami, Satoru was a bold motherfucker.

“It makes me want to eat you up,” he finished before pulling the briefs aside and diving into Satoru’s heat. He kissed a trail from Satoru’s balls down his perineum and finally, while listening to the symphony that was Satoru’s moans, licked the hole he’d be using and abusing very, very soon.

“Yes, yes! Fuck, that feels so…ngh, good…” Satoru couldn’t help embarrassing himself over and over, and Nanami’s neighbors would certainly hate him after that night. But he had dreamed about this moment for so long that he couldn’t help being overdramatic, couldn’t help wanting to let Nanami know how truly grateful and excited he was to have his coworker eating him out.

Nanami licked and sucked, trailing a hand to Satoru’s cock to stroke him there, too. He pressed a thumb into the head of his cock as he slid his tongue inside him, driving Satoru wild. He watched from his peripheral vision as one of Satoru’s hands gripped the bedsheets while the other came to rest on Nanami’s head, gripping his hair in much the same way as Nanami did with him.

“I’m close, daddy, I’m close,” Satoru breathed, his eyes fluttering closed to process his pleasure. However, he didn’t want the night to end like this. He opened an eye and peered around his hips in the air to see Nanami’s cock standing at attention as if he hadn’t just orgasmed a few minutes ago. After all the excitement that night, Satoru wasn’t sure if he’d be able to keep going after one orgasm—and he wasn’t about to leave Nanami unattended.

“Daddy, fuck me. Fuck me, please. Now.” He wasn’t pleading anymore. He was demanding.

Nanami lifted his head from between Satoru’s legs, savoring the heat of his now-lover’s thighs pressed against his ears. He turned his head and sunk his teeth into the soft inner flesh of Satoru’s thigh, eliciting a yelp from the other as Nanami licked around the bite to seal the deal.

“Are you sure?” he murmured against Satoru’s thigh while gazing at him. “I don’t think I’ll be able to hold back.”

Satoru reached down to his discarded pants on the floor and rifled through one of the pockets, bringing out a condom. Or, what looked like just one condom, before he let the entire roll of about six condoms drop down.

He smirked as he watched Nanami’s face fall. “I’m hoping you don’t.”

He winked as he tossed the stack to Nanami, who set down Satoru’s hips in favor of ripping a single condom packet away from the stack. An entire stack; Satoru couldn’t be serious. But as Nanami swung his gaze back over to the sorcerer, he realized that his playboy label was still true—his sights were set solely on Nanami at that moment. He was insatiable, as evidenced by him spreading his pretty, slender legs dusted with pink blush and a deep bite mark, knowing full well what that would unlock inside Nanami.

“You’re a drug, Satoru Gojo,” Nanami mumbled. “Not only prepping yourself, but keeping an entire roll of condoms…you are one conniving bastard.”

Saying his senior’s full name without honorifics and calling him names were still strange to him. But when he saw how Satoru’s cock twitched after what he said, he realized just how much of a turn-on either saying his name or being called names could be. Perfect.

“Then come have me,” Satoru said, holding out his arms as he watched Nanami tear a condom wrapper and slide it onto his cock. “However many times you like.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” Nanami said, guiding his cock to Satoru’s entrance and pressing the head to the rim. Just that small touch had both men breathless, their chests rising and falling erratically to compensate.

“I love games,” was all that Satoru could reply with before Nanami pushed inside. The next thing that came out of Satoru’s mouth was a whiny moan, his trembling legs crossing behind Nanami’s back and pushing him even further inside him.

“Gojo-sa—nn…you’re tight,” Nanami breathed, his arms faltering in their hold on the couch. He nearly collapsed on top of Satoru but managed to keep himself up, one of his arms gripping one of the couch pillows while the other drifted to Satoru's thigh. He ran his fingers up and down that trembling thigh, raking his fingertips until they created light red trails on his pallid skin.

“F-feels…feels so good, daddy,” Satoru said, his voice hitching in his throat with how much every synapse in his body was on fire. It hurt, the stretching sensation from Nanami’s large cock making Satoru bite his lip. But the sheer pleasure he felt from finally being connected to Nanami, to know how his most intimate region felt inside him, to know the face Nanami made when he orgasmed…the pain was secondary. “More…harder, please.”

Nanami wanted to do more. God, how he wanted to fuck Satoru senseless until he could no longer speak and anything that came out of his mouth were whimpers. But he wanted to admire his lover first, wanted to take in his first time with the man he’d been in love with for years.

He slowly trailed his hands underneath Satoru’s sweater, pushing it up so that those pretty pink nipples he’d seen whenever they’d change in gym class or go to onsens together and had dreamed about. With a final push that fully buried his cock inside Satoru, he leaned over and took one of Satoru’s nipples between his teeth. His ears pricked at the sound of Satoru’s sweet gasp, and he dove in for more, sucking on the entire nipple while rolling the other between his fingers.

“There is…too much…” Satoru couldn’t object even if he tried. The stretching of his hole, the tickling sensation of his nipples sending ripples throughout his body, Nanami’s heat draped over him, everything amassed into a wave that crested and crashed over Satoru when Nanami bit his nipple again. “Too much! C-com—”

Satoru barely finished his sentence before semen spurted from his cock and painted his stomach white. His walls clamped down completely onto Nanami’s cock, causing him to groan and leaving any sort of movement impossible. Not that he wanted to move anyway—he wanted nothing more than to watch Satoru in the throes of an orgasm so powerful, his entire body went still before breaking out into shakes. His back arched off the bed and his legs squeezed Nanami’s waist so hard, he’d surely have bruises the next day.

Everything about Satoru was delectable. The more Nanami looked, the more he saw Satoru’s body as sweet: his nipples were strawberry-pink, his hole cherry-red, his skin milk-white.

“Are you alright, Gojo-san?” he asked sincerely once Satoru seemed to calm down, his chest rising and falling desperately to compensate for the lack of oxygen to his brain. He splayed a hand over Satoru’s chest, but the poor man was so oversensitive that he flinched away at the feather-like touch.

“F-fuck,” he sighed, his eyes fluttering closed as he flung a forearm over his face. “That was…fuck.”

“You orgasmed after I barely put it in,” Nanami remarked, his eyes falling to Satoru’s nipples. “And after I played with you here for a few seconds.”

His hand came to rest over one of Satoru’s pecs, his fingers bumping against the abused nipple and making Satoru squirm underneath him. His eyes flickered back to Satoru’s face with an uncharacteristic smirk.

“You’re in for a long night, Satoru.”

Without another warning, he pulled out, leaving Satoru breathless, before slamming inside him, digging his fingers into Satoru’s waist.

“Fuck! Ah, daddy—it’s too much…” Satoru cried, his arms flailing in the air before coming to rest on Nanami’s shoulders.

Nanami leaned in slightly to make it easier for Satoru to hold onto him. “I thought you wanted more.”

Satoru pouted silently and turned his face away, but his pouting only lasted for a few seconds before Nanami thrust into him brutally again, enough for the wind to be knocked out of him. Except this time, Nanami gave him no breathing room, instead striking up a rhythm that had Satoru gasping for air with each thrust.

“Oh—ngh! Yes, yes, more…daddy…!” The new pet name settled over each man like an aphrodisiac, leaving Satoru hard again and Nanami throbbing inside his lover.

The combination of Satoru’s walls hugging him as if they never wanted to let go, Satoru’s moans, and Satoru’s beautiful expressions were enough to have Nanami fighting the crest of an orgasm from crashing over him. His rhythm gave him enough pleasure to leave his entire body buzzing, but it was punishing and left him racing to the finish. He was fucking into Satoru hard and fast, each thrust sending the couch a few centimeters to the right, the legs scraping against the floor. His fingers were already leaving bruises on Satoru’s svelte waist, and his thighs were littered with marks.

In the few seconds Nanami had left before he succumbed to orgasm, he leaned over and sunk his teeth into the tender flesh of Satoru’s neck, savoring the small cry Satoru let out. A shiver rattled each of Nanami’s vertebrae at the sensation of Satoru raking his fingernails down his back desperately as if he was hanging on for dear life. After releasing the bite and licking it as a silent apology, he turned his attention to Satoru’s ear, licking the shell of it and drawing out another weepy cry from his lover.

“I love you, too, Satoru,” he whispered and smiled to himself when those three words seemed to lead to Satoru’s second orgasm of the night.

But Satoru wasn’t orgasming alone. Nanami was right behind him, his hand shooting out to grip the couch’s arm for support as he slammed into Satoru once, twice, before filling the condom to the brim. He let out a shaky groan, his eyes squeezing shut tightly enough for white stars to break out in his vision.

“I feel it…I feel you,” Satoru whispered, his fingers releasing their hold on Nanami’s back and replacing it with a feather-like touch as he traced shapes into his skin. “Inside me. When was the last time you…”

Satoru swallowed thickly, thoroughly exhausted after his orgasms—the second of which ended up being completely dry. Nanami made him feel so good that his body couldn’t even keep up with semen production to go along with his orgasms. It made Satoru’s eyes drift to the roll of condoms and wonder how many more Nanami could fill up.

“A long, long time,” Nanami replied, slowly opening his eyes after what felt like eons.

His vision was bright at first before adjusting to the living room light. Once his eyes adjusted, he lowered them to his lover and was met with Satoru’s magnificent eyes staring up at him expectantly. He hadn’t masturbated in a few weeks at least, having been too busy with work, curses, and teaching to sit down and watch porn. Besides, he’d exhausted his specific niche of Satoru-lookalikes crying out daddy, and he couldn’t get off to any other video. Satoru had captured not only Nanami’s heart but also his attention. Nobody else was comparable to his Satoru Gojo.

“Well,” Satoru said, his hand moving to the back of Nanami’s neck to bring him down for a kiss. After a shallow kiss, he rested his forehead against Nanami’s and smiled. “Prepare to do it again. And again.”

Nanami’s eyes shifted to the condoms. “Now?”

Satoru licked his lips. “Now, daddy.”

Nanami asked no more questions after that.

[jjenthusee]

Where We Are

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: honestly this has been marinating in my mind for a while because a while ago I saw @sunnie-angel post this small writing (linked here) and I wanted to write something for it, but I haven’t gotten to sit down and complete something :( BUT i finally sat down and wrote because i needed something as a break from my end of semester stress from school :D i would also recommend reading the linked post first so it gives some context and insight to why i was so drawn to it and how it heavily inspired this fic. ENJOY and like, comment if your comfortable 💐

Summary: How do you live with the memories of Jason after his death as Robin?

Tags: AAAANGST, have a nice day :)

Word Count: 1.6k

A boy.

Full of so much life and raw emotion, who stood against the worst of Gotham.

He saw so much of its poison. It struck him, filled his veins, but he fought every day against the pain. Only when he finally left did Gotham return its thanks.

Everyday was torture. The memorials, the photographs, the graffiti. Streets littered with “We remember you.” Every waking second was a reminder that he was gone.

No more late night chats, meeting at the library, leaning against his shoulder.

You can still taste the bile that consumed your throat when you opened your door to Alfred standing there with the most chilling expression. Once he said your name in such a matter-of-fact tone, you knew. Your heart ached the same way it did when your thoughts brought you back to your worst fears, maybe it ached worse but that memory is buried in the back of your mind.

You slammed the door on Alfred. Grabbing your phone, calling one of the most recent phone numbers in your call history. It rang and rang. Nothing.

You left voicemail after voicemail. Begging, yelling, crying into the ending message to pick up.

You couldn’t walk down the road that led to the same library you spent all summer with him. The humid air beating down on you before the air conditioning sent a chill down your back. Scanning your library cards, returning books, letting Jason give you recommendations.

The memory made your eyes water.

You did everything to avoid it all.

Taking the longer path to school, playing music in your ears loud enough to drown out the passerby’s conversations about how tragic such a thing could happen to a young boy, avoiding any sort of color that matched the suit he was so proud of.

The same one that took him.

The more you avoided, the more the image of him chased you. Billboards, coffee cups, baseball caps. Robin was everywhere.

Until you saw a memorial video that some Gothamite made on social media.

It broke you one more time.

You screamed and screamed until your voice couldn’t. He was gone. Your Jason was truly gone.

You couldn’t get mad at him cheating at board games, you wouldn’t hear his laugh, no more asking him to drop off food while he was on patrol.

The world took the other half that completed you.

When the pain numbed out and you felt the guilt of your actions, you apologized to Alfred. You got back on track for school, the world wasn’t better, but it didn’t weigh on you as much.

You finally took a walk down the road you didn’t dare look down. You held your breath when you crossed over the invisible line, taking you down a familiar path, but with only one pair of shoes on the sidewalk this time.

You walked with your hands clenched, before you found yourself in front of one of the small memorial stands. A tiny Robin keychain stared back at you. You paid the seller with cash and continued on your walk.

The air hung heavy in your lungs as you stopped. Coming face to face with Jason’s favorite gargoyle that sat in front of the library steps. You fought the tears with lowered eyebrows and a stiff expression to place the key chain on the base of the statue. You grabbed a permanent marker out of your bag to write in big bold letters, “We Remember You.”

It was sloppy writing, but it captured your unrelenting, unapologetic emotions that Jason had always told you was why he loved being your friend.

As the weeks went by, more tiny Robins appeared on the gargoyle. Flowers were placed and you finally listened to the city mourn your friend.

Eventually you graduated, took a job at the library because you didn’t know anything about your future into being a young adult. Life was simple, it was enough.

You finally felt some stability on the anniversary of Jason’s death before you heard talk of a new Robin. That a replacement had been made.

You were at a rage again.

When times were too tough or when you just didn’t know how to handle yourself, you called Jason’s phone. Leaving voicemails admitting how much you missed him, how mad you were that he couldn’t even wait until you were able to beat how many books he checked out at the library, now it wasn’t fair to continue the competition by yourself. How mad you were that they didn’t retire the Robin suit after he sacrificed everything for it.

You didn’t even question how his phone line was still running as long as you could leave more voicemails.

When your rage started to cool, you joined Alfred one morning while the cold air chilled your face. Alfred handed you a hot tea that you refused to take, but Alfred always managed to get his way. It brought a smile to your face when you realized Jason used to do the same thing.

You walked with him down your familiar path to work. Before Alfred could say anything, your body unconsciously walked up to a new park bench. It wasn’t worn, but freshly placed with a shiny plaque that you couldn’t move your eyes from.

“In memory of Jason Todd-Wayne, a son who is loved as much as he loved books.” You quietly read.

You couldn’t move. You didn’t say anything to Alfred as he handed you a handkerchief when you felt the tears drop down your chin. The two of you just stood there, admiring the wood, the brass, and the memories.

When Alfred said his goodbyes, you stayed there. Afraid to sit down, but afraid to leave.

You spent the following anniversary standing next to the bench, next to the one place that was so precious to your childhood. The fear prevented you from taking a seat.

By the next anniversary, you managed to sit on the bench. Alfred visited again, shining the plaque and wiping down the park bench. You didn’t say much, but it was comfortable and breathing wasn’t that difficult that year.

By the most recent anniversary, you were starting to spend every important milestone at Jason’s bench. When you got your degree in library science, you sat with your cap and gown. When you got a job promotion at the library, you came to sit and watch the sunset.

Life was content as you passed Jason’s bench and gargoyle on your way to and from work. It was a part of you.

One late night as you locked up the library, making sure all the part-timers and volunteers made their way out safely and secured the doors, you said goodbye to your coworkers as you made your way down the worn steps.

Your feet ached from the new shoes that didn’t support you enough, but your walk back to your apartment would be short to endure the pain. The fatigue could wait until you walked through the front door.

You trudged through the familiar path, passing the same trees, shops, gargoyle. Fifteen paces, another thirty, but you couldn’t continue to count your steps when you saw someone facing Jason’s bench.

A tall man, large build, covered in a large hoodie with the hood raised. Only a couple strands of hair stuck out the opening, but you couldn’t see a clear face.

It was eerie how still the figure was, the small fog of breaths were the only indicator that the person was living.

You quickly moved to the edge of the sidewalk as you distanced yourself from the large man. You held your breath as you briskly walked passed, but a small ache hit your chest. A tiny feeling, so minuscule that you tried to talk yourself into not looking back.

Why would you do that late at night in Gotham?

Two paces, five paces. You paused and turned your head over your shoulder.

They were gone. Only a clear yellow street light shining down on Jason’s bench.

Weird.

But you weren’t going to find out what that was. You paced back to your apartment, throwing your jacket off, letting your aching muscles relax on the couch. You sighed as you couldn’t get the figure out of your head.

By the morning, you woke up early to get some breakfast on your way to work. A quick drink and some food to help give you some energy. You said ‘Good morning’ to the owners, passed by other early commuters.

You held your warm drink, breathing in morning air and taking your breakfast to-go, until you sat at Jason’s bench. It had been a while since you got to enjoy a meal there.

You sat, listening to the birds, seeing morning joggers pass, kids making their way to school, and you finished your meal. You got up to throw your trash away and took one last glance at the plaque.

You memorized the phrase engraved on there, but still took the time to read through every word. You took your hand out of your warm jacket pocket and felt your hand graze over the cold brass, your fingers feeling the grooves and the strict maintenance courtesy of Alfred.

In one last sigh, you turned to get to work, tapping the base of the gargoyle before the steps, happily humming to the calm start to your morning. Then another ache hit you just before your last step.

You turned around, but all the people hanging around the block were further away, enjoying the company of others or taking a stroll. You glanced around, unsure of what you were looking for.

But your search was interrupted by the cheerful voice of your coworker making his way up the steps.

You pushed down the feeling of the unknown, but some days you always felt like maybe Jason was with you, maybe from his bench built in his memory or the fact that this place was important to the two of you, but you always knew you were going to carry a portion of Jason with you.

In some comforting way, you told yourself that maybe your Jason never left.

[starrihan]

Little Black Dress (Beomgyu Fic)

-> Pairing: Beomgyu x afab! Reader

-> Plot: You don’t have a crush on Choi Beomgyu… so why are you getting ready to see him at a party?

-> Genre: smut, college student! Beomgyu x college student! Reader, dom! Beomgyu, sub! Reader, fingering, piv sex, doggy, no protection (wrap it up), both reader and beomgyu are drunk,

-> Ft. Belle from Kiss of Life and Soobin (he catches some strays, sorry)

-> Warnings: none

-> Word Count: 2,709

-> Notes: I just wanna thank you guys again for getting my leehan fic to 35 notes in 3 days like that’s actually crazy to me! I hope you enjoy this little fic! Also I did not proofread this but I wanted to get it out today please excuse any mistakes in spelling thank you!

-> Fun fact: Beomgyu is my ult bias and TXT is my ult group

༄ ༄ ༄

It was embarrassing enough that you wanted his attention. It was even more embarrassing the lengths you’d go to get that attention. When it boiled down to it, Choi Beomgyu was the root of all your problems. If it wasn’t for Choi Beomgyu, you would’ve won the 7th grade science fair. If it wasn’t for Choi Beomgyu, you would’ve been valedictorian of your high school. If it wasn’t for Choi Beomgyu, you wouldn’t be scrambling to get ready for this party right now.

It was the last party you would attend before finals week and you knew Beomgyu would be there. You curse yourself for letting it get to this point. Beomgyu was always better than you, always one step ahead of you.

You don’t know what you were trying to achieve by dressing up and looking hot at this party, but you didn’t care. You just wanted Beomgyu to think of you as anything other than a nerd who wasn’t even as smart as him. With your makeup done, you turn to find an outfit.

“Which dress do you think looks better?”

You turn to your roommate, Belle. Holding up a short, silky, dark blue dress in the left hand and a long sleeved, short, strappy black dress in the right.

“The blue one looks cute and comfortable. But if you want Beomgyu to fuck you, I say go with the black one.”

“I do not want Beomgyu to fuck me”

You said, rolling your eyes at her, but still going with the black dress anyways. You didn’t want to come to terms with the fact that you did, ever so slightly, have a crush on Beomgyu. You knew for a while, since high school, when he started dressing better and grew into his face more. It became lustful when you got to college as he grew taller than you had expected and he was very lean, his long black wolf cut and blonde highlights the subject of many sleepless nights for you. You shook your head at the thought and put on the black dress, while Belle took the blue one you didn’t choose to wear. After pregaming with 2 shots, you felt good enough to start walking over to the party. Being a lightweight, 2 shots was enough to have you feeling buzzed. You quickly grabbed your things, keys, purse, phone, and headed out.

༄ ༄ ༄

Upon arriving at the party, you see your friends Kai and Taehyun. You go over with Belle to greet them. When they notice you guys coming up to them, they pull you into hugs.

“Hey guys! Finally you’re here!” Kai says, laughing.

“I was ready, it was Y/N that took her time.”

“It’s the last party of the semester, forgive me for wanting to look nice.” you retort.

“Alright, alright, enough with this. Wanna grab a drink? Me and Kai just finished our cups”

Taehyun says, breaking up your little argument. You both nod and follow them to the kitchen that the drinks were in. After taking another shot, you decided to just chill with your little group for now, saying hello to some other friends here and there.

༄ ༄ ༄

A little while later, 5 shots in, you start feeling a little drunk, and decide to drag Belle and your friends to the little group of people dancing in the middle of the living room. It’s as you’re dancing with Belle that you catch a glimpse of Beomgyu, who was looking straight at you. A smirk finds its way onto his face, knowing he’s been caught looking at you, but he doesn’t look away. It’s then that you notice your cheeks feeling hot, though you don’t know if it’s from the alcohol or if it was because you were blushing under his gaze.

Beomgyu always had a little crush on you. Ever since elementary school where he first saw you. He was always too shy to say anything to you though, always opting to hang out with his friends rather than go up and talk to you. When he got that first grade back that was better than yours, he saw how you sulked and felt bad. He wanted to apologize but it seemed that you had gotten over it rather quickly, so he didn’t feel the need to do so. As the years went by, he could tell that the better he got, the more furious it made you. He liked the attention it brought to him from you, always telling him how you’d do better than him on the next test, even though you never did. He felt that, even though you hated him– or so he thought– that the negative attention it brought him was better than potentially getting rejected by you, so he opted for teasing you about his better grades instead, always making it a point to study harder than you to get those good grades. And the way you were shying away from his stare right now had his chest swelling with pride.

“I have to use the bathroom,”

He ripped his eyes away from you, glaring at his best friend, Soobin, for having the bladder of a hamster.

“You’ve only had 3 drinks dude.”

“I can’t help it! The bathroom door doesn’t lock, I need you to stand outside and make sure no one comes in while I pee!”

He groaned at the taller male, ultimately following him to the bathroom and waiting outside the door for him. Beomgyu was only slightly drunk, but he could feel the effects of the 4 drinks he had starting to kick in. A couple minutes later, Soobin came stumbling out of the bathroom.

“Damn dude are you alright?” Beomgyu asked, concerned for his best friend.

“Yeah, I’m alright. Do you need to go? I’ll wait for you out here.”

Beomgyu nodded, taking the opportunity to use the bathroom before Soobin got too drunk. The time this happened, he had to carry Soobin home on his shoulders while holding his pee in. He did not want to go through that again. As he was washing his hands, he didn’t expect you to come stumbling into the bathroom.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were in here, I’m sorry,” you said, your words slightly slurred, about to leave before his next comment made your ears perk up. He scoffed,

“Dumber than me and no common courtesy? I should’ve figured”

“Excuse me?”

You turned around on your heel, hoping he didn’t actually say what you had heard. Figuring that Soobin probably forgot that he was supposed to stand outside the door and decided to walk off, he looks up at you.

“Who walks into the bathroom without knocking? The door was closed.”

“Why didn’t you lock the door then?”

“Locks broken. I had Soobin waiting outside for me but I guess he left.”

“He probably couldn’t stand your insufferable ass anyways.”

He looks at you with an amused expression on his face. He walks closer to you, kicking the door close behind you in the process. He leans into your ear,

“I’m insufferable?”

He lets out a small chuckle, the close proximity of his mouth to your ear sending shivers down your spine.

“Y-yes. Yes, Choi Beomgyu, you’re insufferable.”

“God, I love it when you say my full name.”

All while he’s breathing into your ear. He smirks as your stutter, knowing that his stance is getting to you. You can’t help the arousal that’s pooling between your thighs right now, the way he’s talking into your ear has you rubbing them together slowly.

“Can you get out? I want to use the bathroom,”

You say, trying to move away from him. Unfortunately, the small bathroom didn’t provide much room for you to move, trapped between the door and the sink, and Beomgyu of course.

“Admit that you want me, and I’ll leave.”

This time, he moved his face away from your ear and looked at you face-to-face, his mere inches apart from yours.

“I’m not gonna admit something that isn’t true. Now move.”

You try your hardest to sound as commanding as possible, but to no avail. Your voice comes out broken, the effect of the alcohol in your system on display.

“Oh yeah? Then why are you rubbing your thighs together like you need me?”

You didn’t know what to say and instead avoided his gaze. He takes his hand and holds your jaw lightly, having you face him.

“Say you don’t want me right now and I’ll get out. I promise.”

But you don’t say anything. You don’t want to admit that you want him but the ache in your core is telling you otherwise. Your eyes are pleading with him, hoping that he won’t force you to say it and will just fuck you instead. He gets the memo, releasing your jaw from his hold, moving both his hands down to your waist to pull you in for a kiss. Your arms instantly wrap around his neck.

The kiss is hungry, your moans coming out immediately at the contact. He takes this opportunity to gently slide his tongue into your mouth. You slightly tug on his long hair, causing him to bite your lip as he pulls away.

“I like when you pull my hair.”

He says to you, attaching his lips to your neck. He’s a little harsh, biting down on you like a chew toy, but you love it, continuing to pull his hair. He moves his hands around your body, stopping at your ass and giving it a good squeeze.

“You look so sexy in this little black dress.”

“I’m glad you like it, I wore it for you.”

“Did you now? I knew you wanted me. ”

His tone is cocky, but you love it. You only moan as a response, wanting him to touch you where you needed it the most.

“Please touch me, Beomgyu. I need it.”

“Fuck, normally I’d have you beg more but I can’t wait.”

He hikes your dress up before slipping his fingers into your wet slit.

“And no panties either? I didn’t know you were such a slut.”

The comments came rolling off of his tongue, only making you want him more.

“Shut up,”

You basically mewled back at him as he was working his fingers along your slit. He unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down along with his boxers. His hard dick sprung out, finally free from its confines. You looked down at it. It was a lot bigger than you thought. He looked at your expression and laughed before inserting two fingers into your arousal. You let out a loud gasp as the intrusion, not expecting him to put them in right away.

“I know it’s big honey, you’re drooling. I’d have you on your knees for me, but I need to be in you now,”

He says. He thrusts his fingers in a few more times, making sure you’re prepped and ready for him. He makes you face the mirror, going in from behind.

“Watch yourself as I ruin you on my cock,”

He says before sliding in. He lets out a long sigh, waiting for you to adjust before moving.

“M-move,”

Is all you can say, knowing you’ll start slurring if you say anything more. The room is spinning, partly due to the alcohol, but mostly because of the way Beomgyu starts slamming his hips into you. He grips your waist tight, moving you back and forth to meet his thrusts. Eventually, you start rocking yourself back onto him, wanting more. The way he has you chasing his thrusts only makes his smirk grow wider.

“You’re so eager for my cock baby, keep fucking yourself onto me.”

You can’t respond as you start to move yourself on him faster. His hand snakes around your neck, pulling you into a sloppy kiss, taking over again as his other hand holds you in place, thrusting into you faster and deeper than before. You can’t keep the kiss going as your moans grow uncontrollable, your walls fluttering around his dick.

“I’m s-so clo-ose Beomgyu, please…”

“You’re so fucking sexy when you beg for my dick”

Your whining and begging has him speeding up, not knowing how much longer he can last with you around him.

“Do it, come for me Y/N.”

His words are all it takes before you’re coming hard all around him, dripping down onto his cock. He pulls out and pulls your dress up higher before finishing on your ass. He gives it a good slap, to which you yelp, before grabbing some toilet paper to clean you off. You’re both panting really hard, silently trying to catch your breath and stop the room from spinning as much.

“Wow, you came a lot! It even dripped onto the floor a bit!”

“That’s your cum, dumbass.”

“Oh”

You stand up, pulling your dress down before stretching, the way you were arching your back earlier making you feel stiff.

“Now will you admit that you wanted me?”

“No. But I can’t lie, you were really good.”

He pulls you into a hug, which confused you.

“If you couldn’t tell, I like you Y/N. And I know you like me too. But if you aren’t ready to admit your feelings for me yet, it's okay. I’ll wait. But you have number, let me know if you want to do this again when we’re not drunk.”

He gives you one last, slow kiss before letting go, walking out of the bathroom and leaving you to yourself. You smile, using the bathroom and fixing yourself before heading out. Feeling a lot more sober now, you approach your friends.

“Finally you’re back! You were gone for like 20 minutes. Is everything okay?”

Belle asks, shouting through the loud music. You just smile and nod, think about the events that just transpired. The party dies down after a bit, you and Belle agreeing that now is a good time to leave. As you leave, you catch Beomgyu’s eyes again, but this time he winks at you. Smiling back at him, you walk back to your dorm.

༄ ༄ ༄

“Okay so can you tell me what happened and why you took 20 minutes in the bathroom?”

You sigh. Of course she would ask the moment you got back in the dorm. You’re surprised she didn’t ask you on the way back.

“You were right. I did want Beomgyu to fuck me. And he did…”

“WHAT?!” WHY WOULDN���T YOU TELL ME BEFORE!”

You cover your ears dramatically, signaling her to quiet down as it was quiet hours at the dorms.

“First of all, stop shouting. Second, it was too loud at the party. Plus I like keeping you in suspense. But yeah he basically confessed that he likes me and he told me that he knew I liked him but said he’d wait for me to tell him myself.”

“Wow, I didn’t think he was so mature. But finally you admit that you like him. I was going crazy”

She says as she plops onto her bed.

“When you guys do eventually get together, please don’t fuck him while I’m here. I don’t wanna hear you moaning for him.”

“Fuck you”

[violetwanderer]

Red Lips

Peter Parker x Female Reader

Summary: Reader shows off some items she bought on a shopping spree to her boyfriend, Peter, including a red lipstick that he really enjoys.

Warnings: Kissing

Word Count: 617 Words

Author's Note: This was meant to be a short fic but ended up looking better as headcanons

Masterlist

Do not copy or translate my works

After a long day of shopping, you come home to your shared apartment with Peter, unlocking the door and carrying your bags to the bedroom, walking past your boyfriend in the kitchen as you do.

“Hi, baby,” you call to him, hurrying to put down all your bags. You throw them down on the bed when you get to it.

Peter enters the room with a smile on his face, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey, babe,” he greets you softly. “How was shopping?”

“Really fun! I got some new clothes and makeup. Want to see some of the stuff?”

“Sure, baby,” Peter smiles wider, pushing off the doorframe and sitting on the bed beside the bags.

You start pulling out items of clothing and holding them up to your body, showing off how they would look on you.

He genuinely seems interested each time, and compliments every item of clothing, telling you how cute and pretty they would look on you.

Once you're done showing off the clothes, you move on to the bags that hold the makeup you bought.

You know you don't have time to try all of it on, so you just quickly flash some eye shadow palettes and blushes.

What catches your eye the most, however, is a bright red lipstick you purchased. You picked it up because you wanted to treat yourself, and because the colour reminded you of Peter's suit, though it isn't the exact same shade.

You have a strong feeling that Peter will like it, so you decide that you want to model it for him.

“I'll be back in a second!” You tell your boyfriend as you run into the bathroom quickly to put on the lipstick, checking your appearance in the mirror to make sure it looks perfect.

You go back into the bedroom and smirk coyly as Peter looks at you in awe.

“Do you like it?” You ask him, and he nods, but his expression doesn't change.

You straddle his lap and kiss his cheek, and when you pull away you notice that your lipstick has left its mark on his skin, causing you to giggle.

“What?” Peter asks with a sweet smile, and so you pull his hand up to your lips to show him what you're laughing at.

He examines the mark and his cheeks grow red at the sight, but his smile grows bigger.

“I like this lipstick,” Peter chuckles, still blushing.

You kiss all over his face then, leaving pretty red marks on his soft skin. His lips soon grow to match the colour of yours.

“Baby, I've gotta go,” Peter tells you between kisses, though he seems reluctant. “I've gotta go out on patrol, and I'll have to wash all this off first.”

“No you don't. Your mask will cover it all,” you point out, pulling away and laughing at the sight of his face. He's covered in lipstick marks shaped like kisses.

“You're right!” He grins. You pull away to let him get up and change into his suit.

Once he has changed, he slips his mask on, and there's no longer any evidence that you've covered him in your lipstick.

That is until you get the devilish idea to kiss his mask as well, pressing your lips against his through the fabric, leaving behind one last lipstick mark.

“That's just for luck,” you tell him with a wink.

“You can't see it on the mask though, right?” He asks you.

“Not at all,” you lie with an innocent smile.

As he climbs out the window, you can't help but giggle at the fact that anyone who gets up close to him tonight will see the lipstick on him.

[yallmakemyassitch]

The Shoe Store (⁠ﾉ⁠≧⁠∇⁠≦⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠ 👠

Summary: A grumpy Elizabeth learns how to smile after her bad attitude at the shops today! And Mrs. Mulberry knows just what to do to whip her daughter into shape...

Word count: 4893

Tobi talks: Finally got around to finishing this as promised! This took a long time, but I grinded today to get this finished :3 Either way, I'm very happy with the results and I hope you are as well. The art was an art trade done by @ntj2pj, please go follow him, he's very talented! Either way, have a good weekend!

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60765493

“But mummy, I don’t wanna gooooo!”

A little girl wailed dramatically, being dragged by the wrist. Her loud complaint got an annoyed sigh from her mother. The Mulberry was fighting with her body weight as Elizabeth defiantly tugged back to slow their journey.

The 8-year-old made surprising progress against slowing the over-40-year-old woman. The sound of her heels scraping against the ground made the British woman cringe. Her doing that was one of the multitude of reasons they were here in the first place!

“I know, Eliza, but we both know you need new shoes!” Her mother argued, looking down at her whining child for a split second. She felt momentary relief cascade over her psyche as the duo neared the revolving doors of the luxury shoe store.

Mrs. Mulberry felt the harsh tug of a ‘certain child’ pulling at her arm, which abruptly stopped them for what seemed like the umpteenth time. Elizabeth had burrowed her feet into the ground below, halting their approach into the dreaded shop.

Heather had had enough and whipped around, glaring softly down at her daughter, “Elizabeth Mulberry, behave yourself.” she exclaimed firmly, ticked off. Her golden eye’s typical gentle appearance had slightly widened into a piercing stare.

Elizabeth’s bright green eyes looked shocked at her mum for a few moments, before pouting and slouched her head with a compliant nodding. Heather softened her face and sighed deeply.

She crouched before the 8-year-old, reaching her gloved hand and softly holding her sagging head by her chin. Eliza’s eyes still gazed at the floor, however.

“Lizzy, darling…You know I care about your comfort more than anything else but, we’re here for a reason. I need you to behave for me, dear.”

She shuffled her feet uncomfortably.

“Can you do that for me, love?”

Eliza bit her lip, “Mhm…” she slowly nodded her head.

Mrs. Mulberry smiled, although it wasn’t visible from her void face, “Atta’ girl.” her yellow eye arched north to express her warm visage.

Mrs. Mulberry stood back up, her impressive height casting a heavy shadow over the small child. She quietly offered her gloved hand to her daughter. Eliza hesitated for a moment, glancing up at her smiling, welcoming as always. Just like that, she felt comforted, albeit still upset she had to be here, and beamed up at her.

Elizabeth was uncomfortable being here and her parent could tell, but she’d do her best for her mom. Eliza placed the nub of her arm in her hand, the far-too-long sleeve hanging as her mother lovingly grabbed the end of her limb.

“Come on, sweetheart, let’s go get you those shoes~”

Elizabeth didn’t respond and soon, the duo completed the journey to the revolving glass doors and entered the quaint, but elegant shop.

…

The establishment was very stylish looking. Shiny auburn wood planks lined the place beneath their feet. It was so shiny in fact, that Eliza could see her own, wobbly reflection. The ceiling was not very tall but still accommodated her mother.

It had chandeliers hung in every crevice of the store, sunbathing the single-roomed shop in its warm gleam. The aisles were tall, taller than her mother, and were lined with endless amounts of shoes, ranging from women's heels to children’s shoes.

The shop, L’Femme Paradis, as the name suggested, was directed primarily at girls and women. And the shoes weren’t cheap either! From what Elizabeth could see around her, all the customers were women and girls, save for a few boys.

They were scattered about the area’s floor and based on their fine gowns and extravagant hats, came from luxury, rich nobles just like her.

Elizabeth had parted ways with Heather with the excuse of looking for shoes to wear, in reality, she wanted to explore. Standing and listening to her mother gush about another pair she found was something she couldn’t bear to experience again.

‘I don’t belong here.’

That recurring thought shouted in the foretops of her mind. It tolerated her feeble tries to ignore it for a while, only for it to take over her line of thinking. She groaned frustratedly, finally accepting the uncomfortable aura this place radiated.

It was true, she couldn’t help but feel out of place in here. It was probably because she never left her home for any reason other than school, but the people here were…questionable, to say the least.

From what she eavesdropped, as she thoughtlessly looked up the mighty shelves, the women were shamelessly rude. One flamboyant lady, instead of helping, scolded her accompanying maids if they dropped a box. It was even more impressive that they only dropped one. The stacks they carried were dangerously high, almost near touching the ceiling.

It made Lizzy sad that they were spoken to so badly. She even saw a poor woman, an elder lady, on the verge of tears after being verbally lashed out at. Her employer, fan in hand, fanned her face and stormed past her, nearly knocking her over. But the two made eye contact when she passed.

The little girl’s sorrow-filled eyes reached into hers. The older one stopped to give her a weak smile, despite her leaking tears. She followed her employer in tow, in line with two other similarly dressed ladies. But they were much younger than her.

Elizabeth smiled bittersweetly to herself, that woman’s smile was what she liked to do the most. A trait inherited by her mom. She stopped and slid to the floor, leaning against the shelf. It was only the elite academy she attended and her mansion she knew intimately.

The Mulberry property was large enough for her and she had plenty of things to do while there, so why leave? She liked it that way. When it’s just her Ernie and Maxie, life is fun and simple.

But her lifestyle left her with a bit of a hole in her heart; Elizabeth had no friends. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, she had her cute doggy and even cuter little brother as company. Along with that, an endless group of staff who were trained to entertain her. Seeing the same people every day never got to her, but a change in routine would surely be lovely.

Thoughts like these hardly seeped into her life, but when not playing in her home, her chance to retrospect always brought up the concept of just that; a new friend. What has kept that idea down for so long was seeing the way people treated others.

Eliza was afraid she would be subjected to that treatment and the thought of it only made her want to cry. She sniffled. The people in her class bored her, their only defining feature was that they were rich like her but pompous like everyone else.

Sometimes, there was the rare little boy or girl who accompanied their parents to one of her mom’s social events hosted at their mansion and they’d have a grand time together. But it never escalated into something more, a “one-time playdate”, a phrase coined by her staff.

Someone to fill that hole would be nice.

Funnily enough, Eliza had already come across someone she thought would fit in her fantasies just perfectly. She’d been in the back of her mind since she first laid eyes on her.

She was a girl like her and really pretty. She wore a puffy red dress, had locks of curly blond hair pulled into ponytails, and cute red ribbons on both sides of her head. Her hand held a similarly colored, red parasol.

From what Elizabeth could see on the end of the aisle, where it broke off into a walkway, the wall was also lined with shoes.

There stood the girl and her mom. She attempted to make her gawking and eavesdropping not so obvious, hiding her face against the wooden structure of the tall shelves.

She had a fetching laugh and spoke nicely to her mother, a nice change in pace from the honest-to-god brats children that bossed their mother around like a dog.

Eliza thought about what might happen to her if she talked to her mother in that tone. She immediately cringed to herself. Speaking of her mother, she was shopping in the aisle just next to her, unknown to Elizabeth that is.

Mrs. Mulberry turned the corner into the next row, nearly stepping on her daughter in the process, who was still seated on the ground. She gasped in surprise. The 10 boxes in her hands had their foundation shake before falling back into place smoothly after much squirming.

Elizabeth nearly didn’t realize it was her mother until she looked up and cringed even harder like the sourest lemon was plopped in her mouth. The number of boxes she carried had her appalled.

“Goodness Elizabeth, what are you doing on the floor?” Mrs. Mulberry exclaimed, exasperated.

“I was just looking around and then sat here,” said Eliza, now standing and motioning to her former spot on the glossy surface.

“Ah well, did you find anything you’d like to try on?” Heather perked up at the news of her daughter’s store exploration.

Uh oh. She had completely forgotten to do that, having spent the majority of her time wandering. And giggling at some of the ridiculous designs she saw on the shoes. Eliza decided to stop laughing when she got a couple of frowns from the employees. She couldn’t help it, they were just too funny.

Heather’s eyes thinned suspiciously. “Lizzy, you did find something, right? I didn’t let you out my sight for no reason…”

“Uhhhh…” Elizabeth didn’t want to be exposed for lying, so grabbed a random pair off the shelf and presented it to her mother. “I found these.”

Heather’s single golden eye arched up, indicating a smile. “That’s excellent, love. Let’s go try them on.” Her mom waltzed past her, carrying the stupid amount of merchandise with ease. Eliza, out of sight, rolled her eyes, knowing that the hardest part of shopping was about to begin.

.

.

.

.

.

“Eliza, dear,” Her mother stared, deadpan. “This pair is 5 sizes too big.”

Elizabeth was sitting on a shoe bench, no longer wearing her heels, her mother yet again crouched beside her with the boxes scattered next to them. The girl’s shoes were missing, showing off her stripy stockings to their fullest.

Her arms were crossed and the British child was looking away, her lips pulled in a somewhat guilty expression. A soft sigh rocked the older Brit’s shoulders and Eliza immediately knew she had disappointed her.

“Lizzy, why did you ask me to explore if you didn’t want to find anything?”

She knew the answer but knew that honesty would break her mother’s heart. Elizabeth, hated, absolutely loathed shopping for clothes. It was a tedious task that got under her skin and made her pouty and grumpy. How she behaved while clothes shopping was a stark contrast to who she was.

Elizabeth would do anything to share her mother’s enthusiasm, but just couldn’t. The answer was written all over her face; Eliza was bored. The mother’s eyes furrowed in retrospection, she knew her daughter didn’t like trips like these, but the two weren’t here for fun today.

Eliza’s shoes were worn and needed to be replaced; which included her daughter’s favorite heels, a grey-blue pair of heels. She was honest about it while at home and needless to say, she wasn’t very happy. It required a promise of a double helping of ice cream after supper to get her out into the carriage. But she grimaced the whole way there.

They generally shared a lot of interests, piano, fencing, playing games, and…

Playing games, of course. She suddenly had a curious, burst of genius, that made her surprise herself that she hadn’t thought of it before. But in this public space, Heather would have to be a bit more discreet. Her daughter could get pretty loud, so she would have to be increasingly gentle for this to work.

In one smooth motion, the tall Brit gently grasped her daughter’s ankle, her other hand promptly beginning to skitter the bottom of her foot softly.

Eliza yelped, jumping in her seat before the most adorable giggles began to pour out of her. Heather smiled to herself upon hearing them, it was a lovely break from her daughter’s grumpy attitude.

“M-mohohom! What are you- ehehehe- d-dohohoing?” Elizabeth giggled frantically. As Mrs. Mulberry predicted, she’d start squirming. In an instant, Eliza felt her legs freeze in place like they had been frozen in a block of ice, which left her poor feet at the mercy of her mother.

She knew what this was and bitterly shouted, “D-don’t use your mahahagic on mehehe!” a new wave of laughter came from her as she scritched the sole of her foot.

Mrs. Mulberry swallowed back a tease, instead, keeping her face cool as a cucumber, sporting an almost professional demeanor.

“Why all the giggles, dear? Is something funny?” She asked with feigned concern, a hint of a coo laced her tone.

She blushed and quickly shook her head, her laughter unabated.

“Oh well, let’s move on to the next pair.”

Mrs. Mulberry halted her wiggling fingers, giving her daughter a break, smiling a bit upon hearing her gentle pants. She grabbed another box and opened it.

The pair was a pastel pink ankle strap children’s heels, Heather unbuckled the strap and placed the heel on Elizabeth’s foot; she noticeably left her outstretched leg shoeless.

“How does that feel?”

“I-it feels alright- h-hey! Hehehehe!”

She didn’t even get to finish her sentence, as her mother was back at it again, wiggling her fingertips all over her sole. Elizabeth couldn’t move a single inch from the waist down, not even being able to curl her toes in resistance, so she was forced to endure it.

Eliza’s belly shook with laughter, her waist twisting her torso despite her unmoving legs. The state of them was quite bizarre in fact; she couldn’t move them, but gravity didn’t seem to have a hold on her legs either. Her mother could bend or outstretch her leg and it wouldn’t fall.

This was only made aware to her when Mrs. Mulberry outstretched her leg forward and began to scrabble her clothed, neat nails on the fleshy bed that was the back of her knee.

She loudly squealed. The tickling stopped. And so did the action in the shop. Elizabeth felt the air freeze the moment her scream rang out. How could she be so careless? She was in public after all, but Eliza, along with Mrs. Mulberry was completely alone in this section of the store.

They were at one of the ends of the long wooden corridors that were shelves, Lizzy’s shoe bench was pressed up against its narrow width, conveniently placed for those who shopped and immediately had a seat to go to.

The seats were placed at every other shelf, which was made consciously apparent when she saw a figure through the gaps of several shelves stop and slowly make its way to the end.

The figure peeked over, a middle-aged woman, wearing an exuberant hat. Her scarlet petticoat made itself aware before her face did, a very confused and rather perturbed expression.

Elizabeth was staring at her, the women stared back. And her mother had quickly joined the stare-down. The room was silent before Eliza squeaked again, looking down horrified that her mother touched the back of her knee.

A warning for what was to come. She turned back to her daughter, an invisible smile stretched wide over her stygian face as continued to tickle the back of her knee.

“Coochie coochie coo~” She sang, clearly putting up a show for the woman watching. Like lightwork, her magic sparked up. A cyan cloud burst from nowhere and out of the wispy and sparkly residue of the cloud came two, blackened disembodied hands. Ones she could control freely as if they were attached to her arms.

The moment they spawned, the fingers were twitching and squirming, quite literally mirthful as their “body” was tormented by tickles. Eliza did the best that she could to control her hands and managed to clamp them on her mother’s shoulders.

Her fingers dug into the purple fabric of her shoulder pads and pulled, but her tugging was weakened by her endured giggles.

The woman who was gently staring, chuckled softly at the sight and returned behind the shelf. She was so embarrassed, her already flushed face warmed up even more knowing a stranger just saw her being tickled. Let alone tease her!

“Mahahahmuhaha! People are lohohoking!” She softly squealed, wiggling in her seat.

“I agree, darling. After all, your shoes are quite fetching!” Heather hummed.

“Thahat’s not whahat I meant!”

“Then what did you mean, sweetheart?” Her invisible smile stretched slightly.

Elizabeth laughter was her response.

“Ah I see, how interesting~”

Mrs. Mulberry stopped to grab one of the spectral hands clasped on her shoulder and took it gently into her palm. They were nearly as large as her hands, the long phalanges twitched in recovery.

With a single forefinger, she tranced a gentle line from the base of her middle finger, along the palm, and to the wrist. Eliza squeaked, somewhat alarmed giggles spilling out.

“Mohohom?! What are you d-dohoing?”

She responded curtly. “Nothing, darling.”

Heather's fingers wrapped hers around her daughters, caging them gently but firmly. Her thumb did the same to her child’s, pulling the charcoal skin taut. She repeated her actions from before, tracing a forefinger along the much more tender flesh.

Her face brightened with amusement at the happy noises her child was making. Lizzy’s laughter only increased when her mother traced slow, soft circles at the palm of her hand.

Her body screamed at her to move her lower half, to kick out and thrash. Just something to make her cope with the unbearable sensations, “Nohoohooho, m-mahahamuh!” Eliza has always had sensitive hands but to the point of ticklishness? Utterly ludicrous. But her mother would believe otherwise, as her unseen smile sat at a stretch and satisfied smirk.

Suddenly, she picked up the pace and her elegant tracing turned to merciless skittering, titillating off her flesh like a feather at an exquisite speed. Heather gently scratched at the very center and slowly outlined the creases, which boded lovely squeaks out of her sweet daughter.

Eliza giggled a lovely “Mehehercy!”, her cheeks now a precious shade of pink. Her uncontrollable laughter hitched and dipped at random intervals, she couldn’t handle the fiery trails traveling her tender palms. Which was made obvious by her fruitless squirming.

“Hahaha!”

Elizabeth heard a hearty chuckle coming from her left. She managed to open her scrunched-up eyes just a bit to see a young woman, holding a cyan parasol and sporting an elegant white dress. She was cracking up, as were her children, two girls, and a boy, all wearing similarly colored clothes.

“She’s so cute!” The girl with short hair blurted out.

She blushed furiously, despite already having a flushed face. It was miraculously Eliza was able to burn up more. Couldn’t they mind their own business?!

“Come now children!” Their mother said, still sniggering, “We mustn't stare. Come now, come!” she motioned them forward for them to follow her with the wag of her gloved hand.

“Yes, mother!” They exclaimed energetically.

They bounced along in front of her, shooting her playful and warm looks. A train of giggles filled her ears as they passed and quieted down the farther they got from her…

Before they could disappear in another aisle, the mother turned around. The parasol shadowed her face, but Elizabeth could still make out a large smirk on her face. She smooched the pads of her fingers and blew a kiss aimed at the small child.

Elizabeth was floored and looked away as soon as she did. Her free hand was trying to smother her lovely pink face, which only muffled her uncontrollable giggles.

“Aww…” The woman kissed her lips and cooed at the delightful scene before her. The lady with the parasol turned on her heel and continued with her rowdy bunch, who were crying out for their mother to follow them at this point.

Mrs. Mulberry chuckled heartily and stopped tickling her daughter. Lizzy’s hand was released from its restraint but lingered in her grasp as Mrs. Mulberry readjusted her hand. She now had the hand in hers and her mother was lovingly brushing her thumb over the knuckles.

“So cute…” the uttered gently, so soft in fact, Lizzy didn’t hear.

Mrs. Mulberry leaned over and pressed a tender kiss on the middle knuckle. This spawned a succession of gentle kisses, which took Eliza by surprise.

“My sweet little princess…”

Elizabeth smiled at the nouveau nickname, expressing this with a flustered giggle. If her happiness gave her the ability to swing her legs, Eliza would. The kisses explored each of her knuckles, her invisible lips slowly pressing up against the hard bone. She took her time to peck the pads of her fingers and smooched the bones of her fingers.

She flipped over her hand, palm up. Heather pressed a loud, tender smooch on the palm, which made Eliza spaz and laugh a little harder at the ticklish sensation. “Mohohommy! Nohoho!”

Heather didn’t come back after her, only smiling as she pulled back her hands. Heather’s eyes crinkled, signaling her present smile, which would have been a comfort if she hadn’t grabbed her leg again.

“W-wait!”

She bent her leg forward and let go, leaving it in its stuck position mid-air like she was some sort of puppet. Before she could say anything, Heather squeezed her thigh, nothing short of a squeal came out. All her attempts at talking voided in an instant, and belligerent laughter sputtered out of her.

She even snorted a couple of times, which made Mrs. Mulberry laugh. She was plucking and squeezing her thighs like she was clumping off chunks of dough, using both hands on both thighs.

Heather traveled her squeezing up to her hips and pinched the divots briefly, which got a delicious squeal out of her daughter.

“N-NOHOHOHO!” She cried, her mirth right now outsounded when Heather got to her toes. She’s found a new sweet spot and would dare to take advantage of it. Mrs. Mulberry pressed her thumbs into the divots and kneaded the flesh like a ticking clock.

“Poor baby…” Her coo went unheard as her child’s cackles overshadowed the woman’s tease. The elder Mulberry’s heart was close to bursting out of her chest, she’d never seen this sweet summer child laugh so hard.

She slowed down her tickling to a stop, allowing her daughter to catch her breath.

Once she did, her mother didn’t stop. Instead, she, again, scribbled wildly on the bottom of her foot, doing her the most to make sure her daughter squealed. And she did, Elizabeth hiccuped as she laughed joyously. Heather smiled at the sound of her daughter’s belly laughter.

“Hm…what else should you wear?” Her casual manner was driving her insane.

“N-nothihihing!” She cried, her laughter much squeakier than before.

“Oh, I swear Elizabeth…” Heather hummed. “What is so ridiculous about these shoes?”

“Whahat do you mehehean?”

“You laughed at all these poor shoes in the shop so much, they must feel bad about themselves now~”

“Hehehehe! Stop it, mohohom!” Lizzy giggled helplessly, the joke being played on her would have her pouting if it weren’t for the tickling. But thankfully, the scribbling slowed down to teasy tracing. The gloved hand mimicked the shape of her sole, Heather danced and traced the outline of the heart-shaped paw bean.

“Maybe you want to say “sorry for laughing at you” to these poor things?” Her pace picked up to gentle scribbles.

Through her titters, her daughter shook her head, “N-never!” she exclaimed defiantly.

“No? Hm…” Her mother began to let out pseudo-hums of contemplation, rubbing the bottom of her chin with her free hand.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth did her best to release herself of her loving mother’s magical restraint, but as she’s tried before, nothing worked. No matter how much she budged, Elizabeth could not escape. Which only added more butterflies to the swarming anticipation in her belly at the moment.

“How about this?”

Her mother pinched and began to wiggle around her pinkie toe, which caused her daughter to squeal quite delightfully.

“There are ten shoes left, just like you have ten toes.” She remarked. “Apologize to each one and I’ll move on to the next one. But be quick about it, or you’ll surely regret it.” The sinister hum in her tone was all that it took for Elizabeth to stay alert, but hysterical. Eliza could hardly say a word, her toes were deviously ticklish after all.

“Don’t you have something to say, darling?”

“Ahahaha! S-sahahahary!” Her howling made her tummy tremble to that of a mighty earthquake.

A smug satisfaction washed over Mrs. Mulberry, “Good girl~” her praise just about oozed with mischief.

The gloved fingers moved to tickle the other toe next in line, inspiring the British child to cry out in tearful mirth. “Kitchykitchykitchykoo” Her mother teased, her voice in a whisper so only her daughter could hear her taunts.

Elizabeth shook her head to distract herself from the rude mockery. Heather only laughed in response. “Did you really think I’d forget how ticklish these little things were?” She chuckled again, wiggling the toe in tandem. “You never fail to make me laugh, dearest…”

Her daughter merely giggled.

For the next few minutes, Mrs. Mulberry teased each digit with her flawless scribbling, not offering a smidgen of mercy for her child. Her dearest Lizzy was in tears at this point, her cheeks bathed in shades of pink and red.

The shop patrons were aware of what was going on at this point, with whispers flying about the women about the odd woman tickling her daughter. None could deny how the British child’s saccharine laughter warmed their hearts and made their shopping trip all the more pleasant.

Some “conveniently” needed to shop nearby and aw’d at the sight. Some children mimicked Lizzy’s laughter before running off. Even the old woman from before was passing by, no longer crying and wearing a wrinkly smile at the spectacle. In the back of her mind, she was reminded of her grandchildren and their darling laughter.

Elizabeth didn’t remember when her mother stopped, she was too stuck in her euphoria to notice. She only did when she felt the welcoming sensation of a kiss on the tip of her nose. “I believe that’s enough for you, dearest…”

She panted, residual hiccups and giggles spilling out, a sleepy smile graced her face from laughing so hard. Her mother lovingly placed her default heels back on, before pressing an extra tend kiss right on her cheek and forehead.

The magic ceased and she was free to move her legs once again. Heather collected the scatter boxes into two towers, one held in each hand. Before that, her mother kindly placed her default heels back on. Not without wiggling her fingers against her to get a few extra giggles, that is.

“I’m going to go buy these, stay put, sweetheart~”

Elizabeth didn’t bother to disobey, as fatigue already sank deep in her youthful flesh. She had recovered her breath, but the buzzing warmth still lingered in her chest like a blooming flower.

She couldn’t help but start to giggle a little, not from any phantom tickling, but just how funny it all was. Soft, squeaky snickering effortlessly escaped, the swing of her legs picking up to match her amusement.

“That was so cute…”

There was a soft voice that came from her far left. She opened her eyes to see who it was and her eyes widened. It was the pretty girl from earlier, the one with the red dress and golden hair.

Eliza blushed as she approached, still captivated by her beauty. Her demeanor was shy, as she kept her hands cusped together by her front. But her sparkling blue eyes maintained eye contact with hers.

The red-wearer’s smile stretched as she halted beside her, “W-what’s your name?” she stammered softly.

“Elizabeth.” Her lips moved before her brain could.

“That’s such a pretty name!” she mused excitedly, clasping her hands together over her heart. “M-my name is Cadence! I really like your laugh!”

Cadence went as crimson as her petticoat and pressed her hand over her mouth. Her gentle voice had gotten loud out of nowhere. Elizabeth smiled widely at her. “And I really like your dress!” Lizzy exclaimed, just as loudly.

The flustered girl paused for a second and brightened. “And I- and I l-like your hat!” Even louder. The British children took turns to one-up each other volume, raising their voices louder and louder with each compliment exchanged between one another.

Now, the shoppers were even more confused, first laughing, now shouting? The women exchanged odd glances at one another, sharing their mutual perplexity. Cadence’s mother was blissfully unaware of what was going on, trying on dresses in the changing chambers. Elizabeth’s mother could hear them loud and clear with the clerk.

She chuckled “A new friend, Elizabeth?” she exclaimed amusedly under her breath. She was due to make a new companion anyway.

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Fin~

[kyalico]

I remember how your hands felt on mine

☆ : hai guys this is my first tumblr post (idk how to use this app) english isnt my first language so i apologize for any grammar mistakes n my overuse of commas :’) was originally gonna be a nanami oneshot but i switched it in the middle of writing

characters: toji fushiguro (jjk) x gn!reader

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, reader’s kinda an ass but so is toji, reader’s in denial half of the time ngl, rushed, not proofread :(

author’s note: its slightly inspired by i remember how your hands felt on mine by Wisp bc i luv that song <3 go stream!!

word count: 1.2k (short bc i wrote it in an hour and its time to sleep)

the cold air gently brushed on your delicate skin, whispering soft hums into your ear. your feet kicked back and forth above the gloomy water, your reflection barely visible from the cloudy specks floating above the surface.

his raspy voice ringing in your head every time the cool wind breathes onto you.

“i’ll love you forever and always, okay? don’t forget that, honey,” is what he would remind you of no matter the day or situation.

the stupid promises were repetitive to say the least, but you couldn’t help but reminisce the days where he gently held you against his firm arms, cooing nothing but delightful words that sounded melodic.

you had known toji for years. from freshman year of high school to now, adulthood. adulthood was definitely one of the most terrifying things to ever exist, but toji would always be there by your side no matter what. he went through hell and back if it meant seeing your smile that imitated a ray of sunshine for just a split second, and not once did he feel an ounce of regret for it.

the first interaction felt as if it came fresh out of a corny romance movie. looking back on it, you realize how unusual you used to act, yet toji never minded. in fact he loved how much you would rant on and on about something silly you’ve suddenly started to hyper fixate over or how much you absolutely despised chemistry. whatever it was, he adored it. he adored you.

now, what did go wrong in your relationship? was it the fact that you felt that he wasn’t emotionally mature enough or was it the fact that he thought you were never direct about how you felt about him? nobody knew the answer but you wish you did. he wishes he did.

“what the fuck? why would you just pour all of that onto me all at once? didn’t even give me some time to process, damn.” a condescending tone and a rough hand covering his face, he was insanely frustrated with you. you never meant for it to escalate, but it wasn’t really your fault he couldn’t handle this, right?

“it’s not my fault you’re never aware about how i feel,” you retorted, a frown on your face which was unusual knowing the fact you never frowned. seeing the way the corners of your lips turned down made toji uncomfortable.

“how am i supposed to know if you won’t give me shit? you lock yourself away in hopes of me getting the idea about how you feel.” toji groaned. it was getting harder to contain himself, but it was definitely frustrating that you were acting this way. you almost never did, and that’s what was so off about the situation.

“maybe read the room better? it’s not my fault you’re so fucking dense all of the time for no reason. it’s almost like you’d choose money over me.” you sneered as your body felt like it was burning up, temperature quickly rising as you struggled to keep yourself together. “i bet you spend all of that money on your side chicks, hm?” it was completely out of anger and you were basically speaking on autopilot at this point. it was hard to figure out what to say especially in the heat of the moment.

however, toji was infuriated at this point, unable to concentrate as he basically stared you down. his fists clenched, dull nails digging into his calloused hands with his knuckles turning snowy white. “the fuck? why the fuck would you say that? you’re actually so immature. i don’t know why you would think that in the first place, but maybe you’re right.” he scoffed, an unamused look on his face. “it’d be crazy if i just admitted i had a side chick or two, huh?”

“what?” it took you a while to fully process all of that, and it wasn’t great at all. “did you just admit to fucking other girls? holy shit, you’re a fucking whore!” you cried out, hand raising as it came in harsh contact with his cheek.

a red sting stained the feeling of his cheek, his eyes widening as he realized what came out of his mouth and it was stupid.

“wait, darling no.” he gently grabbed up by the shoulders, noticing the way your eyes glistened up. “sweetheart, it was just in the moment. i swear i didn’t mean it and i would never cheat on you.” he spoke rapidly in hopes of you believing whatever bullshit came out of his mouth.

a voice interrupted the continuation of your thoughts, the feeling of the wind once brushing against your skin. you didn't even realize the puny tear falling from your eye, sliding down your cheek.

you quickly wipe it away, warily turning around to locate the familiar voice hidden by the whispers of the wind. it was him, wasn’t it? you were unsure whether or not you wanted to see him in this very moment as uninvited memories swam back.

you felt the weight of a large hand covering your shoulder, its thumb gently caressing your skin. “hey, what’re you doing here?” toji spoke softly yet loud enough to penetrate the sound of the wind.

“nothing. what about you, why are you here?” you mumble, responding with a hint of hesitation present in your voice.

“missed you, that’s all.” he gently pecked your cheek without a request and he knows he doesn’t have to ask for permission from you. you’d allow it anytime.

“liar, don’t even.” you slowly pulled away, looking back down at the murky waters. “your ass cheated on me, i dont want you back.” huffing, the wind exposing your features that he absolutely loved.

he squished your cheek gently. “already told ya, i never did and will never want to.” he planted another kiss on your body, except this was on the top of your head.

“your ass admitted it, didn’t you? that’s why we broke up, you slut.” you sighed. you didn’t want to talk about any of this but he was definitely willing to after messing up horribly.

“no, baby, no.” toji sat next to you on the bench, grabbing your hand in his. “i know you won’t believe me, but it was all in the heat of the moment.”

“i genuinely didn’t mean to hurt you at all, please know that. i love you so much and saying those things was the biggest regret and mistake i’ve ever made in my life, and i hate making mistakes especially when it comes to you.” he confessed and you couldn’t lie, you wanted to believe it. and you did.

you noticed the sincerity in his voice, the look of love in his eyes. eyes that were meant for you and only you.

you would’ve never expected for him to own up to his mistakes, but you needed to as well. he wasn’t all at fault, especially when you instigated the argument in the beginning. pride was swallowing you whole, and you didn’t want to ruin the moment at all.

you let it swallow you but also let the warmth of his body engulf you. you missed this. you missed him.

“it’s okay, hun. i forgive you.” you spoke gently, forgiveness was all toji needed. he didn’t even care for the fact that you were at fault. all that mattered was you. just you.

you’ll apologize soon, but you needed him right now. not even the frosty wind and the aroma of seawater could ruin this moment.

☆ rlly rushed ending so sorry!! ill do better :’(

[lovelaetter]

cant stop thinking about stepmom!taeyeon who manipulates and eventually convinces her werewolf stepkid to use her body on the day the full moon comes out 🥺…

the moment it actually happens, she gets more than expected and it’s so painfully pleasurable but hey at least the dick hit the spots iykwim

MONSTERFUCKING, STEPCEST

i’m going to be so honest with you anon, i love this. i love this a lot and you know it because the day you sent this i posted that i wanted to kiss you and i still do but for some reason i can seem to write anything around this and it’s the reason this post is going to be so straightforward, only fuck*ng not background as much as i love, i really tried but couldn’t come up with anything i liked :( that being said..

she would so take a double look at your cock because jesus, why is it so big? it was already hard for her to take you the first time you fucked ever, human form and all, but this? sure she would feel for days, no matter how much time you spent between her thighs, always the dotting daughter, the caring girl, lapping at her sweet cunt to get her ready, using your now longer tongue to open your way inside her. thighs and waist burning with the little cuts from your claws, she doesn’t dare to look down and see the mess it must look, can’t do much but whimper and try to hold your arms as you move her around the you feel like, whispering in the sweet voice of hers “sweet girl, calm down, please” when you growl at her neck, frustrated that you can’t seem to fit inside her, your tip pushing against her entrance a little insistently. would slide her hands between your bodies, moaning just from feeling you under her touch, using her own fingers for a while, she’s so unbelievable wet, can take three so easily, but it’s not like her hand is that big.

there would be so much going on once you finally slide inside her— she thinks she’s being split in two, your teeth grazing her neck and a deadly grip on her waist and it’s too much but it’s nothing because it’s barely half of you and she needs more, kicks and screams but pushes back, wants you deep. keeps one hand over her belly the whole time to feel you hitting there, clearly growing more and more wet each time. when you start to simply push, knot forcing its way inside her already abused pussy, has lost count of how many time she has come by then but does again so hard, it’s like the first time, feeling herself get even more full with cum. and speaking of cum, there’s just so much of it… once you manage to slide out, she feels so dirty at how it just keeps flowing out of her, but at same time it’s so good. all the pain, worth it.

lays there with you later and wouldn’t complain if you decide to lap at her some more, in fact finding it endearing, maybe it’s a werewolf thing, a way to try and soothe her sore cunt. she loves you so much, you’re not hers but still, such a good daughter, always caring for her, even like this :( does she have any idea of how to explain to your dad what are all the cuts on her body? hell no, but she can think of something.

[chloe-skywalker]

Could Be? - Jay Halstead

Jay Halstead x Fem!Reader Severide

Warnings: none

Word count: 766

Summary: Jay’s never met Serveirses sister, maybe its because she travels for work so often. But maybe they hadn’t met yet for a reason. Maybe it hadn’t been the right time till now.

Authors Note: You never see a woman wrestler as a job for the reader and I’m a big fan of AEW so I put some of that in this story.

Masterlist

One Chicago Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Hey Herrmann.” Jay greeted as he approached the firefighter. It was rare when the FD and the PD could get together but this giant cook out for both departments was a great way to get together.

“What's up Halstead?” Herrmann answered with a smile.

Jay was looking around and he had noticed a woman he’s never seen before with Kelly. Who better to ask than Herrmann. “Who’s that over there with Severide?”

“Y/n?” Herrmann furrowed his brows, why’d he want to know that? Then again Jay was a friendly guy and probably hadn’t met her yet. “Severide's sister Y/n. Well half sister but their mom’s let the two grow up seeing each other all the time. Essentially they grew up together. They're close.”

“Thank’s.” Jay nodd’s in gratitude as Herrmann got dragged away by one of his kids.

“Dude this could be a bad idea.” Kevin shook his head already sure of what Jay was thinking. Kevin and Adam had been nearby and heard Jay talking to Herrmann, so once the firefighter left they approached their buddy.

“Could be?” Adam raised a brow in question.

“It’s Severide's sister.” Kevin clarifies as if it should be obvious.

“She could be worth it.” Adam shrugged his shoulders, taking a sip of his beer.

“Who could be worth it?” Hailey questioned as her and Kim walked up to the guys.

“Severide's sister.” Kevin tell’s the women, catching them up.

“You should at least try.” Kim shrugged her shoulders.

“Thank you ladies.” Jay smiled at them before heading over towards Kelly and his apparent sister.

“Hey Jay.” Kelly nodded in greeting.

“Severide. Who’s this?” he asked, smiling.

“Y/n Jay Halstead, Jay Halstead Y/n Severide Y/l/n. My sister.” Kelly introduced his sister to the detective.

“Nice to meet you.” Y/n smiled, shaking his hand.

“Nice to meet you to. Didn’t know Kelly had a sister.” Jay smiled, shaking her hand.

“I travel a lot for work.” Y/n nodded as she gave her explanation.

“I’m gonna go grab a burger.” Kelly stated leaking the two to get acquainted.

“What do you do for work?” Jay asked, trying to get to know her better.

“Professional Wrestler.” Y/n answered with a smirk.

“Like WWE?” he raised a brow in shock.

Y/n shook her head and scoffed. “No, that's not professional wrestling, that's sports entertainment. The outcome, move’s pulled in the ring and words they say. All scripted… No, I'm with AEW. Real professional wrestling.”

“I’ll have to watch sometime.” Jay smiled at how passionately she talked about her job.

“Maybe you can come and see it in person sometime.” Y/n offered shyly.

“It’s a date.” Jay stated obviously hinting at the fact he was interested in her.

“Well the date would have to be after or before.” Y/n glanced at him.

“Fine by me.” Jay smirked.

Y/n nodded and then looked him up and down and smirked herself. “And let me guess ex-military and now law enforcement.”

“Damn spot on guess.” Jay answered, looking at her impressed and shocked.

“Well it’s not hard to tell your ex-military but it’s easy to see you're not a firefighter. And this is for firefighters and law enforcement plus their families.” Y/n laughed at his facial expression.

“Detective.” Jay told her to stepping closer to her.

“You work under Voight.” Y/n came to the conclusion.

“The one and only. You have a beef with him to?” Jay asked, really hoping she didn’t.

“Not personally. Only backing up Casey. But that’s been settled.” Y/n tells him with a shake of her head in a ‘no’ motion.

Meanwhile some of 51 and Voights team were watching from afar.

“Are you letting Halstead chat up your sister?” Herrmann raised a brow as he questioned the squad leader, confused and slightly concerned. Concerned for Halstead.

“No harm in them just talking.” Kelly shrugged.

“It’s more than that.” Adam laughed

“I noticed. But as long as he doesn’t hurt her I don’t have a problem with it.” Kelly told them taking a sip of his beer.

“You have a problem with anyone else aksing her out on a date.” Cruz looked at him with squinted eye’s judgingly.

“Not me.” Casey smirked, tilting his head, looking all innocent.

“Yeah well you're the exception.” Kelly shrugged and nudged Casey’s shoulder.

“What about Halstead?” Mouch asked.

“We’ll see.” Kelly watched Y/n and Jay closely. He’d be the first one to step in if he didn’t like anything Jay did. Y/n’s his sister, you don’t mess with his sister.

Taglists: @padawancat97

[whoreforsexymen]

Guess who just finished acrane and is writing this with actual tears on my face!!! I need some Vander fluff- i think i will emplode- it doesnt even have to be anything specific i just need comfort after that shit storm 😭

Yes my child. Mommy will make good on your request.

And don’t even get me started on S2. I can’t bring myself to watch it yet. I’m still not even over S1 and I KNOW for a fact it’s not even as sad as I’ve learned S2 is.

But shhhhh, Mommy’s got you. Here’s the fluff you asked for.

Piltover’s Got Nothin’ On You | Vander Fluff Flash 🍺🤎

(GIF cred: me <3)

Pairings: Vander x GN!Reader

Pronouns: No pronouns used.

Rating: SFW - Minors, you can look now. (But that’s debatable because Reader and Vander are lying presumably half naked in bed together— but I’ll let it slide since it’s very innocent)

Word Count: 524

Summary: Vander is enjoying a nice cozy morning with you, and reminds you exactly how he feels.

Tags: 18+ reader, just because it’s a little maturely themed if you whip out a magnifying glass, Fluff, Tooth Rotting Fluff, Domesticity W/ Vander, OoeyGooeyRomance

Notes: None, just enjoy. Take a breather. 🤍

“Would I lie to you?” The question hung in the air, light yet loaded with meaning. It was enough to send a familiar flutter through your stomach, a soft, nervous twinge that made your heart skip. The sensation was strangely uncomfortable, yet in the most endearing way—like a gentle reminder of how much he could still make you feel, even in the simplest of moments.

You lay atop the man you were speaking to, both of you bare-chested, the warmth of your skin pressing together in an effortlessly comforting way. The coolness of the morning air was a distant contrast to the heat between you, a calm presence that made the moment feel serene to say the least. His steady breathing beneath you gave the moment a gentle rhythm, and for a while, there was nothing but the simple unspoken connection between you both before you responded.

“Maybe. Depends.” You tease, your words playful but laced with a hint of mischief.

His response is immediate—his large hand slipping into yours with a quiet sense of contentment, the warmth of his grip grounding you. There’s a comfort in the way he holds you, as if, in this moment, the world outside doesn’t matter. His touch speaks volumes, the unspoken understanding between you both more powerful than anything words could convey.

“Someone clearly thinks highly of me,” he teases back, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. Before you can answer, he leans down and places a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead, his touch tender and full of quiet affection. The sweetness of the gesture catches you off guard, a simple act that somehow feels like the most genuine expression of his feelings—a quiet reminder of how deeply he cares.

You smile, a soft laugh slipping from your lips.

“All I was saying is that, as much as Piltover has its minor flaws—“ you begin, your voice light with amusement as you’re stopped short.

“Appalling flaws, really. Humongous, towering flaws,” he interrupts playfully, his tone teasing as he presses a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, still held firmly in his.

You can’t help but laugh at his wit.

“Yes, huge, appalling flaws. But despite all that, Topside is stunning at night. The lights here are beautiful, too, but nothing compares to the glow of Piltover.” You add, trying to make your point clear: a city’s beauty can stand on its own, no matter what darkness might lurk behind the scenes.

He regards you for a long while, his gaze lingering on your face with an amusement that never quite fades. The seconds stretch on, almost too long—what might seem like a few moments in the world’s rhythm becomes an eternity in his eyes. Each shift in your expression, each subtle change in your posture, draws him in, holding his attention as if time itself has slowed. And yet, even as eternity unfolds, it’s still not enough. To him, no amount of time could ever truly capture all he wants to see.

“That may be true,” he says, his voice steady, the smirk never quite leaving his face.

“But Piltover’s got nothin’ on you.”

[blvdymary]

Lying Is A Sin

pairing: Thomas Shelby x (OC!) Anastasia Ivanova

Summary: Can a man really avoid who he truly is for the sake of love?

Genre: Infidelity & drabble.

Word count: 650

Note: GUESS WHO'S BACK FROM DEAD!!!!!! also sorry yall i wanted to write something about my oc for once LOLL I MISSED YOU ALL SM!!!!! also had a little name change teehee

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Thomas Shelby, a man known for having many affairs with women in the past, was now a married man. This was shocking news to everyone who lived in Birmingham. Although it seemed like he loved his wife, Elizabeth—or, as we all know her, Lizzie—a man can’t change in one night, can he? Not even Rome was built in a day, so what was the reason he had decided to change now? Well… he had a dirty secret, like everyone does.

It was 9:45 p.m. on a warm summer night at an extravagant ballroom overlooking the sea. An event hosted by the aristocrats of England was in full swing. Although Tommy wasn’t an aristocrat himself, he was invited by the host because of his reputation around the country. There he was, his wife linking arms with him, enduring a dull conversation with wealthy men from other countries. Even though he wasn’t enjoying the discussion, he was certainly enjoying the view of the duchess sitting beside one of the men.

He had caught her looking at everyone at the table. Her eyes, like the darkest pits of his twisted mind, were utterly fascinating. Needless to say, one glance from her, and anyone would be lured in as if she were a siren.

Lizzie noticed the way Thomas was looking at the duchess from across the table. She leaned in slightly, speaking in a hushed voice, as though the duchess’s gaze could somehow hear her.

“Who is that woman? She’s got those bastards wrapped around her finger.”

Tommy chuckled internally, keeping his expression neutral except for a slight smirk. He spoke in the same low tone as Lizzie.

“Well, that, my darling, is Anastasia Ivanova. I don’t know much about her other than the fact that she’s evil in her own way,” he said, his gaze fixed on the duchess’s lips.

By 11:36 p.m., the so-called “party” had reached its peak. Thomas could see drunk aristocrats dancing, laughing, or simply getting more drunk by the second. Now, he wasn’t going to pretend he was innocent—he was also quite drunk. But he could hold his liquor better than these people, that’s for sure.

As he strolled across the ballroom with a glass of whiskey in hand, he felt a strange sensation, like he was being watched. Shivers ran down his spine as he looked around for the source of his unease. He spun in place, scanning the room, until he noticed her. The grand duchess herself was staring him down with an intense gaze.

He’d be lying if he said she wasn’t attractive. The drunken state he was in only made her seem more… appealing. Before he knew it, he was walking toward her with intentions to… chat.

As he stood in front of her, he couldn’t help but notice her thin, tall frame. With each passing moment, his desire grew stronger. He smirked, staring at her as he spoke in slurred words.

“So… Miss Ivanova… why don’t we get to know each other, hmm?”

“How about we get to know each other in a more secluded area?” she replied. Her voice, like a symphony to his ears, filled his mind with wicked thoughts. Her words, though restrained, were enough to tease him to his breaking point.

He took her hand, glancing around to ensure Lizzie was nowhere nearby. He spotted her laughing like a madwoman with other aristocratic women, clearly drunk. Perfect.

Turning back to Anastasia, he looked at her with pleading eyes, as if silently saying, “Come with me, please.” She gave him a silent nod of approval with her charming smile. Without hesitation, he led her to one of the many rooms in the palace, proving, in fact, that he wasn’t a changed man—just a better liar.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

taglist: @hiraethberry @1-fuzzy-squirrels @justcallme1anangel @tejasvkris @rosierosem @meowsicles39

[mellotronmkll]

I need to stop having one weird reaction with someone and then letting the anxiety decide in my head that the friendship is doomed because I ruined it like it's my absolute worst trait and I just have to move past it but it's hard