#p&h: kinktober 2024

[lavenderovercast]

HUNKING HERO collab with @honeyandberryjuice

summary: you & toshinori get freaky in your office! relationships: yagi toshinori x female!reader warnings: 18+ content under the cut, !! MINORS DNI !! note: me & @honeyandberryjuice decided to work on our own custom kinktober list for this year, so here's a written collab between the two of us! enjoy it you filthy animals <33 tags: blow jobs, (light) praise kink, size kink, office sex, semi-public sex, dick transformation (just gets bigger cuz. u know. all might ), all might AND small might, two for the price of one!, porn w/ out plot, implied aftercare 🌺 prefer to read on ao3? check out the series! 🌺

“Oh my goodness,” Toshinori panted, his large hands gripping into the leather seat beneath him. The blonde man’s neck was perspired with sweat, his breath and skin hot. The groan that came from his throat was visceral, almost like he was in pain, though he couldn’t be further from it. “You’re… taking all of me so well.” The man managed to gasp out, muscles visibly straining in his arms. The sight drives you absolutely crazy.

 All you can reply with is a deep and satisfied hum, what with your mouth being otherwise busy. Toshinori’s cock was enveloped deeply in your throat, the warmth of it fulfilling your need for the man. The hum you’d given in response seems to send ripples through him, as you feel him jerk in your mouth. You can’t help but feel smug about it.

 You have one hand gripped around his sinewy thigh, and the other one reaches towards his groin to cup his balls. As you begin to massage them gently, a strangled cry erupts from Toshinori and a clammy hand slaps down onto where yours was on his thigh and squeezes. His words are a garbled mess, but you manage to make out, “Jeez, I’m gonna cum. Let’s…” The man pauses to take another gulp of air before continuing, “I wanna try something.”

 Curiousity positively piqued, you remove him from your mouth. Your jaw had begun to ache from taking the size of him anyway, and you’d never been able to say no to him. You quietly hum again as you move, slowly pushing yourself up and off of your knees, resting your hands on the top of the blonde’s thighs. Toshinori’s breath hitched at the contact, and the man finds it increasingly difficult to regain his composure. 

 His dilemma only worsens when you lean your head closer to his, a sweet smile on the same lips that were just wrapped around his aching dick. The man could just about faint when your lips brush against his cheek, warm and soft as they press onto his skin before you speak to him so warmly. “What do you have in mind, Toshi?” 

 Toshinori fights a groan, hands shifting back to the leather seat underneath him. With a squeeze, he furrowed his eyebrows before letting his palms rest on your hips. A surprised noise escapes his you as he lifts you with ease, gently maneuvering you so your sitting on the desk in front of the two of you now. Your hands move to rest on the tops of his own, causing Toshinori to dig his teeth into his lip as he peers up at you. 

 In his eyes, you’re beautiful— a true marvel of the world. Your hair falls around your face and shoulders in a perfect curve, and there’s the sweetest, most trusting smile on your face as you gaze down at him so lovingly. The blonde doesn’t understand how he got so lucky, but he’s grateful for it anyways as he moves to slot himself between your legs. 

 “What do… You think about trying something different?” Toshinori rumbles, ducking his head down to leave loving kisses across your susceptible skin. His teeth grazes your neck, making you sigh and lean into the man with an approving hum. 

 “Depends on your definition of different.” You tease, rubbing your thumbs soothingly against his skin. You’re already fucking the man in an office, so you’re certain that nothing he can propose will be too bold for you to try. 

 The kisses he had been peppering on your complexion began to travel down your body, and you let out a small giggle as his lips tickled your sensitive skin. Your hands instinctively reached up to grab at his dishevelled blonde hair, pulling gently, which caused a low groan to escape the man. You bite her lip at the sound, positively enthralled that you could cause such deliciousness to come from him without even doing much. It seemed to take everything in him to find the focus to reply, “It’ll be better if I just show you. Let me know if, at any point, you don’t like it, ‘kay?”

 The small nod from you was all he needed as he sits back down into the office chair while pulling you down with him. Your soft, warm, naked skin on his caused tingles to travel up his spine, his hands reaching around you to support your back as you settled comfortably on his lap. With ease, he lifts your body up to line himself up with you and slowly enter you, a rumbling groan and a breathy gasp escaping each of you respectfully. 

 He takes a moment to let you adjust, and you dig your nails into his shoulders, making him grit his teeth. Toshinori would describe himself as a gentle lover, but the things you did to him made him want to break furniture and throw you around like a ragdoll, but he was a gentleman and would control himself— Even if every passing second with you only made that challenge all the more difficult. “You okay?” He asked, voice soft.

 “Always,” You respond, though your voice sounds strained. You look at him through your eyelashes, already knowing where his thoughts were venturing. “Please don’t stop. I just forget how much of you there is every time.” There’s amusement in your tone, and your face is wonderfully flush with arousal.

 If Toshinori was a different man, he would’ve been completely self-satisfied about the reactions he got out of you. It was hard not to be, when you have your fingers dug into his shoulders as he slowly rocks his hips forward. A pleased sound leaves you as you tild your head forward to rest your forehead against his shoulder with a shaky exhale. Desperately, you want to be close to him. Desperately, you want more of him, all of him. 

 Instead of taking further pride in himself for having such an independent woman damn near weak in the knees for him, Toshinori rests his lips gently against the top of your head. The smell of your shampoo invades his senses as he pushes forward. He’s slow and careful for you, attentive as always as he allows you to adjust to his length. 

 Another pleased sound erupts from you, this time in the form of a breathy sigh as his hips become flush against your own. A soft pant leaves you, and you left your head up to capture Toshinori’s lips in a kiss. His fingers press gently against your hips as he begins to move against you. The pleased, muffled sounds that leave his lover as he moves make him groan quietly, his own need increasingly growing. 

 The hands on your hips grips you harder, and he lifted you again to slide you up the length of him before pulling you roughly back down to take him fully. A surprised moan burst from you, telling him that you enjoyed the act very much, so he did it again. And again. Over and over, he lifted you up and down, before hitching his hands under your thighs to keep you in place and pounding up into you until your eyes began to roll back in your head. 

 You were lucky nobody was in the building anymore, or it would’ve been very obvious what you were doing, closed blinds or not. 

 A strained groan came from him as he felt the familiar sensation of release building up in him, and he knew now would be the time to enact what he slyly hinted at earlier. As your cries turned ecstatic, and your pulling of his hair felt like you were going to rip it from his scalp in a heavenly wave of pain and pleasure, he allowed another well-known electricity to assemble within him. The remnants of One For All pumped through his veins, filling his muscles and bulking his frame like it had again and again over the years.

 He didn’t think he would ever get sick of the feeling, and it didn’t matter that it only lasted for a few seconds now. Toshinori always felt so powerful when the quirk gave him new form.

 As his body doubled, tripled in size, your already smaller frame seemed to shrink on top of him. His large arms and legs seemed impossibly big next to you, and it was with your very sudden, sharp intake of breath that he knew you felt him bulk elsewhere too. “Oh my G— Fuck!”  Your voice squeaked as his cock stretched you out, and you felt more of him than you ever had before.

 He’s about to ask you if you’re okay again, to know if this was way too much or painful at all, but he’s silenced by you clamping your hand harshly over his mouth as you begin to bounce on top of him. Your moans are so tinged with desperation now that he can’t concentrate on anything else, and his even larger hands cup you tightly on the ass as he watches you taking every wide inch of him.

 “Toshi— Fuck, All Might!” His hero name being called from your pretty mouth undoes him. He didn’t think he was vain enough that something like that would turn him on so much, but the surprise doesn’t affect much as he realises his climax is imminent.

 He throws his head back and moans loudly as he empties himself inside of you, the cum overfilling you and dripping down the inside of your legs onto the top of his thighs. The man pants as he takes a moment to recover, his hands falling limp against you, who in turn practically drops onto him. Toshinori can feel your chest pressed against his own, your head buried into the crook of his neck. 

 The blonde can feel his body returning to his regular form, but he doesn’t pay it much mind as he lifts a shaky hand that he runs through your hair soothingly. He’s quiet for a moment before tilting his head back to you, lips pressing against the top of your head like they had earlier before. He can hear a breathy chuckle come from your mouth, and you peer up at him with affection written all over your features. 

 “Are… You alright? Was that…” He’s not able to finish his sentence as you lift a hand and gently nudge his shoulder, your eyes narrowed playfully on his face. He can feel his features warm as you hum. 

 “That was perfect, Toshi,” You murmur, nuzzling your head into the man’s chest with a contented little smile on your face. Toshinori can’t help but smile too, moving his hands to rest them on your arms, rubbing soothing patterns into the exposed skin. “...Should clean up, though. My office is going to smell terrible.” 

 “Mmm,” The blonde grunts in agreement, nodding a little. “Just let me hold you a little longer.”

[honeyandberryjuice]

Grinding Gears

collab with @lavenderovercast

summary: when 30 years go by with your husband in another dimension, it's only natural that you both encounter some physical and emotional barriers. luckily for you, you're able to begin squashing the physical ones rather quickly... relationship(s): stanford pines/reader word count: 2,330 warning(s): 18+, MINORS DNI

author's note: give it up for day 2 of our kinktober challenge!!! what do you mean it's the 10th/11th? we weren't procrastinating, the calendar was. by being several days ahead of us. another collab between me & @lavenderovercast!! hope you guys enjoy <333 tags: light sub!ford pines; this man is soft for one woman and one woman only, light dom!reader, thigh riding, plotless porn ftw, thirty years of feelings involved lmao, fluff, smut, pet names, chair sex, grinding, dirty talk; but make it really nerdy and needy, horrible biology joke :)

🍯 prefer to read on ao3? 🍯

 Ford doesn’t know how long he’s been down in his lab with his research, but he does know that when he hears the familiar creak of the elevator coming down that it’s probably been too long. You’ve been a good wife, a dutiful wife— it’s only natural that you would come down to check on him. And it was only natural that Ford would try to protest your presence, tilting his head over his shoulder as you approached him with a frown on your pretty face.

 “I’m sorry, my dear. I’ll head to bed soon.” You both know that his words are a lie, even if he doesn’t mean them to be. Because Ford’s work means everything to him, it also means that there’s no rest for the wicked. With the wicked in this case being a sleep-deprived scientist. That fact doesn’t stop him from turning his chair to face you, outstretching his arms to pull you closer for a gentle peck on the lips— it’s his form of an apology, it’s his way of trying to earn forgiveness for neglecting his sleep. “Don’t wait on me, please. You look tired.”

 He’s exhausted, but he knows that he needs to piece the rest of this project together. It will gnaw at him and leave him restless if he leaves it alone. You smile knowingly as your husband’s hands brush against your skin, warm and calloused as his thumbs rub circles against your wrists as he gently pulls you closer. Your form happily leans into the man, a mischievous thought forming in your head. If he won’t come to bed with the temptation of your presence alone, why not provide further incentive?

 “And you look stressed,” You hum, your hands gliding across his skin to settle onto his shoulders. You lean in closer, your familiar floral scent mixed with baking that always smelled so divine to Ford enveloping him. His head falls into your body and he breathes you in deeply, the man’s hands cupping your back to pull you in closer. He was always so busy tinkering or researching, as he always had done. It was hard to break habits that he’d kept up for almost forty years, but being reunited with his wife made him remember just how many physical sensations he’d let himself forget.

 The perfume that clings to your clothes make his head feel dizzy, and his fingers grip into your soft cardigan wrapping around your frame. He feels a little pathetic as he realises that something as little as just your presence causes arousal to fill him. Ford had missed his wife so dearly, and while the emotional side of things had been difficult to confront and talk about, he knew the two of you had managed to rediscover your comfort around each other… Though the intimacy side of things was a little more strained, and while you both definitely felt the absence of one another, it was hard to just pick up where you left off after thirty years.

 With a sigh, Ford lifts his head to look up at you, eyes slightly pleading. Your breath hitches in your throat as you notice that he wants you just as much as you want him. Your hands move from his shoulders up to his neck, before gently cupping his face and leaning in for a feather-light kiss. The motion was shy, because you felt shy; you had spent most of your life believing you knew this man intricately, but so many decades apart had made you foreign to each other. You knew that you had to make the first move, to know him again.

 As you both separate after the peck, your breaths mingle in the small space between you. You can see a shy smile tugging at the man’s lips as he peers up at you, his brown eyes warm with affection. The sight is enough to make you smile back, your heart warming in your chest as he leans forward. Ford feels a little bolder, if only for a moment, pressing his lips gently against yours.

 It’s longer and deeper than the small kiss that you had just shared. His lips are rough against yours, but you find yourself enjoying the sensation as your fingertips move up, gently digging into the man’s hair. A pleased groan rumbles from his chest, a sound that is muffled but still makes his face flush with embarrassment as his tongue carefully slips past your lips.

 It’s been years since he’s been physical with anyone, of course the action will feel clumsy and awkward— of course his heart is going to thunder in his chest the way that it is now. It doesn’t make him any less embarrassed by how weak in the knees you make him now, though. These facts also don’t let him embrace his desperation with grace, nor do they let him embrace the way that his fingers rub against the fabric of your cardigan and move down without a little bit of shame.

 Not because of you, of course, but because of himself. He doesn’t want to be selfish and needy, but it’s exactly what he is now as his hands trail from your sides to the backs of your legs, silent encouragement for you to rest yourself on his lap. You happily comply, straddling one of his legs as he pulls away from your intoxicating lips for air, only just noticing the burn in his lungs.

 “I missed you.” He mumbles, his voice sincere as he navigates his hands away from the backs of your legs, closer to the hem of your skirt. Ford just wants to take care of you, maybe in his own selfish way, in an attempt to ignore his want. You deserve better than what he wants to provide now. It’s only natural that his hands wander the hem of your skirt, eager to pull down the fabric until your delicate hand wraps around his wrist.

 Your face is flushed red, and the sight of this makes his insides turn to jelly. Your hair, which had been pulled back into a slick bun, had begun to unwind with bits of loose hair falling around the side of your face. Ford always believed you looked beautiful, but there was something radiant about you right now— The usually hard shell of a woman who always strived to remain professional and predominantly focused on your work coming undone made him feel very hot under the collar. Your work ethic is what had made him fall for you, after all.

 His admiration of you flew from his mind as your grip on his wrist grew tighter, the desire on your face evident. The man wanted so badly to please you, and he felt a thrill travel up his spine and groin as you took his hand and pulled it under your skirt, pressing it against your panties.

 Ford could feel your want soaking through them.

 “You’re… You’re so…” His throat felt tight, his skin burning with both need and bashfulness.

 “Wet?” You finished for him, a sly smile plastering your face. “That’s just simple biology not letting me keep any secrets about how much I want you.”

 Oh God, he loved you so much. Ford needs you closer, to kiss your glorious lips and show you how much he wanted you, too. This time wasn’t about him and he would make it his mission to do anything you wanted. His hand rubs along your labia, before pausing to swirl around your swollen clit.

 You gasp loudly, jerking forward and clamping your fingers tightly onto his shoulders. Ford glances up at you through long, dark eyelashes, one side of his mouth quirked up into a little smirk. You had always found that look so infuriating when the two of you had been academic rivals, though now it shot fluttery shockwaves through your body like little electric butterflies.

 A whimper escapes you as you pull yourself closer towards him, the warmth from your drenched panties and body seeping into him. Your breasts pressing against his chest make him lightheaded, despite the fact you were still fully clothed. God, he really needed to get laid.

 He almost feels lamentable, like he’s some teenage virgin in his first relationship. It’s almost like he’s about to melt into the damn chair he’s sitting on now, with the way you pull yourself to him, your fingers digging harshly into the sleeves of his sweater, grasping onto his shoulders as though he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. Your reactions are encouragement that push past his nerves, allowing him to focus on the task at hand: getting his wife to cum so damn hard that you would see stars.

 His fingers move methodically as he does his best to recall the way that you used to like him touching you; each former whisper of praise and gratitude that slipped your lips all those years ago came back into his mind like muscle memory, encouraging him to continue rubbing your clit in fast little circles. Ford can’t help but think that he could die happy, with you writhing in his lap when you give a breathy gasp, leaning your head into the crook of the man’s neck before bucking your hips into his moving hand.

 “Sweet Moses, you’re divine,” He breathes out softly to you, the praise instinctively slipping from his lips. And then he’s leaning his own head so he can rest it against your shoulder. The sweet smell of vanilla invades his senses in a way that makes his head swim. He can’t see it, but you’re grinning as you rock your hips against his fingers, a slow and deliberate action that earns a soft groan from the man. “You’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart.”

 You giggle at that, the sound of a torturous melody that he wanted to hear forever. Ford isn’t given long to relish in the sound, however, because you continue to rock your hips, beginning to build up a steady pace. He can feel your legs clench around his own, your grip on him tight as you grind your hips on his leg and fingers. It’s filthy, and he craves more of it. He wants to see you come undone, he wants to make you scream with delight.

 So he keeps up his rhythm, not minding the tightness beginning to fill his slacks as he lifts his head to cup your cheek with his free hand. Tilting your head so you’re facing him, Ford presses his lips against your own in another kiss. This time, he’s far less gentle. This time, he allows his yearning to show through his actions in the way that they can’t through his words. Ford revels in the way that you whimper and jerk your hips harder into his fingers and lap, the actions of your excitement only encouraging the man to playfully nip at your lip.

 Between Ford’s expert fingers moving against your clit, pressing against the bud with just enough pressure to make you want to melt in his arms and the stimulation of your pussy rubbing against his leg as you filthily grind on his thigh, you’re certain that this is the closest you’ll ever get to heaven in his arms.

 You’re eager to return the kiss, an excited noise rising from the back of your throat as Ford’s teeth graze against your bottom lip. You know that you aren’t going to last much longer on his lap, grinding your hips like this while Ford dutifully rubs your clit, not letting up with the stimulation that sends shivers across your skin.

 You can feel the pressure rising within you, deep in your pelvis as your legs begin to shake around Ford’s thigh. One hand continues to dig into his skin, your nails embedding deeply into his red sweater as your breathing becomes spasmodic and heavy, the other gripping the back of his hair as your grinding increases in fervour. Your lip is clamped between your teeth and Ford is so enraptured in watching your face, your eyes clouded with desire, that he isn’t prepared for when you come completely undone.

 Your jaw drops open and you throw your head back, a guttural groan coming from deep in your throat as you jerk your hips roughly once more and your weight falls back. Ford catches you by wrapping his arms behind your back and pulling you towards him again, another hot kiss searing your skin as he begins to plant soft smooches along your jaw plastered with praise, “You did so well, dear. So beautiful, so perfect.” The man coos, one hand raising to gently brush your cheek.

 He would curse himself for not letting your reunion happen earlier, what with everything going on with Bill’s plan and endless research, but he was so glad that this had happened the way it had. You seem to think similarly, because you smile sweetly up at him and nuzzle into his neck for a few moments before clambering off his lap.

 Your expression turns playful as you look down at his thigh, your smile sheepish. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” Ford could honestly stay in these clothes forever marred as they were, the filthy man he is, but he nods in agreement. With a quiet grunt, he begins to climb onto his feet before he feels your hands push him back into the chair, eyebrow raised. “No, no,” You grin devilishly, “Let me take those off for you.”

 Ford lifts both of his eyebrows as he peers up at you, his face growing warm at the devilish expression on your face. He can’t help but grin and nod his head at the sight. “Whatever you wish, my dearest.”

 While you both may still have some emotional awkwardness to confront in the future, you didn’t think your physical intimacy would be an issue any longer.

[florencebirdsong]

Marvel Kinktober 2024

My oneshots for Kinktober of 2024. I am a sapphic blog so these all feature marvel women. Mainly Wanda though because I’m a sucker for her.

| ao3 | navigation

Forgive me I got consumed by Agatha All Along. But I shall complete this one by one.

deep breath // Day One: Breathplay. Wanda Maximoff.

Pull, Don’t Push! // Day Two: Stuck. Kate Bishop.

One Step, Two Step // Day Three: Sex toys. Skye.

Don’t Touch. Patience // Day Four: Chastity belt. Wanda Maximoff.

Drink Up // Day Five: Lactation kink. Wanda Maximoff

Good Girl // Day Six: Praise kink. Wanda Maximoff

Gotta Get That Protein In There // Day Seven: Oviposition. Gamora

Give In // Day Eight: Breeding kink. Wandanat

Whiff // Day Nine: Sex smells. Kate Bishop

I’ll Be Whatever You Want Me To Be // Day Ten: Human furniture. Sharon Carter

Your Tears Taste Like Sunshine // Day Eleven: Dacryphilia. Wanda Maximoff

Blood Lust // Day Twelve: Menophilia. Natasha Romanoff

Eepy // Day Thirteen: Somnophilia. Wanda Maximoff

Yes, Ma’am // Day Fourteen: Collaring. Pepper Potts

Squeeze // Day Fifteen: Double penetration. Daisy Johnson. Melinda May

Sweet pea // Day Sixteen: Overstimulation. Wanda Maximoff

I’m On The Edge // Day Seventeen: Edging. Skye

Not, Not An Orc // Day Eighteen: Size Difference. Jennifer Walters

Tied // Day Nineteen: Bondage. Wanda Maximoff (& others)

Give It To Me Please // Day Twenty: Cockbulge. Natasha Romanoff

Killer Costume // Day Twenty-One: Uniform. Yelena Belova

Suck // Day Twenty-Two: Leather gloves. Yelena Belova

Miss Bitey // Day Twenty-Three: Petplay. Agatha Harkness

Routine // Day Twenty-Four: Maintenance spanking. Wanda Maximoff

Listen Closely // Day Twenty-Five: Hypnotism. Emo Wand Maximoff

The Cake Is A Lie // Day Twenty-Six: (Machine) tentacles. Nebula

I Walk And Talk Like A Machine // Day Twenty-Seven: Mind Control. Wanda Maximoff

Hold It // Day Twenty-Eight. Light piss kink. Wanda Maximoff

So Dramatic // Day Twenty-Nine. Masochism. Yelena Belova

Guiding Hand // Day Thirty. Self-cest. The Scarlet Witch. Emo Wanda

[aduh0308]

stupid fucking parents [choi beomgyu]

kinktober 2024 !! summary: if you'd never met him, this would be a lot easier. granted, if you never met him, this wouldn't be a problem in the first place. genre: smut, non!idol au, p with little to no plot warnings: stepcest,:stepbrother!beomgyu, perv!gyu, rich!gyu, he’s a year older, sub!gyu, mean dom!reader, dom!gyu, sub!reader, he uses your soap, mommy kink, mommy kink in a condescending way, praise kink, dacryphilia, voyeurism, degradation, exhibitionism, slight spit kink, big dick gyu, handjob, blowjob, titjob, readers tits are big enough to give said titjob, nipple play (on both), he’s got sensitive nipples, sending nudes, lots of smut, masturbation, fingering, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex (pull out method), creampie, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, mentions of cunnilingus, beomgyu refers to himself as ‘gyu’, reader calls him 'dumb pup', 'slut' 'whore', 'pet', 'good boy’, ‘pretty boy’, ‘gyu’, and ‘pretty’, beomgyu calls reader ‘pretty girl’, ‘baby’, ‘darling’ and ‘good girl’, mentions of anxiety and depression, he’s lowkey sleazy for 100 words (he fucks someone else), she hits him in the face once and he gets turned on by it, she sucks on his Adams apple for half a second (real), y/m/n is your moms name, and b/d/n is beomgyus dads name bc idk what im doing, take a shot every time I use the word ‘fuck’ (hint: its more than 50) word count: 7.3k 🎧 — rubberband (tate mcrae) + lovers in the night (seori) + the killa (txt)

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the holy matrimony of Ms. y/l/n and Mr. Choi."...

"Fuck, look at you, fucking me like some animal, aren't you?"

"Do you, y/m/n y/l/n, take b/d/n choi, in sickness and in health, through prosperity and through hardship..."

"Dumb pup, can only think with your dick, can't you?"

"I do."

"C-can't, feels so good, gon' cum, pl-please!"

"Do you, b/d/n choi, take y/m/n y/l/n,  in sickness and in health, through prosperity and through hardship..."

"Go ahead, cum like the whore you are..."

"I do."

"Don't make a mess of me, though, can't let everyone out there know i'm fucking my soon-to-be step brother..."

"You may now kiss the bride."

"N-not my fault, fucked you—ah! B-before they even got together..!"

You snap out of your mind's replay of the day’s prior events, eyes on the ground, even as your mom and Beomgyu's dad share their first kiss as husband and wife. You feel eyes on you and look up— it's him, of course it is. And fuck, does he look good. Suit and red tie, brown hair laying just perfectly, you can feel exactly what possessed you to ruin him this morning.

But you can't anymore.

And that's what pisses you off, because Beomgyu was yours before your parents even laid eyes on each other.

That's how they met, actually. You'd been over at his house, dad gone at work, so you two could get up to exactly what you wanted to. Laying on his couch afterwards, his dad had come home, and your mom stopped by to pick you up— she'd dropped you off on her way to work since your car was in the shop.

And it was love at first sight. You couldn't pretend like it wasn't, you saw the way they looked at each other. You just hadn't expected it to escalate to this. Walking back down the aisle together with everyone standing to clap, you can barely keep your eyes on them.

You're crying, but not in happiness. It's selfish, you know. You've seen how happy your mom is nowadays. And she deserves it. But you can't help but feel like you've lost something.

You and Beomgyu are last to leave the altar, following the other groomsmen and bridesmaids into the wedding hall for the afterparty. He tries to grab your arm, but you shake your head at him. You can't do this anymore. It's for real now.

The look on his face is pure hurt and you know it, only heading to sit next to your mother at the dinner table. Soon, you're sucked into conversation with one of her cousins, mind completely off of Beomgyu and your lack of conscience when it comes to him.

After dinner, however, it's time for the first dances of the night. Bride and groom, bride and her father, groom and his mother, and then, your mother's genius idea, a dance for the groom's son and the bride's daughter. Which you'd forgotten all about, until the mc of the night, one of Beomgyu's relatives, calls the both of you up.

You swallow when Beomgyu's hand rests itself on your waist. So gently you almost shiver, he pulls you closer until you're pressed against him in waltzing position. The music is slow, soft, but speeds up until the two of you are just spinning in circles, identical wide grins on your faces.

The song ends with him dipping you, and you come up with an elated grin. That is, until you realize your predicament. You step away from him with a soft smile but a pointed look, and he only nods. He grips your wrist in a hand. Dropping his lips to your ear, he whispers, "Leave early with me? I want to show you around the house."

Right. You'd forgotten that Beomgyu's (significantly larger) house was now yours. God, you have no idea how you’re going to be able to handle this.

You only nod, let him know you'll be ready in an hour, and join the dance floor once more with the rest of your mom's family.

The hour flies by with you teaching multiple line dances to Beomgyu's family, including Cotton Eye Joe and the Wobble, and by the time it's time to leave, you're flushed and breathless. Giggling and taking his hand, you're led to his car.

"Are you wasted?" Beomgyu laughs, helping you in before climbing into the driver's seat.

"No! Didn't drink anything but the kid's lemonade." You flinch when his hand meets your thigh out of habit. Getting the message, he lets it drop to the center console instead.

"Your things are already in your room," he tells you when he pulls into the driveway.

"And where's my room?"

"Across from mine."

You don't have to ask where his room is. You've been in it enough times in the past 3 years to have memorized exactly how many steps it takes to reach it from the front door.

"Alright, sounds good."

Beomgyu opens the front door for you and ushers you in. He opens every door for you to help you find your way around as well. You soon learn that there are 4 bathrooms, 5 bedrooms, a game room, a living room, 2 dining rooms (a formal one and an informal one), a kitchen, and too many closets to count.

When he opens the door to your bedroom, you smile at the coziness of it all. Your things have been put up in an almost identical fashion to how they were in your old room. And there was only one person in this house that knew your room well enough to be able to recreate it to this level of detail.

"Did you do this?" You whisper, turning to him with a look of incredulity.

Beomgyu nods, a small smile pulling at his lips. He flicks the hair out of his face with his pinky, a small habit you've noticed since day one. "Do you like it? I tried my best to do what I remembered, but some things might not be how you're used to..."

"I love it, Gyu, it's perfect." You flop backwards into your new bed, skirt piling around you. Beomgyu slides beside you when you pat the bed—  this might not be the best idea, but right now, you can't think of anything else you’d rather do.

He's taken off his suit jacket, left only in the vest and white shirt and tie, and he looks so good and desirable that you have to close your eyes. He's warm against you, body taut with muscle, and against your better judgment, when Beomgyu's lips meet yours, you don't resist.

He pulls you up and into his room across the hall, dragging you back down with him onto his own bed.

"Gyu, we shouldn't, you're my stepbrother now..." The word leaves you with a bad taste in your mouth, but he shakes his head with a pout.

"Please, need you..." His hands grip the hem of your dress, pulling you closer by your hips, into his lap. You're protesting the whole time, pressing kisses to his lips either way. And oh, the way his whines are so pretty when you slide his dress pants to his ankles make it all worth it.

Tugging at his dick with a scoff, you spit on it once. "What a desperate little slut, wanting to fuck me the night our parents get married, wasn't enough for you this morning, was it?"

Beomgyu shakes his head quickly, tears already beading in his eyes. "N-no, always need more, need you so bad it hurts..."

"Yeah? Gyu needs his dick wet every second of the day, doesn't he? Always such a mess."

He's nothing less than a mess now, drool leaking out the corner of his mouth, wetting the pillow beneath his head. There's a sheen of sweat glossing his face and he writhes beneath you when you squeeze the base of his dick. "P— please, 'm gonna, gon' cum if you don't stop, stop, please, wan' be able to fuck you!" he begs, gripping your wrist in a hand.

"You can't fuck me if you cum now?" He nods, little sniffles leaving his lips. "How pathetic, can't even last a few minutes, what a fucking loser."

"Please, can't— ngh— just wanna get you 'round me, please, n/n..."

His voice is low, breathless and a little choked, and you finally give in. Beomgyu's chest shakes up and down while he watches you slip your dress over your head, exposing the blue lace bra you'd put on this morning. You don't even bother taking it off, nor your underwear, simply sliding your panties to the side to rub his dick against your soaked cunt.

As soon as your dripping walls suck him in, he's a goner, head rocked back into the pillows and hips twitching up to yours pitifully. Shifting your weight down against him only once, he's got tears running down his cheeks. This isn't unusual— there's a reason you always top him. As soon as the boy gets his dick wet, he's gone, off to another planet or some shit.

"Won't you open your eyes, want you to look at me while your dick's inside me, you're not that much of a whore that you can't keep your eyes open, are you?" you hiss, grabbing his chin in your hand.

Beomgyu nods with a weak look, eyes trained on your tits, and he's pulling the lace down with his fingertips. You grip his chin harder, looking down at him with a glare. "Don't you dare, take it off properly if you want it off. This was 60 dollars, I'm not letting a dumb pup like you ruin it."

His fingers fumble at your back, desperate to see you but unsure of where the hook is. A low moan leaves his lips when he finally gets it off, taking your tit in his mouth almost immediately. Swirling his tongue around it, you grab a fistful of his hair, shoving your hips towards his again.

You're lucky that he's big, big enough to hit all the right spots inside you without you having to do much, because the look on his face tells you that he's not capable of anything other than sucking on your breast. And despite all your words, you're not very capable of anything other than fucking yourself down against him.

Beomgyu's eyes are practically rolled back into his head when you look down at him again. The sight is funny, even if it causes something to twist in your stomach. The way this pretty boy can't even make the proper faces once his dick's in your cunt.

“You’re so fucking disgusting, don’t you now? Fucking me when you’re like this?” you hiss, gripping his hair in your hands.

 “’m sorry, 'm so sorry, i know, know 's gross but I can’t!”

His eyes fly open to meet yours in a panic when your fingertips pinch at the pink of his nipple. "D-don't, m-mommy, gon—gonna cum, y'know I can't take it, t' sensitive, please..."

You do know. And that alone is why you toy with him more, rubbing over the puffy bud while he squirms under you. "Don't you dare cum inside me, you hear? Don't want a dirty pup's cum inside me."

He nods frantically, eyes red and glazed with his tears, and he weakly tugs his dick from your cunt. You wrap your hand around yours to jerk him off until he reaches his peak, white cum painting your stomach in ropes.

"N-no, don't, what are you doing, c-can't!" Beomgyu lets out a choked noise when you roll your hips back towards his.

"Shut up, you can, gotta make me cum too, remember? Cause you're such a good boy, aren't you?" He nods fast, and you lower your torso to his to press a consoling kiss to his lips. They're bitten red, swollen from the constant tug of his teeth, and the familiar desperation he retaliates with makes you smile. Pulling back once more, you watch his hips twitch up to yours. "See? Told you you're a good boy, making me feel so good..."

"S' glad, let me touch, please?" He's slurring his words now, hand running through the soft brown of his hair.

"Go ahead, jus' this once, cause you're being so good..."

Beomgyu's eyes light up immediately, and his hand flies to your swollen clit without hesitation. Rubbing in circles, you have to admit, he's always been good at this. Even though he's sloppy with his movements, direct stimulation making you hiss through your teeth, he's still expert in the way he plays with your clit.

"Fuck, Gyu, gon' make me cum if you keep up with that, don't stop, will you?"

He nods, though you can tell the way your walls flutter around his dick is making his brain go fuzzy. "Can make you, 'm a good boy, gon' make you feel s' good.."

His hips grind up against yours with one particularly rough motion, and you're gone, form shaking above his.

"Doing so good, mommy, so pretty..." Beomgyu coos, spare hand resting on your cheek.

You roll onto your back next to him, chest heaving, and a wave of guilt hits you when you realize just what you've done. You fucked your stepbrother. On the day of your parents' wedding.

You sit abruptly and gather your things. "Goodnight, Gyu."

He pouts at you, dick pressed flush to his stomach, and you have to avoid looking at him. "Stay? Please?"

"No. I'm going to my room. Goodnight, Beomgyu."

And without a backwards glance, you step through the threshold of his doorway and promise you'll never be back in to answer his request.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

And you weren’t even considering it, not even thinking about it until weeks later, when your parents decided to watch a family movie before they leave on their honeymoon.

Your parents on the couch across from you, Beomgyu sits next to you on the “loveseat” in your living room. You’d never heard of such a thing as a loveseat until you moved into the Choi house– it must be a rich person thing. But the chair was just big enough for two people, sitting side by side, to have about four inches of room between them.

Not exactly the situation you want to put yourself in. 

You can feel the heat radiating off of him, and it only gets worse when he tugs a blanket over the two of you and hooks one of his legs around yours.  He’s in basketball shorts, and the feeling of his skin on yours is not something you want to be feeling right now. Shooting a warning look his way before scooting as close to the armrest as you can, you try your hardest to tamp down all the memories of things you’ve done with him.

But it’s hard when he slides closer to you again, side pressed flush to yours. 

“You’re all up on me, pet, I swear to god…” you whisper. 

This was the only nickname you’d kept up with since you cut him off. Your parents were innocent enough to think that it was a cute thing– your mom had even commented on it, “You calling him pet is so cute, I’m glad the two of you are still getting along when you’re living together.”

But Beomgyu knew that it wasn’t.

His breath catches in his throat the moment the name slips from your lips, and his hand grips yours under the sheets. “I’m cold, warm me up, please?”

You relent with a sigh. A small smile twitches the corners of your lips when he nuzzles against your body, and your focus finally turns back to the movie. 

It was one of your mom’s favorites, one from the year you were born called “A Walk to Remember.” It was a sad movie– you knew the whole time the girl was going to die eventually, which made it hard to enjoy the film itself.

Good thing it was sad, though, when Beomgyu coaxes your hand down the waistband of his pants. Because he’s panting, sniffling in your ear while your fist slides up and down his dick, and his father comments on how funny it was that Beomgyu’s crying so badly at this movie.

You only laugh, looking at Beomgyu with a twinkle in your eyes. “Had no idea you were so sensitive, Gyu.” His eyes are tear-filled when he looks up at you, a little squeak leaving his lips when you thumb over his tip.

“N-not my fault, she’s gonna die, it’s sad!”

Good lord, you could praise this boys acting skills right now. Beomgyu’s trembling against you, tears slipping down his cheeks so shamelessly. Your mom tosses you a box of tissues. You catch it and take two— one for his tears, and one to wipe up the cum that’s streaking his tummy in white.

You tuck the second tissue under the blanket to clean him up while Beomgyu catches his breath. His chest is heaving, up and down, and when your palm accidentally grazes his already re-hardening dick, he sucks in a breath so sharp he starts coughing.

“I—I’m okay, I swear,” he chokes out, and you rub his back, trying your hardest not to laugh. 

“You know,” your mom says when the movie finishes, all four of you in tears. “I’m really glad we can have moments like this, as a family, even though the two of you are all grown up.”

You manage a weak smile at her. You agree with everything in that sentence— except the family part. You go to say something, but a warm hand on your thigh turns your attention once more to the brown-haired boy beside you.

“Wanna come play with me?” He asks, lips pulled into a pout. If he were asking this a month ago, you would’ve agreed, no hesitation. You know exactly what his idea of “playing” entails. 

But now, in your current situation, you shake your head. “I’ve got homework to do for my class on Monday. Maybe next time.”

You leave the room in a silent stupor, mulling over the thoughts in your head. God, you’re so stupid. How could you fall for him like that again? You promised yourself to leave him alone, and look, here you are, all self-respect gone the moment his body touched yours. 

You need to distance yourself from him again. You can’t fucking do this, any and every choice you make regarding him is going to hurt both of you, and your parents. 

So you vow to yourself that you’ll never have to be in a situation like that with him again. Because you can only assume, with your parents leaving for two weeks, that Beomgyu’s going to pull something like this again.

By then, you hope you’re able to say no.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Once your parents leave, you find ways to keep yourself busy all day long, only coming home once you know Beomgyu is asleep in bed. You can’t risk being in the vicinity of him— you don’t have enough self control for that, and you know it.

But your friends cancel plans the morning of your sixth day home alone, leaving you to fend for yourself.

Beomgyu’s in the kitchen making coffee when you wake up. He’s in a pair of grey sweats and a regular black t-shirt, but the simple pairing sets off the glow of his honey-gold skin and you have to take a moment to catch your breath,

“Good morning,” you say, opening the fridge to grab a quick snack. 

“Morning,” he hums in response, not turning to look at you.

If he had, he would’ve noticed the way your jaw fell slack, cheeks going hot purely at the sound of his voice. At least half an octave deeper than his regular speaking tone, his morning voice had your stomach twisting the way it used to when he touched you.

“Coffee?” Beomgyu asks, finally looking your way. You can see him mentally making note of your state— hair a little disheveled, long shirt hanging to your mid-thigh, tiny shorts not even peeking past the hem.

“Sure,” you manage, taking a bite of the protein bar you found in the fridge. It’s cold, and you almost break a tooth on it, but it’s better than nothing.

Beomgyu grabs your favorite mug from the cabinet, pouring in just the right ratio of cream, sugar, and coffee. You take it, fearing you’re unable to hide your surprise. He catches your eye and a small smile peeks through the otherwise stony expression on his face. “You think I’d forget how you take your coffee after three years?”

You sip your drink to hide your smile. “Of course not.”

Over the scent of your coffee, you catch another, familiar smell. Not the smell of Beomgyu— that you remember all too well. But the smell of your body wash, coming from the boy right next to you. 

“Did you use my soap?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed. You watch Beomgyu’s body language closely; he’s turning back away from you, shoulders hunched, fidgeting with the silver ring on his finger.

“N— Yeah, I did, mine was out..” He mumbles, running his hand through his hair.

“Oh.”

That’s not the truth, you can tell, but you don’t push, and Beomgyu quickly changes the subject. “I’m having someone over later, just so you know. If you’re here.”

“My friends ditched me, so I’ll be here.” You smile wryly. “Thanks for the head’s up.”

“Of course.”

The two of you stand there in awkward silence for a moment. The only noise comes from the sipping of your coffee, and the slight hum of the air conditioner pumping out cold air.

“I… I’ll be in my room.” You say. Beomgyu nods, looking down at his phone as if he couldn’t care less.

Chewing your lip while you walk back to your bedroom, you flop on your bed. Why would he lie to you about using your soap? It’s not like you’d be mad at all. It’s entirely fine, you’ve used his soap before. Of course, that was for completely different reasons… 

Wait.

That couldn’t be it at all. He’s not that perverted, is he? To use your soap to jerk off? It’d certainly explain his behavior…

You take a deep breath to clear your thoughts. No, you are not going to think about Beomgyu jerking off with your soap. But the mental image won’t leave you, and before you can even realize what you’re doing, you’re sliding your shorts off your hips and slipping your middle finger between your folds. It brushes your clit— oh, fuck, you haven’t done this in weeks, not since the wedding, and your poor, desperate clit can barely even handle the slight stimulation from your fingertip. 

Your knees knock together the second the middle finger of your non-dominant hand presses against your awaiting hole, slick already spreading through the thin material of the underwear you’re wearing. The pressure in your abdomen never ceases when you nestle your middle and ring finger entirely between your fluttering walls.

“F—fuck,” you breathe, rolling your hips towards your fingers. Images of Beomgyu are running through your mind with every circle of your finger around your clit— Beomgyu between your legs, tongue on your clit, fuck, he always loved that… Beomgyu with his dick pressed flush to his tummy, whining and pleading for you to touch him, tip leaking precum and making him all a mess…

You’re cumming in seconds at the memory of how he’d whimper under your touch, his pretty brown eyes swimming with tears. Mouth dropped open in silent pleas, you chase your high until your body aches for a break. You rest against the cold of your bedsheets to catch your breath. 

Settling down with a book, you forget almost entirely what Beomgyu’d said about bringing someone over, until it was almost 4 in the afternoon.

Downstairs, the front door opens. Voices from the living room travel perfectly up to your awaiting ears, and you find yourself pressing your lips together in frustration. Beomgyu didn’t mention that the person he was bringing over was a girl.

“Is anyone home?” You can hear her ask, a sickeningly sweet smile lacing her question.

“Just my stepsister.”

And just like that, you’re reduced to nothing but a single word. His stepsister. Like you weren’t his sole reason for existence for the past three years. Who did he go to when he was spiraling at night, who did he call up at four in the morning because he knew she’d always answer? That was you. Not whoever this other girl was.

“Oh, good. She won’t mind, will she?”

“Of course not. Especially if you can stay quiet.”

You can practically hear the wink in his voice, and it makes your skin crawl. Is he gonna have sex with her? He wouldn’t dare, not with you in the house.

Right?

“We’ll have to see how good you are, then..~”

“Trust me, baby, I’ll show you a good time.”

You shove your earbuds in your ear and blast the most hype music you can, 2010s dance-pop type beats, trying your hardest to drown out anything else that comes from their lips. You can still hear the door to the room across from you slam shut—can still hear the girls forced pornographic moans. Where the hell did he even find this girl?

After an hour and a half, you’re convinced she must be gone, and you pad down carpeted stairs to make yourself a sandwich. Just in case, music is still playing as loud as possible through your earbuds.

As you slice your sandwich in half, ready to go back to the safety of your room, Beomgyu’s door opens a crack and a lithe figure slips from it. You have to assume it’s the girl you heard before— she’s about your height, wearing a crop top, short shorts, and she’s got mascara running down her cheeks. Damn. He must’ve managed to do her good, then. How come he never pulled that out with you?

She catches sight of you. “Oh, you must be the stepsister?”

You nod, and she smiles, running a hand through her hair. “I hope we weren’t too loud. I’d hate to disturb you.”

“No, no.” You’re quick to assure her that everything is alright. “I’ve had music playing the whole time.”

“Okay, good. Well, I’ll be off now. It’s nice meeting you!”

“Nice meeting you too!” You call after her retreating form. With a huff, you settle down on your mattress once more, taking a bite of your sandwich.

There’s a knock at your door. “Yes?”

Beomgyu pokes his head in. “Wanna play?”

Your mouth falls open at his pure audacity to come in here and ask you that after fucking another girl. “No, I do not.”

“Why not?” There he goes with that fucking pout again, the one he knows gets you to snap.

“Why not? Because you just fucked someone else, and I don’t feel like fucking someone’s sloppy seconds. Plus, I’d probably get an STD of some sort from you.”

“Please?”

He’s sitting at the edge of your bed by now, and you reach to grab his chin. “I said no, pet.”

“See, you’re saying no, but you’re acting all fem-dom and calling me pet, which makes me think that you really do want to fuck me.” Beomgyu gives you a singular shit-eating grin, and you slap him in the face. Hard.

“You’re such a whore, Beomgyu, god! Why the hell do you think I’d want to fuck you?? You already got your dick wet once today, is that not enough for you?”

He rubs his cheek with a shocked, wide-eyed expression. Your gaze drops to his crotch— there’s a very obvious tent there, and you raise your eyebrows in disgust. “You’re getting turned on by this?! You’re fucking disgusting!” You exclaim. “Get out!”

“Fine, whatever,” he mumbles under his breath, slinking out of your door and back into his bedroom.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Over the course of the next week, you don’t see Beomgyu out of his room once. You can hear him, though. Good lord, can you hear him. This house makes you finally realize what “thin walls” actually means— and every night, you can hear perfectly how he’s whining, whimpering as he gets himself off, gasps of your name the only semi-intelligible sounds that leave his lips.

The past two days, he’s even resorted to leaving his door open all day long. Best be sure you’ve seen him changing one too many times, and you’ve made sure to be quiet playing with yourself after.

Scrolling on your phone mindlessly, three texts come through simultaneously. Two from you and your friends’ group chat, and one from Beomgyu. The latter is an image, which is already suspicious in itself, but, against your better judgment, you find yourself opening it. A small noise of surprise leaves your parted lips when you do.

The image is blurry, but you can make out the subject easily— Beomgyu, laying back in bed, face-fucked, drool leaking down his chin, all while he holds his dick in one limp hand.

You you’re such a pervert

Gyu <3

don’t yiu lije ir?

You

are you seriously jerking off right now?

Gyu <3

Sent a video

You

it was a simple yes or no question you didn’t have to send a video to answer

Gyu <3

aswers yws mpmmy

cime plsy pls?

You

if you can’t even type out a simple message how am I supposed to believe you’ll fuck me good?

Gyu <3

plsplspls neesd yoi sp bsd :()((

You

fine. just this once.

You both knew you were lying.

You peek through the crack in his door, and lord, he’s a sight to behold. Pretty throat on full display with his head rocked back, he’s sliding his hand up and down his dick, small whimpers leaving his lips.

“Knock knock,” you whisper, breathless.

Beomgyu’s glossy eyes light up when he sees you in the doorway. “Come in, please mommy?”

“Does my pretty boy need help?” You coo, easily slipping into your old dynamic. It’s familiar, comfortable, so much so that you can almost entirely ignore the guilt pooling in your stomach. 

“Please, hurts so bad,” he whimpers, and when you finally take a moment to look at him fully, you believe it.

His dick looks painfully hard, tip red and leaking precum all over the soft skin of his tummy. “I bet… awh, pup, why didn’t you call me in sooner?”

Lips pulled in a pout, he says, “You got s’ mad last time, didn’t want you to say no.”

“Wouldn’t, not when you’re like this…” You wrap a gentle hand around his dick, and he sucks in a sharp breath. “You’re extra sensitive today, aren’t you, pretty?” 

He nods quickly. “Been like this all day, ‘m so sorry…”

You settle between his legs with a smile. Nosing along the inside of his thigh, you look up at him, eyes narrowed. “Did you use my soap again?”

Beomgyu’s cheeks flush an endearing shade of pink. “Tha’s what got me like this in the first place, only wanted to jerk off smelling like you, but then I couldn’t forget how you feel ‘gainst me, so pretty and soft…” His eyes shut when you slowly run your hand up the length of him.

“Don’t worry, mommy’s got you now, gon’ take such good care of you..~”

His sheets are soft, cool to the touch, and soon there’s a wet spot on them from the way your saliva slides down his dick. You hollow your cheeks around him as you welcome the familiar taste— this isn’t anything you haven’t done before together. Your nose rests against his pelvis and Beomgyu squirms under your touch. His knuckles are white from gripping the blanket. It’s almost cute, the way he’s such a mess already, tongue lolled out of his mouth like a dog. 

His hips twitch up to your mouth and you gag on him once, pressing them back down to the mattress. “Don’t move, pretty, let me make you feel good.”

Beomgyu nods again, almost frantically, looking down at you with a wide-eyed look that makes you throb. “F-feels s’ good, mommy, not gonna be able to last, I-I’m sorry…”

You only hum around the girth of him, reaching up to pull at his nipple, rolling the bud between your fingers, and you feel him twitch in your mouth. “Wait, mommy, w-wanna, fuck, wanna cum on your tits, please?”

“I’ve got a better idea…” Shifting so your face is almost parallel to his chest, you hike your shirt up and press your tits together around the base of his dick. A single choked sound falls from his lips and he fucks up towards your tits with a desperation he’s never fucked your cunt with in all your years together. You lick over his tip every time it peeks through your tits, and soon, he’s got tears rolling down his cheeks. 

“Mommy, so close, please let me, wan’ cum, please please please!” His hand flies to your hair, gripping it so hard your scalp twinges.

“Go ahead, pup, you deserve it…”

The pretty boy underneath you lets out a pathetic whine, and rope after rope of warm cum paints your tits in white. Beomgyu pants underneath your touch— you stroke his cheek consolingly, pressing kisses up the line of his neck. You can feel his heart beat running faster and faster when you lick up his Adam’s apple, sucking a purpling hickey onto it.

“You alright, pet?” You hum, and he only nods again.

“Mommy?”

“Yes, Gyu?”

“Can I try topping you?”

His tone is sincere and you could curse yourself for the noise of surprise that slips past the restraint of your lips. Beomgyu looks away, tears filling his waterline again. “Nevermind, ’s stupid, just thought I’d ask, been thinking about it…”

“No, no, Gyu, of course you can, I was just surprised.. We’ve never, you know? Not once in all the years… But yes, go ahead, fuck, at least try.” You rush to reassure him, and his eyes go wide.

“Fuck, are you being serious?” He runs a hand through his hair, sitting up, and you sit back on your heels.

“Yes, I’m being serious if you are.”

“Okay, fuck, alright, I didn’t expect you to say yes…” He seems unsure of what to do with himself, and you slide up the bed until your head is against the headboard, then tug him onto you by his wrist.

“C’mon, pretty, don’t tell me you’re gonna chicken out?” You smile, and his eyes fill with an emotion you’ve never seen before in him.

Beomgyu kisses you so hard that it catches you off guard, and you smile when his tongue meets yours. He’s doing well so far, actually.

He pushes your thighs apart, yanking your shorts and panties down and off, slotting himself between your legs to rub three fingers against your clit. An embarrassing mewl of a noise leaves you the moment he makes contact with your swollen bud. You can’t pretend you don’t notice the cocky smirk that stretches itself over his features. “Pretty girl’s already whining for me, what happened, mommy?”

Two long, slender fingers slip to rest between your gummy walls, and Beomgyu’s eyes blow out wide. “Fuck, you’re soaked, you’re not usually like this, are you?”

You shake your head, unable to speak when he curls his fingers in towards your stomach at a pace so fast it sends goosebumps up and down your body. “N-no, you know that, don’t know why it’s different…”

He bites his lip in a smile, fingers jackhammering into you. His free hand pushes your thighs back apart when your knees jolt together. “Don’t tell me you’re into this, are you, baby?”

“Fuck, shut up, Gyu, will you please fuck me?”

“Not with that attitude, baby, not gonna fuck ungrateful brats.”

That makes you shut your mouth. Beomgyu grins down at you again, and the look on his face makes you want to smack him. But you stay quiet, until his other hand finds your clit and you’re cumming around him with a squeak. Beomgyu pulls his fingers out of you with a smug smile, licking them clean, then kisses you again, hiking your shirt up and over your cum-stained tits. 

“Clothes off, darling,” he coos in your ear, catching your earlobe between his teeth.

You slip the shirt off the rest of the way, and Beomgyu narrows his eyes, tongue between his teeth as he looks you up and down. “Fuck, you’re so pretty…”

“Gyu…” you whisper, and his gaze rests on yours. “Please?”

“You’re asking so nicely… might as well, think I can cum inside this time?”

“If you can actually top me without turning into a mess the second you get your dick inside, you can do whatever the fuck you want.” 

And you mean it. It’s not like you haven’t thought about him as a dom— the thought’s ran through your head almost every day since the first time you fucked him. It just hadn’t occurred to you that it was possible for him. He’s consistently a, for lack of a better word, pathetic sub, whining and panting the moment you touch him. Even if he’d decided to be extra bratty, he’d still lose it all the minute your skin is on his.

So this new change is definitely not unwelcome.

“Sounds good, mommy.”

Tip pressed to your dripping cunt, he rocks his hips forward til he’s all the way inside you. You sigh in relief, fitted perfectly. Beomgyu’s always fits inside you like a missing puzzle piece, like he was made to stay here, between your legs.

“Feel so good ‘round me, baby, always taking me so good… I’ve fucked this pretty pussy into being shaped just for me, haven’t I?” He rests his forehead against yours, pressing a light kiss to your lips before pulling back to rut his pelvis towards your thighs.

Every drag of his cock along your walls sends ecstasy rolling up your limbs. Fuck, thank god he’s good with his hips. The fact that he’s managing more than the measly twitches of his hips you’re used to is impressive in itself, but he’s even better than that, and the pure pleasure settling in your lower stomach is enough to have fresh tears sliding off your cheeks and onto his pillowcase.

“Gyu, fuck, need more, f— oh fuck— faster, please?” You mumble, left hand clutching his forearm, while your right hand wound itself through the silky strands of his hair. Your thumb brushes over the slight stubble of his cheek, and he smiles at you, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

He pushes his hair back and out of his face, and the simple sight of his forehead on display has your stomach twisting deliciously. Pace turning from quarter notes to eighth notes, your body jolts in reaction, and you swallow thickly. He looks so good above you— pretty chocolate brown hair swept out of his face, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, your gaze drops to the smooth bare of his torso. He wasn’t “buff” by any means, but your eyes settle on lines of muscle under his skin that definitely weren’t there a month and a half ago.

“Pet, have you been working out?” Your words are embarrassingly choked. Beomgyu gives you another shit-eating grin.

“I have, do you like it?” Despite the mocking tone in his voice, there’s an underlying note of something else, like he’s waiting for you to say yes.

So you do, because it’s the answer, and the look of pure joy on his face makes it all worth it. “Like it s’ much, Gyu, look so pretty…”

“Not as pretty as you, mommy, look at you, all a mess underneath me an’ I swear you’ve never looked better..~”

Your walls fluttering around the girth of him betrays your straight face, and Beomgyu presses a kiss to your parted lips. “Like when I tell you that, mommy? Like when Gyu says you look so perfect under him, all fucked out on his dick, hm?”

You nod frantically, and he nods back at you, bottom lip caught between his teeth. “Mean every word of it, pretty girl looks like a fucking angel with my dick inside her…”

You tighten desperately around him with a whine, gripping at the hands he’s got on your waist to pull you closer to him. “Gyu, fuck, gonna c-cum, t’ good, please, wanna..!”

“Go ‘head, baby, cum all over my cock, love the way you feel ‘round me..~”

You can feel him quivering above you when you clamp down on him, orgasm hitting you like a fucking truck, and Beomgyu kisses away the tears on your cheeks. “There we go, there’s my good girl… C-can I cum too, please?”

“Go ahead, Gyu, you’ve done so good, made mommy feel so good, oh fuck!” 

He’s fucking into you with a new desperation to reach his high, completely disregarding the fact that you’ve only just came, and the overstimulation makes your grip tighten on his arm. “Gyu, calm down, fuck, hurts, can’t— can’t take it, Gyu!”

Beomgyu shakes his head, panting in your ear, body trembling against yours. “Can take it, you’re such a good girl, aren’t you? Gotta get me off now, ’s my turn.”

Fuck, how the tables have turned. A complete 180 from the night of the wedding, and he’s coaxing you to take him despite the way your body begs for a break. The sound of his hips meeting yours over and over again is prominent over the short moans that every one of his movements pulls from your lips.

“Oh, oh fuck, fuck, taking me so good, thank you, thank you, fuck!” Voice breathless, he pins your hips to his, milking himself inside you.

Oh shit. It’s not like you’ve never had the boy cum inside you— it’s happened once or twice, on accident, and you best believe you both freaked the fuck out afterwards— but this time, it’s different. He’s holding your body to his, both of you shaking, and the way you can feel his warm cum in your womb is making you weak.

Beomgyu stays like that for a moment, arms around you, yours around him, dick nestled between your walls. He’s so fucking warm against you, pants painting your skin. The intimacy of it all is almost enough to have you running out of the room immediately, but something in the tone of his voice convinces you to stay. 

When he finally pulls out, his cum drips from your cunt and onto his sheets, but you can tell Beomgyu couldn’t care less. His eyes are transfixed on the white of his cum on your thighs, the way it seems like his seed could be leaking from you forever.

Finally, he gets up to find a washcloth to clean you up, and does so with such tenderness that your heart twinges.

“Gyu, we have to talk…” you mumble against his hair.

Laying in his bed, the both of you are dressed only in the bare minimum, Beomgyu’s face resting on your chest, and every once in a while you can feel him sucking a purpling mark onto the flesh of your breasts.

He shakes his head in response to your suggestion. “No, we don’t.”

“We do, we can’t keep doing thi—“

His finger on your lips cuts you off. “Shush, you’re ruining pillow talk. This is not how it’s supposed to be.”

“Listen to me, Beomgyu! I can’t do this, fucking you isn’t gonna do anything but hurt everyone around us. Don’t you understand?”

He’s got the same pout on his face and you know you won’t be able to argue with whatever he’s going to say, that look gets you every fucking time. 

Before he can answer, however, the front door bangs open and two voices, one male, one female, call out, “We’re home! Where are the two of you?”

You’re cursing your parents for ruining your important talk, but Beomgyu’s thanking them as the two of you frantically pull your clothes on. 

Conversation postponed. ;)

[mononijikayu]

honeymoon — gojo satoru.

He grins. “We’ll see!” he replies, leaning closer, his lips brushing against your temple. “Now, how about we start this honeymoon properly? I was thinking of a little walk along the Seine, maybe a café stop or two……” You nod, feeling the excitement bubble up inside you. “That sounds perfect.” “But seriously, wifey. Let them be annoyed back at home.” he shrugged when you expressed concern over the complaints he might face. “They’ve been annoyed with me my whole life. I’d rather have them grumbling than miss out on this with you. I mean, it's been years! Couldn’t they just let us live?”

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence!;

WARNING/S: fluff, romance, nsfw, r-18, smut, making out, body praise, kissing, rough sex, p-i-v sex, oral (male and female receiving), pet names (baby, wifey....), love, humor, light-hearted, married life, being in love, sexual intercourse, intoxication, partying, slice of life, domestic life, family, honeymoon, depictions of sexual acts, depiction of body praise, depiction of naked bodies, depiction of alcohol consumption, depiction of being drunk, mention of sexual innuendo, mention of being drunk, mention of alcoholic consumption, mention of sexual intercourse, husband! satoru, wife! reader;

WORD COUNT: 8.5k words

NOTE: when i was plotting, i really thought about how i never made an explicit thing for us and them, so this is an extension of this along with my other things. i also included the end, because it was just something i think about. how would satoru gojo explain to his child how he was made? anyway, i hope you enjoy it!!! i love you <3

masterlist

kinktober 2024 - kayu's version

u s and t h e m

if you want to, tip!

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THIS WAS A LOT, EVEN FOR HIM. Two years of marriage, and you were finally going on a honeymoon. It was a journey that had been delayed for so long, almost forgotten amid the chaos of life and the expectations that weighed heavily on Gojo Satoru as the clan leader.

From the beginning, Satoru had refused to follow the traditional expectations—refused to parade you like some prize on display for the men in the clan. On your wedding night, instead of the grand celebrations and rituals everyone had expected, there had been a quiet understanding between the two of you.

Back then, you and Satoru were far from being romantically inclined. The marriage had been more of an alliance, an arrangement to fulfill the duties both of you bore. He hadn’t wanted to make you uncomfortable, and you had appreciated his consideration, even if it left a lingering sense of uncertainty between you.

But time had worked its magic, slowly and subtly. You had grown closer, finding comfort and familiarity in each other's presence. The first kiss had been tentative, almost accidental, but it had opened the door to something more profound. Each kiss after that became less about caution and more about the quiet desire that had started to blossom between you.

Now, you stood together at the threshold of something new. You had been the one to bring it up, gently, cautiously. You told him you were ready for the next step, ready to explore the possibilities that had once seemed so distant. Satoru had listened, his usual playful demeanor tempered by something more serious, more uncertain.

For all his bravado and confidence, you could see the nervousness in his eyes, the slight hesitation that had become rare in the man who seemed unshakable. This was new for him too, a path neither of you had walked before, and the weight of it was not lost on him.

As you packed for the trip, you could feel the unspoken tension between you both, a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Satoru hovered nearby, throwing casual remarks your way, but there was an edge to his voice that you couldn’t ignore.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he finally asked, his gaze intense as he watched you carefully fold the last of your clothes into the suitcase.

You met his eyes, seeing the vulnerability he rarely showed. “I’m sure, you know?” you said, your voice steady. “But we don’t have to rush anything. We’ll take it at our own pace.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly at your words, and he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You always know how to keep me grounded,” he said, his tone lightening.

You smiled back, feeling a warmth in your chest that hadn’t been there before. “We’ll be okay, Satoru,” you reassured him. “We’ve made it this far, haven’t we?”

He reached out, pulling you into his arms, holding you close. “Yeah, we have.” he murmured, his breath warm against your hair. “And I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here, with you.”

As you stood there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, the uncertainty began to melt away, replaced by the quiet confidence that whatever came next, you would face it together. This trip, this honeymoon, was just another step in a journey that was uniquely yours, one that you were ready to take with him by your side.

The morning of the trip arrives with a quiet hum of excitement and a nervous energy that fills the air. Satoru, always so composed, is now anything but. He paces the living room, hands running through his snowy white hair, the usual spark in his eyes dimmed by a deep-seated anxiety. For once, the great Satoru Gojo—the man who could face curses and calamity without a flicker of fear seems utterly and completely lost.

“What if I mess this up?” he mutters to himself, barely noticing the presence of Megumi, Tsumiki, and your mother as they watch him from the doorway. “What if she realizes this was a mistake? What if I just do the worst and I—”

Your mother steps forward first, her soft, reassuring voice cutting through his frantic rambling. “Satoru,” she says gently, a calm smile on her lips. “You need to breathe. You’re going to be fine.”

He glances at her, his expression a mix of gratitude and confusion. “But… What if I’m not? What if I do something wrong? What if—”

Megumi, who had been quietly observing from the side, sighs and steps closer. “You’re overthinking again, it’s really annoying.” he says, his tone blunt but not unkind. “She chose you, Gojo–san. And she’s still here. That’s not going to change just because you’re nervous about this trip.”

Satoru pauses, considering the words, his brow furrowed. “But what if—”

“Gojo–san.” Tsumiki interrupts, her voice softer than Megumi’s but just as firm. “You love her, right?”

He blinks, as if the question is absurd. “Of course I do!” he answers immediately, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable. “I love her more than anything.”

“Then trust her.” Tsumiki says simply, with her beaming smile. “Trust that she loves you too. Trust that she understands.”

Your mother nods, her hand reaching out to touch his arm gently. “She knows you, Satoru. She knows your flaws, your strengths… and she loves you anyway. Just be yourself. That’s all she wants.”

Satoru takes a deep breath, his shoulders still tense but beginning to relax under their calming words. “I just… I don’t want to mess this up, you know?” he admits, his voice almost a whisper. “I don’t want to lose her. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

Megumi, always the quiet anchor in the storm that was Satoru’s life, steps even closer. “You won’t.” he says with quiet certainty. “You’re both figuring this out together. It’s okay to be nervous, but don’t let that stop you from enjoying this. She wants to see you happy, Gojo–san. And I think… you need to see that too.”

Satoru nods slowly, his breath evening out as he absorbs their words. He straightens up, his usual confidence creeping back into his posture, but now tempered with something softer, more genuine.

“Okay….okay.” he murmurs, a small smile forming. “Okay. I can do this.”

Your mother squeezes his arm one last time, her smile warm and encouraging. “You already are, Satoru. Now go! The two of you need to make some great memories. And don’t forget to have fun.”

He laughs, a little shakily, but it’s a real laugh, the kind that lights up his face. “Yeah, fun… I think I remember how to do that, mother!” he teases, and they all chuckle.

As they head back to their respective rooms in the house, Gojo Satoru stands alone for a moment, taking a deep breath. He feels lighter, as if a great weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

The anxiety is still there, but it’s manageable now, a small flutter in his chest rather than a crushing force. He loves you too much to let fear get in the way. He loves you enough to take this step, to trust in the bond you’ve built together, one small moment at a time.

When he finally comes to find you, finally ready and dressed for the airport. He couldn’t help but just stare. You were so beautiful. And you chose him, to love him like this and bless him with beauty like this. Somehow, there’s a new steadiness in his gaze, a renewed sense of purpose. He reaches for your hand, his grip firm but gentle, and you can feel the resolve in his touch. You smiled at him, squeezing back.

“I’m ready to go.” he says softly, his blue eyes searching for yours. “Ready to do this, with you.”

You smile, squeezing his hand back. “Then let’s go, Satoru. Let’s make this ours.”

And with that, you both step forward—toward whatever the future holds, side by side, ready to face it together.

══════════════════

IT WAS A LONG FLIGHT, AND HE COULDN’T SLEEP. The plane touched down in the city of Paris, the city bathed in the soft light of an early evening. Gojo Satoru’s firm fingers remain intertwined with yours as you both step out into the bustling airport, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand, a small, comforting gesture that has become second nature to him.

He’s still a little on edge, that was certain. You can tell from the way his eyes dart around, the smallest twitch of his lips betraying his usual calm. But he’s here, and that matters more than anything.

He had taken time off, a long time, much to the frustration of the higher-ups and the clan elders who had protested and argued about duty and obligations. Yet Satoru had been unyielding, for once using his influence not for some mission or jujutsu-related endeavor, but for something that mattered far more to him—you.

Satoru seems more relaxed now, leaning back in the seat, one arm casually draped over your shoulders. “I still can’t believe I managed to take this much time off.” he muses aloud, a small smile on his lips. “I think they’re having a meltdown back at the school. But, honestly? Worth it.”

You chuckle. “Are you going to get in trouble for this?” you ask, a little worried despite yourself.

He snorts. “Let them try,” he says with a wink. “They can’t exactly do much to the strongest sorcerer in the world, can they?”

His arrogance, though familiar, is softened by the way he looks at you, his gaze filled with an affection that makes your cheeks warm. “Besides, wifey….” he continues. “If it means I get to see you smile like that, I’d take a whole year off.”

You shake your head, amused. “That might be a bit much, even for you, Satoru.”

He grins. “We’ll see!” he replies, leaning closer, his lips brushing against your temple. “Now, how about we start this honeymoon properly? I was thinking of a little walk along the Seine, maybe a café stop or two……”

You nod, feeling the excitement bubble up inside you. “That sounds perfect.”

“But seriously, wifey. Let them be annoyed back at home.” he shrugged when you expressed concern over the complaints he might face. “They’ve been annoyed with me my whole life. I’d rather have them grumbling than miss out on this with you. I mean, it's been years! Couldn’t they just let us live?” 

Nothing more was talked about after that. He was right, if he was being honest. You two have been married for a while now and Gojo Satoru never really took any holidays unless you guys needed him for important school dates or to spend time with you on the weekends. And you supposed you understood, because you were like that too before you took a long break from being a Jujutsu sorcerer. 

Now you supposed, your husband Satoru seems lighter, his usual goofy, excited smile finally returning. You liked him like this, you think. Even then when you first met him, he had a really nice smile. And you wanted to keep him this way. Smiling and happy. Because he looked the most beautiful like that.

 “So, wifey…..” he says, glancing over at you with a playful gleam in his bright blue eyes. “Where to first, madame Gojo? The Seine or the cafe?”

The way he says it, with a comically exaggerated French accent, makes you laugh joyously. “You’ve really been practicing, mon amour?” you tease, nudging him with your shoulder.

He laughs, the sound bright and carefree. “I’ve been preparing as always!” he corrects, “Wouldn’t it make it the perfect trip if it was hassle free by speaking French? Of course, only the best for my beloved, after all.” 

His words carried a mixture of sincerity and that playful confidence you had grown so fond of, causing your heart to skip a beat. The joy that shimmered in his eyes was contagious, and you couldn’t help but giggle at his enthusiasm. With a smile tugging at your lips, you leaned into the moment. 

“Then let’s enjoy a walk to the Seine river and then go to the café,” you said softly.

“Oh? That sounds like a plan!” Satoru responded with his signature energy, his grin wide and carefree. 

As the two of you ventured out into the crisp evening air, the world seemed to blur into the background. His hand held yours firmly, fingers intertwined as if they’d always belonged there. Every step along the Seine felt like something out of a dream.

The golden lights of Paris danced on the water’s surface, flickering like they were playing just for you. You caught Satoru sneaking glances at the city around him—his eyes bright and full of wonder as he took in the reflection of lights on the river, the charming hum of the city enveloping you both.

What captivated him the most, though, wasn’t the sights of Paris, but you. You felt his gaze linger every time you smiled at the simple things: a street musician playing a gentle tune, the comforting scent of pastries that filled the air. He marveled at the joy you found in these little moments, and somehow, you felt even more connected to him. With each passing second, it was like you were experiencing the city together, seeing it through each other's eyes.

There were no words needed. Satoru’s presence—steady, warm—was more than enough. As you walked, it felt as though time had paused, and all that existed was the quiet beauty of the night, the sound of your footsteps, and the feeling of his hand in yours.

As the night wears on, your husband insists on buying you a flower from a street vendor, presenting it to you with a flourish and an exaggerated bow that makes you laugh. You catch him watching you more than he watches the sights, his eyes full of a softness that you’ve rarely seen before, as if he’s trying to memorize every moment, every expression on your face.

Later, you find a small café tucked away on a quiet street. Your lovely Satoru orders in perfect French, much to the amusement of the waiter. You think that the Frenchman was delighted at the thought of someone speaking the language, but the accent you supposed was still not enough. Still, you think his pretty face made him more endearing. 

The two of you sit outside to enjoy the lovely glow of the streetlights, sharing a dessert and sipping on your drinks, your chairs pulled close together. You got an espresso and your husband got a really sweet iced caramel macchiato, with a pain au chocolat and a chocolate cake on the side.

“I’ve never seen you this relaxed, you know?” you comment softly, noticing the way his shoulders have finally lost their tension.

He shrugs, a small smile on his lips. “I’ve never had a reason to be either, well…not until recently. Especially with you.” he admits. “Being with you… it makes everything else seem less important.”

You reach out, placing your hand over his. “Thank you for this, Satoru.” you say quietly. “For taking this time. For making me feel like I’m worth all of it.”

He turns his hand over, squeezing yours. “You’re worth more than that, wifey.” he replies, his voice low and earnest. “You’re worth everything to me.”

For a moment, the world seems to slow, and it’s just the two of you, sitting together in a little café in Paris, a city full of life and love. The future seems bright, and the worries of the past fade away, replaced by the simple joy of being here, together.

As the night grows deeper, Satoru leans in closer, his forehead resting against yours. “You’re happy?” he asks softly, as if seeking reassurance.

You smile, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. “I’m happier than I’ve ever been.” you whisper back.

His smile widens, his eyes sparkling with relief and joy. “Good.” he murmurs. “Because I plan to keep you that way, no matter what.”

And in that moment, under the Parisian sky, you know he means every word.

The days in Paris begin to blur together, a soft blend of golden light, laughter, and the endless discovery of each other in a new place. You wake each morning to the sound of Satoru's humming, his voice light and carefree as he attempts a tune he’s probably heard in some old movie. He looks so at peace here, his usual edges softened, a smile almost always playing on his lips.

Your first full day is filled with exploration. You both decide to take things slow, meandering through the narrow streets, Satoru’s hand warm in yours. He insists on trying every pastry you come across, from croissants to pain au chocolat, and he buys them in excess, delighting in your shared bites and the way your face lights up with every taste. 

At some point, you find yourselves at the foot of the Eiffel Tower, the iconic structure towering above you. Satoru looks up, his sunglasses perched on his nose, shielding his eyes from the midday sun. “So, do we do the tourist thing?” he asks, grinning.

You laugh, nodding. “Why not? We’re here, aren’t we?”

He pulls you along, his excitement infectious as you both make your way to the elevator. The ride up is filled with a mix of awe and a little bit of playful bickering. Satoru teases you about your slight fear of heights, and you mock him for pretending to be calm when you can feel the tension in his grip on the rail.

At the top, the view is breathtaking. Paris stretches out beneath you like a painting—rooftops, winding streets, the Seine glittering in the distance. Satoru stands behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you close. “Look….” he murmurs in your ear. “All of this… and you’re still the best thing I’ve seen today.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. “You’re so cheesy, Satoru.”

He chuckles, his breath warm against your neck. “Only for you.”

As you gaze out at the city, you feel his heart beating against your back, steady and strong. It’s moments like this that make you realize just how far you’ve come with him—from the careful, tentative steps of your early marriage to the unspoken trust and affection that now bloom between you. The nervousness that lingered in both of you is slowly fading, replaced by something deeper, something real.

Later, as the sun begins to dip below the horizon, you find yourselves wandering into a small park. The air is cooler, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves overhead. Satoru pulls you toward a bench, sitting down and tugging you onto his lap. He’s always been tactile, always needed that physical connection, and you’ve come to find comfort in it too.

He looks up at you, his blue eyes softening in the fading light. “You know,” he starts, his tone uncharacteristically serious, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh?” You tilt your head, curious. “That’s new for you.”

He laughs, his chest rumbling beneath you. “Ha-ha. Very funny.” he quips, but there’s a fondness in his voice. “No, really. I’ve been thinking about how… how different everything feels now. How much I want this… us, to be real. Not just an arrangement or a convenience.”

You feel your heart flutter in your chest. “It already is real, Satoru.” you whisper, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

He nods, his expression earnest. “I know. But I want more. I want… all of you. Your happiness,  your worries, your dreams… everything. I want you to know that I’m here. Fully, completely.”

For a moment, you’re lost in his gaze, the sincerity in his words sinking in. “I do know, you know?” you say softly. “And I’m here too. I’ve always been.”

He smiles, a genuine, radiant smile that makes your heart swell. “Good.” he says, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Because I’ve got big plans for us, you know.”

You raise an eyebrow, amused. “Oh? And what kind of plans might those be?”

He grins, that playful light back in his eyes. “Well, I was thinking… maybe a little house somewhere quiet, where we can have lazy mornings and late nights, and I can spend every day annoying you with my presence. Lots of space for Tsumiki and Megumi. For….for more kids, maybe.”

You laugh, the sound bright and free. “Sounds like a dream.” you tease.

He leans in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, lingering kiss. “It is, isn’t it?” he whispers against your mouth. “My dream. Our dream.”

And as you sit there, wrapped in his arms under the soft glow of the Parisian twilight, you feel a sense of peace settle over you, knowing that no matter what comes next, you’ll face it together, with love and laughter and all the beautiful, messy moments in between.

══════════════════

BEFORE LONG, THEY WERE INTO THE FUN. The night falls deeper, and you find yourselves in a cozy, dimly lit jazz bar on the quieter side of the city. The music is soft and sultry, a saxophone weaving its way through the smoky air. You’ve already had a few drinks, and while you’re feeling pleasantly light, Satoru—who rarely drinks at all—has decided tonight is an exception.

He raises his glass, clinking it gently against yours, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “To us!” he toasts, his voice already carrying that playful slur that makes your heart flutter.

“To us!” you echo, and take a sip, feeling the warmth spread through your chest.

The band starts up a livelier tune, something with a beat that makes your foot tap against the floor. Satoru grins, setting down his glass with a flourish. “Come on, wifey!” he says, grabbing your hand and pulling you up,.“Get up! Come on, let’s dance.”

You laugh, a little unsteady on your feet, but you let him lead you to the small, crowded dance floor. He spins you around with a dramatic flair, earning a few amused glances from the other patrons, but you don’t care. Tonight, it’s just the two of you, and the rest of the world feels miles away.

Satoru moves with an unexpected grace, his movements loose and free. He’s not a bad dancer—in fact, he’s surprisingly good, his body swaying in rhythm with the music. You let yourself be pulled close, your hands resting on his shoulders as he guides you through the steps, his laughter bright and infectious.

“You’re actually good at this, Satoru.” you tease, your head spinning slightly, not just from the drinks but from the way he looks at you—like you’re the only person in the room.

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “I have many hidden talents, always!” he whispers, his tone low and teasing. “But this, wifey….” he continues, his hands sliding down to rest at the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. “This is my favorite one.”

You can’t help the giggle that escapes you, and Satoru’s grin widens. The two of you continue dancing, moving in sync, the music carrying you along, your bodies pressed close, swaying with the rhythm. The alcohol has made you both bolder, and you feel his hands tighten on your waist, his touch firm yet gentle.

Your heart races as his face draws closer, his lips brushing your ear. “You know, wifey….” he murmurs, his voice low, “I don’t usually do this—drinking and dancing like an idiot.”

You smile, leaning into his touch. “I know you don’t.” you reply softly, your hands moving to rest on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. “But I’m glad you’re doing it with me.”

He chuckles, his lips brushing against your cheek. “Me too.”

And then, without warning, he leans in and kisses you—a deep, lingering kiss that sends a shiver down your spine. His mouth is warm and insistent, moving against yours with a fervor that catches you off guard, and for a moment, you forget where you are, lost in the sensation of his lips, his hands, the way he’s pulling you closer as if he never wants to let go.

You kiss him back, your fingers tangling in his hair, and he groans softly, his grip on you tightening. The world around you blurs, and it’s just the two of you, kissing like you’re the only people in the universe. His hands slide up your back, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, sending sparks of electricity shooting through you.

“God, you taste good,” he mutters against your mouth, his voice husky, and you feel a surge of heat pool in your stomach. You press yourself closer to him, your body molding against his, and his breath hitches, a low growl rumbling from his chest.

“Satoru, baby.” you whisper, your voice breathy, and he kisses you again, harder this time, his hands roaming your back, his touch growing bolder with every passing second. You can feel his heart pounding against yours, his breath hot and fast, and your own pulse quickens in response.

“Let’s get out of here, wifey.” he murmurs, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze dark with desire.

You nod, your breath coming in short, excited bursts. “Yeah….let’s go.” you whisper back, feeling the same burning need coursing through you.

He grabs your hand, his grip firm and steady, and you both make a quick exit from the bar, laughter bubbling between you as you stumble into the cool night air. The streets of Paris are quiet now, the city settling into the late hours, but you hardly notice or rather, you could scarcely care. You were too far gone in cloud nine to care.

Your husband Satoru pulls you close again, his lips finding yours with a renewed intensity, and you’re lost in him once more, the taste of him, the feel of his hands on your body, the way he’s holding you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

You barely make it back to the hotel, your kisses growing more heated, more desperate, with each step. By the time you reach your room, Satoru’s hands are tangled in your hair, his lips moving down your neck, and you’re breathless with want, your fingers tugging at his shirt.

He fumbles with the key, cursing under his breath, and you laugh, breathless, helping him steady his hands. When the door finally swings open, he pulls you inside, kicking it shut behind you, and his mouth is on yours again, hot and demanding.

You push him back against the wall, your hands roaming his chest, and he lets out a low, pleased hum, his fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt, sliding up your sides, making you shiver. “I’ve wanted this, wifey.” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. “ I just wanted you so bad… for so long.”

Your response is a quiet moan as his lips find yours again, his hands pulling you even closer, and you know, in this moment, that this is exactly where you want to be—wrapped up in his arms, feeling his heartbeat against yours, letting the world outside fade away until it’s just the two of you, lost in each other, in Paris, under the spell of the night.

The room is dimly lit, the curtains drawn, and the air is thick with the heat of your bodies. Satoru’s breath comes out in ragged gasps, his head thrown back against the pillows, his hair splayed out in a mess of white strands. He grips the sheets beneath him tightly, his knuckles white with the force, and his chest rises and falls with every sharp inhale.

“God……..” he groans, voice low and breathless, the sound of it echoing in the small space. His eyes are half-lidded, darkened with lust, but there’s a softness there too, a look of wonder as he gazes down at you.

You move against him with purpose, your mouth warm and soft, sliding up and down his length with a rhythm that has his hips bucking up slightly, desperate for more. Your tongue swirls around him, and he gasps, the sound breaking into a quiet moan, his hands reaching for you, fingers tangling in your hair.

“Feels so good, wifey.” he slurs, his voice thick and heavy with pleasure. “Fuck… you’re so perfect.” He can barely keep his eyes open, his head rolling back against the pillow, his body taut with tension, the pleasure building in waves that crash over him again and again.

You hum softly, the vibration sending a shiver through him, and his fingers tighten in your hair, his breath catching in his throat. “Oh, right there….” he gasps, his voice breaking. “Don’t… don’t stop.”

You don’t. You keep going, moving with a deliberate slowness that has him trembling beneath you, his entire body responding to every flick of your tongue, every gentle scrape of your teeth. He’s never felt like this—so completely undone, so out of control. And yet he’s never felt more alive, more connected, more in love than he does right now, with you.

His hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin, and he looks at you, his eyes searching yours. “I—” he starts, but his voice catches, and he swallows hard, trying to steady himself. “I love you, baby.” he whispers, the words spilling out of him in a rush, as if he can’t keep them in any longer.

You pause for just a second, your eyes meeting his, and the intensity of his gaze takes your breath away. There’s so much there—desire, adoration, fear, and a kind of raw, aching need that makes your heart stutter in your chest.

Then you smile, just a little, your lips curling around him, and you take him in deeper, drawing a ragged moan from his throat. He bucks up again, his grip on the sheets tightening as he feels that familiar coil of heat tightening in his stomach, building and building with every movement, every sensation.

“Ah… I can’t—” he chokes out, his breath hitching, his body trembling with the effort to hold back. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna—”

And then he’s gone, his head tipping back, a guttural moan tearing from his lips as he comes undone, the pleasure crashing over him in a wave so intense he feels like he might just shatter. His whole body tenses, his hips jerking up as he spills into your mouth, his eyes squeezing shut as the world blurs around him.

For a moment, everything is silent, save for the sound of his heavy breathing, his chest heaving with the effort. He feels like he’s floating, his body weightless, his mind blank except for the overwhelming sensation of you, your warmth, your touch, your love.

When he finally comes back to himself, he looks down at you, his eyes still hazy, a small, satisfied smile tugging at his lips. “Holy shit.” he breathes out, his voice shaky, and he lets out a weak laugh, his fingers still tangled in your hair. “That… that was incredible.”

You lean up, crawling up his body to press a kiss to his lips, and he kisses you back, slow and sweet, his hand cupping your cheek as if he can’t quite believe you’re real. “You’re incredible,” he murmurs against your mouth, his other hand trailing down your back, pulling you closer.

You smile against his lips, feeling the rapid beat of his heart against your chest, the way he’s still trembling slightly from the aftershocks of his release. “I think we’re just getting started, aren’t we?” you whisper, your voice low and teasing.

He grins, his eyes bright with excitement and affection. “Oh, I hope so.” he replies, his voice filled with promise, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. “Because I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

And as he pulls you back down into another kiss, deep and slow, you feel it too—the certainty that whatever comes next, you’re ready for it. Together.

Satoru's grin softens as he looks at you, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. His eyes are filled with something tender and deep, a look that makes your heart swell with affection.

He leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, languid kiss that seems to say everything he can't put into words. His hands are gentle as they explore your body, tracing every curve, every line, as if memorizing you by touch alone.

He pulls back slightly, his lips barely an inch from yours, his breath hot against your skin. “You’re amazing, you know that?” he whispers, his voice low and full of emotion. "And tonight… Tonight is all about you."

You shiver at his words, a thrill running down your spine. His hands slide down your sides, settling on your hips, and he shifts you gently, guiding you onto your back. He hovers over you, his body warm and solid against yours, and you can feel the heat radiating from him, his desire palpable in the air between you.

He takes his time, his lips trailing kisses down your neck, his mouth hot and soft as he moves lower, tasting your skin. Every kiss sends a jolt of electricity through you, your breath catching in your throat as his mouth finds all the places that make you sigh, that make you arch against him.

His hands are everywhere—gentle yet insistent, roaming over your body, touching, caressing, exploring. His mouth follows, leaving a trail of heat in its wake, his lips brushing over your collarbone, down the valley between your breasts, until you’re gasping, your fingers tangling in his hair, urging him on.

“Please, Satoru…” you whisper, your voice a soft, needy plea.

He smiles against your skin, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Patience, baby.” he murmurs, his voice teasing but thick with need. “I want to make this last… make you feel good.”

He continues his descent, his kisses growing more heated, more purposeful. His mouth moves lower still, down your stomach, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin, and you feel your breath hitch, your body trembling with anticipation. His hands part your thighs, his touch firm but gentle, and you feel your heart start to race, your pulse pounding in your ears.

He glances up at you, his blue eyes dark and filled with a mixture of mischief and adoration. “Just relax, baby.” he whispers, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, making you gasp. “Let your loving husband take care of you.”

And then his mouth is on you, his tongue moving with a slow, deliberate precision that has you moaning his name, your hips lifting off the bed as pleasure sparks through you like wildfire.

He doesn’t rush—he takes his time, tasting you, teasing you, his hands gripping your thighs, keeping you in place as he brings you to the brink over and over again.

You’re lost in the sensation, your head falling back against the pillows, your fingers gripping the sheets as he works you over with his mouth, his tongue moving in ways that make your toes curl, that send you spiraling into a state of pure, unadulterated bliss.

“Satoru, please!” you cry out, your voice breaking, and he hums against you, the vibration sending another jolt of pleasure through you.

“Mm, that’s it.” he murmurs, his voice muffled but full of satisfaction. “Let go for me… I want to feel you come.”

His words are like a command, and you feel yourself falling, tumbling over the edge as pleasure crashes over you in waves, your body arching against his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him against you as you come, crying out his name.

But he doesn’t stop. He keeps going, his mouth relentless, his tongue flicking and curling, drawing out every last bit of pleasure from you until you’re shaking, your breath coming in ragged gasps, your body trembling with aftershocks.

“Again, baby.” he whispers, his voice dark and filled with want. “I want to hear you scream my name again.”

And you do—again and again. He doesn’t let up, doesn’t give you a moment to recover before he’s building you up again, his fingers joining his mouth, pressing into you with a rhythm that matches the beat of your racing heart. His thumb finds that perfect spot, rubbing circles that make your vision blur, and you’re gone again, crying out, your body clenching around him, your mind blank with pleasure.

You lose count of how many times he makes you come, each one more intense than the last, each wave of pleasure crashing over you like a storm, pulling you deeper and deeper into a sea of sensation. You’re breathless, your body spent, and yet he keeps going, determined to wring every last bit of pleasure from you, to make you feel as cherished and adored as he possibly can.

When you finally collapse against the sheets, your body trembling, your skin slick with sweat, he crawls up to meet you, his lips capturing yours in a soft, tender kiss, his hands gentle as they cradle your face.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers against your mouth, his voice filled with awe, his breath warm against your lips. “I could spend the rest of my life making you feel like this.”

You smile, your heart swelling with love, and you pull him close, kissing him deeply, letting him know without words that you feel the same. Because in this moment, with him, you’ve never felt more alive, more loved, more complete.

Satoru’s breath hitches when he feels you shift beneath him, the soft, unintentional grind of your hips against his sending a jolt of electricity straight through him. He bites back a moan, his fingers tightening on your hips instinctively, his eyes squeezing shut for a brief moment as he tries to maintain some semblance of control.

God, the way you affect him—how effortlessly you make his heart race, his breath catch, his body respond like this—it’s like you have a power over him that goes far beyond anything he’s ever known. He’s already hard, painfully so, and the thin fabric of his uniform pants does little to hide his need, the friction almost too much to bear.

“S-Shit…..” he mutters, his voice low and strained, and he swallows hard, trying to catch his breath. He hadn’t expected this, hadn’t expected you to move like that, hadn’t expected the sheer intensity of his reaction.

He wants to touch you, to hold you, to be buried deep inside you, but he’s almost afraid to move, afraid that if he does, he’ll lose what little control he has left.

You shift again, and his hips jerk forward involuntarily, a broken moan escaping his lips as he presses against you, feeling your warmth, your softness, even through the layers of fabric. It’s too much, and yet not enough, and he feels like he’s going to lose his mind.

“God, baby.” he breathes out, his voice trembling, his fingers digging into your skin as he fights to hold himself back. “You have no idea… what you do to me.”

He’s desperate, his body aching with need, his mind a haze of lust and longing, but he’s also so full of love, of adoration, that it takes his breath away. He wants you—he wants you more than he’s ever wanted anything—but he also wants to savor this, to make it last, to make sure you feel just as good as he does.

He grinds against you again, more deliberately this time, and he lets out a low, shuddering breath, his forehead dropping to rest against yours. “I’m… I’m sorry, baby.” he whispers, his voice barely more than a breath. “I can’t… I can’t stop myself.”

His hands move to your waist, fingers splaying out over your skin, and he begins to move against you, his hips rolling in a slow, steady rhythm, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through his veins. He can feel you beneath him, feel the heat of your body, the way you respond to his every touch, his every movement, and it drives him wild.

He presses his mouth against yours, kissing you with a hunger that matches the desperation in his movements, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, tasting you, devouring you. His hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips, and he tugs you closer, pulling you against him, needing more, needing everything.

“I… I need you. Need you so bad.” he murmurs against your lips, his voice breaking, raw and filled with longing. “I need to feel you… all of you.”

He shifts his weight slightly, his hands fumbling with the waistband of his pants, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps as he struggles to free himself. He’s too impatient, too needy, and he lets out a frustrated groan, his fingers trembling as he finally manages to shove his pants down just enough to release his aching length.

He’s rock-hard, the tip of his cock already leaking with precum, and he groans again as he presses against you, the heat of your body sending another wave of pleasure crashing through him.

“Please, baby.” he whispers, his voice desperate, his hips grinding against you, “I can’t… I can’t wait anymore.”

You arch against him, your hands sliding up to his shoulders, your fingers digging into his skin, and he moans, his eyes fluttering shut as he feels the head of his cock brush against your entrance.

He’s trembling, his whole body taut with need, and he can barely think, barely breathe, all he knows is that he wants you, needs you, more than anything. He presses forward slowly, carefully, his breath catching in his throat as he feels you envelop him, inch by inch, the tight, wet heat of you driving him to the brink of madness.

“Fuck… you feel… so good....” he groans, his hips pressing forward, sliding deeper inside you, and he can’t stop the shudder that runs through him, the overwhelming sensation of finally being inside you, of being this close, this connected.

He starts with deliberate slowness, his thrusts shallow and gentle, as if testing the boundaries of your shared connection. His breath catches, and you can feel the tension in his body, how he's holding back, savoring the sensation of being so close to you.

The warmth of him inside you, the way your bodies fit together so seamlessly, sends a shiver through you. Your legs instinctively tighten around him, pulling him deeper, and that's when you hear it—a low, guttural growl from deep within his chest.

The sound is raw, primal, a reflection of his desire, and it sends a jolt of electricity through your entire body. His restraint begins to crumble. He thrusts harder, his hips snapping against yours with growing intensity, and each movement feels more urgent, more desperate. His hands, once tender on your waist, now grip you with fervor, pulling you closer, as if he can’t get enough of you.

The pace quickens, his need spilling out in every motion. He’s relentless, each thrust filled with a hunger to make you feel the same pleasure that's overtaking him. You can hear the labored breaths escaping his lips, see the fire in his eyes as they lock onto yours. His voice, hoarse and trembling with emotion, breaks the silence between you.

“God… I love you.” he gasps, barely able to form the words between ragged breaths. His rhythm becomes frenzied, driven by the overwhelming sensation of being with you in this moment.

“I love you… so much… so fucking much,” he groans, his voice thick with passion. Each declaration is a pulse of raw emotion, his need to show you, to let you feel every ounce of his love, pouring out of him.

His movements, once careful and measured, have become wild and uncontrollable, driven by the depth of his feelings. Every thrust is a a call to his desire, every gasp a confession of how deeply he’s fallen for you.

His pace becomes frantic, a blend of raw need and overwhelming affection. Every movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, the intensity of his desire matching your own.

His hands roam from your waist to your hips, gripping tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as if he's afraid to let go—afraid that this moment might slip away if he doesn’t hold you close enough.

The sound of your bodies moving together fills the air, the room heavy with heat and tension. You feel the build-up of pleasure rising within you, matching the urgency of his thrusts.

His gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips, and there’s something almost vulnerable in the way he looks at you, as if his every feeling, his every thought, is laid bare in this moment.

His breath comes in ragged gasps, each one catching as his need grows more intense. The sensation of you wrapped around him, the way your body responds to his every touch, only fuels him further.

He lowers his head to press his lips against your neck, kissing a trail from your collarbone up to your jaw, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

"I can't… get enough of you," he murmurs against your skin, his voice shaky, consumed by the pleasure coursing through him. "You're everything… everything I need."

His words are laced with both desperation and adoration, the weight of his feelings crashing over him. With each thrust, you can feel how close he is to the edge, but he holds on, wanting to prolong this moment with you, to savor every second.

His hands grip your thighs now, pulling you even closer, the friction between you igniting sparks of pleasure that ripple through every nerve.

The pressure inside you builds, coiling tighter and tighter as he moves. His name falls from your lips in a breathless whisper, your body arching into him, and he groans in response, the sound reverberating deep within his chest.

It’s as if the world outside of this moment ceases to exist. All you can feel is him—his heat, his breath, the weight of his love for you driving him to move faster, harder.

“I’m so close, baby.” he gasps, his voice cracking as he struggles to hold on just a little longer, his body trembling with restraint. His eyes meet yours again, and the look in them is nothing short of devotion. “I need you… I need you to come with me.”

And with those words, everything inside you unravels. The release hits you like a tidal wave, crashing over you in wave after wave of pleasure, leaving you breathless and trembling beneath him. He follows soon after, his body tensing as he lets out a guttural moan, his hips stuttering as he finally lets go, the force of his climax overwhelming him.

For a moment, neither of you move, the air between you thick with the afterglow of what you’ve just shared. His body rests against yours, both of you spent, your hearts beating in sync as you catch your breath.

══════════════════

epilogue

In the cozy living room of your home, Gojo Satoru sat on the floor with your son, Satoshi, sprawled out in front of him, surrounded by toys and colorful blocks.

The afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room. Satoru was trying to entertain Satoshi with a game of building blocks, but the little boy’s curiosity took an unexpected turn.

Satoshi looked up at Satoru, his big, innocent eyes full of questions. “Papa, papa!” he asked, “How was ‘toshi born?”

Satoru’s eyes widened, and he froze mid-block placement, the toy car in his hand almost slipping out. He glanced around, searching for a way to divert the conversation, but Satoshi was looking at him with unwavering expectation.

Satoru cleared his throat, his mind racing back to that unforgettable honeymoon in Paris and maybe a little after that…..you know, there’s been a lot and he just….he doesn’t know how and where things had become a bit… complicated. He doesn’t really count.

“Well, my little dawn…baby, you see…” Satoru began, trying to sound as casual as possible, “A lot of it is just…. it’s a bit of a… long story.”

Satoshi tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. “A long story? Like when we go to Grandma’s house?”

Satoru nodded, his mind still floundering for the right words. “Exactly like that, but, um, with more… magic.”

Satoshi’s eyes widened, and he leaned closer. “Magic? Did you use your special powers?”

Satoru scratched the back of his head, trying to remember if there was a way to explain this that didn’t involve any, ahem, explicit details. “Well, it’s more like… a magical moment, little dawn.” he said, smiling nervously. “Because well….magic is magic!”

Satoshi looked thoughtful, then blinked. “Was it like when you make the cookies disappear?”

Satoru’s face turned a shade of red, and he tried to stifle a laugh. He doesn’t know how he was supposed to do this at all. “Uh, not exactly. More like… a really happy time when mama and papa were together, and, uh, we decided to have more family for big brother Megumi and big sister Tsumiki, you know?”

Satoshi nodded slowly, his tiny brow furrowing as he considered this. “So, you made cookies disappear and that’s how I got here?”

Satoru chuckled, a little relieved that Satoshi seemed satisfied with the vague explanation. “Sort of, yes. It’s a special kind of magic that’s, um, a bit different from making cookies disappear.”

Satoshi pondered this for a moment, then brightened. “Okay! Can we build a magic castle now?”

Satoru laughed, feeling a wave of relief. “Absolutely, let’s build the biggest magic castle ever!”

As Satoru helped Satoshi with the blocks, he couldn’t help but think that he had successfully dodged a bullet—or at least, he hoped he had. He glanced at the photo of you on the mantel and grinned, knowing that despite the complexities of parenthood, there were some things best left to the imagination.

When you arrived home, the late afternoon light was still spilling into the living room, casting a golden hue over the scene. You found Satoru and Satoshi surrounded by a sprawling fortress of colorful blocks, the little boy’s face alight with triumph as he declared his castle complete.

“Mama!” Satoshi called out, running over to greet you with his usual enthusiasm. “Look at the magic castle Papa and I built!”

You smiled, bending down to give him a hug. “It’s beautiful, Satoshi! I’m so proud of you.”

Satoru stood up, brushing the dust off his pants with a sheepish grin. He looked slightly relieved to see you, and he met your eyes with a hint of nervousness. You looked at him with curious eyes as he tried to take a deep breath. It was as though he was preparing himself to tell you something.

“Hey, baby.” you said, raising an eyebrow at him as you moved towards the kitchen. “How was your day with Satoshi?”

Satoru followed you, his expression a mix of amusement and apprehension. “It was good, but we had a little… conversation.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? About what?”

Satoru scratched the back of his neck, his face turning a bit red. “Well, Satoshi asked me how he was born….well, like not born. How…how he was made?”

You froze mid-step, your eyes widening as you looked at him. “Oh, really? And how did you handle that?”

Satoru let out a nervous chuckle. “I tried to explain it with… magic. I told him it was like a special kind of magic and that it happened when mama and papa decided to have a family.”

You stifled a laugh, trying to keep a straight face. “Did he buy that?”

Satoru shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed. “Sort of. He thought it was like making cookies disappear, so I went along with it.”

You burst out laughing, shaking your head.You couldn’t stop to the point you were coughing. Satoru blushed, even his ears were red. “Cookies? That’s one way to put it.”

Satoru looked relieved to see you find the humor in the situation. “Yeah, I guess. He seemed satisfied, so I think we dodged a bullet.”

You walked over to Satoshi, who was now engrossed in a new block creation. You crouched down next to him, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “Satoshi, did papa tell you a magic story?”

Satoshi nodded eagerly, his eyes shining. “Yes! And we built a magic castle! Papa said it’s like magic cookies!”

You glanced at Satoru, who was trying to suppress a grin. “Well, that sounds like a fun story.”

Satoru walked over, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I think we managed to keep things light, but I’m glad you’re home to handle the next round of questions.”

You laughed, leaning into him. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it. And next time, maybe we’ll keep the magic cookies out of the explanation.”

Satoru grinned, pulling you into a gentle hug. “Deal. Thanks for saving me from my own magical misadventures.”

You both chuckled, watching as Satoshi continued his block building, blissfully unaware of the parental confusion that had preceded his masterpiece.

[cheriladycl01]

Kinktober 14/10/2024 Fernando Alonso - Marking

Plot: Fernando has to make everyone know who you belong to by marking what is his … all these young boys on the grid wouldn’t know how to handle a lady like you anyway.

Warnings: Kinktober, SMUT, Marking, Hickies, biting, hand prints, p in v, slapping, fingering age-gap of 11 years, 18+ Minors DNI

Fernando had to make sure that everyone knew you were his and that you did in fact belong to him. There wasn’t a question about it, to him and you anyway but whenever you were around the paddock no-one could quite believe a young and influential celebrity like yourself was dating … him.

Nobody had an issue with it, 11 years as an age gap at the ages of 32 and 43 wasn’t that much at this age. The older you both got the less of an issue it became.

However, mechanics weren’t shy in the F1 world and were very very happy to talk to you when you were around in the garage or hospitality suites. A lot of the me the conversations remained polite and you were very intrigued by everything that went into an F1 team and how everyone did certain things to help the team get the best result possible.

But Fernando always seemed to walk in on rather out of context moments, just little comments from the mechanics and engineers that he’d walk in on and because of their nature a scowl would remain on his face for the rest of the day.

After a long day of FP3, qualifying and all the media duties on the side he took you back to the hotel you were all staying at with Aston Martin. You could tell the minute you guys got out the car he wasn’t happy. His hand was on the smell of your back guiding you to the lift and as you got there his hand drifted round the side to your waist, pulling you closer to him.

As the lift doors shut and it started going up, his grip on your hip only got tighter. He pinned you to the wall of the lift, leaving you no room as he kisses and nibbled up the exposed part of the neck. He was happy you guys were in Italy and that it was hot because all tomorrow you’d wear a pretty sundress that he knew everyone would be able to see what you’d both done tonight on you.

He kept kissing making little purple bruises all along your collarbone and neck. There was so many and he knew he’d make more once you got into his room.

He twisted your head to the side to look at the state of your neck in the mirror, your chin tilted up as he locked eyes at you in the mirror, still against your neck, nibbling and kissing away. He was obsessed.

The minute he got you in the hotel room, he was so much worse, on your like a dog in an instant kissing all over your face lightly as he parts your legs open, hitching the maxi skirt you’d worn today up to your hip.

“So pretty hermosa” he grins.

He practically tore your underwear off and his fingers were dipping into your heat beofre you could even look down to see what his plan was. Your gripped his forearm your mouth parting slightly at the feeling of his thick fingers stretching you out. You moan his name.

It sounded so loud, ludicrous, pornographic? You couldn’t tell but you knew it wasn’t a sound you wanted anyone else from the Aston Martin team to hear. Out of instinct, you but down into his arm. Not enough to hurt him, but enough to muffle the noises you were making.

“That’s it, tell everyone that you belong to me, and that I belong to you baby. Show them” he groans as his fingers scissor inside the deepest part of you that he can reach a happy sigh coming from you mouth before you unsink your teeth.

“It’s only ever going to be you” you moan at before your shaking around his fingers as he helps you through your high, still thrusting his fingers in and out.

Your grip his arm, your legs still shaking from your orgasm as you breath out trying to stop the low little pants coming out from your mouth.

He pulls his fingers out with a pop sucking them clean. He then kisses your clit, your hand coming to his head at the overstimulation as you moan. He travels his way up biting and nibbling all along your hip bone before going up to his favourite place to mark.

“They just sit so pretty” he groans licking over a hardened nipple before going around the frost of your actual boob, creating red and purple marks that have you wining and moaning for me.

“Come on baby, wanna feel you so bad. On your knees that’s it good girl, just a good girl aren’t you for daddy” he moans as you quickly turn over, so your on your elbows and knees presenting yourself to him.

He positions himself behind you, a vice grip on your hips. He slowly pushes his way into you, you can feel every different but if his dick scrapping against your tight walls, the stretch causing the loudest moan of the night just as he bottoms out.

He stays still for a while before he tightens his grip, knowing full well his hand prints will probably be there from his tight it was.

He started of slow building himself up until he was pounding in and out of you with so much vigor you wouldn’t think this was a 40 old year old man.

You could barley speak from how much please was coursing through your body, it was a feeling like no other to the point where your orgasm came on so suddenly that you couldn’t even tell Fernando that you were.

The only warning he got was you clenching around him beofre he could feel your juices drip down onto the sheets as you squirted. The tightest had him follow shortly after, with one final thrust burying himself deep in your walls and his hips stuttering as he did.

He helps you rolls over once he’s pulled out so your laying on your back on the bed.

“Your so fucking beautiful, and all mine. Everyone will see these tomorrow in that little dress of yours. Everyone will know how good I treat you” he tells you and all you can do is nod and cuddle into him. Unable to have words after what you’d just done.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[rootedinrevisions]

Kinktober 2024: Day 27

CHARACTER: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

KINK: Breeding Kink

WORD COUNT: 2.5K

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. SMUT (P in V), Cussing/Language (Use of “F” word)

TAG LIST: @missmarveledsblog I @shanimallina87 I @fore45fore I @cardi-bre91 I @lonelysoul50

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists or be tagged for a specific character please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell (himself and the characters he's played)

Twisters (Mostly Tyler right now, but possibly others soon)

Top Gun: Maverick (Hangman, Rooster, possibly others soon)

Marvel / MCU (Bucky Barnes as of now, but possibly others soon)

WWE / Wrestling

Bradley finds himself watching you more than mingling as the baby shower progresses. The room is full of joyful chatter, gifts wrapped in pastel paper, and the aroma of vanilla and lavender candles, but his focus is locked on you. You’re at the center of the room with your sister, your head bent close to hers as you laugh over something only the two of you understand. 

It’s in moments like these that he sees another side of you—your gentle, nurturing side that glows as you rest a hand over your sister’s belly, feeling a slight kick beneath your fingertips. The look on your face as you speak to your sister, the way you beam at her when she talks about her baby, stirs something unexpected in Bradley. 

He’d never thought much about the specifics of starting a family, assuming the two of you would get there whenever you were ready, but seeing you this way, so tender and at ease, starts planting a longing he hadn’t realized he’d been carrying. 

You’d be such a good mom, he thinks, warmth spreading through his chest. He wonders what it would be like to see you like this every day, to have his hand over your stomach, feeling his child kick beneath your skin.

His heart beats a little faster when someone places a baby—a friend's newborn son—into your arms. He watches the way your smile softens as you hold the baby close, rocking him gently with the kind of ease that only comes naturally. Bradley feels a pang of longing seeing the baby’s tiny hand curl around your thumb as if the child senses the comfort of your touch. The sight is overwhelming, filling him with the kind of ache that only grows the longer he watches. The idea of you, cradling yours and his baby in your arms, swells in his mind, vivid and powerful.

His eyes follow you around the room as you move from guest to guest, still holding the baby, the two of you looking so natural together that he can’t help but smile. It’s a feeling that’s both new and yet feels like it’s always been there, lingering beneath the surface. 

The image of you, pregnant and glowing, keeps replaying in his mind, and he finds himself thinking about what it would be like to share that journey with you—to see you carrying his child, to witness you transform, glowing in a way only motherhood can bring.

He takes a deep breath, overwhelmed by how much he wants this, how right it feels. He’s always known he wanted a life with you, but today, he’s starting to see what that life might actually look like. 

The thought is so consuming that even after the shower ends, as you both climb into the car, he’s still quiet, his mind buzzing with images of a future that’s suddenly so clear, so real, it’s almost tangible.

Later that evening you’re both unwinding in the soft glow of evening, the living room filled with the quiet comfort of just being together. You’re nestled against Bradley on the couch, his arm draped around you, fingers tracing small circles along your shoulder as you lay your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat—a familiar rhythm that always brings you a sense of peace. It’s the kind of evening you both cherish, just the two of you, cocooned in each other’s warmth and laughter, away from the noise of the outside world.

Bradley shifts slightly, bringing his hand down to rest against your stomach, his touch lingering there with a tenderness that makes you smile. You look up at him, noticing the thoughtful expression on his face, and give him a curious smile. 

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Bradshaw?” you tease, nudging him lightly.

He gives a small, almost shy smile, his hand still resting on your stomach as his thumb brushes back and forth. 

“Just… thinking,” he murmurs, his voice soft and warm. 

His eyes lift to meet yours, and there’s a look in them you recognize—love, yes, but something deeper, a yearning that feels almost tangible. 

His hand presses just a little more firmly against your stomach, his gaze softening as he whispers, “I was just thinking… about what it would be like if you were pregnant.”

The words settle between you, and there’s an undeniable spark in his eyes that sends a thrill through you. You reach up, brushing a hand through his hair and giving him an affectionate smile. 

“Yeah?” you say softly, your own heart beginning to race as you take in the gentle, almost reverent way he’s looking at you.

He nods, his hand still resting on your stomach, and you can see how the thought has stirred something in him, his gaze becoming more intense. 

“You’d be so beautiful,” he whispers, a note of awe in his voice. “The idea of seeing you with a bump, knowing our baby is growing there, it… it makes me want this with you, more than anything.”

Your fingers lace through his, encouraging him as he inches closer, his other hand gently caressing your cheek. In that moment, the love and anticipation shared between you feels almost electric, filling the room as you nod, letting him know just how much you want this, too.

“Then let’s make it happen,” you whisper, and the words seem to ignite something in Bradley. 

He smiles, leaning down to kiss you softly at first, and then with a deeper intensity as he gathers you in his arms. Effortlessly, he lifts you from the couch, holding you close as he carries you to the bedroom, the unspoken promise shared between you filling the air.

Bradley lays you down on the bed with such gentleness, as though he’s savoring each moment with you. His gaze is fixed on you, dark with desire yet tender, filled with love that makes your heart flutter. 

Slowly, he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then another to your lips, lingering as his hands begin to move down, taking their time as they slip beneath the fabric of your shirt. With a slow, deliberate motion, he pulls your shirt up and over your head, his eyes roaming over you with unspoken admiration. 

He trails kisses down your neck, his hands finding the bare skin of your waist, thumbs brushing lightly as if already imagining what it would feel like when it’s rounded, growing with the life you’ll share. "

You’ll look so beautiful, you know that?" he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “I can already picture it, that glow you’ll have… knowing I put our baby there.”

He moves lower, pressing his lips to your collarbone, his hands warm and steady as he slides them down your sides, slowly undressing you piece by piece, each movement filled with reverence. His lips follow the path of his hands, planting gentle kisses along your skin, exploring every inch as though he’s memorizing it. 

He whispers in awe, “I can already see it… the way you’ll look carrying a part of us. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more.” The soft pressure of his mouth reaches your stomach, and he pauses there, pressing his palm lightly against it. “Just thinking about you like that…” he trails off, his words coming out as a whisper. 

His hands hold you with such gentle strength, grounding you in his touch as he leans up, his eyes meeting yours with a spark that leaves you breathless.

He brushes his lips over yours once more, his hand never leaving your waist. 

“I want this,” he murmurs, his voice rough and sincere. “You, me, a family. And tonight… I want to start making that happen.” His words, filled with promise, bring an overwhelming sense of warmth as he draws you close again, his movements slow and intimate, his touch conveying everything words can’t.

Bradley's lips capture yours again, slow and tender, as if he's savoring every second of this moment. His hands slide up, tracing the curve of your waist, then down, leaving a warm trail that feels like it’s lingering in your skin. His touch is reverent, his kisses unhurried, and the intimacy between you fills the room, making every breath feel thicker, every heartbeat more profound.

He kisses a line along your jaw, then down your neck, his lips trailing lower with purpose, each kiss more heated than the last. When he reaches your stomach again, he pauses, his fingertips brushing over the skin in a way that sends chills through you.

“I love the idea of you like this,” he murmurs softly, as though the thought itself is a secret meant only for you. “I want everyone to know you're carrying something so… so perfectly ours.”

The sincerity in his voice stirs something deep inside you, and as his gaze locks with yours, you feel his love in its purest form—unfiltered, vulnerable, and full of longing. He leans down once more, kissing your stomach like it’s a promise, and his hands move with careful, deliberate motions, undressing you fully until there's nothing between you.

His lips travel back up, tasting, exploring, leaving no part of you untouched, as if he’s determined to make this moment last. With each whispered thought—“You’re going to be the most beautiful mother,” “I love you more than anything”—he draws you in further, making you feel as if nothing in the world could compare to this closeness, this connection.

Finally, his hands rest on either side of your face, thumbs brushing softly along your cheekbones as he meets your eyes. “Are you ready?” he asks, his voice a mixture of tenderness and anticipation, and the way he looks at you makes your heart race.

His fingers lace through yours, and he presses your hands down into the sheets gently, anchoring you as he continues to kiss you slowly, purposefully. His eyes, filled with both warmth and intensity, never leave yours, as if he’s trying to memorize every reaction, every part of this moment with you.

He slowly starts to push into you. You immediately feel the stretch as he slides himself further and further into you. He moves slowly, pressing kisses to your shoulder as he tries to be gentle with you. 

But it’s taking everything in him not to move faster so he can fill you with his cum as fast as possible. Once he’s all the way in he stills for a moment, and his free hand finds its way back to your stomach, tracing gentles circles, as if envisioning what he’s hoping to creat with you.

He lets out a soft, husky chuckle, his breath hot against your ear. “I can’t stop thinking about it… you, with that glow, looking so incredible, knowing there’s a part of us growing right here,” he murmurs, his hand pressing tenderly over your stomach.

You smile, caught up in his words, feeling the sincerity in each one. “You really want this, huh?” You whisper more a statement than a question, your voice soft with wonder.

He looks at you, his eyes tender but filled with longing. “More than anything,” he says. “I want everything with you. I want every moment, every memory… every dream.” 

His lips brush yours again, sending shivers through you as he deepens the kiss, his desire tangible, wrapping you both in its warmth.

“Then give it to me, babe. Put a baby in me, Bradley.”

You hear his breath hitch in his throat before he slides out and then thrusts into you. His forehead is pressed to yours, his breath warm and ragged as his hips begin to quicken their pace.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans as his hips drive into you with a little more urgency now.

He lets go of your hands and your nails move down his back, grasping at him, needing him closer, deeper, as if you can’t get enough of him. He grunts at the feeling, his muscles tightening under your nails and fingertips. But it only drives him harder, his hips pushing harder against yours.

Bradley’s touch is everywhere—hands caressing, fingers threading through yours, his lips trailing soft kisses over your skin. 

You feel your body nearing the edge, every sensation heightened as he leans close, his mouth brushing your ear, whispering softly, “I’ve got you, baby. Just let go for me.” 

His words, filled with such desire and love, send you over the edge, your entire body shivering as he holds you through it, grounding you with his warmth. Moments later, you feel him shudder, his grip tightening as he follows you, his breathing ragged, his lips finding yours in a tender kiss that seals the moment.

Afterward, Bradley wraps his arms around you, holding you close as your breaths gradually slow together. His hands move gently, tracing soft circles along your back and shoulders, grounding you in his embrace. 

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as he whispers, “You okay, sweetheart?” His voice is low and tender, full of love and care.

You nod, a soft smile spreading across your lips as you melt into his warmth. “I’m perfect,” you murmur, running your fingers lazily along his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your touch.

Bradley continues to hold you, his hand now resting on your stomach, his thumb making slow, soothing strokes as if reassuring you—and himself—of the connection you’ve just shared. 

“You know…” he begins, his voice barely above a whisper, “I meant everything I said, about wanting to have a baby with you. About wanting us to start a family. But…if you’re not ready, we can go to the pharmacy. Get a Plan B or whatever you need.” He hesitates like he’s trying to give you space to think without pressure, though his fingers still linger on your skin as if he can’t bring himself to pull away.

You reach for his hand on your stomach, intertwining your fingers with his as you turn to face him fully. “Bradley, I don’t want Plan B,” you murmur, your tone soft but steady. “If you’re taking me to the pharmacy, it’s to buy an ovulation kit and a pregnancy test—so we can know exactly when it’s the best time for this. I love you, Bradley. And I want this too. I want this with you!”

He smiles back, his face lighting up as he pulls you closer. “I love you too,” he says, his voice filled with quiet reverence. “Can’t wait to see you with that big beautiful bump, and don’t even get me started on what these are going to look like,” he teases as his hand moves from your stomach to reach up and cup one of your breasts in his hand.

[azrielslittleslut]

Tarquin x Fem!Reader

Period Sex/Praise/Romantic Sex

Warnings: smut, p in v, mention of blood, period sex, NSFW, praise

Word Count: 1.8k

a/n: this is my humble petition for more Tarquin fics.

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

The Summer Court was truly beautiful, with its sandy beaches and endless blue water. You longed to be out there amongst the sea of people, wading through the warmth of the ocean. You wanted to feel the sea spray on your face and the feeling of the sand between your toes. You wanted to feel the sun, warming your skin and body in only the way the sun here could.

Instead, you were curled up on the bed in the fetal position, your hands clutching your stomach as wave after wave of sharp pain shot through your abdomen.

You had been having your bi-annual cycles for centuries now, but they never got easier. You had tried everything- teas, herbs, magical medicines- but nothing had ever worked, other than being knocked unconscious by one of the healers. The best way to deal with them, you had learned, was to just lie in bed and try not to die as your cycle ran its course.

You were so distracted by the pain that you barely heard the door to your bedroom open, followed by the calming scent of a sea breeze mixed with jasmine. "My love?" Tarquin asked, his voice soft. "How are you feeling?"

You groaned in response, the pain too great for you to form words. Why did being a female have to hurt so much?

Tarquin gently sat down on the bed, careful not to move you around too much. His handsome face was twisted in concern as he looked down at you, his turquoise eyes full of anxiety. "Is there anything I can do?" He placed a warm hand on your lower belly as he spoke, his touch a comfort.

You mastered yourself enough to say, "I think it would hurt less if you were to take a dagger and shove it through my uterus. Perhaps you could try that?" Your voice was hoarse as you spoke, thanks to hours spent groaning in pain. "Just put me out of misery, Quinny."

Despite the gravity of your words, Tarquin smiled at the sound of your nickname for him. The two of you have been lovers for years now, but that name always eased something in his chest. "I would never do that, sweetheart. I'm sorry you're in so much pain." He paused for a moment. "I was talking to a healer earlier, about how bad you're cycles are."

You looked up at him with blurry vision. He was wearing his crown, you realized, the sapphire and white gold looking like waves on top of his white hair. "What did they say?" you asked, though you assumed they had not told him anything you didn't already know.

"They gave me a way to help you... if you are willing, of course." There was something darker in his voice, almost like nervousness. But that would be insane- Tarquin was never nervous around you.

You sighed, rolling over onto your side to face him fully. "I've tried everything. Nothing has worked for centuries, so I don't think anything they would suggest would help." You grabbed the hand that was still on your stomach, your fingers lacing with his. "Thank you for trying though, love. That means the world to me."

Tarquin shook his head, and you swore you could see his dark skin blush. "No," he murmured, leaning down so his face was mere inches from yours. His bright eyes had darkened to the color of the deep sea, a color you only saw when he was writhing in pleasure. "Have you ever tried... having sex?"

For a few moments, you could only blink as you processed his words. Did he really want you when you were... like this? Did he not find you disgusting?

Tarquin must have sensed where your thoughts had gone because he leaned forward and placed a palm on your cheek. "You are beautiful in every way, my darling. You are perfect, and I would never find anything about you disgusting." He paused for a moment, his expression softening. "Forgive me for saying anything. I only want to make you feel better. I hate seeing you in pain."

Your eyes filled with tears at the tenderness of his words. You had thought about making love with him during your cycle before. Especially since you seemed to be more sensitive and needy during it, but you had never dared to bring it up to him. But now...

"Tarquin," you whispered, moving your body up to reach for him. "I need you. Please." The pain you felt in your belly was nothing compared to your growing desire, and all you wanted was him.

Tarquin chuckled softly as he moved over you, pressing you down onto the bed. "There's no need to beg, love. I will make you feel so very good." He began to kiss down your neck, moving his hands down to the hem of your nightdress.

As he began to raise it up, you froze, suddenly aware of what he would see when it was removed. "Quinny," you breathed. "Maybe we should do this in the bath? I don't want it to be messy."

His brows furrowed for a moment as he raised his hand and snapped his fingers. You gasped as you felt a warm fabric appear under your body, the softness of it against your thighs. You glanced down and smiled to yourself as you saw a towel beneath you.

"Always one step ahead, are you?" you asked with a giggle, reaching up to pull him back down to you.

Tarquin's lips were warm and soft against yours as he kissed you gently. "I'm nothing if not prepared."

The kisses deepened, and soon the room was filled with the sound of your soft moans. He kissed down your neck, leaving love bites and hickeys along your sensitive flesh. You were so caught up in his lips on you that you didn't flinch when he raised your nightgown, exposing you to the air.

"Lift for me," he whispered against your skin. You obeyed him, staying silent as he gently removed the clothing from your body. Your nipples hardened from the chill in the air, but Tarquin wasted no time in putting his mouth on them.

He expertly licked and flicked your nipples, switching back and forth between your breasts, giving them equal amounts of attention. "Feels so good," you moaned as you threw your head back against the pillows.

Tarquin hummed as he deftly started undoing the ties that held his tunic together. You bit your lip as the beautiful skin of his chest was revealed, filled with muscles and scars. You roamed your hands over his body, digging your nails into his skin, not caring if you left marks.

He paused as he looked down to your pussy, and you felt your cheeks heat under his gaze. "So beautiful," he murmured, his eyes full of love. "Every part of you is beautiful."

"Thank you," you said quietly. He always had a way of making you feel so loved and seen, no matter the circumstance. You were overwhelmed with so much love and adoration for this male, and you thanked all the gods for him.

Tarquin pulled back just enough to remove his pants, his eyes on your face. "Do you want me to touch you?"

You thought for a moment. He normally took his time teasing you and drawing out your pleasure, but that was not what you wanted now. "No," you responded finally. "I just want your cock inside of me."

He smiled as he freed his hard length from his trousers, and you licked your lips as his thigh muscles flexed as he removed the rest of his pants. "I love it when you tell me what you want. So bold for me."

You welcomed him in your arms as he once again hovered over you, his face inches from yours. Slowly, he pushed in, and you gasped as your walls stretched to accommodate him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as he began to slowly thrust into you.

"You feel so good, my love," he moaned into your neck. "You were made for me."

Your back arched as he rolled his hips, hitting that deep spot inside of you that had your vision go white. You were normally sensitive, but this felt way better than usual. You had always heard that females were more sensitive during their cycles, but you had never thought it to be true.

Damn were you wrong.

Every thrust of his hips had loud moans escaping your lips. "Yes, yes, yes," you moaned as he kissed you and ran his hands lovingly along your body. He worshipped you with his cock, his body, with every part of him.

"Can you come for me, baby?" Tarquin asked, his hips pounding into you harder. He reached down and started to gently rub your clit with his thumb, but it was enough to send you over the edge.

A ragged gasp escaped your lips as you came, your eyes rolling back into your head. "Tarq-" you tried to say his name, but your body was overtaken with wave after wave of pleasure.

Tarquin smiled as he kissed you, swallowing your moans. "That's my good girl," he praised, his voice low. After a few more powerful thrusts, he came and you sighed as you felt his warmth fill you.

For a few moments, the two of you just stared at each other with lazy smiles on your face, basking in the afterglow of your joining. It was always like this with him, always full of tenderness and care.

He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

You ran your hands over his shoulders, breathing in his scent. "I feel better," you admitted. It was true- the near mind-bending pain from earlier had subsided to a dull ache. Why hadn't the healers suggested this centuries ago? "Thank you, Quinny."

Tarquin chuckled as he pulled out of you, settling himself on his knees. He looked down, and you followed his gaze to the ruined towel on the bed.

You winced. He had helped you clean up during your cycles before, but it was always slightly embarrassing. You fought the urge to look at his softening cock, knowing it would be covered in blood. "I feel gross now."

In a swift movement, Tarquin hauled you up in his arms, and you distantly heard the sound of the bath water running. "Let's get you cleaned up, hmm?" he said cheerfully, his face full of warmth.

You smiled as you leaned your head against his chest. "Always so good to me," you murmured. "Do you think you would be up for round two in the bath? There won't be a mess-."

You even weren't able to finish your sentence before Tarquin sprinted to the bathroom.

general tag list: @quiet-loser @andreperez11 @lilah-asteria

@anarchiii @inkedinshadows @book-obsessed124

@scorpioriesling @olive-main @scarsandallaz

Kinktober tag list: @littlest-w01f @fourthwing4ever

@huff-le-puff-puff-pass @halo-hanging @velarisnightsky444

[foxgirlknot]

kinktober 2024 day 18: in heat // locked in (perfumer/myrrh) (ao3)

"Adelaide? Dear? How are you coming on with the vervain?"

Perfumer knocked on the open door of Greenhouse 3, stepping through lightly.

"Adelaide?"

A squeak of alarm echoed from behind a shelf overflowing with flowers, and Perfumer frowned.

"Hi M - M - Miss Lena! I - I'm alright!"

Myrrh hurried around the corner, face flushed and sweaty, practically panting as she came to rest in front of Perfumer, who held up a hand.

"Easy, dear. No need to rush on my account."

"Oh -- Okay. Sorry."

Myrrh wrung her hands awkwardly in front of her, twisting her gloves together as Perfumer smiled gently in her gentle perfumery way.

"How is the vervain?"

"The -- right! Yes! It's - it's just ready to be harvested, I have - h - have most of the bushes plucked already." Myrrh tucked a stray lock of hair back behind her ear, which twitched at her touch.

"Well done, Adelaide. And how are you doing?"

"I -- I'm fine! I'm doing just fine. No p -- pro -- problems here!"

Perfumer raised an eyebrow, and Myrrh crumbled.

"Miss Lena, it's -- I can barely walk. I didn't know it - its - I didn't know I could get so wet, I swear I'm beginning to leak down - down my legs, I can barely keep myself on task, please can you do something."

Perfumer stepped closer, snaking a single hand between Myrrh's legs, drawing out a squeak that was just barely avoiding being a moan as her fingers found metal and leather long since turned warm with body heat and slick with lust.

"Mi - Miss Lena, fuck --"

Perfumer pulled her hand away, examining the way her fingers glistened, ignoring the almost pained gasp from Myrrh.

"Is your new belt treating you well? Comfortable?"

"I -- well, yes, until this m - more - until this morn - morning, and it's only getting worse, please Miss Lena I need --"

Perfumer held up a single finger, and a withering gaze, and Myrrh froze. "What I need is vervain. Finish the harvest and bring it to my office, please."

"And then will --"

"And then you will continue with your usual tasks about the Garden until such time as I see fit. Do you understand?"

"... Yes, M - Mi - Miss Lena."

"Good girl, Adelaide." Perfumer smiled gently. "Keep up the excellent work."

[lavenderovercast]

MULLET TOWN collab with @honeyandberryjuice

summary: you take it upon yourself to take care of stan, and show him a little slice of heaven. relationship(s): stanley pines x GN!reader warnings: 18+ content, !! MINORS DNI !! author's note: this one was a lil trickier for us to write, but me & honey hope that you guys enjoy it!!! tags: MULLET STAN BABY WE LOVE THAT GUY!!!!, blowjobs/m receiving oral, harsh language/minor name calling, but like in a sexy way i promise, face fucking, plotless porn, fluff, oral sex, pet names, you wanna give stan the world, he wants to give you the world too <3 🌺 prefer to read on ao3? check out the series! 🌺

You have absolutely no idea how you got here. While you were usually the type of person to complain, especially when it meant you accidentally scuffed up your expensive new work boots, you really didn’t feel like you had that much to complain about this time.

Meeting up with Stan definitely had its upsides, especially when it meant you ended up with his fingers pounding inside of you, causing your eyes to roll back into your head. You never meant for it to happen, but the two of you were attracted to each other like magnets and no matter what different methods you tried to pursue to keep him at a comfortable distance, they never fucking worked.

“Yeah, tell me how much ya love it, doll,” His voice rasped, tinged with an almost mean teasing. It was clear that he had no interest in hearing any other response from you other than your moans hitching in your throat as he stretched you out with his thick fingers. His gold chain dangles loosely in front of your face, and you're overwhelmed with the urge to bite it. Only Stan could ever get you this feral over some damn accessory.

The thought suddenly evolves into action and before you know what in seven hells you’re doing, you’ve clamped the metal between your teeth. You glance up at Stan with fire in your eyes, as if you’ve just initiated some challenge that only he would understand— and he does, rather quickly. “You tellin’ me ya wanna use your mouth more, toots?” The grin he shoots down at you is diabolical, like he wouldn’t hesitate for a second to ruin you beyond recognition. You want exactly that.

His fingers pull away from you, leaving you empty and wanting. You would whine for the man and chase after him if you had no sense of dignity. But impressively, you always kept some of that intact during your visits with one another. Your teeth snap together as the gold chain is dragged away from your mouth by Stan adjusting himself in front of you, those big hands of his wandering to your shoulders. His touch is neither gentle nor rough as he pulls you up into a sitting position. 

For a moment, his hands brush affectionately across your temple to wipe away stray hairs that threaten to obscure that pretty face of yours from his vision. “You let me know if it’s too much.” He grumbles, the words a gentle assurance that doesn’t match the frenzied energy in the room now. You can’t stop the grin from forming on your own lips, nodding your head. 

“Yes, sir.” You nearly purr the words, your grin dying into a smile as Stan fights back the urge to fucking growl like some damn, deprived dog at the word that rolled so sweetly off of your tongue. Knowing you’re just doing your best to drive him fucking crazy in the best of ways, his hands find the top of your head and gives an encouraging, gentle push down that leaves you bent in front of him on your hands and knees. 

You don’t hesitate to get right to work. You tilt your head forward and grip onto the zipper of the man’s slacks with your teeth, moving one hand to undo the damned button above it. As you pull the zipper down, Stan has half the mind to help you with dragging his slacks down to his knees. He’s being a gentleman in his own right, not letting his partner put more work than you needed into your pretty performance for him. 

His fingers dig hard into your hair, nails brushing against your scalp as he feels your mouth on his boxers and the hardon underneath. You remember the first time the two of you had ever fucked that you’d been surprised by the size of him— He always exuded confidence, but you had grown to know him as secretly vulnerable and sweet when he had his moments. Suffice to say, you hadn’t been as prepared as you would’ve liked, but had more of a sense of how to handle it now.

The way he’s staring down at you with so much possession and intensity causes a shiver to travel up your body, all the way to the back of your neck. You weren’t always the most assured, but you knew when a man — or, in truth, only Stanley — wanted you. His gaze always made your body feel like fire was burning through your veins, and you had such an intense need to please him, to make him feel things he’d never felt before, that it almost overwhelmed you. Stan sending a cocky grin down your way would’ve made a weaker person combust on the spot, though you had a task to do.

You knew how insane it made Stan to use your mouth for absolutely everything, and you weren't about to let him down now. Without hesitating a second longer, you tip your head forward and grip the band of his boxers between your teeth, yanking hard and letting it snap harshly against his skin. The visceral moan that escapes him is animalistic, though audibly strains as you mischievously swipe your tongue up along the length of him through the fabric. Stan’s grip in your hair grows harsher, if that was even possible, and you let out a thrilled hiss as the delicious pain of it spreads across your skin.

“Filthy little whore, ain’tcha?” His bottom lip is latched by his teeth, though his jaw slacks with an expression that you can only take to mean ‘You’re my whore, and I’ll use you as I please’. Even though you could tease him forever, you know that Stan isn’t the most patient of men and he’d take matters into his own hands soon enough— You wanted to continue the control you were  having over him right now. 

Your cold fingertips brush his hips, dipping below his boxer band to skim over the sensitive spot leading down to his v-line. The boxers come off easily, the length of him springing free, a dewdrop of precum glistening on his pink-hued tip. And Jesus Christ, was the sight intoxicating. You only offer an acknowledging hum to the man’s words, afraid that you’d start drooling like a hungry dog if you tried to open your mouth to offer some sort of playful quip. 

You peek back up at the man through your eyelashes, your lips tugging into a mischievous grin before you dip your head forward, running your tongue across his tip. The salty taste of his precum hits your tongue immediately, only serving as encouragement for you to wrap your lips around your lover’s head. An approving groan sounds from Stan, whose face you haven’t kept your eyes off of. He looks like the wreck that you feel like now already, mullet messy and face flush. 

If you were still a Godly individual, you would pray to the lord that you could keep Stan like this forever, because his current dishevelment is certainly the closest you’ll ever get to heaven. Determined to convey the strong, overwhelming need welling into your chest, you wrap your tongue around the head of Stan’s cock, swirling and moving the muscle skillfully around him. Stan rewards you with another pleased groan, those perfect hands of his applying a gentle pressure to the back of your skull to encourage you further down his cock. 

Typically, you wouldn’t tolerate Stan’s lack of patience. Typically, you would offer some form of punishment— whether that was your teeth grazing against the sensitive flesh of his cock (a sensation that you had a feeling he was very much into), or pulling your mouth off of him to tease and prod at the man until he took initiative over your encounter. This time, you give a hum around his dick and happily comply with the silent request, pushing your head down to take more of his length. 

“Fuck,” The word comes out a sigh more than anything else, and those big hands of his run lovingly through your hair before tightening their grasp again. “Look at you. You’re so hungry for me, hm?” His head tilts as he questions you, a wicked grin tugging the corners of his mouth up as you offer another hum around his dick. And then, with a deep breath drawn in through your nose, you continue your pursuit of making the man crumble under your touch the way that you’ve crumbled under his. 

And there was that blasted impatience again. Even though you were taking him so well, using all the techniques you’d practiced over the span of your relationship, Stan always wanted more. He wasn’t the type of man to only take an inkling of what he wanted— It was all or nothing.

The pressure on the back of your head grows stronger as he pushes you harder against him, the size of him hitting all the way to the back of your throat. Your eyes squeeze closed as you have to concentrate on your breathing, your mouth brimming with saliva as your cheeks begin to ache as you suck every inch of him. You weren’t lucky enough to say you have no gag reflex at all, though you’re a strong person and can fight off the urge if you’re determined enough. Your eyes begin to water, causing small tears to begin streaking down your cheeks, as Stan’s grunts grow louder with every thrust.

“You’re doin’... so well, sweet cheeks.” The man’s voice sounds again, this time breathy and hot. It’s clear that he means it by the jerking that you feel on the roof of your mouth. Maybe it’s the sudden softness in his tone, or the praise he’s giving you, but it gives you further incentive to give him anything he wants. You pat his thigh a few times to tell him that you need a breather, and he pulls himself out of your mouth, the hand that had laid on the back of your head softly sweeping around your face to cup you gently on the cheek. 

You climb to your feet, grabbing his hand between your own and pulling him towards his bed. You lay yourself on your back, head towards him with your head basically hanging off the edge. With a motion towards him, he stepped forward and you gripped the back of his thighs to pull him even closer. “Get back to it, then.” You demand, your tone playful.

Stan barks a laugh, wrapping a hand around his cock to reposition it into your mouth. “Whatever you want, toots.” He doesn’t say anything else as you take all of him once more, happy to find out that your intuition had been correct about changing to this position. Like this, you could take so much more of him without risk of your gag reflex setting you off so harshly.

The man throws his head back and hisses as he feels the tip of his cock even deeper in your throat, the tightness of it enveloping around him and causing a thrill of pleasure to spike through him as your soft lips touch the skin at his base. His head is dizzy from the sensation and his eyes squeeze shut as he moans your name loudly to the ceiling. You feel your crotch throb from the sound, your want so evident in your body’s reaction to his voice alone, but you know good things come to those who wait. Stan was allowed to be selfish in this moment, as he usually went out of his way to make sure you were satisfied before he even entered himself into you.

His arms reach up above his head to rest on the bed canopy, fingers curling around to grip tightly into the wood. You hear the scratch of his nails and know he’s close, your own hands still wrapped around the back of his thighs to try and take more of him. “I’m… I’m gonna cum, doll face.”

The words encourage you to tighten your grasp around the man’s thighs, a muffled whine threatening to rise up from your throat. Something about knowing that you’re the one making him feel this way, making him talk this way— it sends goosebumps across your skin as you double your efforts. Cheeks hollowed around the man, you’re doing the best you can to help Stan reach his limit. When your tongue curls around his cock, trying your damnedest to cover every inch of him, he gives another groan, followed by a gentle buck of his hips. 

Still so considerate of you, even when he’s on the fucking brink. That fact almost drives you as wild as the feeling of him cumming in you does. Stan’s grasp on the wood only tightens as he rocks his hips against you, gentle and careful as he rides out his orgasm. You’re all too happy to let him, swallowing every last drop of his cum with an eagerness that might bring a blush to your face later. It’s only when you can feel his hips come to a halt and his body relaxing above your own that you release your own grasp on his thighs. 

Stan pants softly as he pulls himself from you and your mouth, allowing you to become aware of the drool that now coated the corners of your lips and his cock. You can’t help yourself as a satisfied smile appears on your face as the brunette plops down beside you on the bed. He looks absolutely winded, sweat clinging to his skin as you happily move to cozy up to him. “Good?” 

“Good?” Stan repeats with a scoff, his eyebrows rising as he looks at you with an almost starstruck expression. “Best goddamn head I’ve ever gotten.” He confirms, a toothy grin forming on his face. You aren't allowed to bask in your pride of his praise for very long, though, because Stan moves an arm to gently pull you closer, so you’re damn near on top of him. 

The man nuzzles his face into your neck, his tone rough as his hands roam down your sides. “S’pose I oughta pay you back for that one, huh? Not very gentlemanly of me not to…” 

“Since when…” You begin to tease, but he finds that goddamn spot between your neck and collarbone that makes your breath catch, and your sentence devolves into giggles as you rolls your eyes affectionately at his antics. “...If you insist, sir.” 

A pleased groan rumbles against the sensitive skin of your neck, but before you can do anything else, Stan secures his hands around you to pull you onto his body. You give another giggle at the show of affection and closeness, your heart feeling fuzzy with warmth and your body aching for more of the man.

[mononijikayu]

kinktober 2024 — kayu's version.

Satoru's grin softens as he looks at you, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. His eyes are filled with something tender and deep, a look that makes your heart swell with affection.

He leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, languid kiss that seems to say everything he can't put into words. His hands are gentle as they explore your body, tracing every curve, every line, as if memorizing you by touch alone.

He pulls back slightly, his lips barely an inch from yours, his breath hot against your skin.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he whispers, his voice low and full of emotion. "And tonight… tonight is all about you."

K I N K T O B E R 2 0 2 4 —

K A Y U ' S V E R S I O N

hello, this is kayu!!!

i write to you all as i prepare for my first ever participation with kinktober!!! its quite exciting and thrilling and i am just so happy to be able to finally be a part of a new world.

a lot of what im writing is going to be only for 18 and above and as such not safe for work. i hope my dear readers understand that this means that if you are not 18 and above — do not yet read. i will have safe for work content in between these periods. please read those!!!

in any case, i am most excited to share with you the things ive been working on for all of you. im very happy with how these stories are so far and im sure by the time they are finished — they'll be something ill be most proud of.

kinktober may seem like a quite an odd concept to some but its exciting to express a horizon of expression in a different way. and im excited to express stories that will be a different shade of me once again. i hope you enjoy them!!! i love you all!!! see you in october!!!

xoxoxoxo kayu

W H A T ' S C O O K I N G ! ?

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●OCTOBER 4TH 2024

♡ SINGER SUKUNA X SINGER READER

( e l a b o r a t e r o l e p l a y )

♯┆ why are you obsessed with me .ᐟ

— ryomen sukuna.

— no one knew how the feud of the bands started but people were here for it regardless. sukuna liked to push your buttons, you liked to push his. and really, it didn't matter. because he was here. and you were fun.

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●OCTOBER 11TH 2024

♡ PRIEST SUGURU X WIDOW READER

( f o r b i d d e n d a l l i a n c e )

♯┆ devotion .ᐟ

— geto suguru

— twenty years passed and you moved towns with your husband, to try and forget geto suguru, your lover turned priest. now you're a widow and after all that time, your heartbeats at the sight of father geto suguru, the town's priest.

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● OCTOBER 18TH 2024

♡ HUSBAND NANAMI X READER

( m a k e u p — c a r f u c k )

♯┆right people, wrong place .ᐟ

— nanami kento.

— you and your husband nanami kento have been estranged for a while. it was hard, hard to fathom that you and him would be separating, that he would choose duty over you. even when you drink, its his name you call to pick you up tonight.

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●OCTOBER 25TH 2024

♡ GOJO SATORU X WIFE READER

( f i r s t t i m e )

♯┆honeymoon .ᐟ

— gojo satoru

— arranged marriages are hard, even when you're the one who made it happen. after years of marriage (and subsequently falling in love), the two of you finally decide to go and embark on a honeymoon.

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●OCTOBER 31ST 2024

♡ FUSHIGURO TOJI X WIFE READER

( b r e e d i n g k i n k )

♯┆pillowtalk .ᐟ

— fushiguro toji

— if fushiguro toji was being honest, he'd always wanted a big family. after living a rather painful life in a loveless family, he wants to build a big, warm home. looking at it now, megumi's almost a year old. a new sibling in close age would be good, doesn't it?

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C O M I N G S O O N ! ?