#maybe hes not quite as full of himself as he pretends

[problemswithbooks]

So, I recently watched Helluva Boss and as always I've been prusing the tags for it on tumblr to see what other people think about the story and characters.

Something that stuck out to me is when people say Striker is a hypocrite because he hates the Royals, puts down Blitz and Fizz for being with Royals, but he, himself, works for one. Also that his pitch he gave to Blitz about teaming up to take down Royals was all a lie.

Now, I'm not going to say he's not being a bit of a hypocrite, especially given how much he hates Royals. What I will say is that I understand why Striker wouldn't see it that way (besides the fact he has a seemingly desperate need to feel superior to other imps).

Striker wants to kill Royals--that is very clear. A huge hurtle to that goal is that they are immortal. The only thing that can kill them is Angelic Steel--something that is rare and expensive. Yes, Striker is supposedly a well known assassin, but it's doubtful he'd ever make enough money to afford Angelic Weapons without taking on extremely wealthy clients. The wealthiest would be those at the top.

We don't know if Striker has worked with Royals before. If we assume Stella was the first Royal he was hired by, that makes his choice to work with her make far more sense. Particularly when we take into account who her target is--her equally Royal husband.

Unless stated otherwise later, Stella must have provided Striker with his Angelic Weapons so he could kill Stolas. She doesn't just give him a single weapon, either. She gets him a sniper rifle, pistols, a knife and a rope so he can incapacitate Stolas and take his vast magic abilities away, rendering him helpless. On top of that, she is also paying him money.

Given Stella never brings up the fact he lost the sniper rifle, or demands he return the weapons she provides, this deal he's making, although hypocritical, is only a benefit for Striker. He's getting paid to kill someone he wants to anyway, and a new arsenal that gives him the capability to kill Royals afterward.

This is why I don't think his offer to Blitz was a lie. I think what he told Blitz is his long term goal/plan, and was simply offering Blitz to join him since he found Blitz to be somewhat equal to him after Blitz did so well in the harvest games. Once they killed Stolas, got Stella's money, they would turn around and start using those funds and weapons to kill more Royals.

The reason Striker doesn't see himself as on the same level as Blitz and Fizz with their relationships with Royals is because he sees himself as using Stella, where he perceives Blitz and Fizz as being used. It's true that Blitz gets similar benefits from his relationship with Stolas (if Striker even knows about Blitz using Stolas's spell book for his business, I can't recall) but given what Striker saw of their relationship, he would see Stolas using silly pet names despite Blitz disliking it and see that as Blitz debasing himself publicly for Stolas. Yes, Stella doesn't treat him with the upmost respect, but it's over the phone, without witnesses. Nor does he give her anything in return except a dead husband--someone he would have targeted anyway.

He sees Fizz as even worse because, to him, it appears Fizz has given up his own autonomy to live a cushy lifestyle. Yes, Fizz gains many benefits from being with Ozzie, but Striker views it as letting Ozzie take advantage of him, to let Ozzie treat him like a pet (which some people do, do to some imps). He doesn't know Ozzie loves Fizz--franky I don't think he'd believe a Royal could love an imp at all anyway.

Yes, he may work for a Royal, and take her orders, but he does so to pilfer more and more Angelic Weapons from her as well as take her money, all of which I'm sure he tells himself he will later use against her and the rest of the upper class. It's a business transaction that he actually holds all the cards in. Unlike Blitz and Fizz he doesn't have to publicly debase himself to get the benefits he seeks. At least that's how he sees things.

[lovebugism]

i feel like eddie doesn’t seem himself as “hot” but obviously you do. you’re on your way to a pool party and steve’s and he walks out in just swim trunks asking if he looks okay (they were thrifted and he’s just making sure they fit correctly okay 🥹). y’all barely even make it to steve’s because you can’t get over how GOOD this man looks.

you're so real for this anon. ty for requesting :D — the one where eddie munson has no idea how pretty he is (established relationship, hurt/comfort, cw for mentions of body insecurity and allusions to smut 18+ | 1.1k)

Eddie stands in the corner of your bedroom, before the full-length mirror propped against the wall, and pokes himself once in the stomach. The pale, pudgy skin there dips under his pointer finger before bouncing back in place. He can’t stop looking at his tummy, which sits just barely over the hem of his swim trunks. 

It’s hardly noticeable. Nothing anyone else would bother looking twice at. But to him, it’s so distressingly obvious that the sight alone makes his chest ache.

“Do these look okay?” Eddie mumbles absentmindedly, not looking back at you as he runs his ringed fingers under the elastic edge of the plain black shorts. The gesture is obviously an anxious one — like, if he does it enough times, maybe he can stretch it out a bit. (It hasn’t quite worked for him yet.)

Your silence is palpable and hardly encouraging. 

Eddie looks at you over his shoulder, deep brown eyes glimmering with melted chocolate and distant worry, half-hidden behind his wild curls. He finds you lying in the middle of your bed — with your head in your palms and your feet kicked up behind you — staring right at him.

Your eyes meet. You blink hard, face burning as your glazed-over gaze regains its life once more. “Hm?” you hum, then clear your throat.

Eddie’s lips quirk faintly upward. A mere flicker of a smile at your coyness. “I asked if these looked okay.”

You look him up and down to admire his form, (which you’d been doing the entire time, in truth, only now you’ve got the go-ahead for your unabashed leering.) 

Your boy is a tower of milky white quartz — full of lanky limbs, fading tattoos, and dustings of sparse hair. As far as you’re concerned, Eddie Munson was carved by Michaelangelo himself. A hand-crafted sculpture lost to time who somehow wormed his way into your heart and Forest Hills trailer park alike. 

Your eyes trail from his pretty face, to his long neck, to the black widow tattooed on his collarbone. They land finally on the happy trail below his belly button that disappears into his swim shorts. 

Your breath catches in your throat. You swallow hard and try to come up with something to say as your brain short-circuits.

“Yeah. Yeah, they look— they look great, Eds,” you stammer, rising from your lounged position on the bed to sit along the edge of it. You squeeze your thighs together when a dull throbbing settles suddenly between them. “Do they fit okay?”

Eddie, unaware of your blossoming desire, turns away. He looks back at his reflection, and his eyes fall immediately to his stomach. He runs his pointer fingers under the hem of the shorts and pretends it does something. Though, it doesn’t change how much of his torso is on display just now. Or how pale his lanky legs are after being hidden all summer season.

“I think so,” he murmurs with an unconvincing waver to his voice. He shifts his weight on his bare feet and caves. “I don’t know— I think I’m just gonna change.” 

You rise from the squeaking mattress. The oversized tee you’re using as a makeshift cover-up floods your smaller form. You catch the boy’s wrist before he can reach for the clothes he left in a pile on your floor. 

“You promised you weren’t gonna wear jeans!” you protest in a playful whine.

Eddie meets your pout with a more exaggerated one — brows twisted, nose scrunched, mouth snarled.  “I know, but I hate these,” he says with a louder whine.

“I don’t want you to get heat stroke and die,” you confess, mousy and obviously sarcastic, as you fall into the boy’s bare chest. 

You wrap both arms around his waist and rest your chin on his sternum, blinking up at him with pretty, glittering eyes. You can smell the floral shampoo in his hair from here, and the musky cologne on his neck you bought for him last Christmas.

Eddie cups your cheeks with softly calloused palms. “Good to know,” he quips with a lopsided smile that he then kisses you with. The crooked grin tastes faintly of nicotine and boy — a nostalgic feeling more than a real flavor.

“I’m serious, Eds,” you tell him with a stern glint in your eyes, chin bobbing against his chest with every word. “They look great on you, okay? Cross my heart.”

His chest sparkles at the compliment. Warms so much it starts to hurt all over again. 

And it’s not that he thinks you’re lying, he just wishes he believed you more. Or that he could see himself through your eyes or something. They always get so squishy around the edges when you look at him — with an adoration he doesn’t know he deserves.

“You’d tell me if I look like an idiot, though, right?” he wonders, half-joking.

“I tell you you look like an idiot all the time,” you deadpan, equally half-joking.

That gets a laugh out of him. “Fair enough,” the boy nods with a quiet chuckle.

“But I like these. Seriously. You should wear them,” you advise firmly and step back from him. Eddie mourns the warmth of your body when only your hands reach out to touch him. “And you can blame them for making us late…”

Eddie’s brows furrow at the mischievous lilt in your voice. “We don’t have to be at Steve’s for another, like, fifteen minutes,” he insists with a breathy laugh that gets caught in his throat when your hand dips under the hem of his swim trunks. “Oh?” he hums with a crooked smile.

You nod with your bottom lip trapped between your teeth. The fuzzy hair of his happy trail tickles the soft skin of your fingertips. His skin is soft and warm and inviting. Your hand starts to ache with the longing to feel him completely.

Eddie forgets how to breathe when you cup his stiffening cock in your supple palm. His eyes go heavy as his pink mouth falls softly agape. “Oh…” he repeats, deeper and more far away this time.

You grin in the face of his distant pleasure, which you seem to give him with little effort now (like a total fucking minx.) Eddie’s chest twists at the roguish twinkle in your eye. He knows he’s surely in for it now, but he doesn’t mind it. He yearns for it, really.

He only hopes that Steve won’t mind either — when the two of you show up at his place a half hour or more late, mussed with an obvious pleasure and reeking of it just the same.

[xo100]

Wrapped in warmth - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: by @misspygmypie "obv with lando and reader, she's always cold and he always makes sure she's warm (like wrapping her up in a thick jacket on a rainy race day). Maybe best friends with underlying unresolved feelings? My fav trope lol!"

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1566

୨ৎ

The cool wind swept across the paddock, carrying with it the scent of damp asphalt. It was race day, but the usual energy buzzing through the grandstands was slightly dampened by the persistent drizzle that had started in the early morning and hadn’t let up since. Grey clouds hung low in the sky, casting a muted, heavy atmosphere over the track.

-

Lando Norris pulled the hood of his McLaren jacket tighter around his face as he jogged through the garage, his eyes scanning the small crowd near the pit wall. His race engineer was calling him over to discuss some final strategy adjustments, but Lando’s attention was only half there. He was looking for her.

It was almost second nature now. Whenever he arrived at the track, the first thing on his mind—after the car, of course—was to find where she was. And today, in this cold, miserable weather, he knew she’d be huddled somewhere, trying her best to act like she wasn’t freezing. She always did. Stubborn as she was, she hated admitting she was cold, even when she clearly was.

Sure enough, there she was, standing near the edge of the garage. She had a team hat pulled low over her head, but it wasn’t doing much to shield her from the biting wind. She was dressed in a light jacket—nowhere near enough for this weather—and had her arms wrapped tightly around herself, pretending like she was fine.

Lando sighed softly. He had known her long enough to recognize when she was putting on a brave face. They had been friends for years, ever since that awkward first encounter in the paddock back when he was still in F2. She had been working as a journalist back then, tasked with interviewing young up-and-coming drivers. But what was supposed to be a quick five-minute interview had turned into an hour-long conversation full of laughter, teasing, and a connection neither of them had quite anticipated.

From that day on, they’d been nearly inseparable. She followed his career closely, attending as many races as she could, while he supported her in her work, always sneaking off to catch up with her during the busy race weekends. They were best friends—undeniably close, and yet, there was something more between them. Something unspoken, simmering just beneath the surface, but neither had dared to voice it. There was too much at stake, too much to lose if they acknowledged the feelings they both tried so hard to ignore.

Lando glanced at her again, noticing the way she subtly shivered, even as she stood chatting with a few mechanics. He grinned to himself, his protective instincts kicking in. She could act tough all she wanted, but he wasn’t going to let her freeze.

Without hesitation, he crossed the garage and approached her from behind. “You know, you’re terrible at pretending you’re not cold,” he teased, his voice soft and playful as he gently draped one of his thick McLaren jackets over her shoulders.

She jumped slightly, startled by his sudden appearance, but relaxed as soon as she realized it was him. “Lando, I’m fine,” she protested, though her fingers were already reaching up to pull the jacket tighter around her body.

“Sure you are,” he replied with a knowing smirk, ignoring her weak attempt to push it off. “It’s freezing out here, and you’re acting like we’re on a tropical beach. You could at least try to take care of yourself for once.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue further, clearly grateful for the warmth. “You’re such a worrier, you know that?”

“Only because you’re impossible,” he shot back, nudging her gently with his shoulder. “If I didn’t look after you, you’d probably turn into an icicle by now.”

Despite her efforts to appear unbothered, her heart fluttered at his words, a familiar warmth spreading through her chest that had nothing to do with the jacket he’d given her. Lando had always been like this—caring in the subtlest ways, looking out for her even when she didn’t ask for it. And she couldn’t deny how much she loved that about him, even if it made navigating her feelings for him that much harder.

“Besides,” he added with a sly grin, “I can’t have my best friend turning into a popsicle before the race. Who else is going to be there to cheer me on?”

Her stomach did that annoying flip it always seemed to do when he called her his best friend. It was a label she cherished but also hated at times like this, when his easy affection made it painfully clear that he probably saw her as nothing more than that.

“Always so selfless,” she joked, hoping her voice didn’t betray the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. “But thanks. I guess I’ll keep it—for now.”

He laughed softly, the sound bright even against the grey day. “Good. Now, come on, I’ve got to get through a strategy meeting, but after that, I’m dragging you somewhere warm until the race starts. No arguments.”

Her laugh echoed his, though her heart was still lodged somewhere in her throat. Moments like these—where his kindness felt like something more than just friendship—they were becoming harder to shake off. Every touch, every teasing comment, every concerned glance… it made her wonder if maybe, just maybe, he felt something more, too.

But then reality would set in. Lando was focused on his career, on being the best driver he could be. The last thing he needed was complications—especially not the kind that could ruin their friendship. And so, she kept her feelings tucked away, hidden behind easy smiles and sarcastic remarks, not wanting to risk what they already had.

-

As the race drew closer, the drizzle had turned into a steady downpour, and the paddock was buzzing with talk of potential rain strategies. Everyone was scrambling to adjust to the wet conditions, but despite the chaos, Lando’s mind was still on her. The image of her standing there, bundled up in his jacket, stuck with him. He couldn’t help it—making sure she was okay had always been a priority, even if he never openly admitted it.

Lando knew that his feelings for her had grown far beyond friendship. Somewhere along the line, between the races, the late-night texts, and the endless teasing, his heart had gotten involved. He had fallen for her, completely and utterly, but fear kept him from acting on it. What if she didn’t feel the same? What if he ruined everything by admitting it?

The thought scared him more than any race ever had.

And yet, there were moments—like today, when she looked at him with that mix of amusement and gratitude—where he swore she felt something too. It was in the way her gaze lingered just a little too long, or the way she unconsciously leaned into him when he was close. Maybe he was imagining it, or maybe he was just too afraid to see what was right in front of him.

-

By the time the race had ended, the rain had let up, but the cold lingered in the air. The stands were still packed with fans, despite the weather, and Lando had just finished celebrating a respectable finish. Exhausted but happy, he made his way back to the garage, peeling off his gloves as he went.

As soon as he spotted her waiting for him near the pit wall, bundled up in his oversized jacket, a sense of calm washed over him. She was talking to one of the mechanics, laughing about something, but her eyes lit up when she saw him approaching.

“Congrats,” she greeted him with a grin, her voice warm despite the cold. “You didn’t win, but hey, at least you didn’t crash in the rain, so that’s something.”

He chuckled, rolling his eyes playfully. “Always so supportive,” he teased, though he appreciated the way she could joke with him, even after a tough race.

“Someone’s got to keep your ego in check,” she shot back, the familiar banter flowing easily between them.

Lando was about to respond when he noticed the way her cheeks were still slightly flushed from the cold, despite the thick jacket she was wearing. Without thinking, he reached out, gently tugging the jacket higher on her shoulders, making sure she was as warm as possible.

“Thanks,” she murmured, her voice suddenly softer, as if the weight of the moment had settled between them.

Their eyes met, and for a brief second, the world around them faded away. It was just the two of them, standing in the fading light, rain still dripping off the roof of the garage. There was something unspoken in the air, something that had been building for years.

Neither of them moved, but the space between them felt charged with all the things they hadn’t said, all the emotions they had tried to bury.

“Lando, I—“ she started, but before she could finish, one of the engineers called him over, breaking the moment.

He shot her an apologetic look, but the tension between them lingered, the words unsaid hanging in the air.

“Later,” he promised, his voice low and sincere.

She nodded, watching him walk away, her heart heavy with the weight of everything they hadn’t said.

And just like that, the moment passed.

But the feelings didn’t. They never did.

୨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; my first request! I hope you enjoyed it and that this was what you had in mind! If not let me know so I can change things! Enjoy it, love!

[whateveriwant]

I know you already did the 141 boys when their wife gives birth (which was fantastic btw) but maybe if they missed the birth because of a mission or whatever else your brilliant mind can think of!

Don't give me compliments because then I'll follow you home like a cat and you'll never get rid of me 😖

Price

(This goes for all the men, really) but he's absolutely gutted to not be with you as you're giving birth

Honestly, if he had the choice, he would've rather lobbed off his own arm than miss such a momentous occasion in both your lives

It’s nothing less than the literal fate of the world that's keeping him from you, and he makes sure to reiterate that over and over again

The only thing that gives Price a bit of peace of mind when leaving you at a time like this is knowing you have a strong support system to help you through it

And boy oh boy does he put those friends and family members to use by having them constantly text him with every update imaginable

What time your water breaks, how far apart your contractions are, how much you've dilated, so on and so on. He wants to know it all

While he has to remain focused during the bulk of the mission, when he's able to, he's whipping out his phone to scroll through the literal hundreds of messages that await him

The updates are so plentiful and detailed that if he tries hard enough, he can almost pretend like he was right there beside you all along

And once he gets to the pictures of you holding your little one for the first time, well… he's not afraid to admit that he sheds a manly tear or two at the sight

Soap

He kicked up quite the storm at work when he realized he was going to be missing the birth of his child

He did everything in his power to try to get out of the mission – to try to get back to you – but, ultimately, he had no other choice than to go

But he's not just going to go gently into the night. No, he has a few tricks up his sleeve to make it as if he's still there with you in some capacity

Like Price, Soap takes comfort in leaving you with a huge support system to help while he's away

And also similarly, he's recruiting your loved ones (more so their phones) into letting him video chat with you whenever he gets the opportunity

(Does that mean he snuck his unauthorized smartphone into the middle of a battlefield? …. Yes. Yes, he did. .……....… Don't tell Price)

You'll be in the midst of a call with him and a bullet will fly right by his head and embed itself in the wall behind him

Of course, this has you incredibly concerned, worrying over how you're distracting him when he should be focused on his mission

But he assures you there's no need to fret, dear. He's perfectly safe and everything’s completely fine

(Oh, and just disregard that sound in the background, hun. No, it wasn't a bomb. Heavens, no! It was a… a… piano falling out a window)

Gaz

Even when he's away on mission during normal circumstances, he's calling home all the time to check in with you

But given your current state, now he's checking in twice as much as he usually does

Expect a minimum of three calls a day just to ensure things are still all hunky dory on your end

It's during one of these calls that your water breaks, and as you fly into a state of panic, forgetting everything you're supposed to do, Gaz has to calmly walk you through the steps of what you'd planned

He's able to talk you down and make sure you get yourself to the hospital in one piece, but then after that call, weirdly, you don't hear from him again

It's not until several hours later when you've already delivered your child that you're awoken by the feeling of someone beside your bed

You look to see who it is and it's none other than Gaz himself – still dressed in his full gear, covered in all sorts of dirt and grime, a hushed apology pouring from his mouth

He's so sorry he couldn't get there quick enough, beautiful. He left as soon as he could once he'd pulled a few strings with Price

But you don't even care about the excuse because you're quickly enveloping him in a hug. With tears in your eyes, you assure him it's alright. He's here now, and that's all that matters to you

Ghost

When he was informed he was being shipped off to a remote location less than a month before your due date, he was livid

No phone, no radio, no communication of any kind with the outside world and he was supposed to be okay with that? He very much wasn't

The higher-ups had to really hammer home the whole “safety of the world” thing to convince Ghost to go, and even when he did, he did so grudgingly

He finds that as he sits in this shoddy shack halfway across the planet from you, all he can do is keep a mental tally of everything he’s missing

Going with you to your final check ups, helping you pack your hospital bag, holding your hand as you begin to push, etc. etc. etc.

But what about things he might not know about? What if something's gone wrong while he's been away?

He can't let himself think on it too much because he'll end up putting his fist through the drywall, and he needs at least one good hand to hold his child with when he meets them for the first time

Seven weeks, four days, and nine hours after he shipped out, Ghost is on a plane back home

He doesn't stop to talk to anyone when he touches down at base (not even to report to his superiors). He just gets into his car and books it, not letting off the gas until he's parked outside your home again

And when he finally reaches the front door, an unexpected tremor passing through him as he grabs for the handle, he closes his eyes, takes in a deep breath, and walks inside, beginning the next chapter of his life

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

please do one where they were like in a secret relationship and one day reader went live for her fans and idk maybe Tom walked in and now the secret's out. It's up to you how you go abt it. Have a nice day!!

Caught in 4k || Tom Blyth x gf!reader

A/n: Anon you read my mind.... I had this idea sitting in my drafts for quite some time!

Warnings: none!

Wc: 983

Divider by @pommecita

You stir in your sleep when you feel light kisses on your arm. "Good morning, love," He says, his morning voice making you smile as you turn around and place a kiss on his cheek, a smile adorning his lips. His arms wrap themselves around your waist as you both lay still, neither wanting to pull away from the embrace.

"I'm going to go for a shower," You say against his neck, his hands coming to your hips as he massages them. "Can I join?" His tone teasing as you consider the idea. "I fear if you do, we won't make it out of the bathroom for quite a bit," A smirk forms on his lips as you get out of bed, his hand still clinging to yours.

"I don't mind!" He calls out as you flip him off, not bothering to turn around as you shut the door behind you. After the calming shower, you wrap your body in a fluffy white towel as you squeeze out the excess water from your hair, letting it air dry.

You start to brush your teeth as you hear the bathroom door opening. Tom enters in only his boxers as he makes his way to you, arms wrapping around your towel cladded body as you lean back against him. You smile at him through the reflection you mouth frothy with the toothpaste as he smiles back at you.

You bend over to spit out the toothpaste as Tom pretends to fuck you from behind as laughs erupt from your mouth. You lean back up, slapping him across his chest as he smiles innocently at you. Going on your tippy toes, your arms loop around his neck and place a kiss on his lips, a few actually, as you both smile in between them.

"I feel like making pancakes, do you want blueberries or chocolate chips in yours?" You ask him whilst applying lip balm on your lips as he turns the shower on. "Chocolate chips please," He grins at you as give him a thumbs up and walk out picking out an outfit.

You pull back the curtains revealing dark clouds that littered across the sky of Brooklyn. You smile to yourself knowing today was going to full of cuddles and watching Harry Potter films with Tom. Walking down stairs, a thought plagued your mind.

You wanted to go live on Instagram as you felt as if it had been too long since the last time you did one. You leaned your phone up against a fruit bowl as you start the live. "Hey guys!" You smile as you watch thousands of people join in a matter of seconds.

You then continued to pull out the ingredients to make pancakes as you answer some of the questions that people asked. Tom walks down a few minutes later, wondering who you were talking to as your voice travelled upstairs.

He sees you in the kitchen, your back towards him as you talk about the weather. He decided to surprise you so he slowly walked up behind you and wraps his arms around you as you slightly jump. "Fucks sake, you scared me!" You sulked as Tom laughs, peppering the side of your face with kisses as your hands go up to his arms around your neck.

"Oh shit," You silently curse as you freeze, remembering you were still live on Instagram, "What?" He asks confused. You discreetly glance back and mentally face palm yourself as your phone was directly aimed at the two of you which meant that thousands of people witnessed it and most definitely concluded that you and Tom were together, which was very much the truth.

"I'm live on Insta," You whisper as you feel Tom physically pause as well, probably processing your words. He turns his head and makes eye contact with himself on your phone as he awkwardly chuckles. "Oh hey.." He trails off as you burst out laughing. "I'm going to go put a shirt on," Tom quickly says as he runs up stairs to get one.

You watch as comments blow up and you couldn't contain your smile. Everyone was going crazy as they flooded the comments with questions. You hear Tom walk back down, a shirt on his previously naked upper body as you hold out you hand and he takes is. "Well, guess it's out," He chuckles as the both of you read the comments.

Tom leans his hand against the counter as you rest your head on his arm. "Shit, I almost forgot the pancakes!" You panic as you go back to the stove and continue cooking the batter. You and Tom kept your relationship as private as you could, fans speculated that you were dating each other but nothing was confirmed, well until the live of course.

"How long have you two been together?" Tom reads out loud as you get plates for the two of you. "3 years now is it?" You say as Tom thinks about it, "Yeah, 4 years coming this September," he smiles. You come up beside him, resting your chin on your hands that were on the counter as you read through the comments, too immersed to notice that Tom was staring down at you with a huge smile on his face.

A comment mentioning how Tom is looking at you makes you look behind you, "What?" You shyly laugh as he says nothing, shaking his head. Tom takes over with making the pancakes and eventually they are done. "Well guys I'm going to end the live here and eat these pancakes with my wonderful boyfriend, bye!" You say as you end it.

You make eye contact with Tom as you both start laughing. He hugs you and kisses your forehead. "At least we don't have to keep hiding this in public anymore," He says as you agree with him.

[prentissluvr]

three seconds — sam winchester

for : 200+ followers event [ closed ] ➖⟢ pairing : sam winchester x gn!reader ➖⟢ genre : fluff ➖⟢ cw : light swearing, accidental cuddling, casual mention of marriage between sam and reader (it's just dean teasing tho lol), idiots friends to lovers, kissing, barely edited ➖⟢ wc : 1.2K prompt : sleeping in the same bed, as they’d often do, but one morning waking up cuddling

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

to be truthful, this isn’t the first time you’ve woken up with yours and sam’s limbs entangled with each other’s. it’s just far less common for his hand to be so gloriously attached to your waist or his face to be tucked all sweet and warm into your neck. your own hands are placed in his hair and on his broad shoulder blade.

waking up like this is heaven; first, in the moments before you can process exactly what is happening, and second, once you realize and can bask in the splendor of having him so intimately close and vulnerable with you. then it comes crashing down as you remember that this isn’t quite how it’s supposed to be, and that you’ll never, not for a moment, be able to get this feeling out of your head, your body.

which means every moment after you untangle yourself from him will be full of a pure, undying, taunting want, maybe even need, to have him like that again. such a feeling is a general inconvenience as one considers that sam is your best friend, that he and his brother are just about all you have, and that you’d rather die than lose them to the fact that you’re in love with him. so clearly, it’s better he never knows, it’s just that constantly thinking about cuddling with him tends to lead to you making heart eyes at him or your cheeks flushing hot when he looks at you a moment too long.

then there’s the realization that sam is still asleep, the steady rhythm of his breath tickling your neck is both comforting and terrifying all at once. what if he wakes and jerks away, uncomfortable with your proximity? should you push him away before he even realizes the position you’re in? it’s not as if sam doesn’t enjoy physical affection; he pretends he doesn’t, but you’re convinced that he’s a cuddlebug at heart. maybe that’s an overly cute way of putting it, but you can feel how much he loves hugs, how much he enjoys having his head in your lap when you get a rare movie night. you’re just worried that this is too much, too close for even him.

and yet, you’re feeling selfish, because what if you never get him like this again? so you close your eyes again and just revel in the way it feels to have the tip of his nose pressed to your neck and his forehead against your jaw. his hands on you, so steady and sure in his sleep. his hair, soft between your fingers and the muscle of his back under your palm. his leg, tucked between yours. just the weight of him, pressed against you all solid and real and almost immovable until he wakes.

you hear dean stir a few feet away and you pray he won’t be able to tell you’re not asleep. breath even and eyes still gently closed, you hear dean move about, mumbling to himself. he’s digging around in a bag, pulling something out. then you feel him move closer and you swear he’s hovering at the foot of the bed.

then you hear a click, like that of a camera shutter, and you realize dean’s taken a picture of the two of you like this. pictures of the three of you are rarer, and dean being the one to take it means it’s special. you suppose blackmail is special in its own way and beg to no one that dean didn’t hear your breath hitch as you realize this moment is now immortalized by a picture that dean’ll print out someday and shove in your faces to make fun.

then dean’s mumbling to himself again, now close and loud enough for you to make out his words. “these two,” he sighs, tone practically chastising as if he sees something glaringly obvious, but the both of you can’t seem to quite get there. “i swear, the heart eyes from across the room, the longing gazes. god, they’ll be the death of me.” 

he really, truly thinks you’re asleep. he talks like this when he doesn’t know you can hear him. though usually not about you and sam, not like this. “they’re both such idiots. idiots in love,” he laughs humorlessly to himself, then turns away, stuffing the camera back in the bag he dug it out from. “maybe i should lock them in a closet,” he considers, voice so low you can barely catch his words, “see who caves first. then they’ll probably only thank me for that or the puke-inducingly cute photo once they’re married, those ungrateful asses. kids these days.” he lets out a huff of breath as he heads to the bathroom, seemingly done with his ranting about … about what? you and sam being in love with each other? what the hell was he saying, married? you and sam? you have to hold back from letting out a lovesick sigh.

you’re so caught up turning dean’s words over in your mind that only sam’s hand lightly squeezing your side brings you back to the present. your eyes shoot open and you pull your hand out of his hair. sam parts from you, barely. how long has he been awake? you’re almost too scared to look at sam, who hasn’t even attempted to untangle himself from you. he’s still got his hand on your waist and his leg tucked between yours and your eyes catch his without you meaning to. it’s always like that; your eyes will wander until they find his face, every time. it’s habit, instinct, unavoidable.

he looks at you long, and something about his pretty eyes turned green from the morning light and the color of the sheets keeps you holding his gaze, taking him in as he does you.

when sam finally speaks, his voice is hushed, but there’s this barely contained joy to it, begging to be released. “think we should save him the trouble?” the playfulness in his voice tugs at the corner of your lips. when he sounds happy, you can’t help but feel that way.

“of?” you ask, thinking you know what he means, but wanting to be sure.

“of locking us in a closet. sounds like a bit of a hassle, if you ask me,” he smiles at you, and his words plus the sight of his dimples has got you grinning without restraint. you wonder again how long sam was awake, but completely without apprehension this time. all the two of you needed was a few playful words exchanged, and now you know. though you wouldn’t have without dean’s unwittingly overheard grumbles, so you supposed you will have to thank him after all.

“i don’t know,” you say with a false air of careful thinking, “seems like it could be fun, y’know? it’s been too long since we’ve played a good trick on dean, don’t you think?”

sam doesn’t have an answer for that because he’s been too busy staring at the way your lips move, still pulled into a smile as you talk. you take another good look at him and wonder, how in the world did i miss it? the way he looks at me?

if he doesn’t kiss you within three seconds flat, you’ll do it yourself. it takes him those three seconds exactly, and you move in such synch it’s possible that your lips meet right in the perfect middle of the barely-there space between you.

[mysicklove]

summary: Sukuna tries to teach Yuuji self-defense, but of course, he happens to forget how helpless the toddler is.

cw: mentions of death/kidnapping, reader gets called helpless

wc: 1.4k

a/n: i love them so much. its so fun to write this au!!

big brother au masterlist

When you walk into the living room, you can’t help but smile. Truly, was it a rarity to see Sukuna and Yuuji getting along nicely. Of course, Yuuji was always sweet, but Sukuna was a brat and found that hanging out with a four-year-old was not really his cup of tea. Or at least, that’s what he proclaims to you.

Yuuji throws a punch at his brother’s hand, brows furrowing in concentration. Sukuna sits on the floor, cross-legged, and in front of Yuuji, who was standing at his full height. The older sighs, “Well, that was pathetic. Harder.”

The boy nods, obviously trying to hold back a smile. He wanted to seem just as serious as Sukuna did, but it was hard for the toddler due to how smiley he always seemed to be. But he lets out a tiny huff and brings his fists up to his face. Then, he makes a little “Hii-ya!” noise and slams his fist into Sukuna’s open palm.

“Okay, this ain’t working. Fuck, how are we of the same bloodline? I was not this weak,” Sukuna complains to himself, pulling his hands down. 

You roll your eyes and step into the room. “Maybe because he is a four-year-old. Don’t think it’s his job to be strong,” You say, and Sukuna’s eyes flicker to you. A smile pulls at his lips, and the man begins to stand up from the floor to greet you. Yuuji beats him to it though, letting a high-pitched squeal in excitement before running over to you.

You grin at the noise, watching the boy waddle over to you with bright eyes. You crouch down to his level and greet him, ruffling his hair. Then you pinch at his cheeks, ignoring the whine of complaint from Yuuji. “You are way too cute to fight! Huh, no fighting for you. You just gotta stay this small forever!” You coo, peppering kisses to the boy’s cheeks and forehead. 

The boy lets out a fit of giggles and a “Noooo! Wanna be big like Kuna!”

You shake your head, a fake pout on your face. “But Sukuna isn’t cute at all,” You half-heartedly complain, sparing a glance at your lover.

He walks up to the two of you and picks up Yuuji by the back of his hood, causing the kid to squirm in the air. Sukuna pays no mind to it, instead looking toward you, who is standing back up. “Don’t lie,” He scolds, and you raise your eyebrows, “I am adorable.”

You chuckle at him, rolling your eyes, and he in return presses a quick kiss to your lips. His brother begins to whine in complaint, causing the older to roll his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, quit whining. I’ll put you down in a second, little pest, but you need actually to put in some effort to fight me.”

“Okay!” Yuuji exclaims, and Sukuna sighs. Yuuji was so agreeable. When Sukuna was that age, he was supposedly a brat who argued with everyone, or at least that is what he had heard. Yuuji was strangely different than him. He didn’t know if he minded it or not.

Sukuna puts the boy down and sits again on the floor. He glances at you, who is taking a seat on the couch. Your eyes seem to read, play nice. It makes Sukuna want to roll his eyes, but the kid distracts him again, his tiny hands placed on the knees of Sukuna’s sweatpants while he grins up at his brother. The little beast had no concept of personal space, and the older of the two swears he can feel his brother practically breathing on him.

Sukuna pushes the boy off, sending him falling on his backside. “Sukuna,” You warn, but he ignores you. Yuuji only frowns and gets back up again, climbing back over to the other.

“Pretend im a kidnapper,” Sukuna demands, straightening his back and moving closer, taunting the small boy. “I am a very bad man who is going to take you home with me and lock you in my–”

“Sukuna!” You interrupt before Yuuji could hear his brother’s unneeded explanation. Yuuji seemed to stare owlishly at his brother, a little nervous but mostly confused about what he was talking about.

The man grins at you and shrugs his shoulders. But he abides to your wish with a scoff. “...Do bad things to you,” He weakly finishes. “Now, defend yourself!” 

Yuuji’s hands go up into his mouth, tiny fingers playing with his lips, and he shakes his head with a giggle. “But big brother will protect me!”

Sukuna pinches the bridge of his nose, and you let out a small laugh. “I’m dead.” Yuuji’s face visibly falls. “The kidnapper killed me because you were too weak to defend yourself and save me. Now look, Y/N is all alone and helpless because of you.”

Your mouth opens in shock at the bluntness of it all. Yuujis eyes are wide, and he goes silent for a second. Then, his mouthline begins to wobble, and his eyes begin to water. “Kuna gone?”

Sukuna begins to backtrack, not wanting to deal with his brother’s tears. He stumbles toward the child, eyes wide. “It’s a hypothet–”

Yuuji’s scream sends you scrambling to your feet and over to the pair immediately. You grab Yuuji by the waste and swing him around, a huge, forced smile on your face. “And boom!” The force of it all startles the small boy, and he pauses his cries for a moment with owlish eyes while you continue to swing him around. “Y/N comes in and saves the day! And guess what, Sukuna was just sleeping!”

You place Yuuji on your side and help wipe his tears away. Only about two or three fell before you grabbed him, but still, his eyes seemed to be slightly puffy. The boy continues to sniffle, hands rubbing at his eyes. “Just sleeping?”

Before you could answer, Sukuna tears the boy from your arms. He holds him up in front of him by both of Yuuji’s underarms, causing the boy to dangle in the air. “I’m offended that you would think I would die so easily, brat.”

A smile begins to crawl up Yuuji’s face, but he shakes his head, and his voice holds a whine to it.  “Don’t. Don’t like it.”

Sukuna sighs before placing the boy on his hip. Yuuji seems to find comfort there, burying his head into his brother’s shirt. It was rare to be held by Sukuna, and Yuuji obviously wanted to soak up all the time he has up there. “Yeah, I don’t think I would like being dead either. Luckily, your brother is the strongest, so you won’t have to worry bout that, yeah?”

Yuuji nods into his brother’s side, grinning and possibly wiping snot onto Sukuna. You take this time also to add your say in the matter. “And I’m not helpless.” You glance at the man who was just remembering what he said in the moment.

“C’mon, maybe just a little?” He teases, and you step closer to the pair, fighting back a smile. But before you could retort another teasing bite, the boy interjects his opinion.

“Nuh-uh! Y/N saved us. You sleeping, Kuna!”

You fake gasp in realization of his words, and Yuuji’s eyes light up. “Oh my, you are so right, Yuuji! Don’t you think he is the helpless one?” You coax, and Yuuji seems to lean toward you at your excited tone.

He nods his head rapidly, not really knowing what he is agreeing to but just trying to mimic your actions. “Kuna helpless!”

Sukuna rolls his eyes at the two of you and pinches the boy’s cheek, looking down at his brother. “Says the one who had a whole breakdown over the word–”

“Sukuna.”

Sukuna takes a deep breath and glances at you and Yuuji’s big dark eyes. He shakes his head in defeat, “Yeah, guess I am, ain’t I?”

You crack a smile, and Yuuji squeals in delight, digging his tiny hands into his brother’s shirt. Sukuna ruffles the boy’s hair.

[fredwkong]

The Voice in Your Head

Graham was excited about moving into his new apartment. It was in a nice part of town, with good transit access to his job, plus it was pretty spacious for the price. Graham could just picture himself, his plants, maybe a boyfriend, all fitting neatly into the apartment, with its nice hardwood floors and retrofit kitchen.

So, he was quite surprised, on moving day, when the neighbour across the hall grabbed his arm and pulled him aside. “There’s something weird about that unit,” the guy hissed in a low voice.

“What are you talking about?” Graham frowned. This guy looked totally ordinary in every way, in his button-up shirt and neatly parted hair. There was no way he was some crazy conspiracy nut.

“The guys who live in there,” the guy continued, seeming frantic, “they change. Most of them get spooked and move out in a few weeks. I’ve never seen one last longer than two months. That’s why the rent is so low.”

“Bull.” Graham tugged himself free. “What is this, some kind of weird building hazing or something? What a way to greet a neighbour.”

As he marched away to unlock the door for the movers, Graham felt his new neighbour’s eyes on his back.

Even though he did his best to put the strange conversation out of his mind, Graham kept thinking about the guy’s words as he unpacked for the rest of the day. He had seemed way too sincere for a prank.

At one point, one of the movers gave a sudden shudder and dropped a box full of Graham’s work shirts and coat hangers. “Sorry,” he muttered, blinking away the wild look in his eyes as his coworkers stared, “there was a...smell.” Graham noticed that he was one of the first to leave the apartment to go wait in the moving van once everything was carried in.

Left alone after the movers set up the basics—bed, couch, dining table, desk, TV stand—Graham stood in the kitchen, trying to recapture his excitement for the new apartment. He couldn’t help feeling like the sunlight through the big windows of the living room looked a little watery, like it couldn’t fully enter the space. Even though it was nice and warm inside the apartment, Graham felt strangely clammy, and he couldn’t settle down.

In an attempt to use the restless energy, Graham paced to the bedroom and cut open his boxes of work clothes. He had a pretty ordinary cubicle job, so there was a certain standard of professionalism to meet, but Graham also loved business clothes. Getting dressed for work, for Graham, was like putting on a professional person, like he could pretend to be someone else for 8 hours a day. He had dozens of slim-fit button-ups for his skinny body, perfectly chosen to match his pale skin. Matching sets of slacks and blazers quickly filled the closet.

The action was soothing, and pretty soon Graham was unpacking his loafers. He’d cleaned them before putting them in the box, but he decided to give them a quick polish before putting them on the shoe rack. As he went to get a rag, Graham suddenly thought, I bet those won’t fit for long.

He stopped, halfway to the kitchen. The thought had been so out of character and strange. But, it sounded like his internal voice. It was a weird feeling.

Don’t worry about it.

Graham shook his head and resolved not to worry about it, grabbing the rag and putting his shoes away.

That night, Graham had trouble getting to sleep. It was like he couldn’t get warm, even under all the covers. He tossed and turned until, finally, he drifted off.

It was still dark when his eyes opened. Somewhere around 4 AM. Feeling strangely detached from himself, Graham swung out of bed and padded to the bathroom.

Looking into the mirror in the darkness, Graham found himself stripping out of his silk pyjamas to see his own skinny, pale body. His lips moved, and Graham heard himself mumble, “We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

As if puppeted by someone else, Graham’s body moved through a series of bodybuilding poses. “There’s potential, though,” he heard himself mumble into the darkness.

He lifted up his arm and stuck his nose into his armpit, frowning. “Don’t worry, dude, you’re in good hands,” Graham’s voice told him. “I’ll go slow so you don’t get spooked.” Then he chuckled to himself. “Heh, spooked.”

The morning sun had Graham blinking awake. He’d had a strange dream, talking to himself in the bathroom. But as he pushed aside the covers, Graham frowned. He was naked, even though he always slept in pyjamas.

The pyjamas were on the bathroom floor, tossed carelessly. Well, Graham thought, maybe he’d overheated…while on the toilet.

Anyway, he’d been too tired to take a shower last night, but he definitely needed one before work today. Graham stepped into the shower and turned the tap, but was disappointed to hear a gurgling somewhere in the pipes. Only a few drops came out.

One more day won’t hurt.

“One more day won’t hurt,” Graham said, vocalising what his inner voice had said. He would email the building manager and get the shower fixed today. In the meantime, he applied a few extra layers of deodorant and fixed his hair as best as he could.

Still, Graham was self-conscious all day. He dreaded any coworker getting close enough to smell him or notice that his skin was a little greasy. By lunch break, he had rehearsed in his head a whole speech about walking to work to explain why he was so gross. It was a relief when the clock hit 5 PM and no one commented.

The repair man was standing outside Graham’s apartment when he got home, and he let them in. Apparently, there was nothing obviously wrong with the shower. It even ran on the repair man’s first try at turning the tap. Still, the man recommended that Graham put aside some tap water in case it kept acting up. At least he could take a sponge bath.

No problem, it’s not an urgent fix.

“No problem, it’s not an urgent fix.” Graham wasn’t sure why he’d said that. It was like someone else had spoken through his lips. It was kind of urgent to have regular showers. But he shook hands with the repair man and smiled as he saw him out. If the shower was just randomly acting up, he’d learn to adapt to it.

The guy across the hall looked out his door while Graham stood there, thinking through the strange thought he’d had. “You okay?” he asked. “Nothing…weird happening in there?”

Nothing to worry about.

“Nothing to worry about.” Graham smiled at his neighbour. Yeah, he was feeling pretty relaxed. With his move done, he really did have nothing to worry about. He was just jittery about his new place. “Graham, by the way.”

“Leo,” said the neighbour, still looking rather nervous. “You sure? Usually, guys go screaming down the hall their first night, yelling about feet and nightmares, like they're being haunted.”

Not this time.

“Not this time.” Maybe Leo really was some kind of conspiracy theorist. Graham still had more unpacking to do. “Nice to meet you.” He closed the door.

First things first, though, Graham wanted to finally get his first shower in his new place. He went and turned the tap.

Nothing.

Graham took a deep breath to calm himself down and went to fill a pot with water from the kitchen sink.

Hahahahaha. Laughter filled his mind. Graham froze in the middle of the kitchen. No matter what, his mental voice laughing at him couldn’t be a good sign, right?

The only thing to do with a problem is laugh.

That logic seemed sound. It wasn’t the way Graham usually dealt with problems, though. He was the kind of guy who tended to panic at the slightest opportunity.

He must be maturing.

Chuckling a bit to himself, Graham went to get his basin of water for a sponge bath.

The sponge baths really weren’t so bad, and by the time the shower started working randomly a few days later, Graham couldn’t find any of his soap or shampoo. He had a vague memory of dreaming that he’d thrown them out, but that was ridiculous. Every time he thought about getting more bathing supplies, he’d have the thought that it was just a lot of effort. He was doing fine with water alone, why complicate it?

One night a week or so after his move, Graham found himself staring at his ceiling late in the night. He must be dreaming again. He felt his lips move. “I think I’m gonna try moving in for real, just a bit. Don’t mind me.”

Suddenly, Graham’s feet went ice cold, and a strange, wet, slippery sensation slid into his feet. They felt…tight, like they were overfull somehow.

“Yeah, you’re gonna be a tight fit. Don’t worry, I’ll work you in slowly,” said Graham’s mouth.

Still with that strange, distant sensation, as if he wasn’t in control of his body, Graham sat up in bed and swung his feet to the floor. He watched as his toes wriggled and something shifted under the skin. They did look a little bloated. Over several minutes, Graham watched like a passenger while his feet flexed back and forth, looking a little larger with each twist of the arch and ankle. Dark hair began to sprout on his growing toes.

At last, they seemed to stabilise, and Graham’s body lifted his right foot up. A faint, but distinctive, aroma rose from the massive sole. “Mmm, smells like being alive,” said Graham’s mouth with a smirk.

The next morning, Graham laid in bed for a long time. He’d never been a foot guy, so this dream was especially strange. He realised, thinking back on it, that his cock had, in fact, been hard the entire time. There was even a stain in his Calvins—somehow, every night he’d worn pyjamas to bed he’d tossed them off while dreaming—like he’d had a wet dream.

When he got out of bed, he wondered why his feet looked oddly tan against the skin of his legs. And, later, why they felt strangely snug in his loafers. They pinched where they had felt perfectly comfortable before.

When he got home, it was a relief to tear his shoes off, but Graham wrinkled his nose at the sharp aroma emanating from his sweaty socks. That was it, he resolved, he needed to stop procrastinating and wash himself properly again.

But it is sort of hot.

Graham paused as he was about to start making a shopping list. If he really thought about it, the scent was kind of hot. No one had mentioned that Graham wasn’t soaping up his body or deodorizing anymore. The smell from his feet hadn’t bothered anyone. It was like it was his own little dirty secret. Like another role he could play underneath his work role.

And the smell really was sort of attractive.

“New shoes” went on the shopping list.

Some sneakers, too. To get really smelly.

Right, Graham didn’t want to mess up any work shoes as he experimented with this new interest of his. “Sneakers.”

It was like his dream had opened a floodgate. Every night, Graham dreamed of his feet growing erotically, and each day they were just a bit larger, with just a bit more stink built up on them. In his dreams, Graham talked to himself, talking about getting gym equipment, a bunch of new clothes, even about how boring Graham found his job.

More and more, Graham found himself agreeing with his dreaming self. One evening, he put a bunch of gym equipment into his Amazon cart, then turned off his computer. Gym stuff cost a lot of money, he needed to be sure he wanted to buy it. But that night, he dreamed about sitting at his computer to finalise the order, and the equipment arrived a few days later. At that point, it seemed like a waste to return it, so Graham set it up in the spare room, where he had originally planned to have a library.

Books are boring.

Graham had decided books were boring.

Any time he was at home now, Graham kept finding himself thinking, “I should do a few reps.” The results were unbelievable, with muscles thickening all over his body in what seemed like just a few days. It wasn’t long before Graham was outgrowing all of his clothes, quickly wearing out three new pairs of jeans in as many weeks.

Sweats are better anyway.

Graham’s new fitness obsession extended into his dreams, too. The cold, slippery sensation still enveloped his feet every night, but it also covered most of his body now. In his dreams, Graham would feel himself get out of bed and strut to the bathroom to pose and flex as his muscles grew larger and larger, until they bulged off his frame.

Once his muscles had grown thick and tanned dark, Graham’s dreams went in a few different directions. Often, he would watch in the mirror as he sniffed his armpits or feet, jacking the thick, musky foreign cock that had grown in place of his average, cut dick. Sometimes, Graham would hear himself say, “Nah, needs some more,” after sniffing himself. Then, he would go to his home gym and pump out reps until he was coated in sweat.

He always woke up aching and coated in stale sweat after those dreams, with a pungent scent emanating from his armpits and shockingly larger feet.

Every few nights, Graham had a dream where he would run his thick, callused hands over his neck and face, subtly pinching and compressing his face until a handsome stranger looked back at him in the mirror. “There, that’s the real me,” he would say to himself in a deep, smokey voice.

After those dreams, Graham was always surprised to see his normal face in the mirror. And yet, there would be a familiar sharpness to his jaw, or the set of his dark eyebrows, that reminded him of the face in his dreams.

The world outside his apartment felt increasingly strange. It was like a part of his internal voice was missing. He had trouble understanding his own thoughts, now. It was like he was a jumble of two different people. Had he really used to spend most of his free time reading library books? Was he really the kind of guy who didn’t put himself up for a bonus at the end of the year?

The apartment was safe and secure. It was like Graham’s mind was wrapped in calm and good sense as soon as he walked in. His mind spoke louder, which let him make better decisions, like the time that he wore sweats and T-shirt to work. It had made perfect sense when he walked out the door, but then he had stumbled over his words when he tried to explain to his boss why he was dressed appropriately for work.

Long story short, Graham was arriving home early today. He was just unlocking his door when Leo came barrelling up the stairs in running gear. He stopped when he spotted Graham, just stepping over the threshold and into the wonderful calm of his apartment.

“Who are—Graham?” Leo stared at him. “Is that really you?”

Graham looked down at himself, then back over at Leo. “Uh, yeah?”

“No way. You’re so…muscular and tan. I barely recognise your face.”

“Yeah, I had a bit of a growth spurt.” Graham flexed a bicep with a grin.

“A growth spurt powered by anabolics and a talented plastic surgeon, sure,” Leo was frowning at him.

Graham was kind of offended by his rude neighbour. He’d put a lot of hard work into this body!

Yeah, I have. Get him in the apartment.

“Look,” Graham sighed, the words spilling from his lips like in his dreams, “I’ve had a bad day. Just come inside if you want to talk.”

Leo seemed to hesitate, just for an instant. “But that’s the—“

“Either get inside, or get out of my face.” Graham’s voice sounded a bit gruff to his ears, beyond just the depth that it had gained over the months he’d lived here. It was like it was another man’s voice.

Leo shook himself. “Okay.” He steeled himself and followed Graham over the threshold.

Perfect.

“Whew, it’s ripe in here, man,” Leo observed. “Do you ever shower?”

“Just with cold water.” Graham kicked out of his sneakers, freeing his massive, socked feet and stretching them out. More and more, he felt separate from his body, as if he was watching it move. Still, it hadn’t done anything he wouldn’t have done, he thought. He was just playing another role.

“Well, clearly, it’s not…enough…” Graham watched, his mouth held in a strange smile, as Leo seemed to lose his train of thought. The man’s nostrils flared, and he swayed slightly.

“Yeah, not so mighty and judgmental anymore,” said Graham’s voice. “You’ve forced me to move up my schedule a bit, but it’s not a problem.”

Leo licked his lips before answering. “Sorry, sir,” he said thickly.

“You’re the guy who’s been helping my potential bodies escape, aren’t you?”

“I warn them about this apartment…I keep listings for new places they can go…” Leo’s eyes started to clear, and he shook his head. “No, wait, what the fuck—“

In a flash, Graham leapt into action. He didn’t know how he got one of his sneakers in his hand, but he grabbed Leo in a headlock and shoved his face into the putrid interior. “Nuh-uh-uh, no escapes or exorcisms this time,” Graham’s voice whispered, as Leo thrashed in his strong arms. “The more you fight, the more you fall. Isn’t it hot? My sexy, sweaty new body all around you, and the smell and taste of my foot musk all over your face?”

As Graham spoke, Leo’s struggles weakened. Graham watched with amusement as they both slumped to the floor, a rock-hard boner growing in Leo’s running shorts.

Finally, Graham’s grip on the sneaker loosened, even as Leo reached up to hold it himself. “Look, this is all just a misunderstanding,” Graham’s said soothingly. “You’ve thought I was a sexy beast since I moved in, right? You loved my big, musky muscles and my foot stink. That’s why you made up that story about a haunted apartment.”

Leo’s eyes seemed to be rolling uncontrollably in his head, but he nodded.

“Now I’ve finally noticed you and invited you inside. You just couldn’t help yourself, you foot slut. You were gonna tackle me before I gave you that shoe to lick.”

Leo nodded fervently, moaning. A wet spot was forming at his crotch.

“Now we’re gonna go to the bedroom and I’m gonna shove my cheesy uncut cock in that virgin hole of yours, okay bro?”

“Fuck,” Leo gasped, muffled through the shoe. “Fuck yes, Graham.”

“Nah, man,” said Graham’s voice, picking Leo up like he was a doll, “I’d rather you call me Grey.”

As Grey’s thick cock entered Leo, Graham found himself watching as if from outside himself. He could see his own handsome, angular face as he fucked Leo. He could see Grey’s massive, musky feet shift as he gained a better angle to make Leo squeal. He could even watch the dribbles of sweat run over his thick ass as his voice gave short, sharp pants.

“Fuck yeah,” Grey said to himself in a harsh voice, picking up the pace.

“This is my body.”

“This is my fucking musk temple.”

“Made it all by my-fucking-self.”

“Feels fucking good to be alive.”

As Grey buried his thick, musky cock deep in Leo, shaking through his orgasm, Graham found himself back inside his body. Once again, he watched like a passenger as Grey licked his load out of Leo’s asshole, then sent his happy new foot slut on his way with a spare sneaker and instructions to stop using soap and add Grey's contact info to his bank account.

Eventually, Grey lounged on the couch, naked, idly stroking his slimy, still-lubed cock and scrolling through Grindr. “What do you think, Graham?” he said out loud. “Since it's my first night able to leave the apartment, I should go crash some boys’ b-ball game and make some more foot slaves, right?”

Graham couldn’t help but agree. He was just the voice in Grey’s head, after all.

This story is a slightly belated holiday gift for @idesofrevolution! Happy holidays, and here's to a hot and sexy new year ;)

[alchemistc]

Part One

Part Two

They make it past the second six months.

It's agonizing. It's wonderful. Tommy wants to scream.

"Why are you calling it your six month anniversary?" Hen asks, with a quirked brow, eyeing them both from across the twelve-top they'd scooped up (and modified under the careful scrutiny of the curmudgeonly bartender Joe) early.

Tommy's glad his hand is under the table. The nervous habit of running a thumb along the underside of his empty ring finger would be the kind of thing Hen notices.

"You don't just get a Mulligan on the first six."

It's been a year and a half since Tommy met Evan Buckley. Over, actually, since Evan had just gone a little insane instead of taking a step back to examine his feelings, at the start. It always makes Tommy wonder exactly how much he'd examined those first days with Eddie. He's heard the story, clips of it, bits and pieces scattered between everyone Evan knows, and he wonders if Evan will ever come to the conclusion that he'd had virtually the same reaction to Eddie, back at the beginning. It's settled, now. They are firm in their friendship, and any attraction that might be there isn't simmering under the surface waiting to blindside Tommy. But he wonders sometimes if Evan won't just bolt up in bed ten years from now to shake Tommy awake and tell him he'd had a crush on Eddie.

Ten years?

Christ.

If Evan ever knew how many times the future popped into his mind like a jump scare, he'd -

They're far past the deadline for annulment. At this point they're at "split the assets before you go". Can't quite talk your way out of a committed relationship six months post-marriage.

Neither one of them has brought it up, and Tommy is getting great at pretending like it's not a scythe shifting closer and closer every time the pendulum swings past him.

Evan tosses a balled up napkin at Hen and sticks out his tongue, and before she can do more than scowl there are five more people flooding through the door behind them to shout congratulations and drop into their seats to gossip.

---

Hiding it becomes a moot point. He's had it in his head this whole time that if it were to get out, it would definitely be Evan's fault.

The universe does enjoy a twist

He'd gotten a jumbled text from Evan mid-flight, and a more coherent one from Eddie when his captain asked him to turn the bird around and land, and he's a bundle of nerves as he spills through the barely open doors of the elevator and spots the rest of the 118 looking concerned off in the corner of the waiting room.

Eddie catches him first. Spots the look on his face and makes a valiant attempt to explain, to soothe his worry, but there's a nurse rounding a corner and all Tommy has gotten to this point is <Buck's being transported to Good Samaritan. He's stable but you should come.>

He's kind of an ass about it. He'll regret it later when she narrows her eyes and reminds him visiting hours have ended. He'll shoot back with the same shit he's gearing himself up for in this moment and they'll reach a detente.

"Evan Buckley. Do you have any new information?"

She eyes the flight suit he hadn't bothered to take off before booking it to his truck. Tilts her gaze behind him, to the 118, and maybe that's what does it. The idea that they're any more family than he is. "We'll inform family immediately with any updates."

Tommy can see Eddie wince out of the corner of his eye, but all he's thinking about is the hundreds of moments Evan's smile has left him breathless, all the promises they'd made each other that night with the neon lights of Vegas spurring them on.

"Seeing as I'm his husband, I'd like a full update. Now."

He regrets it the moment the words are out of his mouth. Not just because he's being a complete fucking dickhead about it, either.

The pendulum gets its first taste of blood and swings away again.

---

Evan grins at him. He's bruised and bandaged and high as a kite, and he's so fucking beautiful it nearly takes Tommy out at the knees. Thankfully he's already sitting.

Perched on a chair close enough to the bed that he's annoyed an orderly, a doctor, and two nurses, hand curled over Evan's in the bed, he's just finished confessing he can't keep a secret for shit and Evan is smiling at him.

The rest of the 118 is still waiting outside. He'd let Maddie go first, so it's likely Evan already knew this tidbit, but it doesn't hurt to be honest. Or so he's learning.

"You love me," Evan sing-songs.

Tommy sucks his lips behind his teeth to hide his grin. Blows out a breath. "So you're not upset?"

He looks - momentarily shifty. "Uh - don't be mad."

Tommy quirks a brow.

"It's - okay so you know how we have to update all our medical information every year for the insurance?" Tommy nods. Licks his lips. "Um."

The next sentence is a garbled rush. Tommy gets 'power' and 'just in case' and nothing else. "Say again?"

"I... Uh. I updated my forms."

That paperwork was due about two months after the Vegas trip.

"To... Just in case I was incapacitated, I wanted to make sure..."

"Evan," Tommy presses.

"You have, uh. Power of attorney. And you're listed as next of kin with Maddie. Just. Just in case."

It should freak the hell out of him. It should make him question everything they've been doing, with the open honesty crap, for the last eight months.

"I want a divorce," Tommy says, and then grimaces. "Shit, that's not what I - ." And Evan's grin gets wider. Like he knows. Like he understands. Like everything they've been building and breaking and rebuilding for the last almost two years has actually made him an expert at interpreting Tommy when he doesn't have the right words in the right order.

"Gonna need that ring you've got hidden in your moms music box," Evan says, and then someone is rapping impatiently at the door Tommy shut behind him as he practically shoved past Maddie to get to him. "I get to propose this time." Tommy bites back a choked laugh while half the 118 spill into the room to whisper-yell at them both.

[hoesluvjude]

Future Plans || jude bellingham

Word count : 1k

Genre: fluff

Author's note:Enjoy;)

Masterlist

The couch was soft, the room dimly lit. The faint scent of lavender lingered in the air, a testament to the candle Jude had lit earlier. You’d spent the better part of the evening watching an old movie, but now, the TV was off, and the room was silent save for the occasional hum of traffic outside.

Jude was sprawled out comfortably, his legs stretched across the couch. You were draped over him, your head tucked under his chin, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His arms were wrapped around you, one hand lazily tracing circles on your back while the other rested on your hip. He always had this way of holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

"You know," Jude began, a teasing edge in his voice, "I was thinking we should have ten kids."

You burst out laughing, the sound filling the quiet room. “Ten? Are you out of your mind?”

He grinned, clearly amused by your reaction. “Why not? Think about it—a whole football team! We could have family tournaments. And maybe an extra kid for the bench, just in case.”

You pushed yourself up slightly, giving him a mock-serious look. “Jude, do you have any idea how much chaos ten kids would be? The noise? The mess? The grocery bill?”

He chuckled, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face. “Okay, fine. Maybe not ten,” he said, but there was something in his tone that made you squint suspiciously at him.

“Wait,” you said slowly, “you’re not entirely joking, are you?”

Jude’s grin softened into something more thoughtful, and he shrugged, looking almost bashful. “Not really,” he admitted. “I mean, maybe not ten, but… I do love the idea of a big family. Coming home to a house full of laughter and love. Watching them grow up together, always having each other to lean on.”

You smiled at the thought, imagining a little one with Jude’s warm eyes and infectious smile. “They’d be lucky to have you as a dad,” you said softly.

He tilted your chin up with gentle fingers, his eyes locking onto yours. “And they’d be lucky to have you as a mom,” he said, his voice filled with so much conviction that it made your throat tighten.

He smiled at you, a little shy, and then tilted his head. “Okay, so maybe ten is a bit much. What about you? How many kids do you want?”

You leaned back against his chest, pretending to think. “Hmm… Two feels like a good number. But four could be fun, too. A nice mix of boys and girls, maybe.”

“Two or four?” Jude repeated, his hand resuming its gentle pattern on your back. “Okay, I could get on board with that. Two feels manageable, but four does sound kind of perfect, doesn’t it? A little pack of chaos, just enough to keep things exciting.”

You smiled at the thought, imagining a lively home filled with tiny feet running through the halls. “Yeah,” you said. “Two or four feels right. But let’s not lock anything in yet. We’ve got plenty of time to figure it out.”

Jude nodded, his expression softening as he gazed at you. “We’ll figure it all out together,” he said.

You fell into another comfortable silence, the kind that only happens when you’re with someone who feels like home. You could feel Jude’s chest rising and falling beneath you, the steady rhythm soothing in a way you couldn’t quite describe.

“So,” Jude said after a moment, his voice teasing again, “what do you think about matching family pajamas for the holidays? Too much?”

“Way too much,” you said, laughing. But even as you teased him, you couldn’t help but picture it—a future filled with warmth and love and the kind of moments you cherish forever.

“You know,” Jude said eventually, a playful lilt returning to his voice, “we could always practice.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. “You’re incorrigible.”

He grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “And yet, you’re still here.”

“Yeah,” you said, your voice softening. “I am.”

Jude’s expression turned tender again, and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you always want to be.”

You closed your eyes, letting his words sink in, and snuggled closer to him. In that moment, there was nowhere else you’d rather be. Our future might still be unwritten, but with Jude by your side, you knew it was going to be beautiful.

“Do you think we’ll ever get tired of this?” you murmured, your voice muffled against his chest.

Jude chuckled, a soft, musical sound that made your heart flutter. “Tired of what? You using me as your personal pillow?”

You pinched his side lightly, and he let out a playful yelp. “I meant us, silly. Being like this. Together.”

His hand paused on your back for a moment, and then he tightened his hold on you, pulling you impossibly closer. “Never,” he said firmly. “I could spend forever like this and still not have enough of you.”

You tilted your head up to look at him, and your breath caught in your throat. The way he looked at you—like you were his entire world—was enough to make your heart feel like it was going to burst. His eyes were soft and warm, his lips curved into a small, boyish smile.

“Forever, huh?” you teased, though your voice was soft, your own smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

He nodded, his expression turning serious. “Yeah, forever. And after that, if I can.”

“What about marriage?” you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I think about it all the time,” he admitted. “Waking up next to you every day, calling you my wife, knowing that you’re mine and I’m yours forever. It’s... it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, and you buried your face in his chest to hide your smile. “You’re such a sap,” you teased, though your voice was thick with emotion.

He laughed again, the sound vibrating through you. “You love it,” he said confidently, and he wasn’t wrong.

You fell into a comfortable silence after that, the weight of his words settling over you like a warm blanket. You could feel his fingers start tracing patterns again, this time on your arm, and it made you shiver in the best way.

[girllblogging777]

𝐼𝑅𝐼𝑆 — 𝑀𝐴𝑇𝑇𝐻𝐸𝑂 𝑅𝐼𝐷𝐷𝐿𝐸

↳ short mattheo riddle drabble based off the song “iris” by the goo goo dolls.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

and i’d give up forever to touch you

cause i know that you feel me somehow,

mattheo riddle never let himself feel anything other than hatred, until you came into his life. before you, he was just numb, nothing that pure rage and darkness. but with you, everything changed. he didn't need words or grand gestures, just being near you was enough to make him feel...something. it was like, for the first time, someone actually saw him. and the first time you touched him, when he let his guard down and let you in, something deep inside him shifted. you buried your face in his chest, and he froze, not knowing what to do. the only touch he’d ever known was violent and cruel, so he didn't know how to handle the soft, soothing way you held him. but once he gave in and wrapped his arms around you, he knew he’d give up everything for just one more second of this.

✩✩✩✩

you’re the closest to heaven that i’ll ever be

and i don’t wanna go home right now

everyone else saw mattheo as nothing but trouble, like he was born bad. darkness seemed to follow him everywhere, and he figured that was just how it was supposed to be. hell had probably been his destiny from the moment he was born. but then you came along. you, with your golden heart and warm soul, gave him a taste of something pure, something he knew he didn’t deserve. somehow, he had found his way into your life, into your heart, and for the first time ever, he understood what “home” meant. he never had a real home before, no place or person to run back to. but now, you were becoming that for him. his safe place, his shelter.

✩✩✩✩

and all i can taste is this moment

and all i can breathe is your life

and sooner or later it’s over

i just don’t wanna miss you tonight

mattheo wasn’t stupid. letting you in gave him hope, but deep down, he knew the truth. no matter how much he tried, he’d never be good enough for you. the connection you shared felt like a temporary dream, something that could disappear at any second. he promised himself he wouldn’t let anyone see him weak, but you made that impossible. the closer he got to you, the more he feared what would happen when it all fell apart. that’s just how he was, doubting everything, second-guessing every feeling. because he’d always been broken, and he couldn’t imagine anyone seeing past that. but with you, he wanted to try, even if it meant risking everything. because he found himself missing you everytime you weren’t around.

✩✩✩✩

and i don’t want the world to see me

cause i don’t think that they’d understand

when everything’s made to be broken

i just want you to know who i am

mattheo never cared about what the world thought of him. everyone saw him as ruined, a lost cause. they couldn’t understand the storm inside him, the pieces that never fit together quite right. he knew he was broken, and he had grown to accept that. but you saw through the cracks, past the sharp edges, and somehow, you still wanted to know him. he didn’t want to hide from you, didn’t want to pretend to be someone he wasn’t, but he didn’t understand why you stuck with him even after seeing his dark side. for the first time, he wanted to be seen. not as the person everyone else thought he was, but as the person he really was, deep down. he just wanted you to know him, the real him, the one who was scared, vulnerable, and maybe even a little bit hopeful. because in a world full of chaos and brokenness, you made him feel like he could be someone else, just for a moment.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

a/n : i thought about this after making the moodboard the other day, iris is literally the theme song of my life and i listen to it 24/7. anyways my requests are open, please like/comment/reblog and tell me if you wanna be tagged !!!

@iris-qt @tateshifts @myunperfektstorys @yikesitslush @sp7-mr @shiftingwithmars @redeemingvillains @helendeath @larmesdevanille @fluffycookies22 @reys-letters @mattheosdior @sylviaonyx @fbvreadingblog @moonlightreader649 @jolly4holly @elsie-bells @bellatrix-lestrange5 @icantkeepmyplantsalive @dexoq

[noira-l]

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠

⋆ ★ '𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞' - 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

chapter summary: Megumi awkwardly asks Satoru for help with his first shave after weeks of hesitation. Despite the teasing, Satoru patiently guides him, creating an unexpected bonding moment between them.

warnings: fluff, father / son moment, slice of life, first shaving, hitting puberty, razors, a little cut (blood, just a tiny bit), teasing, Megumi is kinda awkward and Satoru is proud to be a father figure.

author's note: Oke! So! I haven't seen a fic like this anywhere (might be wrong, correct me if so), and I found the concept totally adorable and couldn't resist writing this as soon as the thought popped into my head. Hope you like interactions between them ;3

It had been a long couple of weeks for Megumi.

Every morning, he stared at the mirror, glaring at the small, stubborn patch of facial hair growing on his upper lip and chin.

At first, he tried to ignore it, thinking it might just be a phase, something that would disappear as quickly as it had appeared. But each day, it seemed to taunt him, getting thicker and darker. It was an undeniable sign that puberty, the inevitable storm he’d been trying to dodge, had arrived.

Megumi wasn’t one for asking for help, especially with personal things like this. He liked his independence, his ability to figure things out on his own.

But this?

Shaving?

This was unfamiliar territory, and though he hated to admit it, he needed guidance. He had stared at the razor his guardian had left out on the bathroom counter for a few days, feeling its weight in his hand as he practiced slow, cautious strokes in the air, too nervous to actually try it on his face. The thought of cutting himself was embarrassing enough. The last thing he needed was to walk around with a face full of tiny nicks and razor burns.

After much internal debate, he came to an uncomfortable conclusion: the only person who could help him with this was Satoru Gojo.

That realization didn’t sit well with Megumi. Of all the people to turn to, it had to be him.

Satoru was playful, unpredictable, and never missed an opportunity to tease Megumi about anything remotely personal. The idea of standing in front of a mirror with Satoru beside him, cracking jokes and treating it like some kind of bonding experience, made Megumi cringe. But, as much as he wanted to avoid it, he didn’t have a choice. If he didn’t ask Satoru, he’d have to figure it out himself - and that was a gamble Megumi wasn’t willing to take.

So, he waited.

He waited through the days when Satoru went on missions, or came home so late that he didn't manage to reach him, waited through the long silences when the house seemed even emptier without him. When Satoru was finally home at his normal evening time, Megumi knew he was out of time. He had run out of excuses.

Tonight was the night.

With a mix of reluctance and awkwardness, black haired one found himself standing outside the bathroom door, his hand hovering over it.

Inside, the sound of running water splashed against the sink. Satoru had disappeared into the bathroom minutes earlier, likely getting ready for bed after a long day. Megumi shifted on his feet, internally debating whether to knock or to just turn around and pretend like none of this mattered.

But the patchy mustache on his face wouldn’t let him ignore reality any longer.

He raised his hand to knock, hesitated, then finally let out a quiet tap against the door, barely loud enough to be heard over the sound of water. For a brief second, Megumi hoped maybe Satoru hadn’t heard it, and he could walk away. Maybe he could figure this out some other time, when it didn’t feel quite so embarrassing.

The hope didn’t last long.

There was a pause before the door swung open.

Satoru stood there, relaxed as usual, with a long shirt on and a towel slung over his shoulder. His white hair was still damp from the shower, with a few strands falling sloppily across his forehead. A small smile appeared on his face when he saw Megumi standing with her hands clumsily folded, trying to look indifferent.

"Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite brooding teenager." Satoru greeted, leaning casually against the doorframe, he mischief in his voice unmistakable "What’s up?"

Megumi shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the floor before looking up at Satoru with a faint scowl.

"I, uh… I need your help with something."

Satoru raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued "My help? With what exactly?" his grin widened as if sensing the awkwardness radiating off the kid "Come on, spill it. What’s the big deal?"

Eyes lowered to the floor, a faint scowl replacing any response. Megumi let out a frustrated breath, clearly uncomfortable "I… I need to learn how to shave."

For a second, there was silence. Then, predictably, Satoru's grin morphed into a wide, amused smile.

"Oh, this is amazing." he said, unable to contain his laughter "You, Megumi Fushiguro, the kid who broods his way through everything, needs my help with shaving? Oh, this is great. Really great."

Megumi rolled his eyes, arms crossed over his chest "I knew this was a mistake." he grumbled, turning as if to walk away "Forget it, I’ll figure it out myself."

But before Megumi could take a step, Satoru reached out and grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back toward the bathroom.

"No, no, wait, don’t be like that. I’m just messing with you!" he said, though the smirk hadn’t left his face "Come on, let’s do this. It'll be fun."

Megumi frowned, but he didn’t resist as Satoru ushered him into the bathroom.

The space was bright and the counter was cluttered with Satoru's various personal care products, though half of them looked like they hadn't been touched in months. The smell of shower gel was in the air. The older one crossed his arms, looking far too pleased with himself as he eyed the younger one’s face with exaggerated seriousness.

"Alright, kiddo, let’s start by taking a look." the older said with exaggerated seriousness, leaning in to inspect Megumi's face "Ah yes, a fine crop of peach fuzz, right here." he teased, poking lightly at his upper lip.

Fushiguro scowled, batting his hand away "It’s not that bad."

"Relax, it’s a rite of passage." Gojo replied, turning to rummage through the cabinet "Ah, here we go! Shaving cream, razor, aftershave… hmm, now do I trust you with a razor, or do I need to call in a professional?"

"Just get on with it." Megumi glared at him, exasperated.

Satoru chuckled, but didn’t push it further. He grabbed one of many razors in a multipack from the cabinet and handed it to Fushiguro with a grin.

Black haired stood in front of the bathroom mirror, now smeared with a bit of condensation from Gojo's recent shower. The weight of the razor in his hand felt strangely significant, like it was a test of maturity that he wasn’t quite ready for.

Awkwardness lingered, thick and undeniable. Satoru stood beside him, fiddling with his own razor as if this were a casual activity they did every day, his usual playful smirk tugging at his lips.

"So! Just like there are many cursed techniques..." he began, his voice dramatic "... there are also many techniques for shaving. Some are more efficient than others, but today, I’m going to reveal to you my own secret shaving technique."

He turned the faucet on, letting the water warm up before grabbing a washcloth and handing it to Megumi "Okay, first, wet your face with warm water. Opens up the pores or whatever."

He followed Satoru’s instructions, wetting his face, though he still looked like he wasn’t entirely convinced this was necessary.

White haired one then shook the can of shaving cream dramatically before squeezed some into his palm and handing it to kid next to him "Now, the magic foam. Lather it up."

Fushiguro did as he was told, applying shaving cream to his face while Satoru stood beside him, doing exactly the same thing as he did.

"Don’t go too heavy. Just enough to cover your face, but not so much that you can’t see what you’re doing." he spread the foam evenly across his own face, demonstrating as he spoke "See? A nice, thin layer. You wanna feel the razor, not get lost in a mountain of foam."

He felt so awkward, like he was painting his face, but Gojo was watching him with a surprising amount of patience.

"Not bad, not bad." Satoru said, nodding approvingly "But don’t forget the neck, unless you’re planning on walking around with half your face looking clean and the other half looking like a scruffy mess."

"Can you be serious for once?" Megumi muttered, focusing on spreading the cream evenly to his neck as well, trying to remember all the steps Satoru had demonstrated earlier.

Satoru just grinned wider.

"Where’s the fun in that? Alright, now for the tricky part. The razor. You wanna go with the grain, not against it, or else you’ll end up with cuts and looking like you’ve been attacked by an army of tiny knives. That's funny, I had a situation like that in real life!"

Gojo demonstrated by making movements in the air, not yet applying a piece of plastic to his face. Megumi tried to feel with his hand how he should turn the tool, so that it would go as smoothly as the older one next to him.

"Always go slow. If you rush, you’ll look like you’ve been in a fight with a cat and lost. Here’s the trick." Satoru said, lifting the razor and positioning it carefully against his neck.

"Start with the neck. It’s the easiest place to mess up, but also the easiest place to correct." Satoru explained, his tone suddenly more serious, as though he was giving instructions for something far more important than shaving "Just avoid too much pressure on Adam's apple and move slowly."

Megumi watched intently as Gojo carefully and precisely glided the razor down his neck, avoiding the sensitive area with practiced ease. Fushiguro, feeling a little more confident, brought the razor up to his own neck and mimicked the movements.

"Like this?" he asked, his brow furrowing in concentration as he worked alongside the white haired one, both of them standing side by side in front of the mirror.

"Exactly. Nice and steady." Satoru said, casting a sidelong glance at the younger one "Not bad, kid. Now, once you’ve got the neck down, you can move on to more complicated terrain." he watched as Megumi did a few strokes across his neck, he waited patiently for him to finish.

Satoru finished shaving his neck with ease "Don’t forget to rinse the blade after a couple of strokes." he did just that, risning the razor in boiling hot water. Then turned his attention to his chin. He lifted the razor, positioning it just below his lower lip.

"Now we move on to the chin. Gotta be careful here too, or you’ll end up looking like you lost a fight to a particularly angry porcupine."

Fushiguro followed suit, doing his best to replicate the careful movements his guardian was demonstrating. The two of them stood shoulder to shoulder, both razor-clad hands gliding across their skin.

It felt oddly… normal. Like this was something they did all the time, though it was far from their usual interactions.

"You know, I wasn’t really blessed with much facial hair. Genetics didn’t think I needed a full beard to complement my already perfect looks. But who knows, Megumi - you might end up with more to shave than I do."

Fushiguro huffed, concentrating on his strokes "Yeah, lucky me."

Satoru’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he continued to shave "Maybe you’ll be able to pull off that rugged look, huh? The ladies love that. But me, well, everything went into my other attributes." he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Can you just focus?" he nearly nicked himself.

Gojo chuckled "That’s what I should told you, you need to stay focused. Look at that - you’re getting distracted."

Black haired one glanced down and saw that he’d missed a spot on his chin. He muttered something under his breath, but quickly corrected his mistake, his movements now a little more cautious.

Gojo finished faster than him, completely avoiding the cheek area, as he mentioned he had absolutely nothing to shave there, so he washed his face straight away, wiping it with a towel.

Fushiguro, on the other hand, had a few randomly distributed hairs in different areas that he managed to shave off quickly, starting to catch on to how he should direct the blade to get the best effect.

"You know..." his guardian said, leaning against the counter "... you’ll be doing this more and more. Puberty’s a relentless thing. Before you know it, you’ll be shaving almost every day."

Megumi sighed "Great. Just what I wanted."

He was almost finished, but just as he reached a particularly tricky spot, the razor snagged slightly, catching on his skin. He stuttered in his movement, flinching slightly as the blade nicked him.

"Hold up." Satoru said immediately, catching the motion out of the corner of his eye "I told you. You’re not fighting a curse here, no need to rush."

Megumi frowned, frustrated with himself, dabbing at the small cut "Yeah, yeah. I’m fine."

Gojo gave him a knowing smile, though it was softer this time "Just a small nick, no big deal. Happens to everyone the first time."

"Even you?" Fushiguro asked, though there was a hint of skepticism in his tone.

"Especially me. You should’ve seen my first shave. Looked like I went head-to-head with a blender." a wide grin appeared on the pale face.

"I doubt that."

The last bit of cream disappeared from the young teenager's face. He turned on the tap and rinsed off the rest of the little white lines that remained on his face. The towel absorbed the drops of water that ran down his neck.

He glanced at himself in the mirror. Instantly better. Although he reproached himself for the little scratch, Megumi was genuinely pleased with the effect he had achieved. Finally he wouldn't have to be embarrassed at school about how he looked.

Satoru, standing beside him, seemed far too proud.

"Look at that! Clean as a whistle." he said, examining his face with exaggerated approval "Not bad for your first time. But we’re not done yet."

"Huh? What now?" Fushiguro groaned internally, shooting his guardian a sideways glance.

He didn't understand a bit, after all he had just finished, what does this annoying type still want from him? It's enough that he feels stupid sitting here with him anyway, asking him for help.

"The grand finale." Satoru announced, picking up a small bottle of aftershave from the counter. He wiggled the bottle in front of the teen's face like it was some kind of treasure "Aftershave cream!"

"What’s it for?"

Gojo uncapped the bottle, squeezing a small dollop of the aftershave cream onto his palm "It’s for soothing the skin after you’ve shaved, kid. Makes sure you don’t end up with razor burn. Plus, it smells nice - very sophisticated, like you’re someone important."

Megumi raised an eyebrow, unconvinced "You sure it’s not just another way for you to mess with me?"

Satoru gave a dramatic sigh, shaking his head. "You wound me, Megumi. This is the real deal. You’ll thank me later."

He rubbed the aftershave cream between his hands and then gently applied it to his own face, patting it onto his freshly shaven skin with practiced ease.

"You don’t need too much, just a little to cover the areas you shaved. Trust me, it’s important. Otherwise, your face will feel like it’s on fire later."

Fushiguro eyed the bottle warily but took it from Gojo’s hand. He squeezed a small amount into his palm, hesitating for a moment before rubbing it between his hands and awkwardly patting it onto his face like the older one had done.

"Don't rub it in like you're washing your face." the older one said, grinning as he observed his technique "Just tap it on. Light touch. Gotta treat your skin like it's worth something."

Megumi muttered something under his breath, but adjusted his approach, patting the aftershave onto his cheeks and chin. The cooling sensation spread across his skin, soothing the slight irritation left from the razor.

"See?" Satoru said, giving a nod of approval "Nice and smooth. And now you smell like a responsible young adult."

"It’s... strong." black haired couldn’t help, but wrinkle his nose at the scent

White haired laughed, clapping Megumi on the shoulder.

"Yeah, but it fades pretty quickly. Besides, it’s part of the process. Get used to it - you’ll be doing this more and more."

Megumi wiped his hands on a towel, his face still tingling slightly from the aftershave. He looked in the mirror, taking in the results of his first proper shave. He looked good, like his normal self he was used to.

Satoru stood beside him, admiring his own reflection with a satisfied grin.

"Now you’re officially a man. Or at least, a step closer to it."

There was no respond to that, just flicker in younger eyes, as if he realised something.

Satoru grabbed the aftershave bottle and put it back on the counter, then turned to Megumi with a grin.

"Next time, we’ll get into the more advanced stuff. Maybe I’ll even teach you about beard shaping."

"I’m never growing a beard." Fushiguro shot him a flat look.

Gojo chuckled in respond.

"That’s what they all say. Just wait until it sneaks up on you."

The teen shook his head, already done with the conversation, but despite himself, he felt a small sense of relief. This whole shaving thing wasn’t as bad as he’d thought it would be, and Satoru - teasing aside - had actually been helpful. Weirdly enough, it was kind of nice having him around for things like this.

"Alright, shaving master..." Satoru said, throwing his arm around his shoulders as they left the bathroom "...let’s go show off that baby face to the world. And remember, every time you shave, think of it as another step toward adulthood."

"Pretty sure it’s just a step toward more chores." he snorted in respond.

Gojo grinned "Exactly! You’re getting it."

Megumi, now freshly shaved stood at the door of his bedroom, watching as his guardian stretch his arms above his head with a satisfied grin.

"Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?" Satoru asked, still clearly pleased with himself as he prepared to head to your shared bedroom.

Fushiguro shifted his weight from foot to foot, his eyes flicking down to the floor as he cleared his throat.

"Yeah, it was… fine." he muttered, glancing up briefly before looking away again.

There was a pause, then he added, barely audible "Thanks for the help."

Satoru turned toward him, his grin softening into something more genuine. He walked over to Megumi and gave him a playful pat on the shoulder, though his tone had a rare warmth to it "Anytime, kid. And hey - don't be embarrassed. You did good."

Megumi's face flushed slightly, and he gave a small nod before opening the door "Good night, Gojo."

Satoru smirked, watching him go.

"Good night, Megumi." he called after him, amusement dancing in his voice.

As Satoru lay back on the bed, a quiet sense of softness washed over him.

He hadn’t expected Megumi asking for help with something as simple as shaving to hit him like this. For all the teasing and playful banter, there was something deeper - Megumi was growing up and Satoru felt like he was more than just a protector, guardian or teacher.

He was part of that growth.

And he couldn't be more proud.

© noira-l 2024 | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, or redistirbute my work without permission

tl: @kalopsia-flaneur

[hana-no-seiiki]

May I request a yandere bat family with a Venti! Reader who has powers similar including his personality (except the reader doesn't drink alcohol)

I love your writing take care 🍟✨✨✨

B-but Venti’s whole personality is about alcoholism-

I’ll try my best tho so here ya go.

TW/CW: Reader takes the form of Bruce/Damian’s ancestor so they have black hair. But it isn’t their true self so make of it as you will. Soft Yandere. Multiple Invasions of Privacy.

YANDERE! BATFAM x VENTI! READER

You’re an immortal wind spirit. You reached the level of godhood quite a while ago and spent your days roaming the Earth.

Let’s say you were friends with Bruce’s (and therefore Damian’s) ancestor long ago, and after their death you took their shape.

Knowing these two’s genes you were quite the good looking fellow. Almost blending in as their distant relative.

You have no need for food, or other basic necessities. Hell you didn’t even need to go to school as your dominion over the wind allows you to know everything that has been spoken.

But you took it upon yourself to always be there to guide your friend’s progeny, and thus you found yourself in Damian’s school as his classmate.

You seemed pretty lax. Carefree. Maybe even lazy. Damian didn’t really care much about you aside from the fact that you looked a bit similar to his father. Many people had black hair anyways. It’s not like you were super cute and his eyes kept wandering back to you or anything.

But then you aced many of the classes.

He never saw you study. In fact you spent most of the class trying to distract him or conversing with his other classmates.

This caused him to do an investigation about you, where he found out that you don’t even exist.

At least in the eyes of the government and even the files his father kept.

You meet Tim similarly. Let’s say you three of you go to the same college and similar to Damian, you also decided to take care of the other batfamily.

…

You kind of bullied the poor guy.

You clicked pretty quickly and he was swift to start stalking you. But then also found himself with the same trouble of your ‘non-existence’. But unlike Damian who launches a full investigation, Tim has a one track mind.

He results to surveillance.

Dude has no care whatsoever about your privacy. He watches you wherever you go.

You know this, and are kinda bummed that you have to pretend to pee and do other human things. But since you’re immortal and well- know everything- you don’t have a sense of privacy + don’t react like a normal person.

Instead you pay him back by bullying him on his perversions

Like when he jerked off to you changing clothes

Or his secret collage of you which definitely contained photos of you being naked.

People are kind of offput by how Tim is obsessed over you, but are just completely baffled by how you reacted.

Like instead of going to the police or something you breach his privacy back instead and expose him. You don’t even seem perturbed just annoyed too.

In any case all this, including Damian’s investigation leads to you confessing the truth, and telling them that you were there to be a guide and whatnot.

Of course, everyone but Tim are a bit skeptical. But ever since you began helping them in vigilantism and showing just how much you knew and helped them they eased up.

Bruce has a little resentment since you weren’t there when his parents were killed. But gets over it once he found out how you’ve been tirelessly repenting

By stalking them

But I mean at least you tried

The rest I’ll cover more in the other ask that also requested Venti! Reader. Hopefully I’ll get to that soon.

EXTRA: Damian definitely witnessed your exchange with Tim and was jealous that you were giving his predecessor attention.

So he bullied him with you.

[rene-darling]

WHEN- you leave them without release

...as it says, something comes up and you leave them rock hard...

Tighnari...xiao...gorou...ayato

Tighnari

You've stuffed an aphrodisiac mushroom in his mouth with has left him a drooling mess you fucked deep into him as he clawed your back while arching his own

Suddenly your akasha terminal let out a noise and you heard a message from your boss, it was something along the lines of not coming now or you'll be in big trouble

You roughened your pace as tighnari bit onto your shoulder drawing out blood, he soon came for the first time but as soon as you finished you rushed to go grab your things you mumbled about being back soon and quickly left

In his state tighnari couldn't quite understand your words, but soon, as his mind cleared a little he realized that you had just up and left! Leaving him still hot and bothered by the aphrodisiac!! He's about to run after you but the effects of the aphrodisiac are too strong and he falls flat on his ass

Be prepared for the lecture of your life because when you come back he's gonna give you an ear full! "ah- hey babe-" the glare he gives you shuts you right up now you're not afraid of many things- except when you're faced with a cock hungry tighnari

After he's done giving you an earful he makes you fuck him while he just lays on his back not moving a muscle!! But hey you owe him for leaving him like that!

Overstimulate him till he's crying "aw, baby why are you crying didn't you want this?"

Ayato

You don't get much time with ayato since he's always busy with work and stuff so when you finally do see each other you're both exhausted by the day and just fall asleep

But he was determined to push away the exhaustion to get some private time with you he was enjoying himself blindfolded and tied to the bed it had been a while since both of you had done something like this, it was good stress relief

The ropes weren't too tight yet if he really wanted to he could break them but he didn't he was your good boy after all

Suddenly a low knock was on the door you mumbled something like "one sec" and went ayato knew you would be back soon- and that you wouldn't let anyone into the room either, his delicate body is for your eyes to see and no one else's

But um... you're still not here.. it's been a couple of minutes but you're still not back, he's started to grow worried especially since he's rock hard with no clothing on and he's tied to the headboard of the bed

With minimal struggle, he's able to get himself out of his tied-up position, then he removes his blindfold ayato looks down and- he's still hard... Where the fuck are you

He puts on a silk robe to hide the obvious hard on and leaves his room in search of you roaming the halls he comes across thoma and decides to ask him about your whereabouts

"thoma, have you seen y/n by chance?" "ah my lord, yes, the people from fontain that we're supposed to arrive next week arrived earlier since they wanted to get lady ayaka's dress ready as soon as possible, my lady rushed to go and greet them since it would be disrespectful not to."

Archons, he can't believe this. This is the reason you left him in such a sorry state? God. You're such a workaholic

Be prepared to be ignored the rest of the day, when you come back he's laying down on the bed with his back to you you try shaking him and asking if he wants to continue but...no response 'maybe he's asleep...' leaving him alone you got in the bed and went to sleep

The next morning no matter how many times you tried talking to him he kept looking the other way, the next day he started making snide remarks whenever you tried spending time with him

' alright that's it tonight I'll make it up to him!" you made sure to shower and wear ayato's favorite fragrance he was giving you the cold shoulder- again he was pretending to have fallen asleep on his work table

You weren't going to be defeated this easily though so you grabbed him by the waist and lifted him up princess style, his eyes shot wide open "w-wha-... What are you doing y/n put me down!! What if someone sees" " I don't give a fuck if someone sees tonight is all about me and you." you exclaimed as you gently laid him on the bed "i-..um- a-alright...just, be gentle okay.." "alright"

You did not stay true to your word for long

Gorou

Poor poor gorou's heat is here but luckily you're here too!! And as his lover, it's your duty to fuck him through these rough times, is what he thinks

So as soon as you get home he's immediately clinging to you, his ears twitching and tail wagging as he desperately drags you too the bed

You were very amused with his desperation and how could you say no to his puppy face!

Things were getting steamy- fast as you were leaving apparent hickies on his exposed stomach while he moaned in euphoria

Soon a knock came from the door and before you could speak up a soldier spoke from the other side informing you that kokomi was urgently calling for you

Since this was something to do with the war you couldn't just not go so you told him you'll be there and got off gorou, who immediately noticed the weight of you leaving, but he was expecting you to go get some toys or lube or whatever so he didn't question you

You just assumed that gorou heard the soldier he didn't. And went rushing out of the tent to kokomi

A minute passed. Two. Then three, four, five, and soon it had been ten minutes since you left and gorou was left wondering, ' Where the heck are you??' he's left panting cuz his heat sure as hell isn't gone

He doesn't even try to make himself presentable and just goes out and to the nearest guard he sees "general gorou!...um are you okay you look a li-" "Where. Is. Y/n" "O-oh um- uh hah um- last I heard the divine priestess called for her-" Before he could even finish gorou stormed off leaving the poor guard in shambles

"So back to the topic at hand y/n-" Before Kokomo could even process her sentence the doors slammed open with a very annoyed-looking gorou "wha- gorou, babe why are-" " I get if you weren't in the mood but you could have at least got me my heat pills!!!" gorou was pissed.

"um- ill leave you guys to settle this lovers quarrel" Kokomo quickly rushed everyone and herself out since she did not want to be a third wheel

Safe to say it was good that she left since otherwise she would have witnessed gorou breaking his back while he stabbed his nails into your back making you bleed

You've advised gorou to cut his nails cuz for damn you were fricking bleeding with the scratches he left you! ...At least if someone saw that they knew you fucked good?

Xiao

It takes a lot of build up to get Xiao in the mood but it's always worth it, seeing his back arch while he claws at your back in ecstasy truly a sight to behold

You were on the couch xiao in your lap while you made out your hands were on his hips while his we're around your neck suddenly a knock came on the door and you both parted your lips and he panted in your lap "go sit on the bed xiao ill be back" you said quickly giving him one last kiss he shyly nodded while getting of your lap

You opened the door and it was the inn over verr "Did we make too much noise?" you asked getting straight to the point- or so you thought "wha- no why would there be noise- anyways a letter has come from the jade chamber saying there's been an emergency and you are needed"

"..fuck- um alright thanks verr" She left soon after wondering what 'noise' you were talking about

You quickly fixed yourself in the nearest mirror and yelled out to Xiao "Xiao! Somethings come up let's continue this after I come back" you yelled and then you rushed out the door assuming Xiao heard you...he didn't

Xiao waited and waited wondering what was taking you so long?? He stayed in the room for close to half an hour because he wanted to be your good boy but he just couldn't wait any longer so he looked his head out the door and saw...no one

After Xiao explores the entire house and doesn't find you he gets really embarrassed and teleports away he thinks he's done something wrong and you're mad at him!

When you finally do come back you see the whole house is empty with no Xiao insight

You call his name a few times to no answer it's when your voice starts to become panicked and desperate does he finally show up

"Xiao! Thank God I was worried- wait..have you been crying my love...?" you said noticing the red under his eyes as well as the wetness

"n-no.." he says in a broken tone which makes your heart shatter

You question him, to find out why and he finally spills telling you how it's because you left him! And he thinks he did something wrong! "aw..my darling you didn't do anything wrong something came up, that's why I left.." you kissed away any tears that threatened to spill from his pretty lashes "y-you mean..that...?" he asks you in such a gentle tone

"ya...come ill just show you how much a I mean that.." you grabbed his waist and pulled him into the bedroom

Next morning it's xiaos turn to be mad at you! You guys got a noise complaint from verr

"it's not like I was the one making noise.." he throws a pillow at you while you laugh at him "aw xiao you've gone all red..wanna go another rou-" y/n was never heard from again :)

[aothotties]

Telling Choso you want a baby

Word count: 1635

Warnings: MDNI, best friend!Choso, fluff, smut, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of kids, swearing, riding, overstimulation, creampie, the ending is so cute to me.

~~~~~~

You and your best friend are currently lying in his bed while watching random videos as they come and go. You stumble upon a video of a mom showing flashbacks of her body during pregnancy and you can’t help but pout.

“What's wrong?” He mumbles and yawns for a few seconds, followed by a stretch after he throws his phone to the side.

“It’s nothing, I’m just being a sap.” You show him the video on your phone and he shrugs in return.

“Yeah, cute kid I guess. Mom’s got a nice body though.” He rests his chin on your shoulder and you roll your eyes.

“Of course, that’s all you notice, you’re such a man.” You scroll to another video and double tap the screen.

He shakes his head at your reaction and takes the phone from your hand so he can scroll through your feed himself.

“So you’re on some baby kick, huh?” You shrug in return and pull your legs up to your chest.

“I don’t know maybe, I think I want a baby, Cho.” You confess and he nearly drops the phone on his face at the confession.

“Where in the hell did that come from?” He sits up in bed and gives you his full attention.

You shy away from the question and cover your face with your hands in embarrassment. Choso finds it adorable at how flustered you become over the simple question.

“I’m not sure, I’ve wanted a baby for a while now. You know I’ve always wanted to be a mother. I just could never find the right guy to settle down with.” You explain to him and he listens to every word you say.

“I’ll have a baby with you.” He says nonchalantly and you look at him as if you’ve seen a ghost.

“Excuse me?! Cho, are you high or something?” You scan over his face for a sign of his words being a joke, but there isn’t one.

“Well for starters, I’m typically always high, you know that. And yeah, why not? You want a baby, I don’t hate the thought of having kids either. You don’t think we’d make cute babies? He pretends to be offended and you slap his shoulder.

You don’t hate the idea of having a baby with him. No, you guys aren’t together, but you’ve been friends for more than 10 years. You two have had sex in the past, so it’s not like you haven’t seen each other naked. And you won’t deny the fact that he is quite handsome.

“If you’re as serious about this as you seem…then I guess we can have a baby together.” You give him your final answer and he gives you a gentle smile.

“But if we’re going to do this then we have a bunch of things to figure out first. Are we gonna live together and-“ Your sentence is cut off by the feeling of soft lips against your own.

He pulls you into his lap quickly and reaches for the buttons on your shirt, quickly trying to pull it off. He slides his tongue in your mouth and you happily invite him in.

Your shirt is thrown to the corner of the room and your leggings soon follow after.

“You wanna make a baby, don’t you? You can’t talk and make a baby. Well, you shouldn’t be able to at least.”

And boy was he right, Choso currently has you riding his sensitive cock after god knows how long. Your thighs shake in sensitivity and you let out another whimper as he bottoms out inside of you.

“C-Cho, my legs are burning.” You pout and huff as you struggle to continue bouncing on top of him.

Choso ignores your cries for help and hisses as another orgasm is ripped from his body and he stuffs your poor cunt with more of his cum. You throw your head back at the feeling of him fucking it back inside of you.

“ ‘m sorry mama, j-just wanna make sure you get all of it. Let me help you baby.” He sits up against the headboard and takes hold of your hips.

“Fuck!” You scream and grab the headboard when his hips piston upwards and his angry red tip fucks into your sweet spot.

“Shit, shit! Feels so good, so tight and warm.” Choso’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the feeling of your wet, gummy walls bringing him to the brink yet again.

“C-coming! I’m gonna come, Cho!” He holds your hips in place and continues his assault on your poor g-spot.

You can’t control your orgasm and how quickly it hits you. You dig your nails into the skin of his shoulder as your left shaking from overstimulation.

The man below you watches in awe as your body convulses on top of his exhausted one. At this moment, Choso has never seen you look more beautiful.

Your thick lips are red and messy from all the kissing and drooling, his eyes trail down your body, and the way your breasts move up and down with each bounce. His eyes land on where you’re both connected and he can’t help but rub your neglected clit with his thumb.

You shake your head and attempt to swat his hand away, quickly losing that battle when he pulls you down for another messy kiss. You whimper against his lips when he flips both of you over.

He lifts your legs and rests your calves on his shoulder. He slides back into you at a teasingly slow pace and you grip the sheets in pleasure. The dark-haired man lets out a moan at the way your walls continuously suck him in each time.

He plants a small kiss on your ankle before his hips go from slow and steady to hard and fast.

“Oh shit!” You gasp as you grip the sheets, pleasure courses through your body at the feeling of the new angle.

The sound of skin slapping can be heard throughout the room and probably through the walls if you listen close enough.

“I’m so close baby, so fucking close.” He warns, his hips begin to lose their rhythm as his climax builds within him.

“C-cum inside me Cho. I want it so bad please!” You beg, tears build up in your eyes as another orgasm pools in your lower belly.

“Y-yeah baby? Want me to fill you up real good?” He leans down so his forehead is only inches from yours and you nod shyly.

He smirks at your lack of words and presses his lips to yours one last time before overfiowing your insides with his warm speed. You moan into his mouth and drag your nails down his arms in ecstasy as you come one last time.

Your body finally relaxes after one last thrust of his hips.

“You okay princess?” He runs his fingers through his raven locks and you nod with your eyes closed, the need for sleep is growing stronger by the second.

“Thank you for doing this with me, there’s truly nobody else I think I would want a baby with.” You confess, he takes your hand in his and kisses over your knuckles.

“Don’t worry about it, anything I can do to make my best friend a happy lady.”

~~~

“Oh, Dad that’s so cheesy.” Your eight year old daughter rolls her eyes at the story and he shrugs his shoulders.

“It’s what happened! Your mom and I were best friends, she wanted a baby and the stork delivered!You asked me to tell you the story of how you guys were born, and I did.” He huffs and pulls the young girl in his lap, planting small kisses all over her face.

“Dad! Please no more.” She laughs as he continues his assault of kisses on her face.

The sound of tiny feet and screaming can be heard from down the hall, Choso and his mini-me follow the noise and he has to refrain from laughing at the sight.

You’re attempting to put your boys to bed with a bedtime story, but not without acting out the details of course.

“I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house down!” You blow raspberries over their little faces and they break out into a fit of giggles.

“Mommy does a good wolf, right guys?” Your boys nod simultaneously and you smile up at your fiancé.

“Did you know it’s actually because she is one? Why do you think she’s so hairy?” He teases and you hit his shoulder playfully.

“Haha papa, so funny.” He helps you up to your feet and plants a kiss on your lips.

Your three munchkins groan in disgust and you and Choso can’t help but laugh.

“Alright guys it’s time for bed, we’ve got a busy week coming up!” You announce, you tuck the boys in bed and kiss their foreheads.

“Goodnight Mama, goodnight Papa, goodnight Junior!”

Junior is the nickname for your oldest daughter since she’s a carbon copy of her father. The only thing she got from you is her pretty brown skin and her tight coils.

“Goodnight boys, I love you, mama and Papa.” She hugs you both simultaneously and you lean down so she can kiss your faces.

“Goodnight pretty girl, sweet dreams.” You watch as she closes her bedroom door, and cheer quietly at another successful night.

“We’re such awesome parents Cho.” He wraps an arm around your shoulder and cups your cheeks as he kisses you.

“Yeah, we kinda know what we’re doing I guess.” He smiles down at you and pulls you in by your waist.

“And to think we were gonna stop with Junior. How crazy would that have been?” You ask as you reminisce.

Once you learned about your pregnancy, you two decided that it was just going to be a one-and-done situation. Then Choso realized that not only are you an amazing mother, but that you’re an even better significant other.

He proposed to you on the night of her first birthday, and nine months later your boys arrived. He truly wouldn’t want his life to go any other way, he has everything he’s ever wanted and more.

Ari

[nyoomfruits]

osctober day twenty five

prompt: magic pairing: lando/oscar word count: 900w

Oscar’s got his magic pretty much under control now that he’s older. There were a few incidents, when he was a kid, that time he accidentally floated all the furniture in the classroom because he was so happy he got an A+ on a test, that time he made it rain inside for a whole day because his pet rabbit died. But it’s all good now. No more weird incidents. No more letting his emotions control his magic.

Until Lando Norris walks into the break room at work and Oscar’s magic promptly sets the microwave on fire.

“Uh,” Lando Norris says. “Is that normal?”

“No,” Oscar grits out through clenched teeth, desperately petting at the microwave with a tea towel to make it stop doing the fire thing. It’s magical fire, though, so it doesn’t really care much about the laws of nature. Or about embarrassing Oscar in front of his crush.

Lando started working for their Design department roughly eight months ago, right around the time Oscar and Lily had finally called it quits after months and months of pretending everything was still fine between them.

And so Oscar hadn’t paid attention much, at first. Too wrapped up in his own life problems. But then the pain of the break up faded into a dull ache and suddenly Lando was there, with his cute smile and his mesmerizing eyes and his half unbuttoned shirts and Oscar had fallen hook, line, sinker.

Which was fine. Not a problem at all. Oscar had crushes before. It’s fine.

But then his magic gets involved. And that’s when shit starts hitting the fan.

“Okay, no, fuck this,” Alex says, diving under his desk, as all the pens in the office fly up into the sky and start spelling out terms of endearment above Lando and Oscar’s head.

“Ah,” Oscar says.

“Uh,” Lando says, staring up, squinting to read what’s being spelled. “Honey cakes?”

Oscar frantically tries to get his heart rate back to a normal level. All Lando had done was ask him to borrow a pen, and then their hands had brushed when Oscar handed one to him. And now this.

“Sugarplum,” Lando says. “Well, at least they’re creative. Does this happen often?”

“NEVER,” Alex hollers from under the desk, just as Oscar says, “Oh, all the time. Average accounting bullshit, you know how it is.”

“Hm,” Lando says. “Cool. Maybe I should switch departments.”

“DON’T YOU DARE” Alex hollers. “It’s pretty boring, all things considered,” Oscar says.

“I mean, yeah, but you’re here, right? So can’t be that boring,” Lando says.

The pens explode in a cloud of rainbow colored heart shaped confetti. Alex’s scream can be heard three floors down.

--

“Hey,” Lando says, a few days later. “I think we should talk.”

Oscar winces. “Is this about the fridge?”

Lando raises an eyebrow. “No? What’s wrong with the fridge?”

The fridge is currently full of all of Lando’s favorite snacks. Every time someone puts their lunchbox in it just turns into a pouch of capri sun. They have yet to figure out a way to fix it. “Nothing, the fridge is fine.”

“Oookay,” Lando says, sitting down on Oscar’s desk. Behind him, a stack of quarterly reports Oscar had printed out earlier start folding themselves into heart shapes. “Anyway, not why I was here. I actually, uh. Wanted to ask you something?” He fidgets with his hands.

Oscar steels himself. This has to be about the magic thing. Lando’s had enough of all the insanity, wants him to stop. Wants him to never talk to him again. Oscar wonders if it would be expensive to move to Iceland. Or maybe he can just find a really big forest somewhere. Those exists, right? No one would ever have to see him again.

“Do you… Would you want to go out with me?” Lando asks, looking up genuinely nervous.

“What.” Oscar says. Behind Lando, the swarm of origami hearts freezes midair.

“Like, on a date?” He fidgets with his hands. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to! It’s just I would really like to and everyone keeps telling me to go for it, that it’s like, obvious or whatever, but. I don’t know. If you don’t want to. I know you just got out of a serious relationship and such.”

“That was months ago,” Oscar says. “I mean, Lily and me. That’s. That’s actually so not the point right now, I’m. You want to? Go on a date? With me?”

Lando smiles, even though it’s a little brittle, a little unsure. “I would, yeah.”

“Oh,” Oscar says, and then promptly leans forward to kiss Lando on the mouth.

It’s a bit inappropriate, maybe, but it’s not like there’s anyone actually currently in the office. It’s late, most of the lights are turned off, so it’s just Lando and Oscar and the hundreds of paper origami hearts that flutter around them like little butterflies as Oscar kisses Lando like a starving man.

And Lando responds in earnest, kisses him back just as urgently, like he’s been waiting for this moment, too. When they pull away, Oscar leans his forehead against Lando’s, lets out a disbelieving laugh. “I would love to go on a date with you.”

“Mint,” Lando says, beaming at him. And then, because he’s a little shit. “My sugarplum.”