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#like you all know that you can get killed for that
yuujispinkhair · 2 days
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its time for single dad!kuna and his albino kiddo, uraume x elementary teacher!y/n
OMGGG THAT SOUNDS SO COMFORTING AND SWEET 💗😭 Okay I had to write this! I hope you like it!
Single Dad!Sukuna x Reader (female). Fluff. 800 words. Divider @/chilumitos
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When you start your job at the new school, everyone warns you about a certain pink-haired, tattooed dad.
"Oh you have Uraume in your class? Well, good luck then."
"Why?"
"Oh, it's not the child that is the problem. It's the dad!"
Your coworkers tell you about this huge, grumpy man who always barks out orders and complains left and right the whole time because he thinks his child isn't getting treated correctly.
When you first meet Sukuna, you really are intimidated by him. He is tall and muscular, almost filling out the whole doorway and towering over you. A very attractive man, but scary with those tattoos that tell you he must lead a life in crime or at least must have been involved in something like that at some point. He sneers at you while his eyes sparkle threateningly,
"A new teacher, huh? I sure hope you will do a better job than the ones before you. I won't accept any carelessness when it comes to looking after my child!"
Sukuna's voice is harsh, and his gaze is full of anger. But you listen patiently to him and realize that this is just a man who is worried about his child. A child who doesn't really have any friends and is sick all the time and gets bullied for it.
You can understand Sukuna. Can understand the helpless anger you see in those maroon eyes. Like a tiger who is ready to kill for his cub but doesn't know how to handle the everyday tragedy of his child being an outcast in school.
You smile warmly at him and tell him in a soft voice,
"I understand that, Mr Itadori. You are worried about Uraume. I promise you that I will have a close eye on them. I won't look away when someone bullies them. Uraume is a lovely child and amazing the way they are. I will do my best to guide them on their way to becoming a confident and happy person. Thank you for coming to me with your worries."
And you see this big, bad, angry man falter and blink at you in confusion because, apparently, none of the other teachers ever reacted the way you did. But he catches himself after a moment and tells you he will watch you closely before he leaves without a farewell.
You keep your word and look after Uraume, praising the child for the exercises they excel in and sitting the whole class down to discuss with them that it's not okay to make fun of others for the way they look, etc. Teaching them that everyone is different and that this is okay. You even assign group projects, where you pair Uraume up with some kids who you know are sweet and won't be cruel to them.
Three weeks later, you walk out of the school in the afternoon when all the kids have already left, jumping when a low voice speaks up next to you. Sukuna is leaning against the wall of the building, smirking at you, maroon eyes wandering curiously over you,
"I came to thank you, Miss. Uraume told me about how much fun they are having at school now and that they even found two little friends. They told me you are the best teacher in the world."
You break out into a big smile, eyes filled with happiness,
"I am so happy to hear that! Uraume is doing so well! I am so proud of them and so happy that they enjoy coming to school now!"
And Sukuna pushes himself off the wall, taking a step closer to you. So tall and broad, but he doesn't seem all that intimidating anymore. There's a little smile tugging at his lips, and his intelligent eyes are warm when he tells you in a low, velvety voice,
"All the other teachers ignored my complaints or refused to talk to me anymore and sent me to the principal, who was just as incompetent. You are the first one who took my words into account and let actions follow. I thought this school was a hellhole, but you changed my mind."
You chuckle softly, feeling a bit flustered at the intense gaze out of those beautiful maroon eyes and the praise coming from this attractive man.
"Thank you, Mr Itadori. I am glad."
"Sukuna."
"Hm?"
"Call me Sukuna, please. It will sound nicer if you call me by my first name while we have coffee together."
And with that, his grin grows broader, and he jerks his tattooed chin toward the little café down the road, making your heart flutter excitedly as you smile back at him and nod softly,
"Yes, that sounds really nice, Sukuna."
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morganbritton132 · 3 days
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The person who knows Steve the most is Tommy. The party is annoyed every time they are confronted with this fact, because sure. They know Steve’s favorite songs and his hair care routine, but Tommy knows that too. He also knows that Steve is allergic to aspirin.
Nancy and Jonathan are standing in the middle of Melvin’s arguing about painkillers because neither can remember what Steve asked for, and decide to just grab one. They all do the same thing anyways, right? Wrong.
Nancy barely has the bottle off the shelf when it’s grabbed out of her hand, “Wow, Wheeler. Breaking his heart isn’t good enough? You wanna kill him now too? Get Tylenol.”
Steve calls Dustin up and is kinda whiny until he agrees to go to his house and watch movies. He doesn’t want to do this. He makes it clear that he doesn’t. Like, an hour and a half in, there’s a knock at the door.
It’s Tommy with a birthday cake that his mom made and insisted he drop off. Dustin didn’t even know it was Steve’s birthday. They’ve known each other for two years.
Tommy is roaming the shelves as Family Video, rolling his eyes about Steve befriending Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson and a band geek and how loudly they are just dicking off at the counter. Theyre snacking on brownies Robin brought in, and then he hears a wheeze.
Then panic. Then the thump of a body on the floor. Then without even thinking, he’s pulling an epi-pen out of his pocket and jabbing it into Steve’s thigh. Of course his ‘friends’ have no idea about his peanut allergy. Of course.
Steve has the presence of mind to blurt out, “Is that expired?”
“I don’t freaking know!��� Tommy snaps, and then snaps his fingers in front of Steve’s face when his eyes start to droop. “Hey, stay awake until the ambulance gets here.”
“Am’lance?”
“Yeah, the ambulance,” He says, turning to Steve’s friends. “You did call an ambulance.”
And Eddie and Robin are like, “Yes” as they slowly back up to go do that.
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nochepsicodelica · 20 hours
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NSFW
"Toji?" You call, putting your phone down after hearing the front door slam shut. Your heartbeat quickens when you hear heavy footsteps going through the living room, approaching the kitchen, where you are. Toji's expression looks blank from afar, but as he gets closer, you can see the signs of stress on his face. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed, his eyes are lidded and there's no sign of the usual playful smirk that he reserves for you. He snatches your hand from where it rests on the kitchen counter, and holds it in a tight grip as he drags you away with him to the bedroom.
The second you reach the bedroom, he shuts the door and locks it before pushing you back onto the bed. He climbs over you and immediately starts devouring your neck. You can hear his erratic breathing as he aggressively kisses your skin.
"To- Toji?" You call, again.
"Is this okay?" He asks, his voice a deep and low rumble beneath your ear. Your word tidal waves his needs and stomps on anything he may be feeling inside. Nothing is ever so deep that it's worth scaring you over, so if being touched this way is not something you want, he won't push you.
You understand what he's implying and offer a nod, before responding with more certainty.
"Yes, Toji," you permit, unable to catch his eyes before he's moving back to your neck.
"I need peace and quiet, right now. No talking, unless you're uncomfortable with something, yes?"
"Yeah- Yes," you correct.
He offers you the faintest of smiles, before going down your body. You respect his request and give him the silence he wants as he continues. Your fingers course through his hair as he plants kisses on your chest, the light sensation luring out a few quiet breaths from him. He goes lower, pushing up your shirt to reveal your tummy, where he plants even more kisses. You let out a gasp when he sucks a mark just above your bellybutton. He leaves a couple more, placing them lower as he reaches the waistband of your shorts and the elastic of your underwear. He pulls them both down in one swoop, and without hesitation buries his face between your thighs.
Toji's name is dying over and over on your tongue. You want to let him know how good you're feeling—how good he's making you feel— but you don't want to kill his energy entirely by disobeying his request for silence. Soft, almost inaudible moans spill from your lips, as you paw at the sheets beneath you. You bite your lip every time you feel the urge to say his name, the taste of iron perfectly embodying the foulness of being unable to praise him for making you feel this way. His fingers are digging into your hips, leaving a dull ache that you know will feel sore later on.
You make eye contact with Toji and feel your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. You can physically feel the blood pumping in your veins run cold, your skin pebbling with goosebumps the longer you look at him. Those fern-colored eyes are borderline predatory. His pupils are enlarged, your effect on him entirely drug-like as your taste smothers every tastebud on his tongue.
Toji's gaze dominates you and provides the smallest tinge of intimidation, which only makes your orgasm that much stronger when it strikes. You're so good to him, slapping a palm over your mouth to muffle those cries of intense pleasure as the sensation surges through you. Even when you're preventing yourself from being too loud, for his sake, Toji knows the effect he has on you. Your body is trembling, your eyes are closed tightly, and the sheets are balled up in your tight-knuckled fist. He can positively assume that beneath your hand, your lips are being chewed up to all hell and god it's so beautiful.
Toji is patient enough to give you a second to compose yourself. He keeps his eyes on you the entire time, because he finds comfort in the surface level view of the chaos you must be feeling inside. Once you're more visibly relaxed, he does a check in. He squeezes your thigh and waits for you to give him a thumbs up.
When you give Toji the signal, he picks up where he left off with no hesitation, only this time, his fingers find refuge inside your drooling cunt. He eases one thick digit in first, a mesmerized look on his face as it easily sinks into you, your arousal being a big help in the process. He lets out a quiet, fascinated gasp when your warm walls start contracting around his finger.
"Shh... baby," he whispers, hushing your little whimpers as his finger sinks deeper, until it's completely swallowed by your velvety walls.
Your stomach quivers when Toji slowly starts pumping his finger in and out of you. Just when you think you can take it, he adds a second finger, luring a sharp gasp from you. Both of your hands come up to your face, your warm breath released through the cracks between your fingers. Toji taps your thigh, and when your hands come down so you can see him, he gives you a disapproving shake of his head.
"No covering your pretty face."
Hearing Toji's voice again made you clench around his fingers, a feeling that lured a smirk onto his lips. You felt like you were delving into insanity with every beckoning motion he made, but when his lips enveloped your throbbing clit, your entire body jolted, earning a hum of warning from him as he gripped your hip, holding you steady in place. His cock twitched mercilessly at the sound of your bitten back moans and the sharp, stuttered breaths he stole from you. You nearly choke on your spit when he picks up the pace, a silent but very obvious request for you to cum on his fingers. His fingertips keep brushing against your sensitive spot, the precision turning you to mush. His lips attach to your clit again, suckling on the bud as his fingers continue to plunge into you.
Toji looks up at you through his eyelashes and in an instant, his shoulders lose the remaining tension they carried from before. You look so graceful, like some sort of goddess, with your eyes closed and those glimmering tears gliding down your face. He feels so much better just looking at you, watching your pretty eyes flutter open and your lips part to breathe. This is why the talking part comes after. By the time he's finished between your thighs, he's a lot more calm and level headed than when he first got home. Just being able to see you and hold you would have been enough to dissipate his stress, but as always, you being the angel that you are, you allowed him to use you as he pleased to unwind.
Your back arches off the bed and again, you taste iron on your tongue. Your head is thrown back into the pillow, your hands gripping the pillowcase tightly as you cum all over Toji's fingers. His tongue gently laps at your clit, a contrast to the motion of his fingers inside you. You ended up breaking, your moans flooding out with every bit of pleasure coursing through you. You gasped out a few apologies, and tried to quiet down again after your fourth breathy "s-sorry".
Toji just hums, too distracted by the feeling of your juices dripping down his palm. He retracts his fingers and tongue from your cunt when your hips start jerking away from him and he pops the digits into his mouth, licking them, as well as his palm, clean because he's never been one to waste even a drop of your sweetness. His hands are warm on your thighs, squeezing the plush flesh, comfortingly, while you work to recover your breath. He plants kisses on your thighs, not stopping until he hears your breathing regulate.
Once your chest moves at a calm and steady pace, he puts your panties back on and tosses your shorts somewhere on the floor, before crawling up the bed to level with you. He pulls you into him and brings your leg up, resting it over his hip. His arms are wrapped around you, while he presses multiple quick kisses to your forehead, a silent act of gratitude for disarming him.
"What's up, baby? Did the job go okay?" You murmur, your eyes trailing up from his lips to meet his gaze.
"Better than okay if i'm home with you, doll." His hand glides up from where it rests on your hip, and goes beneath your shirt to splay over your warm, bare waist. "Missed you," he says, lowly, a smirk on his face as he leans in closer. Close enough for his lips to nearly ghost yours.
"Did you?" You respond, easing forward a little more, still not meeting his lips.
"Lots. So fucking much." You giggle when he leans forward, chasing your lips as you inch back, away from him. "Quit teasing, baby. Stay."
You let out another sweet giggle, as you wait for Toji to close the distance between your lips. The kisses are gentle—soft and loving— while still having his longing for you imbued into them. Your cheeks are warm when the kiss is finally broken.
"I need a nap," you murmur, tiredly.
A chuckle rumbles through his chest. "Yeah, I drained your energy, huh?"
"It's okay." You smile at the lingering warmth in his gaze. "I'm here for you whenever and however you need me. I got you, baby."
In that moment, Toji feels like he could crush you in his arms until your chest caves in, like he could lock you in a kiss until you're teary eyed and gasping for air, like he could break your hand from holding it so tight. The feelings you stir in him are strong to the point of being disastrous, and you're such a delicate thing, unknowing, with no signs of fear as you lie so close to him.
"What am I gonna do with you, sweetheart?" Green eyes trace your features and the soft expression they create. "You make being away from you so damn hard." Goosebumps rise and settle with every absentminded drag of Toji's palm on your waist. "Sometimes, I don't wanna see anyone other than you. Everyone else is so shitty and... I just don't care." He sighs. Your attentiveness is calming to him. You're hanging on to every word he says. "You're the only person I wanted to see today. Only you. I made everyone's day hell because I couldn't stay home with you."
"Well, you're home with me, now," you say, smiling. "And we have the rest of the day to spend together. We can do anything you want, but I need you to relax for a little, before anything, my love. I know you're tired."
"Oh, I am so relaxed. Got everything I need right here." Toji's heavy hand comes down on your ass, a firm squeeze following, luring a gasp and a shocked "Toji" from you. He smirks at your little giggle. He knows you like when he does stupid things like that, and he likes making you laugh so he keeps doing them.
"Wanna take a nap with me?" You ask, tiredness washing over you, again. Toji has a knack at getting you to fall asleep, easily. His hands work wonders at soothing you, despite how often he says that they're too rough to bring you any comfort.
"Hell yeah, mama," he responds, ready to get much needed rest with you. You immediately start feeling sleepier when his hand goes beneath your shirt, allowing him to stroke your back in the way he knows turns you into a sleeping, drooling mess.
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luveline · 3 days
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could you please write something with bombshell reader and spencer where there is a misunderstanding and she thinks he is cheating on her?? or anything angsty? love your work and just want to tell you how you are the best author in this fandom! besos <333
thanks so much, hope this is okay! fem, 1.2k
You bend forward and breathe. 
Rough breathing. Audibly disjointed, and panicked, and drawing attention. You clasp at the side of the counter in the office kitchen and everyone standing around you goes silent. 
Someone must tell someone who tells someone, because Anderson makes his way to your side soon after. “Y/N, do you need me to get someone?” he asks. 
“Hotch?” you ask. 
“Sure. Do you want to sit down?” 
Your mouth isn’t calibrated to your mind. Your answer takes time. “I’m okay.” 
You blink hard. Your lashes are sticky, mascara wet in the corners and pulling on each other as you force yourself to keep them open. When Hotch collects you, it is with an immense tenderness, and a poorly concealed confusion. “Hey, come on,” he says, guiding you toward the office doors, “let’s find somewhere quieter.” 
You’re three steps down the hallway when you stop. You cover your face with both hands. 
Your entire world just got rocked… you don’t even know how to say it. You can’t stop seeing it, his hand on her shoulder, his head tilted to one side like he always does with you, like he’s going to kiss her cheek. And she’d just let him do it. 
“What happened?” 
“They were kissing.” 
Hotch looks down at you patiently. “Who?” 
“Spencer and JJ.” You swallow down bile. Your voice sounds far away, “They were so close…” 
“Are you sure?” 
“No… Just, it looked like they were. She had her arms around him, he…” 
You blink hard again, but the panic, the agony remains. You could see it, Spencer kissing her, and it just tore you to pieces right then and there. How could he do that to you? The stereotypical you’d always expected to be above races through your head. Weren’t you too much to lose? 
“They were too close,” you say more firmly. 
“Alright,” Hotch says softly. Then, because he’s your friend, even if you’ve thrust him into an awkward position. “I can work this out for you, if you want. I can kill him for you if necessary.” 
“That’s not funny,” you say, because even if it were, it’s way too soon. 
“I’m not joking. If Spencer ever did that to you, I’d… well, I wouldn’t hurt him, but he would lose my respect, and he would lose yours. Do you believe Spencer would put that at risk?” 
“You think I’m overreacting.” 
Hotch gives you a look. Full Hotchner. Understanding, patient, a little humorous. “I honestly can’t imagine a world where Spencer does something that would hurt you, that’s all. I’m not trying to mock you. I’m not saying you can’t be upset.” 
You realise after a few deep breaths that he was trying to drive you from a panic attack, and he did it successfully. You swallow a nervous lump.
“Thank you.” 
“You’re welcome.”
“I think I can kill him.”
“I don’t doubt it. Do you want to?” 
“Depends on what I saw,” you mutter, turning away from the glass office doors as they open. 
“Well… perhaps you can–”
“Hey, what are you guys doing out here?” Spencer interrupts, breathless as he slides around Hotch and takes your arm in his hand. “Angel, I need your help, urgently. JJ’s earring got caught in my hair, I’m pretty sure I’m bald.” 
You squint at him, still a little breathless yourself. 
“Hey, are you okay?” he asks, looking between you and Hotch with regret. “What’s wrong? You look sick.”
“What did JJ do?” you ask. 
“Angel?” 
He squints. When you fail to offer a reason, he tips his head down to show you the top of his head. “Am I bald? She dropped her pencil case and I tried to grab it, and she yanked back. I tried to stop her from ripping it out, but she said I had to stop being a big baby.” 
He laughs. Hotch lets out an audible breath. 
“I’m hideous,” Spencer surmises from your silence. 
“I didn’t really look.” 
Spencer looks at Hotch. “Can you tell me what’s wrong? Please?” 
You send Hotch a look that says please, don’t.  
“I just felt a bit panicked,” you confess, a half truth to spare your dignity.
“I brought her out here for some quiet,” Hotch says. 
Spencer frowns and holds your arm again with more softness. “You did? Are you feeling better now? You know, the sudden onset of panic is often caused by a process called overbreathing, have you felt that happen to you recently? It’s accidental hyperventilation. Low carbon dioxide in the blood.” His frown deepens. “Unless it’s not that. Are you worried about something?” 
You watch as his hand glides further up, his thumb rubbing into the soft fat of your upper arm. 
“Worried about your hairline,” you mumble. 
Look, you’ll tell Spencer eventually, maybe. But for now your head hurts and you really had almost spun yourself into an anxiety attack, and you need the rest, and meeting his eyes isn’t easy. 
If he were lying about the earring, you’d be able to tell. If he’d kissed JJ, the guilt would be pouring off of him. 
“I can trust you to look after her?” Hotch asks. 
“When can’t you?” Spencer asks sincerely. 
Footsteps. A door opening. 
You and Spencer alone, his voice warm with concern. “Are you okay? Really okay?” 
“Can you hug me?” 
“Sure I can.” He slips his arms through yours and pulls you in. “Do you need something? Listening to music can help, I have my headphones on my desk. Or we can just– walk.” His hand spread wide over your shoulder. “You’re shaking.” 
“I am?” 
“Just a little…” 
You try your best to stand completely still. 
“Oh,” he says softly, pulling you with more force toward his chest, “I’m sorry, I had no idea you weren’t feeling okay today. But it’ll be okay, I promise. I got you.” 
It’s not often you feel like the smaller person in your relationship, and he doesn’t make you feel small, but the depth of his promise gives him this bigness that dulls the panic. Spencer… he really wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. You aren’t at fault for thinking they were too close, but there’s an explanation, and for now that’s enough to make you feel better. 
“How much hair did she rip out, sweetheart?” you murmur, leaning back just far to see his face, not wanting to disturb the stable quiet. “Does it hurt?” 
“No, I’m fine. Honestly I’m more worried about you than my hair.” 
“Can I explain it to you later?” 
“You’ll sleep over?” he asks, lips thinning into a smile. 
“Yeah.” 
“We’ll talk about it later,” he says. 
You close your eyes as he cups your face with both hands. Later, when you tell him, he isn’t offended, just sorry. Necessary or not, he apologises and holds you with so much tenderness you’re assured again that Spencer hurting you would only ever be an accident.
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cockkette · 2 days
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baby alonso
charles leclerc x alonso!reader
warnings - swearing, google translate spanish, dad!fernando, tomfoolery + shenanigans (it is alonso!reader so are we suprised), i think that's it xoxo
face claim - girls on pinterest
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y/n.alonso
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liked by astonmartinf1, fernandoalo_oficial and 409,345 others
y/n.alonso: causing chaos in the aston garage per usual 😘
comments
astonmartinf1: not too much chaos though... right
y/n.alonso: of course
fernandoalo_oficial: my daughter is an angel and can do no wrong 🤨
user1: praise the alonso father daughter duo we all say in unison
user2: and to think this man committed war crimes
y/n.alonso: allegedly* 🙄
liked by fernandoalo_oficial
fernandoalo_oficial: now that you finished with that waste of time you can come to every race just like when you were little cariño!!
y/n.alonso: by 'that waste of time' do you mean the university that you payed for?
fernandoalo_oficial: yes i'm glad we are on the same page mija 🩷
user3: you heard it here first fernando alonso says university isn't important
astonmartinf1: this is not the view if the aston martin f1 team or any of our sponsors
user4: is he trying to kill admin?
astonmartinf1: i fear he might be 🥲
user5: baby alonso is the paddock princess
user6: she is living the dream for real
y/n.alonso: it is pretty sweet being a nepo child 💪
lance_stroll: you know it 😎
user7: i'm praying for aston points
y/n.alonso: hang on i'll pull some strings brb
y/n.alonso: dad! lance! score some points!
liked by astonmartinf1
user8: she's so pretty 😍
charles_leclerc: she really is
carlossainz55: bro do you actually have a death wish
fernandoalo_oficial: i'll see you on the track leclerc 🙂
y/n.alonso: papá!
astonmartinf1
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liked by fernandoalo_oficial, y/n.alonso and 245,071 others
tagged: fernandoalo_oficial, lance_stroll and y/n.alonso
astonmartinf1: race weekend with a special guest 😉
comments
user9: we love baby alonso
user10: BABY ALONSO
user11: get her to sort aston martin tf out
y/n.alonso: guys i'm trying my best 😔
fernandoalo_oficial: mija lawrence is going to make me go to another pr training session if you keep doing this
user12: the king can't get locked up in pr jail!!
charles_leclerc: i might have to swing by the aston garage 😉
fernandoalo_oficial: you might fucking not
charles_leclerc: yes fernando, sorry fernando
user13: charles is going to get himself run off the track
user14: charles is a braver man than me fernando might kill him
y/n.alonso: thank you for having me! it's always so so much fun 🩷
liked by astonmartinf1
user15: petition for y/n to be at every race ever please
user16: where do i sign
user17: her paddock fits are literally everything to me
lance_stroll: she has started to give me fashion tips to 'inspire' me please don't encourage her
danielricciardo: you might want to start taking the advice...
lance_stroll: oh 😦
fernandoalo_oficial
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liked by y/n.alonso, charles_leclerc and 324,391 others
fernandoalo_oficial: i think i need to fire my new race engineer she's mean
comments
y/n.alonso: boo 👎👎
fernandoalo_oficial: don't boo your own father
y/n.alonso: don't be a boring old man
sebastianvettel: she's got you there mate
fernandoalo_oficial: what the fuck are you doing here!?
jensonbutton: she gagged you fr 💅
aussiegrit: ate and left no crumbs
sebastianvettel: slay 💋
fernandoalo_oficial: what is actually happening
user18: i swear they will never miss an opportunity to try humble nando
liked by sebastianvettel, jensonbutton and aussiegrit
user19: i'm sure charles wouldn't mind having y/n as a race engineer
fernandoalo_oficial: no.
user20: the way i would never speak again
user21: noo i would love them together
liked by charles_leclerc
user22: in my head they ARE together
astonmartinf1: i mean we did get points this weekend soooo...
y/n.alonso: you're welcome xxx
y/n.alonso
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liked by charles_leclerc, astonmartinf1 and 283,912 others
y/n.alonso: home sweet home 🏠
comments
user23: how is charles always in the likes before me? i have notifications on?!?
charles_leclerc: you snooze you lose mate
user24: he really is just like us (in love with y/n)
user25: too bad he's too scared of alonso to do anything about it 🤷‍♀️
yourbestfriend: your outfits always eat pretty girl!
y/n.alonso: aww thank you baby
user26: oh to be called baby by y/n
liked by charles_leclerc
fernandoalo_oficial: have fun!
fernandoalo_oficial: not too much fun though be careful and safe
y/n.alonso: yes papa
user27: he forgot who his daughter was for a second there
liked by fernandoalo_oficial
astonmartinf1: see you next race week!
y/n.alonso: wouldn't miss it!
user28: yesss
iamrebeccad: i miss you (and your gossip)
y/n.alonso: miss you too (don't worry i have plenty more)
user29: show it to me rachel!!!!
charles_leclerc: i'm in madrid too we should meet up
fernandoalo_oficial: what are you doing??
y/n.alonso: i might take you up on that offer cha 🤭
fernandoalo_oficial: noooo stop this
user30: this is sending me 😂
user31: the way they are fully ignoring him
user32: i won't ever get over y/n calling him cha
liked by charles_leclerc
charles_leclerc
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liked by y/n.alonso, carlossainz55and 592,842 others
charles_leclerc: time to unwind
comments
user33: wait is that y/n???
user34: it totally looks like her
user35: my chay/n heart can't take this
user36: the matching shirt with the dress? please!!!
user37: charles + spain = slaggy pictures
user38: and we thank him for it
liked by y/n.alonso
user39: omg y/n does not give a fuck
carlossainz55: where was my invite bro?
charles_leclerc: i'm so sorry i was too busy...
carlosainz55: i thought it was bros before hoes
chalres_leclerc: nah my hoe is 4 life
user40: so unserious i swear
pierregasly: i love knowing things nobody else knows
user41: tell me please
user42: pierre is my biggest opp rn
pierregasly: don't hate the player hate the game
user43: he is the king of gossip
liked by charles_leclerc
user44: i've been manifesting this for months i hope it's y/n
user45: oh so you're crazy crazy?
y/n.alonso
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liked by yourbestfriend, charles_leclerc and 12,812 others
caption- look who i bumped into 😉
replies
charles_leclerc: you say this like we didn't come here together
y/n.alonso: i'm trying to be mysterious and nonchalant
charles_leclerc: dork 🤓
y/n.alonso: you know you love it
user46: OMG
user47: this is so important to me
fernandoalo_oficial: tell him not to try anything
y/n.alonso: whatever papa 🙄
charles_leclerc
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liked by y/n.alonso, carlossainz55 and 872,849 others
tagged: y/n.alonso
charles_leclerc: happy 6 months mon amour 🩷
comments
user48: they are already my favorite couple ever
user49: the way i will be yapping about them i am about to get at least 10 times more annoying
user50: as you should tbh
user51: i'm so so happy for them but this might take fernando out
user52: i just know he is being restrained by aston martin rn so he can't comment
astonmartinf1: 🤐
user53: the goat is being silenced
pierregasly: now the secret is out i feel less special
user54: it's a tough life out here for the gossipy hoes
pierregasly: don't i know it
y/n.alonso: i love you
charles_leclerc: i love you more
user55: ew are they going to start being sappy on main now
pierregasly: i fear they might
liked by charles_leclerc and y/n.alonso
oscarpiastri: bwoah
user56: felt that
user57: charles has... game?
maxverstappen1: we are all as surprised as you are mate
user58: flabbergasted fr
maxverstappen1: he bamboozled us all with his loserness
user59: max i know you're not talking rn
y/n.alonso
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liked by iamrebeccad, charles_leclerc and 17251 others
caption- this jacket looks supa cute!
replies
fernandoalo_oficial: ewww it's so ugly 🤢
y/n.alonso: papa i'm sorry for not telling you about charles earlier
fernandoalo_oficial: i'm not over it yet i feel betrayed
fernandoalo_oficial: i just need time mija
y/n.alonso: you are so dramatic old man
fernandoalo_oficial: what the sigma?
user60: my favorite wag and nepo baby
charles_leclerc: please tell me you bought it mon coeur
y/n.alonso: yep! and when you get back to the hotel i'll be waiting for you wearing just that
charles_leclerc: fuck i'm on my way right now i'll just get the food delivered you aren't going anywhere
y/n.alonso: yes sir
charles_leclerc: you kill me cherie
user61: I JUST KNOW CHARLES IS LOSING HIS SHIT
charles_leclerc
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liked by yourbestfriend, fernandoalo_oficial and 436,592 others
tagged: y/n.alonso
charles_leclerc: my ferrari girl ❤️
comments
fernandoalo_oficial: i'm still mad but no one told me but this is actually kind of cute ig
charles_leclerc: woo he likes me now
y/.alonso: don't push it amor 💋
user62: i'm sobbing he loves her so much
user63: if my bf ain't like this then i don't want it
y/n.alonso: he is pretty great icl
fernandoalo_oficial: i think i preferred when i didn't know about this... now you don't shut up about him
user64: she is so me
y/n.alonso: i'm you're ferrari girl
charles_leclerc: that's right baby
user65: shut up shut up i can't handle this
user66: they are literally everything
user67: i don't know how charles managed to hide this for 6 months
user68: now he posts y/n all the time 🤭
user69: ikr its so cute!!
carlossainz55: he can't keep a secret to save his life so he just yapped to me and pierre all. the. time
pierregasly: and he wasn't exactly subtle in the comments 🤨
scuderiaferrari: y/n is a ferrari girl confirmed 😦
liked by y/n.alonso
user70: everyone is a ferrari fan
user71: even if they are not, they are a ferrari fan
a/n - thank you for reading i hope you enjoyed and as always any feedback is apppreciated <3
735 notes · View notes
Note
logan having reader sit on his lap and he teasingly starts to bounce his knee from where we’re sitting
A/N: The reader is a female and wearing a dress, this turned smutty.
Request are open! I'm always open to ideas <3 and lmk if you'd like to be added to my taglist
I really appreciate all of the love you guys have been giving to my Logan works, it means the world to me and just makes me want to post even more. if you do enjoy my work please continue liking, reblogging, and commenting it helps so much with motivation <3
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Logan always wanted you as close as possible. During family dinners, he made sure you had the sit next to him. When you came over for a movie night, he made sure you were next to him so you could cuddle into him and not have to be next to Wade. If there was ever a scenario where you had to sit, he wanted you by him.
Wade was having a little get-together with everyone, and you left to get more drinks after dinner. When you got back, you went to the kitchen and put all the drinks in the fridge before going back to sit with Logan only to discover your seat was taken. Oh, how awful... wherever will you sit? You looked over to Logan with a pout, and you were expecting to see him just shrug and not make a big deal of it, but you were met with his smirk. A faint blush dusted your cheeks seeing his smirk. You knew he was up to something.
You were killing him all night. You wore his favorite little dress. He always said it made you look even more like a princess. While you were gone, he decided that if you were going to tease him, he could do the same. Two can play this game, princess.
"Everything alright, princess?" He asked almost in a condensing way. "You know, Al was telling me about her latest bingo night. You should really come listen," he said, holding his arm out, waiting for you to walk into his arms. He waited until you were in arms reach before pulling you into his lap.
You fell into his lap with a quiet oof. It wasn't an uncomfortable fit, his lap was bigger than you realized and as you were sitting your mind started to wander 'how come you'd never sit on his lap before?' You leaned into his chest and got more comfortable. It was a really nice seat, his strong arms holding you, his scent surrounding you, it was comforting and as you listened to Al's story you felt yourself start to relax for the first time in a few weeks.
That was until you felt his hands begin to wander. Your body tensed up, and you didn't have to turn around to know he was smirking wider than before. That bastard knew what he was starting. "Relax darlin' ain't gonna bite...yet," he hums as he nudges your neck with his nose, taking pride in hearing how your heart skips a beat. "Beat you'd love that, wouldn't you? Love having me mark my girl, " he teases you as his leg starts to bounce.
"L-lo?" You muttered a little confused about what he was doing. He shushes you quietly. "Let me try something, darlin." You nodded and tried to focus on Al's story, but it was getting harder and harder as Logan started to move his leg a bit faster. He could smell how wet you were getting, not to mention feel it on his jeans. As you were moving against his leg you felt your clit rub against him more and more. Your mind was starting to get fuzzy, and all you could really focus on was him on you, one hand moving to your ass while the other stayed firmly on your hip, his lips traveling across the skin of your neck and your panties rubbing against his jeans. Fuck he was trying to kill you.
Just as you were about to cum his teeth caught your ear, you chocked on a moan making him tsk against you "gotta be quiet, don't want everyone to know you're such a slut for me"
You were trying to squirm out of his grasp and fight back your moans as you came on his leg. He cooed and praised you while kissing your neck, "Such a good girl for me, making such a pretty mess for me, princess." You fell against him thinking he'd give you a break, but as he continued moving you along his leg, you knew it was going to be a long night.
Tagging:
@userchai
@mahi-tamashi
@100percentlazybonez
@lanassmarty
@western-pyro
@misscrissfemmefatale
@marit332
@navs-bhat
@fluffy-b33z
@chaimshelii
531 notes · View notes
Text
Family Man Part 2
Yandere!Gojo Satoru x reader
Part One
Word Count: 8.9k
thx to a very lovely commissioner!!!
Synopsis : Two months after Satoshi’s death, you and your daughter struggle to move on. You’re so lucky that Gojo is there to pick up the pieces.
(Yandere, smut, oral sex both m/f receiving, lactation kink, implied depression, masochistic gojo, ooc gojo, never rlly fixed that, reader has dark skin, xenophobia(NOT by gojo))
Sometimes, you're in bed, and feel like he's right beside you. 
For a moment, the last two months disappear. You feel whole again. Sometimes, it’s enough to make you turn around, words on your tongue, already ready to smile and greet him with a kiss. 
He isn't there. Nothing's behind you. 
And you feel empty all over again. 
It's better somedays. The emptiness. It's like a looming visage of gloom. Farther away one day, in your bed the next. Lately, it's growing bigger and bigger. A dark cloud on your shoulder, resting heavier and heavier on your back. 
Grief. Mourning. Loss. 
When you open the door, the mailman smiles cheerily at you. 
"Morning!" He chirps. "Lovely weather we're having today."
You nod, silent as he begins to dig through his bag. He's younger than you, you note. By a decade, at the very least. Barely in his twenties. When you were his age, you were still back home, in the village. When you were his age, Japan was just a faraway country, hardly worth your notice. 
He hands you your dues. You take them with a respectful thank you. And then you wait for the inevitable. 
On cue, his smile fades. Something pitying fills his gaze. You force yourself to stare right back at him. Insecurity bites at you, and you know he's staring at your dull face. The circles underneath your eyes. 
In the background, Reina babbles. He's forced to take his eyes off of you momentarily. 
"I heard about your husband." He starts, still staring inside your home. Your hands tighten into fists. "I'm sorry for your loss." 
He bows. So do you. 
"Thank you." You tell him, rehearsed, just like you practiced millions and millions of times. "I...appreciate it." 
He smiles, as if he think he did something, made your life a little easier. You let him bathe in his graciousness, before you shut the door. Away from the sunlight, away from fabricated sympathies. You finally feel like you can breathe again. 
It's been like this ever since Satoshi died. 
Car wreck. Some drunk had driven too close to the curb. Satoshi had been walking home. He'd missed the bus, he does that often. It's a usual quirk of his, you'd often found it adorably clumsy. Being late was harmless. He wasn't supposed to die for it. It'd been an instant kill, for the both of them. No other witnesses. The scene was cleaned up by the time you got there. The officers kept you in dread for four hours. In that time, you could almost convince yourself that it wasn't him. The reason why he wasn't answering your calls was because his phone had died. He was lost on the other side of town. He was anywhere else, doing anything else. 
You were brought to identify the body. Your eyes couldn’t deny what you saw.
You think a part of yourself died with your husband, too. You drift through life like a ghost. Mindless, numb. Colors have all bled into grayish blues. You don’t really feel much of anything anymore.
Reina squeals. You blink back to reality.
She’d dropped her toy. You pick it up. It was a purple stuffed rabbit. Satoshi had gotten it for her the day she was born. She doesn’t even sleep without it.
These days, Reina is the only thing that makes you get up in the morning, even when you don’t want to. She’s the only thing you push yourself for.
You don’t know where you’d be without her.
She’s giggles when you hand it back. She doesn’t even know. How can you even begin to tell your infant that her father is no longer coming home? Someone so new at life should not experience death this soon. It’s a sin. Someone has cursed her. It’s the only explanation you could give.
You kiss her on the top of her head. Her baby hairs are still growing. They resemble yours. Every part of her was you. When you look at her, you don’t see Satoshi.
You used to tease him about it; now, you wish there was just a tiny bit of him on her face.
Or maybe it was a good thing? Did you even want to see the man you loved, mourned for, and hated to think about in your daughter’s eyes? Would it break you even further?
You don’t have to think about questions like those. You have more important things to worry about. When you rifle through the mail, your heart sinks.
Warnings, bills, everything that Satoshi used to handle. Even when your world stopped, the rest of the planet didn’t: ever turning, ever malevolent.
You place the bills down. Reina babbles something.
You bend down to pick her up, she screams in delight when you place her on your lap, peppering her face with kisses.
And maybe your world hadn’t stopped, not just yet.
“There are stains on your blouse.”
You glance down before shrugging.
“Reina dropped her food.” You shrug. “I didn’t have time to clean it up.”
Kiyo doesn’t look very happy about your excuse. She doesn’t say anything about it, preferring to glare at you in silent disapproval as she always does. Usually, you’d have Satoshi acting as a barrier between you and your mother-in-law. For obvious reasons, that wasn’t feasible at the moment.
Reina was being entertained by your father-in-law. Satoshi had inherited Isamu’s bald spot as well as his gentleness. Reina kicked her feet as Isamu muttered soft words, as though they were communicating, even though Reina hadn’t even said her first words yet.
Another milestone Satoshi would miss.
“We made adjustments to the will,” Kiyo announces. “Everything will be passed onto Reina when she comes of age.”
You nod, not very interested in politics and lands. Satoshi came from a traditional family. Japanese nobility, though he wasn’t fond of talking about his background. You were always fine with it. You never married him for the money, despite what your mother-in-law thinks.
On cue, Kiyo snaps her fingers. You blink in her direction.
She frowns, but you’ve never seen her smile in your presence.
“I would appreciate if you could pay attention when discussing my grandchild’s future.” She more or less hisses.
“I am,” you give. “Trust me, no one else is more invested in my daughter’s future than me.”
It makes her even more mad, but you’re too drained to play ‘submissive daughter-in-law’ with her. From the moment Satoshi introduced you as his fiance’, Kiyo had hated you. Nothing you did could make her like you. Not even when you learned the language perfectly, immersed yourself in Japanese culture.
She never said it out loud, but you knew what she thought of you. She wanted someone different for her son: someone with pale skin, straight hair, and Japanese heritage.
You wonder if she blames you for his death.
“You haven't gone to visit him,” She says, after she breaks her death stare, “you should.”
A part of you wants to say no, but you’re in her home, and you know she doesn’t take it lightly when guests (not family, you were not family) reject her. So you do as she suggested. You rise, glancing at Reina before ultimately stepping out of Satoshi’s childhood home.
He was just as you had left him. His gravestone stood tall and proud. Even next to all the other graves, his was the tallest. It must be Kiyo’s doing. No matter the gripes she had about you, her child would always reach for the skies.
His incense had to be switched. You did so, throwing out the burnt sticks and replacing them with new ones. You watched the smoke flicker away from his altar. A lone picture of him, a shy smile. It was from back when he was younger. His hair was still there. An office job hadn’t dulled his eyes.
You wanted to keep the ashes. Just a tiny piece of him, tucked by your own altar you had. Kiyo had refused, wanting the entire body to be cremated and kept in one piece. Too broken, you hadn’t pushed. Now, all you were left with his clothes and the fading scent on the pillows. You regret not fighting more that day.
You don’t cry. Not today. A part of you is proud. It feels like it’s much too early to feel so numb to this grave. It’s too early for this to feel normal.
You touch the cold stone. It’s smooth underneath your fingertips.
Your in-laws are right inside the house. You still feel lonely.
“You shouldn’t have left.” You told the tomb. “You shouldn’t have abandoned me like this.”
When you curse Satoshi’s grave, you could have sworn you felt a tiny tingle by your neck.
On Thursdays, you take Reina shopping.
She’s a hit with the local farmers market. The shopkeepers coo at her giggles and beautiful eyes as you haggle prices for vegetables and grains. It’s nice to get back on routine. Even with everything going on.
The bills were still on the counter when you left. More and more were coming in. You feel like you were being buried alive.
Reina kicks her feet. When you look at her, her chubby cheeks are stretched in the wide smile. You smile back, and then you pepper her face with kisses. These days, you’ve opted out of the bus, trying to save some money. It’ll just be until you find a job. Then, you can take as many Air-conditioned rides as you want.
There’s a honk. You ignore it. A car rolls to a stop beside the sidewalk. You take a peek, and then you stop and stare.
“Mr. Gojo?” You ask.
“Hey! Long time!” The man waves cheerily.
You give a timid smile, waving. Reina, your polar opposite, screams in delight. She frantically leans out of your arms as though she could get to Gojo by sheer will. You quickly rearrange your hands to balance her.
“What’re you doing out there?” He frowns. “Especially in this heat?”
“Ah.” Subconsciously, you wipe the sweat off your neck. “We were heading home from the market.”
He brightens. “Wanna hop in? It’s way too hot to walk that far.”
You smile, about to politely decline but then you remember infants shouldn’t be in this weather for too long.
Gojo’s car is luxurious, but the biggest relief is the cool air blowing over your heated skin. Reina is ecstatic to be next to Gojo. She babbles something, reaching out her tiny arms. Gojo takes her immediately.
“And how’s the prettiest girl in the world doing, today?” He grins, lifting her above his head. She coos.
You’re not really sure how Gojo walked into your life. You met him once before. That day when Satoshi had a mental breakdown and practically ran away from home. Gojo was so ansty back then, and it made sense why he and your husband got along so well.
He was the one who brought home Satoshi’s essentials from work—his computer, his notes—and then he started delivering Satoshi’s work mail. Then, sometimes, he’d stop by for lunch. And then he started bringing toys for Reina. Two months passed, and you know him now.
Not well. But you know Gojo enough to slip into the passenger seat, watching how he handles Reina.
“Okay, Car ride!” He tells her. She claps her hands as he gently hands her back to you.
“Thank you again, Mr. Gojo.” You tell him. “Really, this means a lot.”
He waves you off, starting the car. “Don’t worry about it, Seriously. Got nothin’ better to do anyway. Also, I told you already, call me Satoru.”
You smile, shifting away. You don’t know why Gojo is insistent on helping a widow. He was the friend of your late husband (though, strangely, Satoshi never spoke of the man before or after the quick introductions). Maybe it’s guilt. But unlike the rest of the people who knew, Gojo never once looked at you like that as though you were in pieces in front of him. It was nice, finally having someone like that. Someone who doesn’t see you as the widow of a dead man.
He was a nice young man. You shouldn’t be so quick to assume everyone has an underlying motive.
Maybe some people were just as they are. Nice.
“Grocery shopping?” He mentions to your bag. It creases under your grip.
You nod. “Dinner. You’re welcome to join, but I’m not making anything special.”
“I’d never pass up a meal from you, ma’am,” Gojo says, happily.
You like to keep to yourself, but he was driving you home. It was the least you could do to pay back his hospitality, as well as the other things he had done for you. Honestly, your bucket for Gojo’s hospitality wasn't yet empty.
When the car rolls to a stop, Gojo hops out, opening the door before you can touch it. You thank him, Reina huddled safely in your arms and fast asleep. Gojo grins, not before grabbing your groceries and leading the way.
Your house is sparser than it had been just months ago. Less decoration. Less silly memoirs. No pictures. You dumped them all, stored them in a tiny box before locking them all in the attic. You couldn’t bring yourself to throw it away.
Gojo waltzes into your home like he owns it. You don’t mind. He’s young, still in his twenties, at his prime. These days, you can feel things start to break down within you. Your shoulder hurts when you sleep on it the wrong way. You have to be more careful about picking up things from off the ground. You can’t tell whether this has to do with the remnants of pregnancy or your age, but you’re envious of Gojo’s youthful strength either way.
He places the bags on the counter. By then, Reina’s awake. She blearily blinks at you. You were hoping she’d stay asleep for a little while longer.
“I can watch her!” Gojo pipes up, extending his hands. Reina’s overjoyed to be handed over. It’s nice to have your hands full with something else other than baby
You listen to them giggle while you get started on dinner. It’s your usual dance. Potatoes. The sounds of boiling water. You want to make something simple, but Gojo is here, and you don’t want to disappoint your guest. By the time you’re back out, it’s nearly an hour, and the food has yet to be served.
They don’t seem to mind. Gojo had taken Reina onto the floor. You don’t complain. It’s where she usually played anyway. He was driving one of her wooden cars on the carpet, running it across the floor, as Reina clapped to her heart’s content. You could only watch, heart strangely numb.
He’s good with her.
Like Satoshi was.
You clear your throat. Gojo looks up.
“Food’s ready.” You tell him with a stiff smile. “Why don’t you wash up? I’ll take care of her.”
“Be good, okay?” He pats Reina’s head before standing up. You take her into your arms.
She’s tired from playing. Reina settles in the crib rather nicely. It’s relieving. When she’s asleep, you can’t bring yourself to leave. You watch her. Her chest rises and falls. She snores. It’s the most adoring noise you’ve ever heard.
When you head back to the kitchen, Gojo’s already back. He grins, clearly eager.
“You cooked a lot.” He comments when you two finally settle down. “Not that I’m complaining!”
“I hope it’s to your liking,” you say as always.
And it is. Gojo never hides from giving his compliments. He’s so genuine and sincere, and it makes you a bit bashful.
“Mrs. Sawai, this stuff right here is sometimes the highlight of my day,” he says. You shake your head.
“It’s true! You have talent. You should open up a restaurant or something! Wait no, don’t do that...you’d be booked for years, and I’ll never eat your cooking again.” That makes you laugh. He seems pleased for some reason.
“Thank you,” you say, “I appreciate that.”
“How was your week? Your students?” You prod.
“Good. They’re all good!” He chirps back. “I was out of town for the week, so returning to my precious students was the best.” He sighs. “Sometimes, I wish I could just pack them all in my suitcase and take ‘em with me. They’re the cutest things.”
He said he taught at a religious school, which you found strange because Gojo didn’t really strike you as religious. Nevertheless, he seemed very passionate about teaching. It was rather endearing.
Did Satoshi ever have that kind of passion for his job?
“Reina reminds me of them. The youth.” Gojo adds. “Endless potential. The kids are all like...seeds, right? They just need the proper care to bloom.”
“That’s a nice way of looking at things,” you say.
When dinner’s over, you gather the utensils and bowls. Gojo offers to help, but you don't bite, insisting that he rests. It gives you time to decompress. As much as you like Gojo, he’s a bit severe. You can’t be around him for too long, he’s too bright. His companionship is much like a furnace. Warm, but too much, and you burn.
When you return, you expect him to put his shoes back on, waiting by the door.
Instead, Gojo is perched on the counter—his hands card through your mail.
You stare. He doesn’t seem particularly surprised at being caught. He doesn’t startle; he barely spares you a glance, perusing over your bills like they were his. You know you should say something. Anger. It should bubble up instead of the shame. You open your mouth—
“How much?” He suddenly asks.
You fumble. “What?”
He waves the envelopes. “How much is it?”
You say nothing. He shrugs, as if that’s an answer itself.
Gojo reaches into his pocket and pulls out a checkbook. You move when he plucks a stray pen from the counter.
“What are you doing?” You ask, incredibly lost.
“I’m not real good with money.” He sheepishly admits before tearing off the slip and handing it to you. “But this should be enough, right?”
You stare at the amount. You’ve never held this much money before.
“I can’t accept this.” You instantly say. Instinct.
You go to hand this back. He puts a hand on his chin.
“Tell you what.” He tells you. “If I gotta take this back, I’m just gonna head to the bank, cash it in myself, and throw all the money into the river.” He grins at your horrified expression. “And it’ll all be in Yuan, so even if someone fishes it out, no one’s gonna be able to use it. One way or another, that money’s getting outta’ my bank.”
His voice softens, akin to butter. It melts into your ears.
“This isn’t out of obligation or anything. I’m giving this to you because I want to help my friend. That’s it.”
Gojo has never looked at you in pity, not like the others. He’s always looked at you like...well, you could never understand his expression. You stare at him. His sunglasses have tilted over, showcasing those gorgeous blue eyes.
Why? Why are you doing this? You want to ask him. It’s killing you inside. Is it pity for the wife of a dead friend? Why was he doing this to you?
You think of Reina. Happy giggling, Reina, with your eyes and your hair.
“It’s not like I don't have any to spare. I’m, like, loaded,” Gojo continues with his usual snark, and you think of the fancy black car parked in front of your tiny house. “And if that isn’t enough for you, just think of it as me paying you back after all those times I’ve eaten your food.”
You lower your gaze when you take the check.
“I’ll pay you back—”
“—I won’t accept it.” He grins, and you have to smile at his tenacity.
“Thank you. No, really.” You keep the check close to your chest. “Thank you, Mr.Gojo.”
He angles his sunglasses down. He looks expectant. Just this once.
“Thank you, Satoru.”
“No problem!” He pops his frames back into place.
You see him off. When he’s behind the wheel, he gives an excited wave. You shyly wave back.
And then you feel a touch right on your back. When you turn, there’s nothing but air.
Sometimes, you dream of home.
Your real home. The village is far, far away from Japan. Where you lived with your parents and siblings and aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents. On sweltering summer nights, you and the other children would sleep on the terrace underneath the stars. There were dirt paths, and rolling hills but the sky was clear every night.
In the village, tradition was everything. You used to hate it. Every day was the same. An endless cycle. You used to dance back then, your family had pushed you into it. As a child, you thought it was stupid.
Maybe that’s what pulled you towards the city—bustling roads, people everywhere. Your college was a town in and of itself. You met so many new people every day.
Satoshi was one of them.
When you brought them to your family, everyone was in awe. He was a foreigner. He was well-off, too; he came from a traditional Japanese family.
It was your Nani who pulled you aside as your family gushed about him.
“Are you sure about this one?” She had asked.
You nodded. Back then, you were young and in love. He was everything you could have dreamed of. New, exciting.
She doesn’t smile.
“Be careful.”
You remembered her words, even after you ran off with Satoshi to Japan. You remembered her words even after Satoshi assured you he wanted you to stay home and he’d work. You remembered her words when Reina was born. You remembered her words when you and Satoshi’s lives were perfect and happy.
And then you woke up.
Your village was gone. Instead of waking up in a pile of your siblings, you were alone on a giant bed.
It’s dark in your home. Satoshi hated having the lights off.
You looked to the crib. Reina was still asleep. During nights like these, you often bring her to sleep with you. It still isn’t enough, sometimes.
You’re a terrible mother. Why isn’t your own daughter enough for you?
Careful not to wake her, you slip out of bed, walking into the closet. You reach up, feeling your way on one of the shelves.
The photo album is dusty. You cough a bit when you open the book.
There’s you. Younger, stupider, garbed in your traditional dance dress. You always found that outfit so itchy. The photo was taken right after you’d placed first in one of your last competitions. Even in the photo, you had this look of disdain, holding that trophy like it was nothing but a heavy burden.
You still have that trophy a decade later.
You flip another page. Your parents. Your cousins. Your Aunts and Uncles. You stare at the photo of you holding your baby cousin. He was the same age as Reina when that picture was taken. That was ten years ago.
You can’t remember the last time you saw your family. Reina hadn’t met her grandparents, her own cousins. You never got the chance to. Satoshi was always so anxious about leaving Japan.
They’ve seen her, through video calls and photos. But that’s different than touching her, bonding with her.
You stare at the photo of you posing with the rest of your siblings and cousins. Strangely, you feel like you robbed something from Reina.
You miss home.
You cry until the album shuts itself closed, and the sun starts peeking through the windows.
“You good?” Satoru suddenly asks.
You blink, eyelashes fluttering as you stare at him. He’s on the floor again, watching Reina as she clacks a few wooden blocks together. It isn’t quiet. The babbling, too. She’d already knocked over the tower Satoru had built. He didn’t seem too upset by her destruction.
“Oh,” you say, “yes. Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.”
As discretely as you can, you rub at your eyes, hoping that would shoo the dark circles away. It doesn’t help.
“I...just haven’t been sleeping too well these days. That’s all.”
Reina says something, not too happy with the lack of attention. Satoru gives her another block. He’d given her a bunch of toys, this time. You weren’t sure where to even store half of them. If he kept this up, pretty soon Reina’s entire room will be filled with dolls mirrors, and blocks.
“What’s been going on?” He asks.
You’re not sure how to answer that. You aren’t sure what’s been going on yourself. All that you know is that it’s getting worse. You can’t sleep at night, most nights like there’s something pressing you down. Things are going missing. You feel like you’re being watched constantly over and over again.
It only goes away whenever Satoru’s around. Maybe that’s why you’re more tolerant of his space.
“It’s nothing,” you say, “I’ve just misplaced a few things. It’s been aggravating looking for them.”
“Hm.” He cocks his head, you can’t decipher his tone. “Really?”
“I’ll find them eventually.”
He’s silent for a few more moments and then—
“Maybe you’re haunted.”
You laugh. It’s mean and sardonic, but you haven’t laughed in a while, and you hide away when Satoru stares.
“A ghost?” You question. “Those don’t exist.”
In the village, superstition was everywhere. Guess that never changed, no matter what corner of the world you ran to.
“Not a ghost.” He corrects. “Maybe something else.”
You hum, unamused. Satoru turns to Reina with an all-too-wide smile on his face.
“It’ll be right behind you, and you won’t even know it.” He tells her. “Then, it’ll draw closer, and closer, and closer until....it gets ya—”
To further his point, his hands shoot out to lightly jostle her. Reina squeals, absolutely thrilled.
Then, Satoru turns to you.
“Or something like that.”
You aren’t impressed.
“Ghosts aren’t real.” You tell him.
“They certainly aren’t.” He agrees. “But other things are.”
Satoshi acted strangely two days before his death.
He was always anxious, but this was even worse than before. Constantly looking behind him, like they’d be something there. You know he wouldn’t sleep. He’d just lay there, shifting in panic.
You don’t prod until you find him in the bathroom in clear hysterics.
“I messed up,” he mumbles over and over again. “I messed up. I messed up.”
“Satoshi.” You beg, kneeling on the tile next to him. “What are you doing? What’s going on?”
“I messed up.” He tells you again. “I keep messing up.”
And then he sobs. He cries so loudly, you’re worried it might wake up Reina. You hug him. Hold him close to your chest, letting him cry himself out.
“I’m sorry.” He tells you. “I’m sorry. I love you. I love Reina. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” You ask.
He looks at you then.
“For cheating.”
You remember every detail. The crinkle in his eyes. The beginning stages of wrinkles in his face. A picture entirely stamped into your memory.
“I forgive you.” You immediately say. “I—I forgive you. We—we can work through this.”
“We can’t.” He shakes his head. “I’m so sorry. You deserve better. She deserves better, too. I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t say anything when you prod. Who, how, when. Your husband cheated on you. You aren’t even allowed to grieve your dying marriage when you have to grieve your dead husband.
You meant what you said. You forgave him. You would have worked through it. Fixed it. Because your marriage with Satoshi was perfect.
Perfect.
Perfect.
It was a perfect marriage when he never stood up for you in front of his mother. It was a perfect marriage when all he did back from work was eat and sleep. It was a perfect marriage when he cheated on you.
Rose-tinted glasses. Maybe your relationship wasn’t the most perfect.
But it was fixable.
Reina’s crying in her crib. The thing on your chest is back.
You fumble through the dark, reaching for her. She’s crying even louder when you pick her up, even when you rock her in your arms.
“Please stop.” You beg. “Please stop crying.”
She doesn’t. The pressure gets bigger.
“Got any plans for the weekend?” Satoru’s asking when you’re finished putting away the groceries. He’d offered you a ride again. You wondered when you stopped being surprised at his frequent pop-ins.
“The same as always,” you respond.
You’re not used to the house being so quiet. Reina’s always doing something. For an infant, she’s rather loud.
But she isn’t here today. Kiyo wanted her Grandaughter for the night. You obliged, letting your Mother-in-law whisk Reina away. Was she even your mother-in-law anymore?
“So nothing?” Satoru prods, and you wonder why he’s so persistent on the answer. Maybe he wants to tease you.
The differences between you and him are staggering. He’s young, still in his twenties, he probably still goes out clubbing, drinking, whatever kids his age are into. You are...older, a mom, unsure if the tight skirts you wore 15 years ago would still fit you.
“If you don't got any plans, why don’t you hang out with me tonight?”
You stare at him.
“Don’t gimme that look. You act like I’m gonna rob you.” He complains. “Let yourself loose a bit. What do you even do for fun, these days?”
That stumped you. Apart from lounging around, sulking, job hunting, revolving around Reina, you haven’t done much. When’s the last time you talked to someone other than Satoru?
“There’s a bar that opened up. Not too far from here.” He muses. “Wanna go?”
You hesitate, “I—I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m not good at handling alcohol—”
“Same! Total lightweight.” He gushes. “It’ll still be fun, though! What do you say?”
Why, you want to ask. Why is he so insistent on spending time with you. Asking about you. About Reina. What does he want from your broken family? Your mind can’t piece together the images—connect the dots.
“Okay,” you say instead.
Three hours later, you’re dressed in the most flattering clothing in the back of your closet. Satoru looks pristine as always, and you wonder if there’s ever a chance he could look any less put together. Under the dim lights, he’s almost glowing. You can’t stare at him for too long.
The conversation is light, not too purposeful. You wander from one topic to the next. He talks about his co-workers. His school. You’ve always wondered about this teaching job. He seemed to never want to shut up about his students, but whenever you try to pry about the details, he starts to drift away. The most you’ve gotten from him was rambling about how it was a private religious school before he sprung into something else.
“Did you have any pets?” He asks, “Growing up, I mean.”
You shrug. “There were a lot of stray dogs, in my hometown. We would feed them, but no. No pets.”
“You?” You prod.
He takes a moment, genuinely thinking.
“My family had a dog, not too long after I was born. After that, nothing.” You were surprised, he answered. The alcohol must make his lips a little looser.
“I think having a dog would be nice,” you muse, mostly to yourself, “maybe an older one. Less energy.”
“What pet do you think I should have?” He asks.
You stare at him. He’s grinning.
“A rock,” you respond, and when he laughs, you laugh a bit, too.
“I like it when you smile like that,” he says when his voice recovers. “You get all blushy.”
You frown, discretely checking your face in the glass.
“I don’t blush.” You say. “My skin’s too dark.”
He tips his sunglasses down, staring at you with those pretty blue eyes. You shift away. His gaze doesn’t let you get far.
“Not really,” he murmurs, tilting his head. “It’s subtle, but it’s still there. It’s a nice color.”
He’s teasing you. You know that. Still, you look away. He laughs again. It sounds like twinkling bells.
“How’s everything holdin’ up with the house?” He asks when you’re nursing your 3rd drink. “I know you had a couple of issues earlier.”
You shrug, lips loose, feeling warm. “I don’t think I have to worry about it. Not anymore.”
“Hm? Why’s that?”
“I’m thinking of going back home.”
He stops messing with his drink. You don’t notice, thoughts hazy.
“Back...to your country?” Satoru asks carefully.
You nod absentmindedly. “I only came here because of Satoshi. Now that he’s...I think it’s best for Reina if we go back.”
You want her to live with her maternal culture. You want her to meet your side of the family finally. Maybe, when she’s older, you can put her in your old dance garments. She’ll probably hate it, much like you did. She’ll be good at it, much like you were.
He’s silent, swirling his glass.
“Really?”
“Yes.” You feel defensive, even when you shouldn’t be. His tone was cool. Yours wasn’t. “It—it’s her home. She should see it.”
“Wasn’t she born here?” Satoru questioned. “Wouldn’t Japan be her home, then?”
You deflate.
“You’re right.” You admit. “Japan is her home, but it isn’t mine.”
You miss home. You miss the village. You’d do anything to go back to the good old times. You’d do anything to be away from this pain.
Japan was empty. Your in-laws barely tolerate you. No friends. No job. The only good memories you had were buried in a tomb, and even those rotted away by lies and deceit.
“I think you should stay,” Satoru says, voice soft.
“Why?” You ask. “I have nothing here.”
“You could.”
You look up. In the dim lights of the bar, he’s breathtaking. Everything you weren’t.
And that everything closes the distance between you and him.
It’s soft. Barely a kiss. His lips are soft; you can smell his shampoo. It lasts for a moment before you’re breaking it. You shy away, staring at the floor beneath you. Your shoes. You can hear your heart. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Satoru follows your mouth. This time, it’s bolder. You can feel his warmth, pressed against your frigid soul. He’s melting you down to bone. There’s a hand on your back, keeping you in place. Fireworks spark at the touch.
It’s been so long since you’ve felt someone like this. Not since...
And then you remember who you’re with, what you’re doing. The ring sits heavy on your finger.
You push away. Satoru falters, and you use that opportunity to stumble to your feet.
“I’m sorry,” You say, “I—I’m—”
You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing. Instead, you turn and flee out the bar. Into the cold frigid night.
You’re drunk. You can feel it in your fingertips, the way your vision gets the slightest bit dizzy when you move too fast. You cling against a random lightpost, checking your phone.
Your place wasn’t that far away. You could walk, right? But it would be safer to call a cab. Better yet, call Kiyo. Call your neighbor. Call anyone?
Oh, you just remembered that you have no one here.
Satoru finds you when you’re already crying. You can feel him on your shoulder before he even says anything.
“Hey,” he says, reaching for you, “c’mon. Let’s get out of the street—”
“Why?” You whirl onto him, so fast that even he’s surprised. “Why are you doing any of this? Reina, me, why do you care so much?”
You’re still crying, but you can feel your tears slow down the tiniest bit. You weren’t breathing. You don’t think he was either.
Satoru opens his mouth. Closes. Opens again. His smile is gone. You can see the imprint of your lipstick on his perfect pout.
“I love you.”
It feels like he just slapped you. A knife in your belly, tearing you apart. Nausea builds in your throat, threatening to spill all over the road. You can’t look at him anymore, it hurts too much. Betrayal. You’re betraying your husband. Your dead cheater husband. 
“Stop.” You beg him anyway, “Don’t say that. Never say that, I can’t think–”
“—Then don’t think.” He insists, sweet, saturated. “Don’t think about any of this.”
He kisses you again, and your mind blanks. You let him this time, and you feel yourself break over it.
This time, Satoru’s the one who breaks it, resting his forehead on yours. You still must look confused. He laughs adoringly.
“C’mon this can’t be too out of left field, right?” He asked. “I mean, I made it pretty obvious.”
He had. You were too preoccupied in your own misery to notice. Offers to drive you to the grocery store. Volunteering to take care of another man’s baby. Satoru has always been direct.
You avoid his gaze, but there’s no where to go.
“Satoru,” you hesitate. “I—I don’t feel that way.”
“I know.” He concedes, trailing his lips down your cheek. You don’t stop him.
“But you need this.” He kisses your neck. “I know you do. You’re so stressed all the time, hm? You need me. Use me. However, you want to.”
Use him. You’ve always used him. What difference would this make?
You still had a chance to stop this. There were so many reasons to stop. You were a recent widow. A single mother. He was so much younger than you—
You kiss him again to stop thinking.
You don’t know what time you stumble through your door.
Satoru hasn’t stopped touching you in the cab, walking up to your patio. If you were sober, you might have been a bit more hysterical about it, now you just wanted him never to stop.
He’s pushing you against the door, slamming it shut with your body weight. You can barely get the words out past his plush lips.
“Bedroom.” You insist.
He pulls away with a laugh. “’course, Babe.”
You’re not sure how to feel about that petname, but you don’t get a moment to complain. He’s effortlessly picking you up, and you settle on the cool comforters moments later.
Your dress is halfway up your thighs. He spares no time, reaching for the back and finding the zipper. It falls apart in his fingers. He peels the fabric off of you with a delighted sigh.
“Fuck, look at you,” he’s saying to the newly uncovered skin. “so so pretty.”
Not used to the attention, you shy away. He doesn’t let you, taking you by the chin so he can kiss you again.
He’s so different now. You feel like you’re seeing a side of him you aren’t supposed to. Long white lashes, pretty blue eyes that are drenched in want and lust. His breathing was elevated. He was excited.
It scares you.
“I...I haven’t done this in a while.” You admit when you pull back. You give him a glance, before resigning yourself to pull away the rest of the dress and dropping it to the floor. “So...Please be nice?”
You sound like a child, unsure and nervous. You hate that you can’t keep the tremor out of your voice.
“Yes, yes.” He’s nodding, staring at you like a drooling dog. “I’ll be so so nice, baby. The nicest. Just lemme’ touch you. Please, please, pretty please?”
You give a tiny nod, and he’s pouncing on you.
He’s insatiable, you don’t think he’d ever get enough. He’s pawing at your bra before it comes off completely beneath his touch. Your panties are gone too, and then you’re entirely bare beneath him.
He doesn't forget about himself, neither do you. Between his ravenous kisses, you manage to take off his jacket. Satoru helps you with his shirt, pulling it off him, showing his toned abs and pale skin. Not a single mark or blemish. He’s absolute perfection.
He must notice your hesitant fingers at his shoulders because he stops sucking on your neck with a distinct pop, still playing with your tits, leaning over to whisper in your ear.
“Touch me,” he says, “I want you to touch me.”
You feel awkward pulling your fingers down to his chest, his stomach. His skin is soft, warm. Your hands are frigid. He shivers when you graze over his abs. His skin is so pale, almost translucent. If you were to pinch him, bite him, the color would show oh so nicely.
When you pull away, he whines, nearly falling over.
“Don’t fucking tease me like that.” The way he says it is so needy. You laugh, gaining the courage to play with his hair.
He gets the control back eventually, pushing you back down so he can devour you properly.
His face is between your legs before you can comprehend it. He’s spreading you open so he can see your pussy. You’re already creaming for him. Your pussy juice is spread across your lips, making your skin glisten and shine. It’d be embarrassing if he wasn’t worse, drooling like a fucking dog before his mouth meets your cunt in a frenzied kiss.
He gives this high-pitched moan that sends a thrill up your spine the more he makes out with your clit, licking and sucking.
“Oh.” You sink against the pillows. “Satoru—Satoru-!—”
“Fuck yes—” his voice is muffled but he doesn’t stop. “You taste so good, baby. like—like fuckin’ heaven—”
You almost double over when his teeth graze your clit. Your hand reaches out immediately to grab and his hair and pull.
It does nothing. He just whines, and when he digs deeper into your pussy, you realize he likes it when you hurt him.
You pull harder and his finger presses its way into your wet hole and just the right angle to make you see stars.
“Fuck baby, ‘can barely fit my fingers.” It would sound like a complaint if he didn’t sound so far gone already. “How are we gonna fit my cock into this pussy, hm?”
He talks too much. When you shove his face deeper into your folds, it seems to shut him up and he’s back to worshipping your dripping cunt.
He’s too good. It’s all so good. You’re squeezing his head between your thighs, sure you’re suffocating him but he doesn’t seem to care. The noise is downright scandalous but you’re too far gone to give a shit about that.
It felt so good to stop thinking.
“Close.” You gasp when you hit that plateau. “I’m close. I’m—”
“Gonna cum?” he asks from underneath you, and it only seems to spur him on. “Gonna cum for me, pretty girl. Cum baby. Just let go. I gotcha’ just please please please—”
It hits and you arch your back, letting your orgasm rush past your body. It fizzes up your spine, right to your tits before you sag back to Earth. Satoru is more that happy to work you through your high before your thighs fall apart against him and he’s detaching himself from your clit with one last part kiss.
Satoru kisses you, famished. You can barely kiss back, following his lips with your own. You can taste yourself on his tongue. It’s a tangy sweetness, warmed from his spit.
“Was I nice?” Satoru asks.
You nod. He smiles.
He pulls back, sitting on his knees. You watch as he fiddles with his boxers, before pulling out his pulsing cock.
It’s not all that thick, but it’s the length that makes you shift, just the tiniest bit. He’s on the larger end. His cock looks puffy and dripping in a way that almost looks painful. He pumps himself a few times, and then you’re reaching out.
Satoru stops, watching as you rise from your earlier position, hand on his cock. Your hand is so much smaller than his, you can barely wrap your fingers around his base. He shivers at the touch, and by the time you’re fisting his cock he faltars, head falling into the crook of your neck.
“Too much?” You ask when he gasps.
“No.” He shakes his head. “No no. Keep going. Please don’t stop.”
That same whine again. Helpless and needy. When you squeeze him, he jolts.
And then you stop. You’re sure he’s about to complain but then you’re lowering yourself, keeping your eyes on him, and you give his cock a tentative lick.
You hadn’t done this in a while, and you weren’t all that sure if you could swallow all of him, but you try your best. You swirl your tongue around his tip, watching as he twitches. His cock jumps in your mouth and you have to hold his base to keep him still for you. He’s so sensitive. Every touch you give him seems to just make him even needier.
He rocks his cock into your mouth. You let him, watching as he babbles on and on.
“So so fucking good, baby.” He’s moaning, head flung back, like it’d be too much to keep looking at you. “Right—right there. Fuck fuck fuck.”
He cums fast, and it’s sudden. He’s barely holding his breath before he’s shuddering and he’s filling your entire mouth. There’s so much of it, you can’t possibly swallow it all. You mouth off his cock with a pop, pumping him until he starts twitching out of overstimulation.
Satoru is panting, still basking in that afterglow as you kiss him. He doesn’t seem too embarrassed about how quick he lasted. Then again, you don’t think he has the brainpower to feel anything right now other than pure lust. Pussydrunk, your brain gives.
You reach up, wiping away the tears collected in the corner of his eyes. A part of you wants to leave it there. He looks good like this. Pretty as an angel.
And then you look down and you see his cock has not gone down at all.
“Oh,” you murmur, “I see you’re healthy.”
“Mmh,” he says back, not exactly words but you’re not looking for a conversation right now.
Your pussy is throbbing. She wants more attention. You’re settling back into your original position as you watch Satoru rifle through his forgotten pants. He pulls out a familiar wrapper. You have to roll your eyes at his preparedness.
“You’re a bit too ready for this.” You note.
“Can you blame me?” He honestly asks. “I’ve been waiting for this for months.”
The casual admission makes you glance away. He laughs at your sudden shyness and you have to wonder how you didn’t see him before.
“Ready, baby?” He asks. This feels familiar, somehow.
He gives his cock two cursory pumps, and then he’s pushing himself into you.
It’s so much all at once. As wet as you were, his cock bullies his way into you with a fierce stretch. It’s enough to make you squeeze your eyes shut. Grin and bear it.
“Shit, you’re so fucking tight.” He curses. “How the hell did you fit a baby through here?” You can’t bring yourself to respond to his usual snark, so you claw at his back, raking your nails through his skin. He hisses and the pain seems to distract him into temporarily shutting up.
By the time, he sits his dick in your pussy, you’re close to breaking. You were right, he was way too big. Bigger than the one person you’ve always been with, so you’re not sure if you have a good gauge on size. Still, your brain short-circuits, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. Mind-numb.
He’s impatient this time, not giving you a chance to adjust before he’s clumsily pulling back out only to ram himself back in. You lurch, grabbing his shoulders to stabilize yourself from his sudden pace.
“Satoru—!” You gasp. “It’s—!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He’s apologizing, but you’re not quite sure how much he actually means it. “I’ve—I’ve just waited so—ah—long and now you’re here and it’s so—”
If it’s even possible, he gets even faster, pushes his cock even deeper into your battered pussy. The squelching of your hole and his whines into your ear make it so much more erotic than it needs to be. You give into your desire, reaching over to sink your teeth into the soft flesh of his neck. The masochist in him purrs in delight.
You notice it first. That familiar soreness in your tits. When you glance down, your nipple is leaking that familiar milky fluid.
Satoru notices too. He stops, sinking his dick entirely into you. You’ve never felt fuller.
“Oh.” You feel heat creep up your neck. You hadn’t fed Reina today, this was bound to happen. “I—I’m sorry. I—I should’ve—”
You expect him to pull out of you awkwardly. Maybe even be disgusted.
Instead, he groans.
“I’m getting dessert now, too?”
“What?”
As your answer, he leans down and latches onto your tit.
He’s messy, smearing milk all over your skin and the other breast. After a while, he picks up his pace again, resuming his pussyfucking. You’re sure the angle must be painful, him bent over you like this, but he makes no complaint. And you could care less about his discomfort right about now.
He alternates between your breasts like he can’t decide which one tastes better. It shouldn’t feel this good, watching him suckle on your tits but you can feel yourself get even tighter. He can feel it, too.
Satoru’s rambling now. You can barely keep up with his incoherent mess.
“Fuck—fuck, you’re close, arentcha’?” he’s slurring his words, spitting them out one after another. “C’mon baby, you wanna cum? Cum, then? Milk my cock, pretty baby. Just like last time.” You should be paying more attention to his words. You don't.
Everything feels like deja vu. You should be paying attention to your own words too. You don’t.
“Mhn.” You moan. “Close. Sato, I’m close. Real real close—”
Your eyes widen. So does his.
You think you just ruined everything.
And then he starts jackhammering himself into you.
“Say it again.” He demands, driving his cock deep into your cunt.
You shake your head, despite your refusal you can’t help but— “Sato, oh God. Please Sato—Don’t—”
“Again, say it again.” His fingers descend to your clit, messily rubbing tiny circles. “Don’t stop saying my name until you’ve cum.”
You obey. Sato, Sato, Sato, Sa—and then you’re tipping over the edge. He fucks you through it, keeping you on that high until he’s shuddering too.
“Fuck baby, I missed you.” He’s whispering in your ear. “I missed you so much.”
You sigh when he kisses you, still coming down to Earth. The kiss his soft, just filled with want, instead of that carnal desire. He pulls away, and just when you’re debating to let him stay the night, he’s pulling out new rubber.
“Another one?” You ask, the dots not quite connecting yet.
“Oh, c’mon.” He grins down at you. “You didn’t think we’d go for just one round, did ya?”
You’re finally back in his arms.
Satoru dreamed of this day. He’s dreamt of this for months, ever since he had to leave you with that scumbag. Now that you’re sleeping peacefully in his arms again, everything is finally right in his world.
He shifts, wanting to bring you closer to his chest, but he winces. Fuck, you really did a number on him. He didn’t know you were into biting. And he can feel the pleasant sting of your nails on his back. He’d need to be careful with his RCT for a while. He wants these marks to last for as long as possible.
And when they fade, he’s sure he won’t have to convince you too much to make more for him.
“Give...them...back.”
Oh right. He’d almost forgotten about that other tiny problem he had.
He turns to the curse. “So, enjoy the show?”
Satoshi is unrecognizable. Malformed, demented. No more eyes, tall enough to reach the ceiling. To a being like Satoru, he was still nothing.
To a non-shaman and an infant, a grade 2 curse was quite the hassle. No wonder your so exhausted these days. Your husband was cursing you.
“Give them back.” The curse rasps. “Give them both back.”
Satoru’s silent, as if he’s really thinking about it.
“Nah, I’m good.” He grins. “This one’s mine now. And about Reina...what do you think suits me best: Dada or Daddy?”
The curse roars. It’s loud enough to shake the walls. Satoru tsks.
“Careful there. You might wake the missus.” He points out.
“Mine...” Satoshi insists. “They were....mine.”
“Were.” Satoru enunciates. “And now, they’re all mine! Sorry about the change in management. Don’t worry, though. I’ll take great care of both of ‘em.”
Always wanting to have the last word, Satoru reaches over and plucks your wedding ring off your limp finger.
“So, that’s where you got attached.” He muses at the metal. “Can’t believe you’re pathetic enough to curse your own wife. Is this 'cause you're still mad about the execution?" He asks, twirling the ring in his palm. "That happened months ago, man, get over it."
A snap of his fingers. Satoshi is gone. The room gets less stuffier. You relax in your sleep, and Satoru is caressing your arm, still studying the ring. It’s cheap. Plated gold with a less valuable metal as the base.
Pathetic. He tosses it carelessly.
A few months later, Satoru proposes with a proper engagement ring.
You say yes.
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naburi · 2 days
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I KNOW I STILL LOVE YOU
WONYOUNG X READER
TAGS: DEEPTHROAT, FINGER PLAY, FINGER SUCKING, MOUTHFUCK, COWGIRL, HARDFUCK
1.5K WORDS
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Dealing with a break up is never easy, it’s been a few weeks now and you still find yourself staring at the ceiling wondering where it goes wrong. Alone in your apartment, these sad songs are lulling you to sleep. A wet sensation awakens you, a slim fingers touch, a pair of familiar eyes gazing up on you while your cock slowly disappears in her mouth.
The eyes that give you pitiful looks when she wants you to buy her ice cream, the same eyes that darts deadly stares when you do something that annoys her, the eyes that want to kill you when she sees you around with any female. This is also the same eyes that teared as she’s asking for a break up. “Won…,” you stuttered while calling the woman who is in between your legs.
Her nose hit your lower abdomen as she engulfed all of your shaft, her gag is not budging as the result of your endless mouthfuck when your libido’s are both high. Her empty gaze is full of eagerness, she herself doesn’t know what she wants or what she is trying to do by showing up in your apartment late at night. All the woman knows is you are with her for the rest of the night.
Wonyoung is lifting up her head, a low groan came out of you as you felt the tightness of her throat. The tight throat that she uses when she needs to apologize for her bratty behavior, the throat that she used to suck away your bad mood. She knows what her mouth can do thus she is shamelessly using it to her advantage, wondering what does that mouth want from you this time.
Her tongue touches the bottom of your shaft grazing upwards to your tip as she slowly lifts her head. Her tongue leaves multiple licks to your tips before raising her head completely. An awkward silence fills the air, you're waiting for her to say she is thinking about you, or she can say she’s missing you lately, or she wants you back and you will believe it because those are the words that you wanted to hear.
Slim fingers reach out your sacks, giving them a soft massages before reaching up to your shaft. A realization hit you, if this is all she wants, then you’ll give her all you got. You reached for Wonyoung's face, reminiscing every time you touched your girlfriend’s pretty face. You touched her face when you found her cute, or the times when you comfort her when she’s crying. You always touched her face when she’s your back then.
Your thumbs felt her lower lips, gently feeling her small soft lips just before sucking your thumb, swirling her tongue while it's inside your mouth, teasing you about what she wants you to do with your cock. You tried to remove your thumb so that she can finally do her work to your waiting cock. She felt your hand moving away thus holding your wrist with her two small hands to put it in place.
Your hand in front of her face, she looks at you while she swallows your middle finger and ring finger. You felt your two fingers get wet inside her mouth. She let off the fingers for her to gasp some air before sucking the two of them like it’s your cock. Wonyoung gives off a lewd facial expression as she’s clearly getting turned on by what she’s doing.
The woman continues on sucking off your fingers, she’s alternating on sucking down on them and swirling her tongue on the tips of them, she’s also sucking between your middle and ring finger to make sure your fingers are as wet as her slit. Wonyoung moves closer to you, now sitting in her long dress getting tangled up on her waist to reveal her white underwear that now looks transparent due to how wet she made herself.
Wonyoung felt the warmth of your cock closer to her clit. Knowing your girlfriend, she sits in front of your cock to tease you. “Mmmm,” the woman moans as she’s clearly enjoying sucking your fingers while she’s now grinding on top of your cock. Your thick cock cold as it feels the wetness of her undies.
You started to ram your two fingers to her mouth as you’re also getting aroused. You hold her head in your other hand as you put your fingers in and out of her tight mouth. The woman seems to enjoy her mouth getting finger fucked as her grinding on your cock gets aggressive as well. She now holds your hand firmly to purposefully put your fingers as deep in her throat.
Her two holes are getting too aroused. She removes your fingers in her mouth leaving it coated in her saliva. Wonyoung now focuses on the thick cock she’s riding. She moves aside her wet underwear to give way to the cock that she rides for a thousand times. You been together for years, living in your apartment, her hot and fragile body, this factors leads to her getting used like a fuck doll.
Your cock slides in inside her slit swiftly due to how wet Wonyoung is. She misses this sensation, your thick cock expanding her tight walls, she remembers all the curves and edges of your cock that makes her moan every time you pumped that cock inside. The woman holds on your shoulders to stabilize herself, taking your cock inside her.
“I miss you,” Wonyoung said sincerely, “I miss this cock of yours,” her lust also talked. As she continues to sway her lips, you remember how tight her slit is, no matter how deep you fuck her. Her slit keeps getting back her tightness. It feels like you're always taking her virginity.
The two of you exchanged moans as she kept her pace up. The woman rides your cock like she wants to milk the cum out of you. Her tightness is begging for you to fuck her in more ways, which you did. You hold her waist down while you forcefully move your hips up to fuck the tight body on top of you. This caught her by surprise and gave a loud moan.
Your two hands on the side of her waist can touch due to how skinny her waist is, her light body gets pushed up in the air as you keep pumping her upwards. The woman calls your name between her loud moans. Her hands are wandering around your torso trying to grab on to something to stabilize herself.
She managed to wrap her arms around your neck, her body now is laying on top of your chest, you come face to face with the woman that broke your heart. The woman who you fall in love with is laying on top of you like the old times. It became a habit for her to visit your apartment after class, doing nothing while in the arms of one another.
You wrap your arms unto her back to hold her in place. The only two things that you can hear right now is her slit getting fucked rapidly and her load cry of pleasure. Eyes closed as all she can do is to feel her slit getting drilled by your cock in an inhumane pace. The pain you felt in your break up turns into a wild assault into her slit.
Tears started to shed due to how stimulated her slit is, her body began to impulsive twitch, you know she’s near her second orgasm and you're more than glad to give it to her. Your two hands move to grab her tight buttocks to give her slit, fast and deep pounding, the sound of your flesh colliding is like music to your ears.
Wonyoung cries, her wrapped arms around your neck get tighter, her face sunk in your collarbone. You let her rest on top while she catches her breath, her orgasm pours down while your hard cock is still inside her. The woman mastering up some energy to form a sentence, “I know I love you.”
She kisses your lips, holding her lips on top of you for a while longer before the two of you start making out. You felt her hips moving up, making a loud pop as your cock got out of her wet tight slit. You finally see her giggle again, as she finds the sound her pussy made funny. You never thought that you would share a good laugh together.
Kisses and giggles, it seems like that are the only things the both of you can do for tonight. “I feel hungry,” she said in the middle of your conversation. You help each other get dressed while giving glances that you can’t believe they got back together.
“I want samyang”
“Me too, let’s get the spicy one”
“NOOOO”
Wonyoung is trying to use her cuteness to get a regular samyang.
“Look, let’s buy some snack to store our energy”
“Why do we need to store energy?” You asked in confusion.
Wonyoung gives you a naughty look while poking out her tongue.
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sturnioz · 1 day
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No cause I wanna know what you think Fratboy! Chris's reaction would be to shy! Reader getting her nails painted the same color as his tip (honestly I feel like she would be way to shy to even do that in the first place but I'm curious 😭)
she would absolutely be too shy to do this !! but the only way she would do it is if her friend coaxed her — as the friend is the more outgoing and daring one (and she is sleeping with nate so she was originally going to get it done for him).
but her trying to find out what tip colour chris has is killing me. like she’s just laying in between chris’ legs, preparing to blow him but she’s just. staring at it. analysing. trying to get a good look and chris is like ??? “the fuck you doin’? stop bein’ weird ‘n suck it.” and she’s all pouty so she tries to distract him by jerking him off first, just so she can stare longer before chris gets annoyed and shoves it into her mouth </3
when the nails are done … yeah, chris is not noticing. he’s a man. he doesn’t notice these types of things. so she’s trying her hardest to put her nails in his line of sight to get him to notice but its just not working — so she practically ends up shoving her fingers into his face and he recoils back like ?? what the fuck ?? and then when she shyly mumbles to him what she did … chris is just staring at her. straight up 🤨 for like two minutes before he nods slowly and calls her weird.
but eventually he will take his cock out to double check if thats the right colour of his tip cos curiosity got the better of him.
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bakugoushotwife · 3 days
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in my opinion, gojo’s storyline has been handled so so poorly i can’t help but think it’s intentional. it is not bad writing to kill a character—even a beloved character. i know most people will dismiss my criticisms because gojo is so beloved to me and so many others. i’ve said before that i don’t mind if he died. does it hurt? of course, and i would still cry and be sad about it. but there is a beautiful way to do it. with respect and honor for his legacy—for what he has done for your manga, the characters in it, and audiences worldwide. but no…gege chose the path of horror and disrespect. at certain points i’d say to myself, well. this is a dark manga. but essentially gojo is the only character that receives this treatment. since the beginning—since suguru left him, he’s been wondering if he mattered because he was a person, or if he only mattered because he was powerful and useable. we certainly fucking answered that question. he is a weapon and nobody ever cared about him at all!!!
and we knew he was being used—he knew he was being used, but he is selfless. so he did it for his kids. for megumi and yuuji and yuuta—he wanted them to be safe. in these flashbacks it’s exceedingly clear that he knew he would die. again—that’s not my issue. gojo dying to sukuna makes plenty of sense and it would hurt to leave it there. but to give us an afterlife scene where he’s presented a choice—north and south—that concept lead nowhere, that’s truly fucked up. to leave all the subtle clues and hints for no reason but to keep people reading and theorizing his return is fucked up. to continue to use his imagery to promote your manga when you know he’s not even honored in your manga is fucked up. we don’t get a funeral or a grave for him. no one’s spoken about him in chapters despite him fighting for hours against sukuna and damaging him so much that yuuji could win, nothing. yuuta wearing him like a costume and no one is horrified about it. i thought his students WERE different. they weren’t jujutsu society yet. that’s why gojo was their teacher—shaping them into better human beings. how am i supposed to trust in their future when it seems they’re just as cold and heartless as everyone before them? no one has honored gojo in any way since the moment he died. and they’ve forgotten about him. he spent his entire life fighting and no one can even say thank you. gege intentionally used gojo to promote the end of his manga because he knows that gojo fans make up at least half of his fanbase so had we stopped reading when he died, he would have lost a lot of traction. he baited us intentionally, cruelly, and something that transcends storytelling. i’ve truly never seen a mangaka have this sort of vitriol for one of their characters and the people that love him.
we spent the entire last chapter talking about some random fucking mission when we have several unanswered questions and concerns. i thought gege said he wanted this ending to be shocking and something you didn’t see in shonen? tying everything up neatly where no one has any trauma or grief for what they’ve experienced, everyone comes back to life except the one character you hate specifically and choso, defying your own power structures and having everyone laughing into the sunset is exactly how shonen ends so what in the fuck is he talking about??
let me disclaim, this is not megumi hate at all. i love him very much and i am so happy he’s back with the group but like. he shouldn’t be able to even walk. he tanked unlimited void for over 6 minutes whenever that length caused irreversible damage to sukuna himself. not to mention the countless black flashes. so what the fuck? he doesn’t mention gojo at all?? the first time he laughs in this manga is after he reads a note written by his dead fucking caretaker about his dead fucking father? like i don’t believe. random open ended kenjaku/suguru mention just to piss me off, an absolutely no mention of gojos sacrifice or how they’ll miss him. i’m sick to my stomach. gege defiled his memory both in the story and outside of it. wow.
P.S. SUKUNA CARED MORE ABOUT GOJO THAN ANYONE ELSE (SUGURU IS NOT INCLUDED IN THIS I MEAN HIS STUDENTS AND SOCIETY)
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absfawn · 3 days
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ㅤ ㅤㅤ❝ 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐢𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮? ❞  
abby remembers the second the light in your eyes left. it was like yesterday. she remembers the night you showed up at her house, completely drenched, from head to toe in the rain, looking at her with the tears streaming down your face. even covered in rain, she could tell just how much you had been crying. she remembers how your hands shook as she helped you undress for a warm shower, and how you could barely hold the washcloth because of how cold your body felt. at first, she wasn’t sure why. why you cried your heart out the second she let you inside, how you clung to her body like she would disappear if she didn’t hold you tight enough. every piece of her broke each time you would grip her shirt in your fist, knuckles turning white, whenever she tried to pull you away just to get you in the shower, to warm you up, but you never budged. you didn’t want to let her go. ever. 
she was quick, like she always is when it came to you, when you slumped onto the shower floor and held your knees against your chest, sniffling and whimpering into your arms. she didn’t care about her dry clothes getting wet, all she cared about was you and making sure you were okay. the stream of water covers her as she wraps her arms around your body and pulls you into her chest, whispering and reassuring you that you were okay. it wasn’t until you opened your mouth and uttered a soft, “we argued about you” that her body tensed, and her eyebrows furrowed at your words. 
“me? why me?”
“why not? you’re perfect” you laughed, but it wasn’t your usual laugh she adored hearing, was used to hearing. it sounded so broken that all she could do was hold you tighter. “m’not sure, i think it makes her angry that i always come to you when m’sad, or when something is getting too much for me to handle and i never go to her. m’scared that i only trust you, and i can’t trust anyone else with my emotions,” you sucked in a deep breath and sniffled. “m’scared of my feelings, the ones i thought i had for her, the ones i have had for you for years and i hate that i keep putting all of this on you” you rambled, not fully understanding you had just admitted one of your confessions to your best friend.
abby was momentarily happy for this moment of confession because she’s been in love with you from the start, but she was also terrified. scared because right now you were too heartbroken and too hurt for her to drop the i love you bomb right onto you. “m’here for you, no matter what the problem is, you know that” she mumbled against your head. “you can bring your things to me, and i will try my best to help you through them, like i’ve always promised you.” even if it killed her to hold back her own feelings towards you.
“s’not fair on you” you couldn’t help but huff and roll your eyes at her. “m’always doing it. it just ruins everything”
“you need to stop thinking you know what’s not fair on me, and what is. that’s my decision, i won’t let you make that for me. m’here for you, no matter what is going on in your life, and in your pretty head, okay?” abby rubbed your back and placed a tender kiss on your temple when you nodded wordlessly. “now, how about we get out of the shower, i’ll find you something to wear, watch one of those shitty movies you love so much and eat ice cream?”
“i’d like that.” 
abby was gentle and patient, like she always is, when she helped you dry off after she managed to get you from the bathroom to her bedroom, clothes already on the bed waiting as you fumbled with your fingers nervously. none of you had to say anything, her actions of getting you comfortable and warm were enough to express how much she cares about you.
she doesn’t rush you to get changed into something warmer, drier even, nor does she rush you to get comfortable in her bed as she makes her way into the kitchen just to find the ice cream you both always used to eat if you had a shitty day. thankfully though, by the time she makes it back to her bedroom, her pride and joy, her safe place, she finds you snuggled up under the blankets and already scrolling through endless movies that you aren’t sure if you really want to watch. 
“did you pick one?” abby mumbled, placing her bowl of ice cream on her nightstand while passing you the other and chuckling under her breath at your soft gasp from the coldness of the fine china. “careful, it’s cold”
“funny,” you grumbled playfully and snuggled more into her bed. oblivious to her soft eyes watching you. “but thank you, and no, i haven’t picked one. they all look boring.”
abby doesn’t reply, just makes herself comfortable on the other side of you on her bed, your body on instinct snuggled more up to her side and slumped your head on her shoulder as you scooped up ice cream and shoved it in your mouth with subtle sniffles. “you feel better?” she couldn’t help but ask into your hair. 
“a little, thank you for being here” you sighed and rubbed your eyes with your free hand. “s’not what someone’s night should be like, always having to fix me and put me back together again, but thank you.”
pressing her lips to your temple, abby doesn’t feel the way you sag more into her body, nor does she feel the heat rising in your cheeks at such a simple action. she’s forgotten all about her ice cream, as you eat yours and keep your eyes locked on the tv, still undecided on which move you’re going to watch. “hey,” abby whispered. 
“hm?”
“i love you,” the meaning to abby was deeper than you’d ever know, but she wasn’t going to place something else on you while you were already dealing with a broken heart. so instead, she wraps her arm around your waist and kisses your head again. her thumb brushing against the skin on your hip that had you sinking more and more into her with each touch. “which means m’always going to be here for you. during the good and bad. i will do my best to help and guide you through the bad days, but there for you, supporting you through the good ones too. i just want you to be happy, and i will make sure i can help you get there. always. i love you.”
because loving you is the easiest thing she’ll ever have to do.
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kyri45 · 3 days
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✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 28/09✨
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Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~
Anonimo ha chiesto: I am going to ask you to make a difficult decision… freenoodles or Shadowpeach
(Freenoodles, in my opinion, is just barely better than shadowpeach. Just because of how gay they are in season five. I mean, look at them and tell me they aren’t married.)
Sooo I go with shadowpeach. Freenoodle is like my comfort shit. so many cute and funny shenanigans, for me they are just the married couple who would probably have the healtiest of the relationship. They have teh experience, they went already throught all the "obliviouss-ness" and the "what if they don't love me" yadda yadda.
But Shadowpeach. Ow man. I thought the ineffable housband ship was complex. but god. oh god. how wrong I was. like- these two went from friends, to brothers, to lovers, to enemies, to friends again and to be lover again. They fucked up so much nothing will ever be the same. But they still weak for each other. They are at each other throat and also they know the other in the most intimate way. they are immortal. One of them fucking killed the other. They thought the other left them and betrayed and went both drama to forget (one choose found family, the other murder but anyway-)
Like- WHAT SHIP CAN BE MORE COMPLEX THAN THIS?????
Anonimo ha chiesto: Does MK have a favorite between his bio parents
oUH NO POOR MONKEYS. He doesn't, but he has a favourite depending on the context. Like, for training he prefers Macaque because he explains a lot better than Wukong, but sparring with Wukong is much funnier, but he prefers Macaque scratches and grooming, but he loves Wukong squeezing hugs, etc...
Anonimo ha chiesto: You know, I just realized something. So you know how people in the fandom give Macaque lotus nicknames since his ears kind of resemble lotus flowers. Well since MK has both Wukong and Macaque's ears that kind of makes MK's ears resemble Peace Lilies (which is kind of ironic since MK is the Harbinger of Chaos)
Aww I guess they do look like them!
Anonimo ha chiesto: I may sound a little to mean but Mk din't suspect a thing aout macaques eye? he has multiple forms were his eye is a cross i mean, i would think smt happend to that eye but that just me uu I LOVE UR ART IT MAKES ME WANT TO KMS /POS
He surely suspected something happened to Mac eye but he didn't know how that happened.
@queen-of-purple-roses ha chiesto: I have a question and you don’t have to answer it if you don’t have too; since we’ve seen Macaque feel guilty with how he treated MK in the past, does Monkey King feel guilty about all the dangerous moments that MK was put in, since most if not all of the fighting ends up on MK’s plate and not Wukong’s.
Oh absolutely, the more time passes he feels more and more guilty.
@catbox730 ha chiesto: Can we get more MK and Red Son please
mayyyyyybe. If you guys behave
Anonimo ha chiesto: It would be funny seeing MK‘s dads going to a doctor with him for like getting his wisdom teeth removed or something xD
The parents being extremely worried that something will go wrong while MK is super chill. When the dentist comes out of the operating room they grab him and ask him if he survived while MK is just eating ice cream post-surgery.
Anonimo ha chiesto: Will MK ever fight against one of his parents in a serious battle ? Or be forced to fight one of them ?
mmm. Probably. Maybe in the future they have a discussion. Nothing maybe too serious. But not in the AU plans.
What is Wukongs and/or Macaques biggest nightmare(s) I imagine it would be something like seeing MK die or sacrificing himself again or something like that
I think Wukong is more terrified of being alone. So actually I think it would be worse for him that MK doesn't want to see him anymore.
Anonimo ha chiesto: so who is going to be MK‘s hero that he worships ? I don’t know if he still sees Monkey king in that way after finding out that he is basically his dad and hearing the past the fight with Macaque….
Maybe he wont have any hero. Maybe worshipping someone is not such a healthy thing to do. ( I'm not talking in a religious way of course, I meant worshipping a living normal person)
@emmais333 ha chiesto: Love your MK art. One question how many fights from Wukong and Mac does MK overhear on accident
He heard the first one (and the past one through the vision) then Wkong and Mac started to teleport far away enough so he wont be able to hear them discuss.
Anonimo ha chiesto: What if MK catches Mac and Wukong in the act, not visually, but audibly, like hearing it when going to flower feuit mountain, finding the monkeys in a pile, all traumatized. Or is it too soon? Do they get drunk enough to not care? Do they even drink?
in the....act? (sorry I don't understand stuff if it's not explicited said, like I can't understand double meanings if that was what you meant)
Anonimo ha chiesto: I LOVE YOUR STORY, REALLY!!!! I reread a lot. So lovely. And the Baby MK, I just want to hug so badly 🥺 ( I think Macaque become Protecting mode and he won't let me do it. ) You draw Baby MK so so so cute. My heart can't handle it.❤️ Maybe it's a terrifying idea but I would like know your thoughts. I think that Macaque sleeps very quietly, like a man in a coffin.  + Macaque fell into a very deep DEEP sleep. (maybe because he was tired from fighting demons to protect Baby MK or get injured or something?) = How do you think Sun Wokung will react?
o my god NO DON'T GIVE HIM AN HEARTH ATTACK (heloses one of their immortalities for having the most horrrendous of jumpscares)
@raspberrymixin ha chiesto: AHHH I LOVE YOU SHADOW PEACH BIO AU OMG ITS TO FREAKEN CUTEEEE AAHH I just melt into a puddle! Love you art and make sure to take breaks- anyway- I find it cute how redson interacts with MK I can just imagine him giving him stuff and little gifts and Mk just confused on why but takes it anyway because of friendship and maybe a sign he's trusting more- but MK is just oblivious to the courting- And maybe redson would ask Wukong, Macaque, Tang or pigsy to allow it maybe? And I also love the slow burn! It's just cute on how Macaque and Wukong make each other blush! Awww it's just to cute! I hope you're doing amazing and have a good night/day
Oh man MK would not be able to read a single clue and just think it's a symbol of friendship or wathever. O my god he really did take from his parents (all of them)
fayeangel25 ha chiesto: YOUUU UFUFFHH WHEN I GET YOUUUUU anyways, I wanna see wukong asking macaque about the story of him and mac ( after mamacaque storytelled his lil baby mk ) , cuz i wanna see more flustered macaque!!! Also, 👏 EATING 👏 THIS 👏 AU 👏 UP!!
Hehe he would be a little shy about it. But Macaque is a theater kid so for a bigger audience I guess he would do it.
Anonimo ha chiesto: I feel like I’m new here. What is Court napping?
Consensual Kidnapping with the intend of flirting with another demon.
Anonimo ha chiesto: How many people want to court MK now that he is a real stone monkey AND the son of Wukong and Macaque ?
mmm. Only people close to MK knows that he's the bio kid of shadowpeach. So for now only Red Son
Anonimo ha chiesto: I bet PIF would try to wait for MK to lose the good guy ‘phase’ since she went through that before lmao (forget being good, convert to villainy in the name of love)
Awwww she would!!! But MK is just too good hearted to hurt a fly. (yeah I know he technically has a kill count still-)
Anonimo ha chiesto: MK would obviously call Pigsy "Papa" so what would MK call Tang and Sandy?
I think he would actually call Pigsy "dad" since it's what he calls him that in the show. Maybe it's Tang that gets to be called Papa. I think Sandy is more like an uncle.
@mage-of-words ha chiesto: When will Wukong purpose to Macaque?
WOW- HOLD ON THERE. LET HIM TAKE HIM TO DINNER FIRST.
Anonimo ha chiesto: Omg I wonder if Macaque and Monkey King ever saw MK get really hurt during a battle with a new demon. RIP the Demon bc two feral Monkeys are after them now bc they hurt their kid.
Them to said demon: So you have choosen.... death.
Anonimo ha chiesto: Hear me out, Mac and Wukong in a get along shirt for a day (lost a bet to MK and he planned this too) LOVE YOUR ART TOO ITS SO SCRUMDIDDLYUMPTIOUCIOUS
this is an old ask, sorry for taking so long to answer. But I would say that at this point of the story Wukong would probably be at cloud 9 being squished to super soft macaque all day. Macaque would be like a kitten undecided on wheter he loves or hate the situation (doesn't really likes un-warned physical touch.
Anonimo ha chiesto: Hoi there, I found you again! (Following you on Insta as well because your art is awesome ^^)
Reading your LMK ShadowPeaches comics and they are fun. And now my brain can't help but make up scenarios, one like this one. Oh my, MK is a cute little baby! (^///^) Oh my, MK is a little baby!! ('O_O) Welp, Pigsy is going to kill someone unless Wukong gives baby MK into his arms to calm down and be busy being a dad than a raging Hulk. (:P) Also, I imagine MK accidentally shrinking himself, (Wukong decided to play hide and seek with it only to later on regret it). Wukong would freaking out about it, and Macaque then shook him violently while yelling into his face for losing MK. Then out of Nowhere, Nezha shows up at the door frame and be like 'Um, hey guys. Is this yours?' Points at his nose where tiny baby bean MK was, clinging onto Nezha's nose while giggling.
askjajvbks that's a lovely scene! Unfortunately Nehza can't know yet about MK, but maybe he will...
@lara-legomonkiekid 💜:Hey! I'm here to ask permission!Can I make an art Drawing of your Bio parents AU Meeting One of my AU's?Please?(Mostly Suposed to be Meeting One of my OC's!) (Love Your Art and Comics!!!!)(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)
Yeah sure! just be sure to tag me and link the masterpost of the AU
Anonimo ha chiesto: I find it funny how your shadowpeach bio au came from a joke and now.....wow Your art is amazing
My friend even tried to warn me. BUT I DIDN'T LISTEN
Anonimo ha chiesto: I need Freenoodles talking late at night about MK's new situation Will they be worried? Happy? I don't think Pigsy will take it very well that just when he and MK accepted each other as Father and Son, he is (partly) taken away by his biological dads.
Pigsy was mostly worried that Wukong or Macaque would hurt in any way MK. Both ahim and Tang after they saw how much the 2 care about MK calmed down, still they just hope they don't mess up things.
Anonimo ha chiesto: parenting it not just about having fun with your children, but also making sure there are boundaries even if the child isn’t happy about it. So, how would it go if Macaque and Wukong would try to ground MK 😂
MK is a little old for being grounded I think but if they were to do it maybe with something like no training for a week or smt. He's still an adult (i know we sometimes forget)
Anonimo ha chiesto: MK trying to prank his parents and wake them up with a loud instrument or sound. MK forgetting he has sensitive hearing 💀
reverso uno card
Anonimo ha chiesto: Would wukong or MK help macaque in his drawings if he asked 🙃 or if they tried to help him improve
Awww they would!!! Actually what if this creative side of him was something he kind of inherted from Wukong?
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lodgersims · 2 days
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As a Sims 2 player one of the most eerie things about playing the original game isn't necessarily the creepy/more liminal aesthetic or the repetitively endless gameplay, but the fact that almost all the pre-made Sims from the original game are inexorably doomed by the narrative.
There's something odd about Pleasantview specifically, where the majority of the returning Sim families live (save for Tara Kat, who seems... relatively fine). Like, the concept of the game is that twenty-five years have passed, and all of the returning characters are pre-baked into character arcs that communicate an unavoidable truth: You, the player, failed.
Bella Goth will disappear. Her brother (though in the original Sims we aren't aware that Michael Bachelor is her brother) will die, possibly murdered. Mortimer will be lost and alone. Cassandra will be stuck in an unloving engagement. The Newbie's daughter will be impoverished, a single mother whose husband died young, with two boys and another on the way. Daniel Pleasant will grow up to be a cheater. Jennifer Pleasant will never be an athlete like she wanted (her brother will). And though poor Johnny Burb never mentions Tucker anymore, you know that old dog died years ago. The Roomies, the Mashugas, the Hicks, the Charmings - all leave town... or worse, die out.
I think about Jeff Pleasant's bio in the first game: "Jeff and his family are new to the neighborhood. Can you help Jeff provide for his family and fulfill his lifelong goal of being the first man to walk on Mars?" And how it contrasts to Daniel's in the second: "Since his father Jeff died without achieving his dream of going to Mars, Daniel has felt an overwhelming guilt."
And sure, you can save the families of Pleasantview. You can choose for Mary-Sue to not go to work that day, or maybe Daniel never pursues Kaylynn Langerak again. You can give Cassandra a happy marriage, tame Don Lothario's womanizer ways. You can financially save Brandi Broke. You can get John Burb another dog. You can get Jennifer the career she always wanted. You can defy the scripted in-game prompts and say "No. I don't want to play like this." You can break the cycle, every time you play.
And yet, at the end of the day, no matter what you do... uninstalling the game and reinstalling it, maybe just deleting that Neighborhood folder, they are reset back to exactly where they were again. They're doomed to repeat it forever.
The game makes it clear that there are some things you aren't meant to change. A genie lamp or a Resurrect-O-Nomitron can bring back sims like Michael Bachelor, but you will pay for it in your neighborhood deteriorating to corruption. And no matter what you do, no force in the universe can bring Bella Goth back. The one in Strangetown isn't even really her, after all. And maybe she isn't. They say they deleted her in development, replaced her with a clone. Maybe that's what Bella Goth in Strangetown is. A clone. Maybe we were wrong, after all. Maybe she was never abducted by aliens. Maybe Don Lothario killed her. Maybe Dina Caliente killed her. Maybe Mortimer did. But you can't bring her back, no matter what you do. Recreate the original Bella, pixel by pixel, extract her data, make your zombie Bella. Build your own monster. Create a sim. But she will never recognize her family. Never see them as her own.
And she was never meant to.
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hotshotsxyz · 2 days
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8x01 coda
(buddie adjacent) (784 words) spoilers ahead, read at your own risk!
A little peroxide, a little elbow grease, and the engine bay should be good as new. Five minutes, ten max, except Buck’s been scrubbing for twenty and the fucking stain won’t come up. He kind of wants to scream.
There’s blood soaked into the concrete and blood on his hands and it’s ugly and red and Buck needs it to be gone. He pours more peroxide and watches it foam.
It’s too goddamn quiet in here. The construction’s stopped, obviously, and Hen took the station out of service so no alarm will take its place. No one’s yelling, no one’s commiserating, no one’s vacuuming the fucking upholstery.
Nausea wraps itself around Buck’s organs. A hand lands on his shoulder and he jumps.
“Buck,” Eddie says, quiet, too fucking quiet.
Buck scrubs at the stain.
“Look at me,” Eddie says, kneeling beside him.
He can’t. He fucking can’t because the stain is still there.
Eddie grabs his wrist. “Buck,” he says again, forceful and a little loud.
Buck drops the sponge and whips around. “What?” he asks. It comes out flatter than he thought it would, drenched in something like apathy.
“You can stop,” Eddie says.
“No,” Buck says, shaking his head. “You know what he’ll do if this is here when he gets back?” He gestures at the stain. He can’t even say his name.
Eddie’s hand tightens around his wrist. “Let someone else give it a try,” he says gently.
Buck knows when he’s being fucking handled. He wrenches his wrist from Eddie’s grasp. Eddie grabs his shoulder instead.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he says quietly.
A humorless bark of laughter escapes Buck’s throat. “Yeah, no, I just killed a guy. Totally fine.”
“He’s not dead,” Eddie argues.
“Yet.”
Eddie takes a long breath. “He’s not dead,” he repeats. “And even if that changes—”
“What,” Buck interrupts. “It won’t be my fault? It kind of fucking is.”
Eddie shakes his head minutely. “If that changes it’ll be the universe or whatever.”
Buck rolls his eyes. “You don’t believe in the universe,” he says.
“No,” Eddie acknowledges. “But I believe in what I can see. And what I saw was you risking your life to save his. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Buck swallows harshly and rocks back on his heels. “For—for a second I—”
“What?” Eddie prompts.
“I was—I wasn’t happy, but I—Eddie, I didn’t care,” Buck says finally. He drops the rest of the way to the floor and pulls his knees to his chest.
Eddie blows out a short puff of air and settles next to Buck. “I’m still not sure I do,” he says, tilting his head to catch Buck’s eyes.
“You don’t have to care,” Buck says. “He’s awful to you, and you’re not the one who killed him.”
“Still not dead,” Eddie reminds him. “And he’s awful to you too. He was in the middle of yelling at you when you saved his life.”
“It’s not the same.”
“It’s not,” Eddie agrees.
Buck bites his lip. “Have you…” he trails off.
“Ever killed someone?” Eddie guesses.
“You don’t—I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—” Buck stammers.
Eddie presses his knee against Buck’s. “I don’t know,” he says, “not for sure.”
Buck frowns.
“I’ve shot at people,” Eddie continues. “Hit a few. I don’t know if any of them died. I’ll never know.”
“How do you deal with that?”
Eddie levels him with a flat gaze. “Buck. I’m in so much therapy.”
It startles a laugh out of him. “Eds I’m serious,” Buck says.
“I am too,” Eddie replies. “And either way, it’s different. You didn’t kill him.”
“He still might—”
“Buck.” Eddie looks away slightly and shakes his head. “Even if he dies, all you did was change what killed him. You gave him a fighting chance, it’s more than he would’ve given you.”
Buck scrubs at his eyes as they begin to sting. “I don’t know what to do with that.”
“You talk to me,” Eddie says, nudging his shoulder. “You’re a good person, I’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it.”
A single tear escapes Buck’s lash line. “Yeah?” he asks, watery and rough.
“Yeah.” After a moment, he stands and holds a hand out to Buck. “Come on,” he says. “Brass says we can go home. You’re coming with me.”
Buck takes Eddie’s hand and allows him to pull him to his feet, leaving the sponge and the stain exactly where they are. “Okay,” he says quietly.
“Okay,” Eddie repeats.
There’s blood on Buck’s hands. Eddie takes him to the shower room to wash it off.
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sanguineterrain · 1 day
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a bloody vow | jason todd
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Summary: After the racy encounter with your knight, you seem to lose all progress made in your relationship. You hardly talk, and you're lonelier than ever. But after a house break-in has you running to Jason for help, you're forced to face each other, blood and all.
Pairing: knight!Jason Todd x gn!reader 
Word count: 2.3k
Warnings/tags: violence! Jason kills a man. reader and jason's house is broken into and the thief attacks the reader (but they're okay.) mentions of self-flagellation, religious guilt. reader feels very lonely without their big strong knight :( the eroticism of killing for another person. codependence. partial nudity. probably not the healthiest relationship but whatevs. Jason would do anything for them what more could you want?
the divider
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Everything's changed since the morning that you found Jason with the whip.
He won't even eat with you anymore.
He accepts whatever you make and thanks you quietly, then eats his supper in the shed. He didn’t say much before—now you're lucky if you get more than a word from him.
He's also taken to punishing himself regularly. Jason does it far away, so he won't wake you. But you've seen his back and the welts peeking beneath his tunic and the spots of blood. You also see fresh injuries from his training, injuries that could be avoided if he was more careful. You've tried to offer him a salve to heal his back. He always refuses, flinching like a kicked dog if you get too close.
You fear that you'd pushed Jason too far that morning. You replay it in your mind, wondering what exactly had possessed you to act in such a vulgar manner. Exposing yourself to him like that after spying on him earlier—what were you thinking?
You weren't, is the truth. It seems all rational thought leaves your brain when you're around him.
It's truly like living with a ghost. Your feelings are jumbled, caught in a maelstrom of guilt and fear and desire. More than anything, you're unbearably lonely. You'd feared a harsh hand when you first were deposited into Jason's bed. You never imagined that there could be a worse fate than being wanted: being ignored.
So, it's been three weeks of this new routine. Jason has been disappearing at night to the pub. Not that he told you that—you know this because of the incessant gossip that flies around the market. It's not hard to decipher who the 'hulking knight' is when people stare at you.
You try not to think about what Jason gets up to. You really have no right to be angry if he finds someone to warm his bed. You're lucky he hasn't thrown you into the sea after your insolence.
Routine is all that keeps you sane. You do the washing and cooking without complaint. Jason still leaves you money to go to the market, and sometimes you save a couple of coins to buy books. You keep the books under a floorboard in your room. He never asks you for change.
You don't know if this routine will be enough, though. You wish Jason would just throw you out and be done with it. You're certainly not performing the duties that the king expected of you when he brought you here. Jason can hardly look at you, much less touch you.
You eat alone tonight. By the time you wash up and are ready for bed, it's late. Jason still isn't home.
Not unusual these days. You get into bed and blow out the candle. Maybe you won't wake in the morning. Then you'll both be free.
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A crash jerks you out of slumber.
You're awake immediately, fumbling under your bed for the small dagger you'd secretly purchased when you first came.
Your first thought is that Jason came home drunk. But if he’s come home drunk in the past, you've never heard him, and it's always as quiet in the morning as it was the night before.
A chilling second thought hits you as the floor creaks outside your door.
Someone's broken in.
You quietly get to your feet, dagger in hand. If Jason were home, he would be here already, dealing with the problem. As it is, you're alone and completely vulnerable without your knight.
Your door splinters open. You stumble backwards.
"Wha' have we here?" A lantern shines in your face. "Look a' this. Pretty thing like you shouldn't be left alone."
You bolt for the front door.
“Oh, no no, you don’t.”
The intruder darts after you and stops you before you can open the door. He hauls you backwards and throws you against the dying fireplace. You land on your ribs and the wind is knocked out of you.
"Too big of a house for a little mouse like you,” the man says with a greasy sneer. 
You turn and lunge at him. You catch him off guard enough to stab his shoulder with the dagger. He howls in pain and shoves you off. Your head hits the wall, and for a moment, you fear you’ll vomit. But you don’t, so you stand.
"You bitch!" he shouts. "I'll fuckin' kill ya for that!"
That's all the motivation you need to run.
You’re aching all over, head pounding. Your legs are cold, being that you're only in a nightgown. You might be bleeding. But you keep running.
You run all the way into town, which feels like miles at this time of night, bruised as you are. It’s easy to find the pub, and it doesn’t even occur to you that you’re not allowed inside. All that’s on your mind is Jason. Find Jason.
You pound your fists on the door of the pub, crying.
"Jason, Jason!" you shout. “Help me, please! Please!”
The door opens. You stumble in, almost tripping on the uneven wood. Men stare at you as you enter.
"Jason!" you yell.
A knight you don't recognize stares down at you, blocking your path. You stumble back, grabbing the wall for support.
"Out," he snarls. 
"Please," you beg. "Please, I need my husb—"
He's shoved aside suddenly, ale sloshing over his mug. He growls in protest, but someone drags him away by the back of his tunic. 
Relief floods you at the familiar face who takes his place. Jason.
He's obviously shocked to see you here, eyes roving over you. His shirt is unbuttoned, a thin fresh cut on his cheek. He says your name. Every inhibition you’ve felt over the last month disappears.
"What—"
You throw yourself into his arms, weeping. Jason catches you, cradling the back of your head. You're surrounded by him, the rest of the world blocked out. He smells like the strong yellow soap you make in large chunks because it’s cheaper than purchasing it at the market. He smells like the home you share.
"What is it? Where do you hurt?" he asks quietly, shielding you from all the pairs of eyes. He rubs your back, bent over you. You cling to his neck, shaking with the memory of tonight.
"A man b-broke in," you say, and Jason's grip tightens. "He said–he said he w-would...k-kill…"
You trail off. Jason pets you, breathing even on your neck.
You know that you hardly have any rights, that the men here would sooner see you die than step into danger for you. Perhaps that includes Jason too. Perhaps it's too late. 
"I understand," Jason says into your ear. He doesn’t waver despite how you tremble. "It's alright. I won't let him hurt you again. I'm... I'm so sorry for leaving you alone."
He exhales, long and slow. You feel him begin to pull away. You panic, digging your nails into his arms. Jason quickly soothes you. He doesn’t chastise you for clawing him. 
"It’s alright. I'm going to handle this, and then we'll go home," he says. "Roy."
A redheaded knight approaches. You slowly turn your head. He smiles gently at you.
"Your Highness," he says, bowing deeply, and you feel a little lighter.
"Roy's going to take you home while I handle the thief," Jason says. "I promise that I'll be fast, alright?"
"You promise you won't leave?" you ask. “You’ll come home right away?”
Jason takes your hand, stroking your knuckles. "I swear. May God strike me down if I don't return."
“Oi, man, get your little harlot out of—”
Jason stands, rising and towering over the angry drunk. He’s immediately cowed under Jason’s gaze.
“Watch your mouth,” Jason says, even and deadly. The man leaves in a huff.
"I'm sorry for causing trouble," you whisper, cheeks still wet.
"You haven't," is all he says, before leading you outside.
You have an audience, which is absolutely humiliating, but neither Jason nor Roy pays them any mind, so you don’t either. 
Roy helps you onto his horse, and in the time that that takes, Jason is already headed back to the house by the time you and Roy start off. You realize then that you trust Jason. You've never met this Sir Roy in your life—Jason's never even mentioned having friends. But you trust that you will get home safely. 
“Jason won’t let him get away,” Roy says. You believe him.
The ride is short. You don’t know if you’ll manage to go back to sleep without Jason there, but the least you can do is host Roy, perhaps. You’re bone-tired, but you ought to be hospitable, shouldn’t you?
But as you get closer to the cottage, you hear voices in the woods. Jason’s horse is out front. You dismount without Roy's help and take off running. He calls after you. You ignore him.
You don't go through the house, not ready to face the destruction your intruder left in his wake. Instead, you go around and follow the stream into the woods. The voices get louder. When you get to the clearing by the shed, you stop.
The lantern has been knocked onto its side, flames flickering. But you can very clearly make out Jason in the dark. His shadow cuts a frightening figure that dances across the trees. Moonlight flickers through the canopy, illuminating him and the other figure. Your attacker.
Your attacker, who’s discovering that he picked the wrong house to rob.
Jason's got him pressed against a tree. Blood drips from the man's head and face. You stay a few yards away, behind a tree. The bark dully bites into your hand. You’re torn on whether you should make yourself known or not. Stop this or not.
"You touched them," Jason says, and does something with his sword that draws out a strangled groan from the attacker. The metal shines with fresh blood.
"I am worse than you," he continues. "I lost sight of my duty. My reason for living. Everything I do is for the star-crossed beauty my king captured for me. It's all I can do to pay penance for my sins. And you come into my house and dare to lay a hand on what is mine?"
The breath leaves you in a punch. You're cold with sweat, but something tugs at your gut. Something frightening. Something that tells you to stay hidden.
"I am worse," Jason says. "Because a good man would show you mercy and let you be hanged for your crimes."
"That fuckin' bitch deserved it," the intruder spits.
Here, Jason loses his composure. Here, he twists his sword.
"I will tear you apart," he says, voice a snarl.
And Jason does exactly that. It's bloody and gory. You feel sick a few times. You can't see everything in the fractured light, but you can hear it all. Bones crack, the man screams, but Jason doesn't relent. He drives his sword deeper and deeper. Blood gurgles from the attacker's mouth.
You watch on, feeling quite like you had the day you saw Jason fucking his fist.
The body drops with a thud as Jason lets him go. You imagine a sword slick with blood. You imagine Jason covered in it.
The realization is dizzying. You are an executioner, and Jason is your axe.
You don't know what you're more horrified by: the fact that it took you this long to look away or that you don't mind the stench of fresh blood.
Jason takes two steps and picks up the lantern. He sees you. He stops.
"He's dead," you say dumbly.
Jason swallows, face otherwise blank. "You... you were not meant to see that."
"I didn't." But you did.
He knows you did.
"Roy should've taken you inside," Jason says.
You can't understand why shame draws the lines of his shoulders. 
"I didn't want to go inside," you say. "Not without you."
Jason inhales sharply. Then he looks away. "I shouldn't have... I pray that you'll forgive me, but I understand if you don't."
Jason is covered in more than a little blood. Red spatters his cheek, though it looks black in the shadows.
He's slick with blood. You wonder if he'll bathe in the river. If you might help him.
You step forward. Jason is still. He watches you steadily as you approach.
You pull down the sleeve of your nightgown and reach for Jason's face. He flinches. You hush him.
"It's alright," you whisper.
He lets you touch his cheek. His eyelids flutter as you wipe the blood from his face. Then you hold his cheeks with both hands. Jason shudders.
"You can touch me," you say.
Immediately, Jason shakes his head, hands curling into fists at his side.
"No. I'm unclean. You shouldn’t touch me either, you’ll—you’re—”
"I don't mind." Your thumbs trace the contours of his face for a moment, feeling the hard line of his nose, the curve of his jaw, his full bottom lip. He lets you, eyes locked on yours.
Then, you pull up your nightgown, revealing your bare thighs, your underwear, your belly. Jason’s chest heaves. He immediately looks away. But you’re quick. You guide Jason's hand with your other hand. He stains your flesh with blood. You picture the sticky, bloody handprint he'll leave on your waist. That frightening feeling returns. 
Jason's hand is hot on your skin. He exhales shakily. 
"I'm sorry," he says again, cupping your waist. His fingers gently knead your skin as if he's testing if you're real. It tickles, but you don't move, fearing Jason will pull away at the slightest jerk.
"Don't sleep in the shed anymore," you say.
"Alright."
"Eat supper with me."
"Okay."
You draw Jason closer. Blood smears your clothed chest. His thighs warm your exposed legs. You will not let him punish himself in the morning. You will sleep on his chest if that’s what it takes. Only you are allowed to draw blood from him. 
"Are you mine?" you ask.
Jason's answer is instant.
"Yes."
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solbaby7 · 1 day
Note
Hii could I please get a neat Moscow mule with a salt rim ❤️
🧉here you go 💗💗
[ “i don’t like the way he / she looks at you” + smut + az ]
-> BLURB BAR <-
There had always been whispers about Illyrian males and the possessive streak that scorches its way through their veins. How it awakened with their first cry at birth and remains until their last breath.
You’d never thought you’d witness it firsthand.
Seeing that shift in Azriel’s features is unmistakable. The comfortable lines of his stoicism usually rests heavy along his brow bone, casting shadows along his eyes until the rich amber of his iris is stark in contrast. Even then, you’re used to seeing some semblance of warmth residing in there but the danger lingering within them now is staggering—forces the object of his surveillance to raise a hand to the back of their neck, eyes scanning the crowd for the culprit.
Az is too good to be caught though. Too skilled to be seen. A wolf that blends in seamlessly in a crowd full of sheep and he detects it immediately when another predator is present. “Who is that?”
You follow his line of sight, grumbling in distaste almost instantly when you notice that familiar tuft of curly blonde hair. “Tyson,” His brow raises at your tone, stance sturdy and arms crossed over his chest. You can feel the heat radiating off of him; briefly acknowledging the sentient shadows that nudge you in closer, partially hiding you behind his bulk. Protecting what they deemed as theirs. “—but all the Valkyrie’s call him tick.”
“Tick.”
“Yeah,” Your head nods along in confirmation, fingers hooking in the loops of your leathers to shimmy them up higher on your hips. “‘Cause he latches on like one—damn near impossible to shake.”
There’s a brief pause, a rumble of a noise vibrating through his chest like a lion in wait that rests on its haunches. Azriel’s prey drive is triggered, specially attuned to the way Tyson leans casually against a post, blue eyes trained on you while you warm up, taking time admiring the way your leathers fit like second skin. “I don’t like the way he looks at you.”
He’s skilled with a sword, Az notes, but that wandering eye is sure to get him killed. The shadowsinger can feel the way his fingers form into fists when Tyson’s gaze meanders down the slope of your back and settles around the generous curve of your ass. It wobbles temptingly as you practice, core tight and form stunning as all sorts of daggers are shot through the air at warp speed.
Every blade hits its respective bullseye.
You're one hell of a prize. One that Tyson so foolishly thinks he’s good enough to win.
Shoulders square, feet apart, knees ever so slightly bent. Even breaths as you line up the next blade, eying where you wish for it to land. "How does he look at me?"
"Like he wants to fuck you."
You pray he doesn't notice the way your body freezes in place, grip faltering on the hilt of your dagger. A thick swallow, throat clumsily clearing and lashes fluttering with nerves as you make a point to keep your face forward. "How would you know what that looks like?"
"Because, I want to fuck you." Thighs clench at the flippant way he says it—so casually. Like it's common knowledge. As if he hasn't just rendered you speechless and filled you full of want off one sentence alone. The smell of him engulfs you when he closes the distance, his chest to your back. Shadows teasing at the sides of your thighs like phantom palms that waste no time memorizing the new terrain. "You're holding that wrong."
"Am I?" More intelligent words are robbed right off of your tongue when he presses against you, the weight of his growing erection digging into your spine, teasing around the dimples that rest right above your ass. You can't help but lean into him, allowing him to adjust your fingers around the daggers hilt.
Never once had you thought such a simple touch could ignite this kind of spark within you. A fire that damn near burns you alive; it begins in the pit of your stomach, gnawing at organs and muscle, tearing through soft tendons and sinew in its desperation for release. "Like this, baby." His lips graze the curve of your ear, forcing goosebumps to assault your skin.
Azriel doesn't adjust a thing about your form. Instead, he openly gropes at the fat of your hips. Slides his palm possessively over the soft swell of your abdomen. Trails a hand up the crease of your breasts until a five finger grip is curling its way around your throat. "What are you doing?" You whisper, craning your neck to provide more access. Allowing the steady pressure squeezing at your jugular.
He's putting on one hell of a show.
Staring that blonde bastard right in the eye as he drags his nose along your temple, pressing his lips against your skin just because he can. "Pest control." A thick thigh nudges its way between your legs, the bulk of Azriel's body blocking you from all peering eyes but one.
Tyson vibrates with rage as Az guides your hips, dragging your clothed cunt along solid muscle until lids flutter and lips part. It's an agonizing kind of pleasure—one that's everything and nothing at the same time. Stimulating but not fully satisfying when you really crave the turgid length of his cock that strains against his leathers.
It takes a second too long to realize that he's not really doing this with your pleasure in mind.
He barely pays you any real attention as discreet shadows creep under your top to twist at taut nipples, squeezing and pulling until the heartbeat in your chest travels all the way down to your pussy.
No, he merely uses you as a pawn. Plucking and toying, licking and biting at the junction of your neck until all that can be scented on you is arousal and Illyrian. "Az, I'm gonna—"
"Not yet, sweet thing. Want him to look at you when you cum for me."
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