#reluctantly and uh

[paintedkinzy-88]

Chara and Classis Sans have an... interesting dynamic. Like, it feels like Chara actually does kinda care about Sans but refuses to admit it and vice versa. Is that intentional?

Yesssss! Chara wants to care about everyone, now that they get this happy ending, but they’ve got a bit of a… grudge against Sans. That’s more than just the frustration of how many times he’s killed them. It was something I was gonna explore a bit more later, but in the interest of getting my thoughts back on track… idk have a look into my Chara Thought Process why not—

In Let’s Try This Again, Chara and Classic get to have a lil moment together. Chara specifically TELLS him part of why they dislike him: “Out of all the monsters I’ve met, you’re the most annoying. You know too much and either don’t say anything about it, as if the issue will just go away, or you rub it in my face.”

They were trying to put out an olive branch, after the whole thing with Red kinda reminded them of their own bio family. But when Sans later followed up with, “Ain’t really a way to fix any of that, maybe. But, then again … it never really happened in the first place, now, did it?” all while smiling almost cheekily, Chara only saw that as more deflecting. Ignoring the problem and pretending it never happened, when it so clearly did. So they left, pissed again.

Chara doesn’t like lying. They’re very straightforward, tell it as it is, no bullshit kinda character in Winged. Keeping everything from everyone, especially those closest to them, is annoying. And it’ll come out eventually, so they’d rather it be on their own terms than from some trauma induced freak out from one of them or, now, one of these stupid alternate people slipping up one day (they’re specifically looking at Ink or Red). I mean, imagine getting a second chance to live with your family, but they’re not allowed to know you’re there? It sucks, they hate it, and Sans was the one to suggest they keep it all a secret. Frisk agreed, albeit a bit reluctantly. Chara didn’t, but they kinda got lumped in cuz it was their only option to stop this constant battle.

They don’t want to hide, they don’t want to pretend all the likely years worth of resets and killing and sparing and emotions and memories and trauma just never happened. And the fact that Sans doesn’t even want to talk about it with them, Frisk and Chara and Flowey, the only people of his world that understand?? (And then have the AUDACITY to be able to go talk about it OPENLY with countless other skeletons this whole damn time when the three of them couldn’t???) They can’t help but hate him for it.

In their mind, he’s holding them back. A happy ending is useless if one of them is still denied true freedom, forever kept on a leash, cuz Sans doesn’t want this perfect peace to shatter. He doesn’t trust his family to not “overreact,” (similarly to what kept him from telling anyone about his wings,) and he doesn’t trust Chara period.

[thegoldenavenger]

Some LiuJiu sex pollen fic about 3k. Also extremely unresolved tension, hahaha OTL. This was supposed to be about 100% angstier than it turned out but that Did Not Happen. Rating is probably mature but not explicit.

Warnings associated with sex pollen tropes apply, but nothing really happens here. Sqq is non-verbal for the entirety of this, lqg is sometimes a little unobservant and a little too observant, but I don't think there's anything too bad.

Shen Qingqiu gets the lion's share of the burst of pollen. It only hits Liu Qingge incidentally, fast as he is to whirl away from its path. It still sends a burst of liquid heat straight through his core. Shen Qingqiu drops outright, coughing through the fat, fuzzy pollops. Liu Qingge swings Cheng Luan around, cutting through the tattered form of a ghost ant demon.

He has to end the fight quickly, compromised as he is. Shen Qingqiu hadn't been of any real help in the first place but now he's a liability. Liu Qingge grits his teeth and sends a sword glare flinging at another of the ghost ants, this one a big drone of a creature.

He can't meditate to cool his body down so he redirects the heat instead, focusing on the battle thrill. The limber way his limbs follow his commands, the strength in his grip, the coiling of his muscles, the friction of his silk robes against his tense, heated skin. He gasps, flushed and sensitive, and pierces through carapace and ectoplasm. The two other ghost ants abandon the fight.

Liu Qingge heaves breath in, swallowing thickly. He can't pursue them like this, can't leave Shen Qingqiu vulnerable in a field.

He stumbles to Shen Qingqiu, the man's trembling form curled on itself where he'd fallen. The pollen is really hitting him now. When he tries to cycle his qi, it feels like it only spreads faster.

"Shen Qingqiu." His voice is shakier than normal.

A breathy noise comes from Shen Qingqiu's form, his head tilting by degrees the only sign that he is listening at all to Liu Qingge. His inky hair falls around him like a curtain with only the shell of his ear peaking through. It is flushed.

"Shen Qingqiu, stand!" Liu Qingge puts his hand on Shen Qingqiu's shoulders, ostensibly to shake it. Shen Qingqiu is warm even through his seven layers of silk. He doesn't get to linger with the curve of Shen Qingqiu under his palm because the man flips over in a wild spray of limbs. His hair whips around his face as he kicks himself backwards and away from Liu Qingge.

His face is pink and sweaty, his dark ice eyes hazy under the pollen's influence.

Liu Qingge's throat clicks as he swallows and his hand burns.

Shen Qingqiu curses, his fists tightening. Lying like this, leaning on his elbows, he looks bullied. His lips are red and shiny, puffy almost. Liu Qingge blinks hard. Shen Qingqiu's chest rises and falls with enough force to flutter the fine lapels of his diaphanous outer layer.

Liu Qingge clenches his jaw and quickly closes the distance between him and Shen Qingqiu, whose awkward backwards crawling is laughably useless against Liu Qingge's long legs. He grips a fistful of Shen Qingqiu's robes and yanks him up. He sways dangerously, almost comically swooning into Liu Qingge's chest. His strong, thin scholar's hands brace against Liu Qingge's belt.

He can feel them tense and relax against him.

Shen Qingqiu makes a distressed noise, half whine choked with growl, but with the distance closed he doesn't seem able to pull himself away. Liu Qingge can hardly force himself to open his jaw for words, it seems that for once words are beyond Shen Qingqiu at all.

His arms move almost without his permission, locking around Shen Qingqiu, tucking him in closer. The solid length of Shen Qingqiu's body is a line of heat against him and his muscles tense in the effort to not squeeze him tighter. Another discontented noise escapes Shen Qingqiu's mouth even as the man tilts his face into Liu Qingge's chest.

"I—" Cheng Luan sheathes itself, and the sound of it sliding into its scabbard makes them both groan. There is no way that Liu Qingge can focus enough to fly. They should seek shelter but if they do...

Shen Qingqiu's hand has wormed its way into Liu Qingge's outer robe, absently flexing. Even through the layers of fabric still separating them he can feel the shape of Shen Qingqiu's nails. He doesn't even have to imagine their sting; Shen Qingqiu has scratched him in their spars before.

It's a reminder that neither of them will be happy if they fully succumb to the pollen, and if they sequester themselves they will succumb. Even now, Shen Qingqiu is pressing in closer, Liu Qingge can hear him snuffle along his lapels. He's still shaking like a leaf caught in wind underneath Liu Qingge's hands.

Liu Qingge grits his teeth and pushes Shen Qingqiu away.

His whole body aches, bereft of Shen Qingwiu's warmth and weight. The whine he voices is involuntary and embarrassing, but at least matched by Shen Qingqiu who's viper hands have locked themselves into Liu Qingge's robe.

"Let go. We need to get to Qian Cao."

Shen Qingqiu's face looks conflicted and dazed, eyes dewy, eyesbrows furrowed in a sharp angle, his thin lips curled almost in a snarl. Liu Qingge tries pulling him along but he stumbles and winds his way cat-like back into Liu Qingge's space, tripping them both up.

"Stop—Shen Qingqiu, get ahold of yourself!" It's hippocritical of him to say this, of course, his own hands locked around Shen Qingqiu's wrist, his own heart beating double time, the center line of his body yearning towards the shape of Shen Qingqiu. Shen Qingqiu snakes his arms around Liu Qingge's waist, refusing to be budged or dislodged again.

He's mean about it, is the thing. His fingers grip through Liu Qingge's robes to dig bruises with how hard he clings. He uses his sharp chin to jab into the meat of Liu Qingge's shoulder when he tries to unlatch Shen Qingqiu's arm. He stomps on Liu Qingge's instep when his knee shifts the wrong way. It's like fighting, like any of the ambushes Shen Qingqiu pulls on him, but somehow more disorienting. He isn't even sure if Shen Qingqiu is fighting to stay closer or not; keeping his iron grip on Liu Qingge's clothes but kicking at his feet in turns of spitefulness.

Withought conscious thought Liu Qingge's hand slips from its hold on Shen Qingqiu's shoulder and slides down to the small of his back. And it is small under Liu Qingge's hand. Shen Qingqiu's hands become sharp, clawing into him like little dagger points. The pricks of pain send a shudder through him and he closes his eyes but that makes it worse.

He's overly conscious of how small the amount of space is between them, of Shen Qingqiu's knee next to his, of the strong arms around him, of the hot and humid breath Shen Qingqiu gasps against his robes. He has never faltered a single day in his life but his knees feel weak.

Shen Qingqiu's own knee shifts against Liu Qingge's, he is only aware it because it moves away from him leaving a cold space. Then Shen Qingqiu steps forward, doing something clever with the angle of his feet between Liu Qingge's, and suddenly Liu Qingge is on his back and Shen Qingqiu is straddling him.

Liu Qingge really should know by now to not let his guard down around Shen Qingqiu.

Shen Qingqiu looks smug, even with his lip curled to show his teeth in warning.

His robes drape around them like petals of a flower, the bulk of them only exaggerating the small, hesitant twitches of Shen Qingqiu's hips. It looks involuntary, like he isn't even aware of it. The golden puffs of pollen cling to Shen Qingqiu's skin and hair, catching light from the moon. They glint where they're caught in Shen Qingqiu's eyelashes. Liu Qingge swallows and Shen Qingqiu's eyes follow the bob of his throat.

Liu Qingge bucks his hip up, curling his body like a shrimp and pushing at Shen Qingqiu's knee. He hears a gasp above him, which he tries to ignore. He also tries to ignore the heat under Shen Qingqiu's robes and between his thighs. In increments, Liu Qingge wiggles from underneath Shen Qingqiu and they tussle on the ground for a few more inelegant moments.

Shen Qingqiu scrambles at him in increasingly disorganized and clumsy attempts. The elegant Qing Jing fighting forms fall away in favor of something more base and frantic. It's the same frenetic fighting Shen Qingqiu falls into when sparring inevitably tips towards Liu Qingge's favor: the tricks and low blows Liu Qingge hates the most.

Liu Qingge tries to catch Shen Qingqiu's hands and gets bitten for his troubles, tries to stop Shen Qingqiu's kicking legs from brushing too close against him and gets a line of scratches down his arm. Shen Qingqiu is still panting, muscles quivering, face heated and pink and coated with a soft sheen of sweat that his cultivation should be able to take care of, but if Liu Qingge forces himself to stop focusing on these small, intimate details and take in the whole of Shen Qingqiu...

He's scared.

Liu Qingge has managed to flip them for more leverage and is bearing his weight down on Shen Qingqiu to get him to stop wiggling. He's half between Shen Qingqiu's legs without even noticing, his blood heated and intent on winning. Like this is just any fight between them.

He throws himself backwards and away, something black twisting in his gut.

Both of them lie there, under the moonlight, breathing hard.

The heat still churns in Liu Qingge's body, and he's sure in Shen Qingqiu's as well. Shen Qingqiu shedding extra pollen onto him probably did not help. He really needs to get them both to Qian Cao, even if Shen Qingqiu would abandon him if their positions were switched.

Liu Qingge hadn't even noticed climbing half on top of him. It had been instinct and muscle memory. If Liu Qingge were more compromised... Shen Qingqiu might even be right to leave him behind.

Lucky, then, that Liu Qingge isn't more affected. Shen Qingqiu has started those small, distressed vocalizations. Not quite whining, but adjacent. Liu Qingge can feel it too, the cool night air against his skin where Shen Qingqiu's body had been is almost painful. Shen Qingqiu does not have the coordination to walk, Liu Qingge doesn't have the coordination to fly.

"Hey!" Liu Qingge sits up. "Shen Qingqiu! Come here."

Shen Qingqiu has curled in on himself again, almost looking small. Frail.

"Can you—" the words are getting harder to force out of his mouth. He just wants to growl.

Shen Qingqiu does not come here, so Liu Qingge crawls over to him. Shen Qingqiu tenses as he draws nearer. When the man uncurls enough to glare at him Liu Qingge stops. He wants to go closer, to just pick him up and be done with it. He can still run, it'll just be uncomfortable. Doubly so with Shen Qingqiu struggling.

Instead he makes sure Shen Qingqiu is watching and then turns his back on him.

Quiet, and then Shen Qingqiu makes a curious noise that sounds almost exactly like the haughty little hums he hides behind his fans when Liu Qingge does something stupid but amusing. It does not help Liu Qingge keep still. His training makes him reluctant to put his back towards Shen Qingqiu, the heat coiling in him doubly wants him to turn and face Shen Qingqiu's flushed face.

The crunch of dirt as Shen Qingqiu moves makes goosebumps spread across Liu Qingge's shoulders. He can feel Shen Qingqiu's gaze like a physical weight.

It doesn't, unfortunately, make the heat subside. It seems to magnify it, even, knowing Shen Qingqiu's calculating eyes are on him. That he is being sized up, weighed and tallied. He squares his shoulders under that attention, tries to keep his breathing even.

His can hear his own pulse heavy in his ears.

Finally Shen Qingqiu approaches, Liu Qingge can feel the heat of his body. It seems he'd stood to come closer, standing behind Liu Qingge's kneeling form. Liu Qingge's mouth feels incredibly wet and he swallows again, and again, as Shen Qingqiu just hovers behind him.

When touch comes, it's with Shen Qingqiu's fingers combing through Liu Qingge's gathered hair. It makes him jump, half expecting Shen Qingqiu to pull or yank. Instead he just runs his fingers through it. It is almost as if Liu Qingge's hair has developed feeling, each soft pass of Shen Qingqiu's fingers sending a tingle through his scalp.

Shen Qingqiu sinks to his knees behind Liu Qingge, pressed close enough Liu Qingge can feel every hot, tense line of him through their clothes. It's like descending into a hot spring, the warmth of Shen Qingqiu's body enveloping Liu Qingge's sending a shudder coursing through him.

Shen Qingqiu hooks his chin over Liu Qingge's shoulder, his nose pressing against Liu Qingge's cheek. He rubs cat-like against Liu Qingge, a lilting hum almost a question against Liu Qingge's skin. His arms come around him, and with that a pressing weight as Shen Qingqiu leans into him.

Shen Qingqiu presses into his back, down on his shoulders, against his face. Liu Qingge wants to fold over, to give himself more room maybe. Maybe to feel Shen Qingqiu follow. If Liu Qingge bent a little, maybe if he rested his weight on his elbows, Shen Qingqiu could cover him like a blanket, the sheet of his hair could fall over Liu Qingge's shoulder, blocking him in.

The thought makes his ribs ache in a deeply unfamiliar way.

Shen Qingqiu presses more of his weight into Liu Qingge, shuffles his knees closer, rubs his hands against Liu Qingge's chest. It pushes a strangled noise from him, chased by a self satisfied hum from Shen Qingqiu. Liu Qingge bows by a degree, back curving against Shen Qingqiu's firm chest. Shen Qingqiu does follow, leaning more of his weight against the plane of Liu Qingge's back than on his knees.

Liu Qingge slides his hands backwards to Shen Qingqiu's waist. Shen Qingqiu doesn't protest so Liu Qinnge follows the dip of his waist down to his narrow hips then further to the outside of his thighs. Shen Qingqiu tilts the box of his pelvis into Liu Qingge's back, his muscles flexing as if to encourage Liu Qingge's wandering hands.

Liu Qingge feels almost dizzy, his face is hot and his core is twitching with his own restraint. He lets his fingers grip tight and Shen Qingqiu moans into his ear, soft and sweet. He reaches further back, cupping Shen Qingqiu's thighs, pulling him firmly against himself. It makes another breathy noise escape Shen Qingqiu's lips and Liu Qingge feels on fire. He is sure his face is incandescent in the night.

He waits until Shen Qingqiu moves his hips in a little abortive thrust, enough to unbalance his stance, and then he moves in one big rush: grip on Shen Qingqiu's thighs pulling his legs around him as he curls forward to force Shen Qingqiu's weight higher onto his back. Then he stands, Shen Qingqiu left clinging.

He does it so quickly Shen Qingqiu can't react except for reflexive tensing until Liu Qingge is already standing, finding his balance while carrying another body. Liu Qingge waits for Shen Qingqiu's response, prepared to wrestle his limbs if he starts struggling again.

Shen Qingqiu is a line of tension, having locked up at the sudden movement. Liu Qingge clears his throat. Wets his tongue and manages to croak "Fine" with enough inflection it could be read as a question.

Shen Qingqiu takes a deliberate breath, deep enough it rocks Liu Qingge. Then he relaxes in Liu Qingge's hold. He does pull at Liu Qingge's hair, one sharp tug that has Liu Qingge barking Hey reflexively, that he assumes is meant to scold him. With nothing more violent coming forth, Liu Qingge takes it as acquiescence and bounces a little to settle Shen Qingqiu’s weight better.

That makes Shen Qingqiu hiss. Shen Qingqiu's arms flex where they grip, and he pants against Liu Qingge's ear. Liu Qingge gamely ignores the damp puffs of air and his own burning face to start walking in the direction of the sect.

Though this position seems to work best for both of them—Liu Qingge isn't looming over anyone, they are headed towards the sect, the pollen's effect is mitigated by the press of their bodies together—Liu Qingge had failed to take into account the actual logistics. Each step he takes rocks Shen Qingqiu into him.

Shen Qingqiu's thighs flex around his waist in time to his steps like Shen Qingqiu is riding him and Shen Qingqiu has buried his face into Liu Qingge's collar hiding his small gasps. Liu Qingge's foot catches a dip in the ground and he skids through the next step, jolting Shen Qingqiu against him. Shen Qingqiu whines, reedy and wanting, before he bites sharply at Liu Qingge's shoulder, ruthlessly muffling the noise. The burst of unexpected pain makes Liu Qingge stumble, his groin twitching hard.

"Shen Qingqiu!" Liu Qingge hisses, stilling himself. Sweat has gathered at his hairline, his lip, he can feel it drip down his neck. Shen Qingqiu's open mouth is hot and wet and sharp, his arms are heavy and clinging. The layers of silk that slide between Shen Qingqiu's length and the curve of Liu Qingge's spine are damp.

His teeth pulling back from the bite is almost as bad as getting bitten, the pain blooms under Liu Qingge's skin like a budding flower, and the cool air stings at the teethmarks Shen Qingqiu left. Did he draw blood? The thought briefly makes Liu Qingge's eyes unfocused.

Shen Qingqiu bucks his hips forward, too intentional to mistake for anything but a rider spurring their mount. He tugs at Liu Qingge's bang, telling him forwards. The flare of heat catches him by surprise, and Liu Qingge starts walking. Shen Qingqiu shifts against his back, his chin settling in the bruise he'd left. Liu Qingge can feel the smug radiate off of him.

It's a long walk back to Cang Qiong.

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

Am I right in assuming Vera and Angel would get along with one another?

They would be best friends! Although Vera is super grumpy and Angel is sometimes too tired to deal with that, they would bond over being promoted to parent by a bunch of toy monsters AND having to deal with the bullshit certain people left behind. They're two tired moms to me 💖

[spilledmilkfkdies]

Dunno if anyone asked this but like…Wizard redemption arcs?

I’ve got my own takes on them as well for my rewrite:

-Orgon would never, too goal-oriented

-Anagan probs would through Flora

-Duman’s a 50/50, he’ll probs stick with his band

-Gantlos is a wild card arsonist but I believe he can do it, may take a lot of time though (90% of this is headcannon skcjskxjsk-)

But those are my takes what about yours?

Idk this is kinda hard because like?? Not to be a stinky wizard apologist I am, but I like a bit of "you both suck wtf happened here bro" in my planet history, which makes a clear cut redemption a bit more difficult ig?? Like in whose eyes are they being redeemed? The fairies' who were also very much morally bouncy? Or uh maybe the audience idk- I forgive em.

That being said though, depending on if you try to tackle the whole group at once or take it one at a time, it could both be interesting.

I've had thoughts where you have Ogron, Gantlos and Anagan: No Circle (object), no Duman, half their powers if not a quarter, washed up and heavily in mourning- At that point just. Talk to them. They're in no position for a full on revenge spree, they are SAD, they're weak. Either just leave them be or talk them into joining a cause for mutual and equal benefits, then if they ever do get back to full strength they'll simply not bother you again. Rough concept kinda, but yeah. Side note that in this timeline, if Duman does eventually claw his way outta the Gardenia grave, he's not going to be happy. Actually maybe giving the washed up wizards their Duman back would do all the work by itself? They'd show genuine gratitude and Duman wouldn't be allowed to be mad. Win win.

Then we have one by one, many many many possibilities there too. Like the best order? There isn't one. Several delicious routes, some more difficult than others. Play onto Gantlos following Ogron to the ends of the world, Anagan already having been mentally done with the hunt for ages- Does modern day Ogron care deeply enough about the others to put their well being and safety above their goals? Or at least more so than early days/in his prime Ogron who CANNOT relate. Again, don't put Duman last though. Cornered animal core fr I'm so serious. Which is where my pLANS COME IN- jkjk

[the-acid-pear]

Honestly I always mostly just think of the [looks at notes] 3 managers Harry was friends with when thinking of what he lost but considering he's that old and has been jumping between franchises so much and also the fact Every Fucking Phoney (save for 3) got scrapped by the time we meet him; how much as this man lost? How many people he cared about has he seen die gruesome deaths again and again? Has he managed to find time to process this to grieve or has he just desensitized himself to the situation entirely? I wonder if some vague memory or reaction from how he dealt w this while in the war is how he keeps it at bay. Though it's rich of me to take his formality at face value when he has shown to not be a stranger to strong emotional reactions. Much to think about!

[makerofmadness]

I had the idea to make this post last night while doing my trophy race spree but then I forgot but now I just remembered looking at my phone photos so-

[sennamybeloved]

oh and, of course, her spirit petal lines, to finish off this spamfest.

[saccharineomens]

They’re talking about Jack. Spoiler alert, they’re both right.

Based off that scene from Dr. Horrible!

[keiachi-chan]

>:\

[kitakami-zorua-kin]

Well you are your own person and entitled to your own opinions and actions, to have your own character, I can't dictate how you act no one can but we can engage in discussions about how you or I behave, respectful ones, and you seem to possess a skill that's getting rarer these days you seem to have the ability to agree to disagree I appreciate this, more people should have it, also you mentioned reshiram earlier, they're very cool, I personally have a thing for Giratina.

Also Kieran? Take care, as someone a few years older I offer one advice, you are welcome to ignore, you are still young, look out for your body you don't want to be damaged and brunt out in your mid twenties afterall theres more champion titles to be won, if I see you on TV in the future, I'll root for you ok? Oh yeah question, which champion would you like to beat in the future?

Oys

... Thanks. Not a lot of people can be respectful about this stuff. And Giratina is pretty cool.

... I'll... try to make some time for it. No promises though. As for which champion... I've always kinda wanted to do the Johto League... But I also think the Unova League - especially the Champion - could be an interesting fight.

[rafey-baby]

older!rafe can’t always be mean to his delicate flower, can he?

c/w: fluff with a little bit of angst in the beginning, rafe feeding sensitive!reader pasta, slight subspace, smut: oral (f receiving), overstimulation, use of daddy & dad, 18+ mdni!

wc: 2k

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

Sock-covered feet pad along the hardwood floors when she finally hears the lock of the front door turning. Rafe’s home later than usual— a fact she’s entirely too aware of since she’s been impatiently waiting for him to return ever since he left her this morning without so much as a goodbye.  

Usually, she’d stir awake to him smearing kisses all over her face and mumbling sweetened words about how much he’s going to miss her during his meetings— sometimes even wake her up with his cock prodding at her entrance before fucking her all sleepy and sloppy until she’s a sobbing mess.   

However, she assumes he was still mad at her because she forgot to let him know she was going out for drinks after her lecture before her battery had died. Therefore, she hadn’t received his several calls or the texts filled with concern and only a few hours later, did she remember that she’d never actually sent the message regarding her whereabouts.  

When he came to pick her up after she’d borrowed her friend’s phone in order to reach him, he was clearly displeased; merely muttering out a “ask you to do one thing and you can’t even do that. You know how fuckin’ worried I was?” and crudely telling her to go sleep in the guest room because “daddy doesn’t feel like dealing with your shit tonight”, which had resulted in wet droplets surfacing to her waterline while she kept apologizing over and over again, but to no avail.   

In the morning, she’d woken up to a tear-stained pillowcase and a headache. And when she tiptoed over to the bathroom, she realized that the entire house was desolate; he hadn’t even left a note.   

Therefore, she’s not exactly sure how to approach him, hesitant in her movements before she sees him in front of her in all his glory.   

“Hi,” her voice is quiet, but her forlorn face lights up nonetheless. 

Rafe is in the process of mindlessly kicking off his shoes when he looks up; a tired smile tugging at his lips when she practically tumbles into his arms in a greeting.  

“Missed you,” she mumbles against his crisp button up when he rests his big hands on her hips in an attempt to steady her.   

“Missed you too,” he murmurs into her hair. “Got you somethin’,” he reluctantly pulls away in order to present her with a bouquet of pink lilies; her favorites.  

“What’s this for?” her moony eyes stare up at him in bewilderment.  

“Drove past a flower shop…guess they made me think of you,” he admits, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek; confusing her to no end.  

“But I thought—” she utters out, hesitant to take the flowers she feels unworthy of.   

“That I was mad at you?”   

She nods, looking up at him with guilt swimming in her eyes.  

He lets out a sigh.  

“Listen, I was, uh, maybe a little too harsh on you last night, okay? I know how forgetful you can be. Was just worried when you weren’t home and didn’t answer your phone until hours later. Thought somethin’ happened, you know?” he explains with a calmness that placates her racing mind as she accepts his gift.   

“I know, m’sorry. Won’t happen again, promise. Texted you today the second I was home, right?”   

“You did,” he confirms as he peels off his suit jacket before sniffing the air. “Smells good, what’re you making?”   

“Oh, I made you dinner,” she says bashfully, almost as if waiting for his approval.  

“You did? All by yourself?” his brows climb his forehead in surprise.   

She nods, a soft smile on her lips before he’s ushering her towards the kitchen and plucking a glass vase from the top shelf for her. 

Usually, he’s the one cooking for them since she’s not greatest in the kitchen, always so tired after studying the whole day, she’d probably forget the stove on and cause some sort of a fire due to her absentminded nature. Therefore, he prefers to prepare his girl a nurturing meal whenever he doesn’t have to work late.   

“How was uni today?” he asks as she sets the now flower-filled vase on their dining table.  

“A lot. Was kinda stressed the whole day cause I have so much homework and reading to do, don’t know how I’m supposed to have time for all of it. And then have this group project and the deadline for this essay approaching and…I don’t think my brain works anymore,” she sighs out when she peers down at the steaming bowl of spaghetti Bolognese he places on the counter.   

“Good thing you don’t need to worry that head of yours over anythin’ with me. Let dad do the thinking for you, yeah?” Rafe’s voice is as smooth as honey, causing her to blink up at him— something cottony dusting over her mind in response to his sugary cadence.   

Strong arms lift her up and place her on the marble countertop before he settles right between her thighs, like a puzzle piece she’s been missing the entire day; tall frame hovering over her even as she’s practically perched on a pedestal.   

Then, he’s picking up the plate in the most casual manner and contently shoving a forkful of pasta into his mouth before groaning in satisfaction.   

“Shit, this is amazin’,” he praises around the mouthful.   

She mumbles out a flustered thank you, her thoughts all over the place since she thought he’d still be mad, but then suddenly he’s not. In fact, he’s seemingly in a great mood.   

“Did you eat yet?”  

“No, was, um…waiting for you. Didn’t wanna eat alone,” her volume is nearly inaudible. 

He stops chewing.   

“Waitin’ for me, huh?” he rasps out before he’s lifting the fork closer to her mouth.   

She looks up at him, puzzled.   

“Open,” he orders and she has no choice but to obey— let him feed her because truthfully, whenever she’s around him she gets a little dumb; can’t really focus on anything except his low drawl and gemstone eyes.   

“Good, right?”  

She hums her agreement around the bite, barely registering that some of the tomato sauce stains her chin in the process.   

“Always so messy, huh?” he tuts disapprovingly, even if he’s the one holding the fork.   

However, before her mushy brain has the time to even comprehend what he’s doing, he’s laving the flat of his tongue under her mouth; cleaning it up for her.   

“There we go,” he murmurs as he rubs a thumb over the spot for good measure.   

She swallows.   

“Want some water?” he asks and she nods, all of a sudden unable to utter out words.  

Then, he’s tipping a glass of ice-cold water to her lips, carefully watching her gulp down the liquid before he decides she’s had enough— withdrawing the cup in order to drink some of it himself.    

He continues feeding her every other bite and making casual conversation, all the while she feels herself softly slipping into a very specific headspace. And before she realizes, he’s placing the empty dish in the sink with a slight clatter; their bellies full and happy.    

She doesn’t think she wants to eat by herself ever again.  

Then, her foggy mind registers him in front of her again as he pulls her closer— warm palms slipping under her top and his thumbs idly smoothing over her tummy while she quietly stares at him with hearts for eyes.  

“You put this tiny thing on just for me, hm?” he questions as his eyes drop down to her cleavage; the pale pink lace doing a very poor job of concealing what’s underneath since she’s forgone a bra (and pants), as she usually does whenever she’s merely loitering around their home.  

“Look so pretty in this,” his dreamy voice rumbles as he swipes a thumb over a covered nipple, causing her to let out a faint gasp at the sudden contact.  

“Ray…” she hums out while he keeps rubbing over the squishy part of her body he knows gets her buzzing.  

“Hm? You feelin’ floaty already?” he asks with a gentle cadence. And she’s not sure how he always seems to know just the right words to say in order to turn her into clay.   

“Yeah, missed you so much,” her hazy eyes flicker over his face while he simply gazes at her, before he’s smearing his mouth on hers.   

There’s something hungry, primal in the way he groans against her lips— causing a whimper to escape her throat in response.  

Then, all of a sudden, he’s lifting her over his shoulder as if she weighs nothing more than a single paperclip; making her squeak out a sound of surprise when he jokingly smacks her ass while walking out of the room before throwing her on the bed.   

“Let daddy say hi to his favorite girl, yeah?” he coaxes her before he’s prying her thighs apart and nuzzling his face into her cunt through the material of her panties; nose bumping against her clit, making her shift closer to him.  

“Missed my pussy so much, you know? Wanted to fuck you nice ’n slow last night but you never came home.”   

“M’sorry, daddy,” she can’t help but whimper out when his warm tongue licks over the already dampening fabric of her underwear.   

“Yeah? You gon’ make it up to me? Let me eat you ’till I forgive you?”  

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you want,” she blabbers, a whine leaving her vocal cords when he plucks the soaked through material to the side and blowson her sensitive cunt.   

“Shit, you’re so wet already,” he says in awe, letting spit drip down his tongue and onto her folds anyway. Then, he’s wrapping his lips around her clit, making her cry out because she can already feel her orgasm lingering underneath the surface.  

“Need to come, can I? Please m’gonna— ” she says, almost in a trance; already so wound up. And the way he’s practically torturing her achy button with his mouth isn’t really helping.  

After he’s hummed his agreement, she’s not able to hold it in any longer— his tongue poking at her opening when the knot in her belly unfolds. She’s shaking, thighs yearning to close, if not for his strong arms holding them open as he groans around her, seemingly lost in a daze with her taste and smell practically suffocating him.  

Since he knows how insatiable she tends to be, he refuses to pull away from between her thighs. And two more orgasms later, she’s a whimpering muddle; desperately trying to drag her hips away from his unrelenting hold. However, he’s entirely too strong and she doesn’t stand a chance. 

“Ray, s’too much, need a break—” she complains, eyes beginning to turn watery in response to the overwhelming pressure.  

However, despite her protests, he doesn’t stop. Instead, he begins to mess with her entirely too sensitive clit with his fingers now— pressing and pulling and making her whine as tears trickle down her cheeks and she tries to fruitlessly wiggle away from him once more.    

“Nah, you’re good, dad wants you to give him a few more, think you can do that?” he mumbles against her sticky folds, stuffing the tip of his tongue into her weepy hole as an effort to persuade her.  

“I don’t know if I can—”  

“Shh, jus’ wanna make you feel nice, you don’t want me to?” he feigns hurt when he lifts up his head, beginning to mouth over the soft skin of her inner thighs to pacify her; his slight stubble tickling her in the process and making her twitch.  

“No, I do, I do…”   

“Then quit whinin’ and let me take care of you, hm? Show you how much I love you,” he coaxes her to give in. And when he puts it like that, she thinks it does sound rather romantic. 

[bratbby333]

satosugu & their favorite lady ♡ poly head cannons

`⭐︎ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ bc who doesn't love when their two boyfriends are also bf + bf?

nsfw mdni; fem!reader, 3sum, anäl, dbl. penētration, oral, yaoi, use of pet names. banner fan art from pinterest

poor suguru, having to work overtime to keep the two of you in check—your unyielding energy bounces off of satoru's childlike enthusiasm, creating quite an unhinged environment. and of course geto switches into dad-mode when it comes to y'all, but he wouldn't have it any other way...not willing to give up what he has, loving how silly his lovers are.

satoru’s definitely the physical touch lover while suguru handles words of affirmation: they take turns showering you in praise in the form of soft touches and gentle kisses while they removing your clothes, two sets of hands running up and down your soft skin.

this dynamic also manifests in public, with satoru being your go-to for steamy dancing and drunken make-out sessions in the middle of the club, while suguru sits observantly at a table off to the side.

when he finally feels that it’s time to go, he’ll join the two of you on the dance floor, his chest pressed flush with your back as you continue to lock lips with satoru. you grind against him, assuming he's finally joining in on all the fun. but his hands pull at your hips before running up your body and cupping the underside of your jaw, quite literally having to peel your mouth away from satoru's. "hey...wha- i wasn't done," you grumble. suguru only chuckles in response. "let's get outta here, you two..." he mumbles. satoru attempts to reconnect his lips with yours before a stern "satoru," rumbles from suguru's chest. your blue-eyed lover pouts, of course, before reluctantly agreeing.

suguru loves hitting it from the back while you suck satoru off, the sloppy sounds of both your holes filling the heady air the room as the three of you chase your releases

and of course, satoru would get creative and suggest a challenge, a little competition to see who finishes first, just for funsies; "bet i'd last the longest". he'd be so fucking smug about it, too. and nine times out of ten, you and suguru would create an alliance and work together to literally break satoru; not only does he finish first but he cums over, and over, and over again. you and sugu take turns bringing him to his breaking point, and after his third orgasm, he's begging to switch so he can get one of you off instead. but you just can't stop. and why would you? he just looks so pretty as his hips buck off the bed, sweat glistening on his skin with his flustered cheeks and swollen lips, while his body trembles with every gasping breath. you swear he does this shit on purpose, plotting for this outcome because he's been feeling super needy lately.

they just love pleasing their precious girl

you're straddling suguru, your forearms resting against his chest as your nails dig into his skin. satoru is pounding into you from behind, his hands anchored on your hips. he tucks his chin into his clavicle to watch as your gushing cunt sucks him in so greedily. suguru pulls your head down, your cheek resting against his shoulder as his fingers reach under you to play with your clit, sultry words of praise leaving his lips and going straight to your listening ears, "feels good, doesn't it baby? uh uh, don't move. keep takin' him...y'doin so good." you whimper as toru’s impressive length reaches unimaginable depths inside you, the sweet squelches of your needy pussy spurring him on as he drives into you even harder. sugu’s fingers keep working at your throbbing clit while you bite and suck on his neck, interrupted by the symphony of soft ahh’s and ooo’s falling from your swollen lips. a few more rough thrusts and rapid circles against your clit and you’re falling apart on satoru’s cock, spraying all over the their thighs. you gasp and whine when you feel satoru pull out, only for suguru to lift you up and quickly take his place, sheathing himself in your pulsing walls. “you ready, baby?” you glance over you shoulder, watching as satoru sucks his fingers into his mouth, a cheeky smirk on his face, your cock drunk brain too dizzy to respond. you nod, groaning at the feeling of his long, slender digits playing with your ass, dipping in to the second knuckle. satoru works to stretch you out in preparation for you to take them both. your face contorts at the dull ache. "look at me...focus on me, princess," suguru rasps, redirecting your attention to him as he slowly pumps in and out of your gummy walls. your nails scratch down his chest as you rest your forehead against his, breathing deeply in an attempt to relax your body for the inevitable stretch. you already feel so full, your pussy absolutely drenched, your arousal dribbling out around sugu’s girth, but you grow even wetter in anticipation for your two boyfriends to take you at the same time

and if you thought it would be a peaceful transition into sleep after y'all finish fucking, you would be sorely mistaken...the three of you constantly fight for the middle spot in the bed. correction, you and satoru are the ones bickering. as the two of you argue, suguru finds his place and waits for y'all to follow suit, and more often than not, it's suguru in the middle, laying on his back, as you and satoru tuck yourselves under each of his arms and curling into his side, legs thrown over his waist.

it's a very balanced relationship. the three of y'all have your designated nights to cook dinner, your assigned spots on the couch (though you occasionally fight over what to watch), a copasetic routine for showering, going to work, running errands together. and when one of y'all is out of town for work, the two left over keep each other company. it's perfect, a home full of love and laughter.

y'all loooove having threesomes, but sometimes it's too much logistically. and that's totally fine...nothing wrong with some one on one action, whether it be you and toru or sugu and you or the two men having their fun alone.

you arrive home, expecting to be entrapped in a double bearhug by your two boyfriends, only to hear moans and grunts echoing down the hallway. you laugh to yourself as you make your way upstairs. opening the bedroom door, you're greeted by a smiling suguru being topped off by his blond counterpart. "hey baby, how was work?" he asks casually, not even acknowledging the fact that he's actively getting head. you smile softly, walking to the edge of the bed and placing a gentle peck on suguru's waiting lips. "mmm, it was a pretty rough shift...i'm gonna go take a long, hot shower," you reply, exhaustion evident in your voice. satoru sits up, continuing to jerk suguru off. with his free hand, he wipes the spit from his chin, grinning ear to ear as you lean in to kiss him, too. "you sure you don't wanna join us?" "not right now, toru, but i might when i get out," you smile as you walk to the dresser, grabbing a change of clothes before heading toward the master bathroom. you turn back around to face the two of them, giggling at the disappointed looks on their faces. when the door closes, the wet sounds and breathy moans fill the bedroom once more. but of course, not even five minutes into your peaceful shower, your back is pressed up against the tile wall as satoru's tongue laps at your throbbing clit. "this is the best way to decompress, baby," he says before his fingers dip into your core and his lips reattach to your sensitive bud. "f-fuck, toru...feels s'good..." as you surrender to the bliss, you hear the bathroom door open and close. seems like suguru was feeling left out. so much for your alone time, huh?

loneliness is no longer apart of the equation for you. after years of failed relationships and agonizing heartbreaks, you have finally found peace, your yin and yang. you have your boys, and they have you.

author notes: stsg has had me in a fuckin chokehold recently so i had to get this outta my head. i just rly rly want two boyfriends so so bad and i want my two boyfriends to also be boyfriends. ugh. is that too much to ask? ♡

©bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.

[anghraine]

On the one hand, I'm personally very sure that it was no later than when he tried to shoot Vader in Cloud City in ESB and likely it was that specific moment. I don't think he attributes what he sees to secret magnets or whatnot, and I think the Worst Dinner Party Ever (ft. Darth Vader) is even funnier if Anakin floats things around à la AOTC and shoves people into their seats and is just transparently The Most Space Wizard and Han is still processing this when he's dragged off to the sparky Imperial torture machine. Han Solo's worst day maybe ever.

On the other, it is very funny if it's actually after ROTJ and he literally never realizes it onscreen.

anyway sound off. at what stage do ppl think Han figured out the Force was real. the boring answer is after seeing Obi-wan vanish but i think he could rationalise that away as his eyes playing tricks on him. what do we think.

[chuluoyi]

the secret wife

- nanami kento x reader

follow the first years’ misadventures as they find out that apparently, the infamous 7:3 sorcerer is also a dutiful and loving husband in private!

genre/warnings: crack, fluff, the first years are simply chaotic, an attempt at humor, gojo cameo (he’s so insufferable), mentions of pregnancy, nanami being the best husband there is

note: based on an anon's suggestion, this is a spin-off to love entries' wife (so gojo is married to love entries reader naturally!) this is full chaos and crack omg so sorry and isn't proofread bc i’m kinda tired so pls forgive any mistakes and my dry humor :')

general masterlist

On one fine, sunny day, which was supposed to be a calm and relaxing afternoon...

“Hello? Yuji—”

Megumi could've sworn, they weren't usually this nosy.

“Gojo-sensei! It's urgent!”

Call it indulgence, because Nobara's curiosity just got the better of her.

“Oh? What's—”

“Does Nanamin have a wife!?”

And Yuji... well, he just needed answers, because the three of them were now in the ‘Mom and Baby’ section of department store, having just witnessed a monumental sight of their esteemed mentor, Nanami Kento—

—with a remarkably stunning woman hanging onto his arm.

“Huh?” Gojo's confusion was evident from the other line. Oh, yeah. Yuji had decided to cut to the chase and call him too, hoping for a swift clarification.

Okay, so why were the trio—plus Gojo on the speakerphone—hiding behind a pillar just to spy on Nanami and his very possible wife? Let us rewind 30 minutes before...

Yuji considers himself to have an exceptional eye and taste for women.

And 30 minutes ago, when he fell on his butt on the rough, hard asphalt in the jammed Shibuya crossing after accidentally getting shoved by the crowd, and encountered a kind, vivacious older woman—you, who extended a hand to help him up, he was even more convinced of that.

“Are you alright, Itadori-kun?” your soft voice entered his ears, catching him off-guard, and Yuji was certain of two things then.

One, that you were just like a literal angel descended from skies above, all dolled up and pretty with your flowy sundress.

“Ah, uh—” he stammered, eyes darting everywhere and anywhere at once as his palm started sweating after clasping your hand. “I-I am…”

And two, for the life of him, he had no idea who you were.

But it registered late in his mind to ask as he was busy controlling his ragged breathing and instant crush, and before Yuji knew it, you graced him with another kind smile and went on your way.

And did he feel so miserable afterwards.

. . .

“She’s sooo hella pretty, Fushiguro! And she knows me! Me!”

Megumi sighed, eyeing his friend in disgust. Truthfully, all he wanted was to return to the dorms and collapse onto his bed, and not listen to his friend’s incoherent ramblings.

"You sure you weren't imagining things?" Nobara questioned with slight irritation. "After you embarrassed us in front of Gojo-sensei's wife a while back, please think more before you act."

"I'm not, I swear! She said my name!"

"Itadori, can you please just not?" Megumi grumbled, having enough of this ruckus. "I want to walk back in peace."

And so tucking away his pout, Yuji walked in silence just as his best friend asked, and he was really going to leave it at that when suddenly he caught the sight of a familiar pristine coat and the sundress from earlier. “Oh?”

"Isn't that Nanami-san?" Nobara also spotted him, her eyes widening when she saw you, who was happily beaming as well as Nanami's light chuckle. "And wait, who is—?"

"That's her!" Yuji burst out, pointing decisively in your direction. "That's who I was talking about!"

Oh, no. Megumi dreaded it already. He could already see the utter catastrophe—

"I'm going after them!"

"Wait, Itadori! Me too!"

Too late. Before he could stop them, Nobara and Yuji had followed the pair. Reluctantly, Megumi trailed behind them too, albeit wearing a vexed scowl. Yet despite his misgivings, he couldn't deny that the things he saw over the next 30 minutes were genuinely unexpected.

Nanami consistently led you to a quieter spot away from the bustling crowd, his hand holding yours firmly. He would occasionally throw you a smile, or when you didn’t hold hands, then he’d wrap an arm around your waist. And to the trio's bewilderment, they also saw him tenderly brushing his lips against your head while on the escalator.

Soft and gentle. It was a side of Nanami Kento they had never witnessed—either with anyone else or even himself.

The two of you ventured through home appliances, visited food stalls, and eventually... the ‘Mom and Baby’ section.

"Do you want to rest for a bit?" Nanami's voice held a touch of concern as his hand settled on the small of your back, and seeing that, Nobara positively swooned.

"Oh, no, I'm fine," you responded with a reassuring smile. "Let's head over there. I'd like to see that next!"

Watching you and Nanami meticulously going through strollers and cribs like a pair of would-be parents was apparently too mind-blowing for Yuji and Nobara, leading to the decision to call Gojo right then and there. And, as they say, the rest was history.

"Last I heard, Nanami wasn't married," Gojo answered resolutely. "If he is, then it's the ultimate betrayal because he never told me!"

"But we see him with a woman! At mother and baby care section!"

Gojo hummed in thoughtful manner. "Okay, students. Now I'm tasking you to see this to the very end! Keep me on the line!"

With that, Operation: Uncover Nanami's Wife was officially underway, and frankly, the way the three of them were clumsily tailing the 7:3 sorcerer made Megumi want to facepalm. How was it that Nanami hadn't noticed their rather conspicuous attempts at all?

Now you were fawning over baby clothes, cutely trying not to squeal as you picked a little blue and yellow overalls. "Kento! Kento! Look, how cute!"

And all of them were floored once again when the expression on his face softened, as a warm smile adorned his lips. "Yeah, they are."

"Is she pregnant? She doesn't look it..." Nobara remarked, squinting and frowning, still watching the two of you like a hawk.

"Or maybe they're shopping for someone else?" Megumi suggested, earning teasing grins from Yuji and Nobara, to which he quickly rolled his eyes, as they chorused, "Looks like you're curious too!"

After a while, you moved from the clothes to sections stocked with mother's necessities. Yuji leaned against one of the racks, pressing his ear against it, with Nobara and Megumi crowding behind him, attempting to catch a snippet of your conversation with Nanami.

"I think we should get some heat packs and these pillows—"

"Oh, Kento! You're such a worrywart, I still won't need them for a few more months—"

"Wait, what?" Yuji whipped his head around in surprise, causing Nobara, who was leaning on him, to stumble and inadvertently collide with the racks.

"Eh? Huh!?"

Unfortunately, the racks weren't sturdy enough, and the force caused them to sway dangerously. Nobara, sensing her imminent fall, instinctively grabbed Yuji's arm to steady herself. However, he got tugged instead and their combined weight exacerbated the situation, leading to the racks quickly toppling over and a deafening commotion ensued—

Crash!

"Careful!" Nanami immediately pulled you behind him, a protective arm around your shoulder, sensing your shock from the sudden crash. He was on high alert, expecting some sort of attack of cursed spirits, but instead, he was met with the most astounding sight of the bickering culprits amidst the fallen racks.

"Kugisaki! What are you doing!"

"You dumbass! Why didn't you stop me from falling?!"

"Itadori-kun...?" Nanami called out in utter disbelief, his mind couldn't fathom as to why the first years were here. However, his attention quickly shifted to Megumi, who was seething and sending his friends a glare so hard it could drill a hole into them.

Then, the boy swiftly fixed himself into a low bow in front of him, ashamed, disregarding Yuji and Nobara's groans altogether. "Nanami-san, I'm very, very sorry on their behalf."

"What are the three of you doing here?" he inquired, and poor Megumi seemed at a loss, huffing as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of where to even start.

Meanwhile you were full of worry for the fallen kids. "Oh my gosh, are you alright?"

For the second time today, you tried to help Yuji to stand on his feet, and this time, he really had a good look over you.

It wasn't exactly noticeable due to how loose your dress was, but now he could see that under it, your belly was slightly rounded—an unmistakable baby bump.

Amidst his shock and pain, Yuji couldn't bring himself to take your hand as he inadvertently let this slip, "N-Nanamin! You knocked her up!"

Nanami blinked. You gaped. Megumi and Nobara went pale in sheer horror, ready to murder their friend on the spot for his extreme height of rudeness.

“Itadori-kun,” Nanami cleared his throat then, and if he was offended, then he chose not to show it. “First of all, I’m sorry for not introducing you sooner. This is Y/N, my wife, and yes,” his tone hardened slightly, “She’s carrying our first child.”

“S-so you are married!”

“Yes, that was what I—”

“What the hell?! NANAMIIII!”

Oh, the freaking phone. After his fall, Yuji’s phone ended up on the floor, and of course, Gojo did hear all of the entire madness, evident from how his voice blared from the phone.

Nanami frowned, unwittingly reaching out towards the phone. “Who—?”

“NA-NA-MI!" Gojo screeched in righteous exasperation, and the former immediately pulled away from the phone with a cringe. “How could you?! I invited you to my wedding! Are you a hermit or something—how could not tell anyone!? Didn’t you say I can officiate—”

“I said no such thing. Please refrain from saying outrageous things, it’s both annoying and misleading,” Nanami stressed, growing more irritated by the mere sound of Gojo's whining voice and feeling his patience waning rapidly.

"Aren't we friends?! How—!"

"Should I find you instigate one more of this... shenanigans with the kids, I won't hesitate to report you to Yaga and your wife," he interjected then with clear irritation, and right that second, Gojo shut himself up.

Yuji, Nobara and Megumi couldn't help drawing that one conclusion in wonder: So, that's what Gojo-sensei is afraid of.

Nanami swiftly ended the call with a flick of his finger, returning the phone to the still mystified Yuji. Turning back to the trio, Nanami's irritation simmered as he glanced at the mess of broken goods on the floor, as well as noticing the approaching clerks.

"You three..." Nanami started, his voice rising slightly, unfaltering even as the three of them flinched. "Do you realize what you've done? Are you so idle that you can ditch your assignments?"

"Kento, don't be too harsh," you rebuked, placing a hand on his arm with a frown on your face. Nanami sighed, looking over the situation once again. It was a whole rack of baby necessities destroyed; plates, glasses, and whatnot scattered across the floor.

Nobara bit her lip in anxiety. “Oh my god, who's going to pay for all this damage?” She could already imagine the staggering amount this mess would cost. This is worth millions, anyone can go bankrupt.

There was only one person who can and will. Immediately, both Nanami and Megumi turned to her with a shared resolve.

"Gojo," Megumi blurted.

"He will be charged for everything," Nanami added with spite.

Epilogue

"You just love those kids, don't you, Kento?"

That night, when both of you were ready for sleep, Nanami had one hand caressing your still growing belly, and you teased him with a chuckle.

"Huh?" your husband looked at you in mild confusion as he stopped stroking you. "What do you mean?"

You giggled again. "You said to put it on Gojo's name, but in the end, you were the one who covered the damages first."

Nanami huffed lightly. "That's because I can't get the kids in trouble. But mark my words, I'll make sure Gojo pays up later, by force if I need to." He made a face when he remembered just what a massive bill it was. "That's too much money to be spent carelessly. We have our child and our future to consider."

"You're always like that," you sighed fondly, taking his hand and placing it back to the swell of your belly. "Always on the first line of defense for the students." Your smile widened. "It makes me think... just how lucky our kid will be with you as their father."

"On the contrary, I'm counting my blessings that they'll have someone as soft as you for their mother," your husband retorted with a smile, kissing your temple. And your heart melted into a puddle by his affectionate gesture.

"That's too sweet... ah, yeah," suddenly, you were reminded of a critical thing. “Kento, have you ever considered telling everyone else that we're married? At least to people at school?”

Nanami always wanted privacy for safety reasons most of the time, and you understood that, but seeing that Gojo and the first years knew already, you thought it might be the best time to let everyone know.

"I honestly don’t see the need to, why?"

"People like Gojo are confused—"

Your husband rolled his eyes then. "Don’t worry, dear. People like Gojo exist to spread the word so we don't have to."

[chososlilprincess]

Virgin Choso who doesnt know why he feels hot one day when he looks at you, something twitching in his pants and his face turns pink from…embarrassment? He doesnt understand these new feelings that come with having a human body, and he doesn’t know why he’s reluctant to ask someone about it. Not you atleast, he couldn’t ask you. What if you thought he was weird? or creepy? why does he even care? he’s never cared about silly things like what others think of him.

When he eventually confides in his younger brother Yuji, he tells him something he can’t pick whether is terrifying or exciting. “its normal bro, you just like her,” he tells him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “and when you like somebody they often make you feel uh…horny,” Yuji said grinning. Choso gets more and more embarrassed as Yuji tells him the basics of the birds and the bees.

Now Choso was in his bed, rock hard in his underwear after thinking about you for a little too long. He thought of what Yuji told him to do when his cock starts feeling weird, he had to ‘jerk off’ which his brother had told him would ’help the ache in his dick but make his feelings for you worse’

Choso sighed and reached a hand down to touch his cock, not yet reaching into his underwear. He sucked in a breath, it was terribly sensitive. pathetic.

He thought about you as he rubbed himself with his hand, thought about how you look when you laugh, about your pretty fucking eyes. The prettiest ones he’d ever seen in his almost 200 years of living. He shudders, and when he looks down again there’s a wet spot forming in his underwear, right where his tip was placed.

He feels dirty, he feels like a pervert. Thinking about his pretty friend while doing something so nasty. It feels wrong. But he needs it, he craves it.

He reluctantly pulls down his boxers, watching as his cock springs up, and it hurts. He thinks of you again, about that one time you stumbled over your own feet, and put your pretty little hand on his chest so you wouldn’t fall.

He touches his tip and he whines. fuck. it’s red and sensitive and little beads of what he assumes is pre cum, leaks out.

He starts playing with himself, grasping his length softly and stroking it once. He lifts up his tshirt and puts it in his mouth, to not make too much noice. it feels so fucking good already.

He begins stroking it slowly. up and down, just doing what feels good. He spits in his hand and brings it back to his cock to continue jerking off. He whimpers.

He’s so desperate for you to like him, for you to touch him, for him to be yours. And for you to be his. He closes his eyes, and he pictures you next to him, your smaller hand replacing his own, stroking him, telling him you love him. He thinks about kissing your pretty lips, holding your cute face in his hands. He thinks about being inside you,

his dick twitches as he groans, spilling his sticky load on his stomach while his whole body shakes. He stares at his mess, breathing heavily while he comes down from his high.

fuck. He wants you so bad, he needs you.

and Yuji was right, the ache in his now softening dick is gone, but the ache in his heart only got worse.

part two here

[nereidprinc3ss]

pretty little things

in which you can't keep hiding your stuffed animals from your boyfriend. spencer would like a formal introduction.

fluff! warnings/tags: gn!reader I think, newish established relationship, they're so cute, reader is still kinda shy around him, I'm really obsessed with this dynamic actually, implied intimacy if you decide to interpret it that way, kissing/maybe mildly suggestive a/n: this is dedicated to my friends @parfaitblogs and @gublersg1rl bc in another universe we are actually just three jellycat plushies on someone's bed which is where the inspo for this little thing came from. and thank u willow for naming your fox. ok bye love u hope u enjoy !! :D

The first time you’d shown Spencer your room, and the handful of times he’s been in it since, you very intentionally hid your stuffed animals underneath the bed. After all, you’re an adult. You have a grown up job. And you don’t need him thinking you’re some kind of freak this early into the relationship. You like him too much. 

Today, however—you didn’t have any warning. He comes over unannounced, which is all well and good, until you bring him to your bedroom so he can sit on the bed while you change from work clothes into something comfier for movie night. As soon as you open the bedroom door, you see them, lined up neatly by your pillow, and you know it’s too late. 

“Uh…”

Spencer runs into your back and takes it as an excuse to settle his hands on your hips as he peers over your shoulder. 

“What?”

You slip out of his easy hold and skitter to your bed, practically throwing yourself on the mattress and sitting unnaturally as the little beaded eyes of your friends dig into your back. Even your brightest smile doesn’t distract Spencer. He’s like a bloodhound for the truth. At least, that’s the sense you’re beginning to get. 

“What are you doing?” He tries again, eyes narrowed and closing the door carefully behind him. 

“Nothing!”

The urgency with which you say it has his eyebrows raising. Obviously delighted by the embarrassing secret he’s sure to uncover, he approaches. You lean back further even as he towers over you until you’re almost on your back and he’s folded over you, menacingly (and dizzyingly) close. This sort of position is still new-ish and has your heart pounding, even if it’s entirely playful and ostensibly innocent. 

“Nothing? Are you sure?”

You nod, still shying away from him into the pile of pillows. Without looking he reaches under you and pulls out your pink bunny. You squeak and hide your face. 

“What is this?” He laughs, and you yank it away, sitting up so he’s forced to give you some breathing room. The bunny is cradled protectively in your arms, though you try to hold it a bit more casually when you notice. 

“I said it’s nothing.”

“What about the other two behind you? The fox and the… what is that? A deer?”

“No—”

“I didn’t even know they made deer stuffed animals—”

“Spencer, stop!”

He does, at the desperate tone of voice and the way you’re still hiding from him. 

“No, no! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to tease you. Don’t be embarrassed. I’m sorry.”

As usual he’s over apologetic, now sitting knee to knee with you on the mattress and leaning down to try and catch your eye. You huff and grant him some eye contact just so he doesn’t go over the edge with worry. 

“But it’s embarrassing.”

“No, it’s really not,” he laughs. “It’s cute. I can’t believe you’ve been—what, hiding them from me? This whole time? That’s like not telling me you have kids.”

“It is not like that.”

“Hm. I don’t know, I think you should probably introduce me.”

You give him a look, letting your head fall to your shoulder. “Spencer.”

“I’m serious. I’m going to be apart of their lives now. You can’t keep shoving them under the bed every time I stay the night.”

This nerd is going to be the death of you. 

Eventually, you groan reluctantly. 

“Fine. Okay, um—this one is… well—her name is Bunny. It’s not… very creative, but it’s—that’s just her name, okay?”

Spencer doesn’t react to your unjustified defensiveness—only grabs your bunny’s round little pink paw and shakes. “Enchanted.”

“Shut up.” Your face is so hot as you bury your smile and set Bunny aside, making sure she’s comfortable against the pillow before bringing out your deer. Spencer doesn’t have the shit-eating grin you were partially expecting when you glance up at him from beneath your lashes—he’s smiling, but it’s so soft. A little twisted, like he’s holding back the full extent of it for your sake. But you wouldn’t mind it at full power. It’s like he’s hiding the sun in a saucepan and the lid’s not on quite right. And he’s looking right at you. Like you’re the source of all his joy. 

A moment passes. You clear your throat and look back down. “Um—this is Bambi. ’Cause—you know.”

“I do,” Spencer agrees genially, nodding as if this were a normal conversation. “Kind of a dark thing to name your deer, though.”

“You’re judging,” you accuse balefully. He chuckles and his hand finds your knee, rubbing apologetically. 

“I’m not, I’m not! I take it back. I retract it. Continue, please.”

For a moment you only pout, but it doesn’t deter him—he simply looks at you expectantly, and now those syrupy eyes come with the added bonus of his hand on your leg. Fine. He wins. But not without a deep, tortured sigh from you while you’re grabbing your fox that makes the corner of his mouth twitch up. 

“This one is…”

The name dies on your tongue, too ridiculous to be said out loud. 

“Tell me,” Spencer pleads in that gentle voice and with those big eyes that you’d consider burning him at the stake for because that look on his face has to be witchcraft. 

“Okay but you can’t laugh,” you insist in one quick breath, giving him a serious look that he can only partially reciprocate. 

“No laughing.”

“It’s… Mr. Cuddles.”Spencer bites the inside of his cheek to keep his promise. You melt inside both from embarrassment and from the way it only further defines an already superbly sculpted bone structure. “Do not.”

Spencer scoffs at your warning. “Don’t what? I’m behaving.”

“Don’t make fun of Mr. Cuddles!”

“Does it look like I’m making fun of him?”

“Her.”

“What?”

“Her. Mr. Cuddles is a girl.”

“I see… can you explain that to me?”

“If a human person said I am a girl and I would like you to call me Mister, would you question that? Would you ask them to explain it to you?”

“I guess not.”

“Exactly. Don’t be rude.”The way Spencer is looking at you now, eyes so clear and still so full of affection, like you’ve got some sort of heavenly spotlight trained on you, lips parted as if to say something but still silent, has you forgetting your momentary confidence. You shrink. “What?”

“I just… you’re amazing.” You throw Mr. Cuddles at his chest and fall into your pile of pillows with a groan. Spencer only continues rubbing your leg. It’s very nice, actually. He’s gentle. And patient. “You don’t believe me?”

“I don’t believe you came to this conclusion just because I introduced you to my stuffed animals.”

“Not solely because of that. There are a lot of contributing factors. I mean, the stuffed animal thing helped.”

“It’s embarrassing,” you insist for the umpteenth time. 

“It’s adorable.”

Spencer pushes pillows aside and lies next to you so you’re eye to eye. It’s nice how his presence isn’t exhausting the way people sometimes are. He’s easy to exist with. He makes you enjoy existing a little more than usual. Even now. 

You raise your eyebrows and speak, cheek squished against fabric. “I’m a serious adult.”

“I know you are,” he assures with a solemn nod. 

Your eyes narrow ever so slightly. 

“Okay… well… don’t go forgetting that. I’m fun but I can also be not fun.”

“I’d love to see that.”

“No you wouldn’t. You would hate it. You’d be so scared.”

Spencer gives up on holding back a smile and moves his hand to tuck hair behind your ear. 

“You’re right. I’m already terrified. The anticipation… it’s killing me, you know?”

You’re giggling as you roll over on top of him and he roots his hand in your hair, pulling you in for a long, smiley kiss like he knew it was coming. Only when he blindly throws your stuffed friends from the bed do you pull away—just by an inch or so. 

“No respect,” you scold playfully. He kisses you again, tangling your legs and hands wandering. 

“Can I apologize later?”

You’re good with that.