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strangerstilinski · 1 year ago

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𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary; they say ‘showering together saves water’ or.. something like that.. right? otherwise known as, the one where sheer stupidity leads stiles into the shower with his very naked girlfriend. neither one of them is complaining about the turn of events.

warnings; no use of y/n, established relationship, explicit sexual content (vaginal fingering, handjobs, mentions of oral)

word count; +3k

a/n; i fear i'm going to be perpetually unhappy with this so i'm just biting the bullet and posting it and i'm camping so here it is an hour early!! — please be nice. if you’re interested in the original version cut from my Selenophiles series, you can find that here.

please think about leaving a comment/reblogging if you enjoy! i would appreciate either one to the actual ends of the earth.

Wrapped up in a softly hummed rendition of a song that had been rattling around in your brain all day, you didn’t even hear the bathroom door open or click shut again, not alerted to Stiles’ presence until his voice suddenly sounded just to the other side of the shower curtain.

“Hey.”

It was a simple greeting. Your boyfriend remaining entirely unaware as you flinched wildly in surprise and nearly slipped in the shower on the other side of the thin sheet of plastic that separated you.

“You mind if I brush my teeth real quick?” He asked.

Your heart was still pounding away in your chest from the scare but you forced out a breathy laugh as you reached for the shampoo.

“No, of course not,” You told him easily, “Why would I mind?”

Fingertips scrubbed at your scalp, the sounds of him already beginning to brush his teeth meeting your ears over the rush of the shower as he finally responded.

“I dunno,” He said, words garbled by the toothbrush and foam in his mouth, “You’re all.. naked, so-”

“Well that’s very noble of you,” You smiled softly to yourself, “But you really didn’t have to ask.”

“Noted.” He said through a mouthful of foam before spitting into the sink.

As you began to rinse suds from your hair, you heard the telltale clacking of his toothbrush against the side of the sink as he flicked beads of water away from the bristles. You were awaiting Stiles’ quick words of goodbye when there was a loud knock at the bathroom door.

“Stiles! You in the shower?” His father’s voice sounded loudly from the hallway.

Your heart thumped quick in your chest with sudden misplaced adrenaline and you found yourself poking your head outside of the shower curtain only to be greeted by Stiles already looking in your direction with wide brown eyes.

“Uh, yeah!” He called back weakly, gaze darting around the small room as if he might suddenly find a perfect place to hide.

“Does he not know I’m here?” You whispered sharply, brows pinched together in confusion.

“No.” Stiles hissed back, “I’m kind of a little bit grounded-”

“What?” You interrupted, still whispering despite your incredulity. “You’re grounded?”

“It’s an unspoken kind of thing but definitely implied and- And I didn’t think he’d be home ‘til late!” Stiles defended in an equally hushed whisper.

“Alright, well.. You mind if I just come in and grab the Asprin real quick?” Sheriff Stilinski's voice asked loudly.

Stiles’ eyes seemed to widen even further with a small squeak of distress, “Um-”

You threw the shower curtain open just enough to to fist your hand in the front of his shirt, yanking him forward until he stumbled and was forced to climb over the lip of the bathtub. The shower curtain was tugged back closed just as the doorknob turned and Stiles’ father cautiously peeked into the room through a cloud of steam.

Stiles was now the one standing directly under the spray of warm water, his pajamas quickly soaking through and plastering themselves to his body.

He was unable to help the way his eyes immediately dropped to the wet skin of your naked chest, but somehow, your instincts seemed to know exactly what was coming next because your hand found its way up to cover his mouth just before a soft groan could slip past his lips, the sound of it smothered by your palm.

“Sorry, my head’s killin’ me.” The Sheriff apologized as the medicine cabinet clicked open.

You uncovered Stiles’ mouth slowly and with caution, narrowing your eyes and tipping your head in a silent urge for him to formulate some sort of response. Brown eyes flicked between yours, his tongue poking out to wet his lips enticingly before he responded to his father.

“Nah, it’s cool, dad. Uh.. No biggie.”

Stiles’ eyes found their way to your naked chest yet again, bouncing back up to your face for a fraction of a second only for his gaze to fall back down to your breasts as if drawn there by an unstoppable force. His mind was decidedly blank, suddenly equipped with only enough brainpower to attempt to memorize the exact shade of your pert nipples in the soft light of the bathroom. A few beads of water from your hair curled their way around your collarbone, pooling in the small dip in your clavicle before welling over and cascading down to the swell of your breast.

You watched him swallow hard, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as the shower continued to spray against his fully-clothed back.

“Right. Well. G’night.” Sheriff Stilinski called out as the medicine cabinet slammed shut again.

The boy’s eyes snapped up to yours at the sharp sound, a pink flush creeping up his neck from either the warm steam of the shower, the sight of your naked body, or most likely some combination of the two.

“N-night, daddio-” Stiles replied in an admittedly high voice, shaking his head at his you in warning as he watched you pinch your lips between your teeth to hold back a laugh.

The bathroom door finally closed with a loud click and you let your head drop forward onto your boyfriend’s shoulder as you released a quiet giggle.

“Oh my god.” You breathed out.

“Sorry,” Stiles apologized, “For, uh, invading your shower.”

You lifted your head, “I quite literally pulled you in against your will.”

Stiles nodded, “Yeah. I, uh, I guess you did.”

You snorted softly in amusement and watched his eyes flick over your face in a slow trail. His gaze eventually found something of interest behind you and he seemed to hone in on it with a determined focus.

“What are you looking at?” You questioned quietly, craning your neck to examine the shower products on the shelf at your back before returning your gaze to the boy in front of you.

“I, uh.. Well. Literally, y’know.. Anything but your extremely naked body.” He choked out weakly.

A smile pulled at your lips and you inched forward to drag your hands lightly over the soaked-through cotton of his shirt, “There something wrong with my naked body, Stilinski?”

You’d said the words with a teasing lilt to your voice, but Stiles’ eyes seemed to snap back to your own sharply, “No! No, absolutely nothing-” He denied immediately.

“Okay, well, you are allowed to look, y’know,” You told him softly, like you were revealing a secret, “It isn’t like it’s anything you haven’t already seen-”

“Well, yeah but, you- You’re trying to shower and.. If I’m being totally honest, if I look now I’m gonna get painfully hard painfully fast ‘cause I’m already barely holding on here-”

At his words, you shuffled back just a fraction so you could peek down in between you, your eyes catching on the wet, tented fabric of his pajama bottoms. Your hands twitched with the desperate need to touch and you hesitated for only a second before taking ahold of the soaked material of his shirt beneath your fingers.

“Maybe you should shower, too,” You interrupted, licking your lips as you gazed back up at your boyfriend, “I mean, your dad already thinks you are, and you’re already all wet, so y’know.. We should probably get you naked-”

The moment the word left your mouth, you tightened your fingers around wet fabric and stammered quietly, ridiculously nervous considering that you were already naked. And wet.

“-And clean. Naked, to clean your- To wash your body, obviously. I mean, it only makes sense, right?” You suggested eagerly.

The fabric of his shirt inched up his torso, your deft hands revealing his hips and the thick trail of hair at his belly button, but that was where you stopped, waiting for him to give some sort of approval before lifting it any further.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s smart.” He agreed quickly, nodding for you to continue.

You stripped him of the wet article, dropping it at the opposite end of the tub with a quiet smack. When your eyes returned to his, Stiles barely held your gaze before he was cupping your face and dragging your mouth to his. He turned you back into the shower wall and you sighed in contentment as the spray of warm water finally cascaded over the side of your body once again, pleasant goosebumps erupting over your skin.

Stiles’ kisses were an enigma and they very nearly managed to catch you by surprise every time — the way he devoured your mouth with so much hunger yet was still somehow able to hold you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. His lips dragged over yours sickly sweet, thumb stroking over your cheek, fingertips digging into your scalp beneath wet hair.

You only managed to hold out for a few desperate brushes of his mouth before you were parting your lips beneath his in silent invitation. When his tongue teased against yours, you caught the taste of mint left behind from his toothpaste and you couldn’t hold back the groan that poured from your mouth into his. You suddenly found yourself craving the taste of it, prodding your own tongue between his lips on the next kiss to chase the lingering flavor in his mouth.

The wet drag of his pajama pants against your naked thighs beneath the stream of water was an immediate reminder that he was still wearing the wet article of clothing and you flicked at them idly, fingertips dipping beneath the drawstring waist. His stomach tensed beneath your hands and he pulled back from the kiss just enough to drop his forehead to yours, eyes raking over your face slowly as he attempted to catch his breath.

“What, um. What do you- I mean, do you, um..” His eyes pinched shut in frustration as his own inability to convey himself.

Your hand slid over his water-slick hip, arm circling around his waist until you could run your fingertips gently along his spine beneath the water, forcing a contented sigh from his kiss-swollen mouth at the contact.

You licked your lips in thought, “I could either jerk you off in here, or we could wait and I can blow you in your bedroom,” You offered quietly, “I’d blow you in here but I’m honestly not entirely sure how it would work with all the water in my face and-”

Stiles nearly whimpered, “You cannot say that shit and seriously expect me to not blow my load, like, immediately.”

Your mouth twisted up into a grin, “Sorry.”

You weren’t.

He dragged you just a bit closer beneath the spray, bare chests sliding against one another. A shaky exhale left his lips and cascaded across your damp cheek, his nose skating softly against clean skin as he craned down to push his face into your neck.

“No you’re not.” He shot back without hesitation.

You sighed softly, head tipping back of its own accord in an open invitation for his lips to find your skin. The soaked through material of his pajama bottoms did nothing to hide the warm, hard length of him pressing against your hip. You slipped your hand just a bit farther beneath the damp cotton until your fist found its home around him, beginning to move in firm jerks as a choked groan sounded in his throat.

“No, I’m not.” You agreed easily.

“Jesus Christ.”

“So?” You asked quietly, words spilling out toward the ceiling as your head rested against the shower wall.

“Huh?” Stiles articulated weakly, the sound swallowed up by the way his mouth was pressed into the skin beneath your jaw. A large hand slipped down the length of your spine, long fingers finding their way to your ass, merely resting there for a moment before a flick of your wrist seemed to spur him on, hand tightening over the soft flesh as he dragged you up against him just a bit harder.

Your ankle hooked around his knee easily, pulling yourself up a bit higher, warm, wet cotton still separating you as you continued to work his length beneath the material.

“Handjob in shower or blowjob in room.” You repeated the options stiffly, thoughts scattered from the feel of his fingertips digging into your backside.

“Shit.” He murmured against your neck, his hips jerking forward to meet your hand, making the movement of your wrist more difficult when it was pinned between your bodies. “I- Um.. I.. Shit-”

“It’s kinda looking like its gonna be handjob if you don’t decide otherwise pretty quick here-”

“But I-” A sharp sound was pulled from him when your hand slipped over the head of his cock, a delicious but quiet uh squeaking out onto the wet skin of your throat. “God, I really want your mouth but-” A quiet groan interrupts him but he carries on after only a brief pause, “If you stop I might die.”

He says the words so seriously that you can’t help the small laugh that pops out.

“Oh, so you want both? That’s what you’re telling me?”

“Uh-huh, yeah, fuck.. Please-”

“Seems a little-” Its your hushed words that are cut off this time, a small gasp of surprise falling from your lips when the hand on your ass creeps lower, hiking your leg up higher as two of his fingers find your wet entrance. “Little, um. A little greedy, don't you- Ah! Don’t you think?” Your teasing statement was tainted halfway through as he dipped his fingers inside, long and thick and pushing in to the third knuckle almost immediately.

He begins thrusting in time with the jerks of your hand, synchronized gasps and groans falling from your mouths for a minute before he thinks to respond.

“If you think I’m not gonna give as good as I get then-”

His words cut off with an unabashed moan against wet skin and you nosed at his jaw until he tipped his head up to meet your lips, your scolding shh silenced within the kiss.

“-Then you don’t think very highly of me, huh?” He continued as if he’d never paused at all, his words murmured between slick lips as his mouth slid against yours again and again. “It’d, uh- It’d be a fair trade-”

“Yeah?”

The whispered question was stolen from your mouth when he licked inside, hot and dirty as his nose pushed into your cheek.

“Yeah.”

His own utterance of the word was swallowed up by your gasp when his fingers crooked just so the next time he pushed them in deep. Your grip on him fell slack for only a moment before you recovered with newfound determination, matching his efforts as he sped up the rhythm of his hand.

Your thigh hitched up on his waist that much higher, all but consumed by the desperate hunger you felt to be closer. He returned the sentiment, pulling you in and crowding you back and devouring each of your sounds until it seemed as if he were everywhere all at once.

You traded kisses between stuttered breaths and heady gasps, bodies rolling into one another’s hands as you both chased after the tight pleasure coiling in your guts and building up, higher, stronger, closer–

Stiles came first, a soft whine against your tongue when your fist circled at the head of his cock, twisting and pulling his release from him in thick spurts beneath the wet cotton of his pajama bottoms. You worked him through it, taking control of the kiss as he went slack with his orgasm and finally pushing his pants to the floor of the bathtub with a wet thwack once his hips stopped twitching into your hand.

He fell back into the kiss urgently and you relinquished control without a fight, weak to do little more than throw an arm around his shoulders for support as he redoubled his efforts to make you come.

Thighs trembling, toes curling, your muscles tensed as you were worked closer and closer to your peak. His fingers hit a spot deep inside of you with every thrust and each time sparks danced up your spine with the impact, sharp noises of pleasure were dragged from your lips.

“Sti-” You whined softly, wet mouth falling against his cheek as you tried to alert him to your swiftly approaching release, “’m so close. Shit, I- ’m so close-”

“Shit,” He returned in an urgent whisper, “Shit, okay-”

He eased his hips back from your own, his free hand falling to the apex of your thighs. His lips covered yours again as he began swirling his fingertips around the swollen bud there and your whole body jolted at the sensation. Your mouth fell open with a soft cry as you came, the glide of his fingers both smoother and more sharp as he worked you through it.

As you came down you were panting, hot breaths mingling between your mouths. The steam of the shower felt almost cloying, both of you a little lightheaded from the heat and the exertion. You cracked your eyes open and found his gaze already on you, eyes hooded and heavy, the tip of his nose bumping your own.

“Holy shit.”

It came out as nothing more than a whisper against his lips, your chest heaving in time with his as you both fought to catch your breath. You loosened the tight grip your arm had taken up around his shoulders and neck, mouth slack as you tried to pull in enough oxygen to clear your head.

“That was-”

“Yeah.” He whispered in agreement, forehead falling against yours.

The tip of your thumb pressed into a dark freckle on his chest as your hand made its way down from his shoulder in a slow drag over slick skin. You swallowed around your dry mouth as your leg finally fell free from its place around him and provided instant relief to your muscles.

“You sure you can handle two more orgasms?” You questioned breathlessly, not entirely sure which response you wanted to hear as you swayed against him in the overpowering steam of the shower.

In lieu of an immediate response, his gaze fell downward and your own followed on instinct, catching sight of the long thickness of his cock, already fattening back up against his thigh with arousal.

Tongue feeling suddenly heavy, you were filled with the urge to fulfill your teasing promise, to work him toward his peak all over again with your mouth.

You voice was a breathless whisper when it finally sounded.

“Oh.”

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dirtylittleheart333 · 6 months ago

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DEATH OF ME

Watching Chris shaving does things to you...and you're going to do things to him.

Paring: Chris x f reader Contents: 18+ Smut. Edging. Oral. Penetration. More.

‘’Good morning,’’ you said cheerfully as you walked through the threshold from the bedroom into the bathroom. The dark tiles were cool under your feet as you walked to Chris, standing in front of the basin, a fluffy sage green towel wrapped low around his waist. He had just rinsed his mouth; the smell of minty toothpaste clinging to the air and he was putting his toothbrush away when you smacked his hard, sexy ass.

Chris burst out laughing and shook his head as you giggled and hopped onto the dark top counter between the two basins. You flashed him a big smile as he reached out with his hand, grabbed your chin, and brought your face closer to his, meeting halfway.

‘’Good morning, gorgeous,’’ he said, in a husky morning voice, and planted a kiss on your lips. When he pulled from the kiss, he grinned, ‘’hmmm, coconut today,’’ he said of the lip balm now transferred to his lips.

‘’Yup,’’ you said and reached over to your side of the basin and grabbed a bottle of perfume. You sprayed two pumps on either side of your neck and put it back as he looked at you and scratched his stubble, fist on his chin, then carried on scratching up his cheek.

‘’I gotta shave. That new? What’s that called? It smells good,’’ he said, and dropped his hand onto your knee.

‘’Good girl,’’ you replied and Chris let out a rambunctious laugh, making you smile. You loved his laugh – it had a way of bringing light to the darkest of days. It was always genuine, authentic and filled with joy.

‘’Good girl? You’re far from a good girl y/n!’’ he teased and squeezed your knee.

‘’I…I…yes…I can be,’’ you said feigning shock and stuttering a little making Chris laugh again, as he raised his brows in disbelief

‘’Okay,’’ Chris said sarcastically, rolling his eyes, ‘’stay there, I’ll be right back.’’

‘’But…but I can be,’’ you called after him as he left the bathroom. You got no reply as you started swinging your legs and secured your towel wrapped around your body, tucking it in tighter. A minute later Chris walked back into the bathroom, giving you a big grin, and put a piece of paper on the lid of the closed toilet lid.

‘’We're just going have a normal conversation...you and me…I’m gonna shave and you’re going to tell me why you always walk around for half an hour with your towel wrapped around you after you’ve showered and brushed your teeth and you do…all the things you woman do,’’ he said, and waved a hand around before he opened the tap and splashed water onto his stubble., then filled the basin with water.

‘’I didn’t think it bothered you,’’ you said, tilting your head slightly to the side

‘’Oh, baby girl. There is nothing you do that bothers me, especially walking around in just a towel knowing you have nothing under there. How many times have we fucked because of that?’’ he said and grabbed his tin of shaving gel and shook the can. ‘’I could fuck you every time, but I try to be a good boy sometimes to see how long I can hold out.’’

‘’Yeah? How often does the good boy win?’’ you asked and bit your bottom lip

‘’Not often,’’ Chris said with a laugh and popped the lid off the can. He cupped his left hand and sprayed a blob into it, the colored gel expanding as it turned into a while foam.

You curled your bottom lip between your teeth and placed your palms flat on the counters edge on either side of your legs. Your fingers curled around the edge and you gripped it firmly as the scent of the shaving foam drifted your way. The masculine, clean notes filled with a spicy undertone was arousing to you while you tried to pull your eyes off of him as he rubbed his hands together and then lifted them to his face.

You had always found Chris shaving sexy as fuck. It was so… incredibly masculine, so raw. It was the way he concentrated. It was the way his muscles flexed when he lifted the razor and pushed it lightly against his flesh. It was the way he glided the razor over the stubble, the contours, and chiselled jaw to leave softer-than-soft skin.

‘’What?’’ Chris asked with a smile looking at you in the big mirror before him as he smoothed the cream onto his cheeks.

‘’It’s…strange how I never know if I prefer you with stubble or without,’’ you replied

‘’Good thing you can have both ways every day,’’ he said and rinsed his hands

‘’True,’’ you said and grinned when you saw his eyes travelling up and down your body in the mirror.

‘’It’s kind of hot in here from both of us showering,’’ you said and watched as the corners of Chris mouth twitched after he had licked his lips.

‘’It is baby girl,’’ he responded and picked up his razor

Fuck. You pushed yourself off the counter just as Chris put the razor to his face and you began making your way to the door.

‘’Uh, where are you going?’’ Chris asked and quickly put his razor down and stepped to the door. Since he was closer he got there first and he pushed the door closed.

‘’I’m going out. Leaving the bathroom. So you can shave,’’ you said and flashed him a grin.

‘’I want you here though. Don’t you touch that door,’’ Chris said and stepped back to the basin. He picked his razor up again and began shaving.

‘’Oh?’’ you asked softly and pulled your towel loose, letting it drop to the tiles. Chris’s eyes flicked to your reflection and he stopped shaving, holding the razor perfectly steady in place. A smile curved on his lips. He moved his gaze back to himself and continued shaving.

‘’You’ve never told me how you keep your little pussy so damn smooth,’’ Chris asked

You waited a few seconds before answering, knowing he would look at you if you didn’t answer immediately. Aaaand, there it was. He shifted his eyes to look at you again and you gave him a seductive smile as you slid your finger between your slit.

‘’Oh, lazer hair removal,’’ you said and Chris flinched ever so slightly when saw your finger at your pussy. You knew he had nicked himself, but you also knew it wasn’t bad – he never cut himself badly. It was, if he did, the tiniest of nicks.

‘’It’s not gonna work, baby girl,’’ Chris mumbled ever so softly under his breath. It was so soft you weren't sure if you had actually heard him correctly, but when his eyes moved to you again, you knew you had heard right.

You let out a breath, a smile on your face as you padded back to the counter and hopped on again, Chris’ eyes following you. The second your ass hit the top, he pulled his eyes away and looked at himself again. You lifted your leg closest to him and put your foot on the counter, then you turned your head and rested it on your knee, your cheek a makeshift cushion.

He really was a sexy fucker. You had studied him many times, like this or while he was sleeping and you lay away with insomnia. From his hair still damp at the tips to the tip of his nose, his lips, his jaw, his earnings just catching the light…he was perfect. You watched as he moved the razor to his cheek closest to you and a shiver ran down your spine as he dragged the razor. He then lifted it, brought it down to the basin, and rinsed it, the sounds of the water reminding you of…

You closed your eyes and squeezed them shut, breathing in the scent of the shaving cream again.

‘’Chris?’’ you said softly

‘’Yeah baby girl?’’ he asked and clearly looked at you because you heard him put the razor down quickly and then you felt him gently placing his hand on your leg. ‘’You okay babe? What’s up?’’ he asked, concern filling his voice

You opened your eyes and looked into his. They changed from worry to relief to love in a matter of seconds as a smile crossed his gorgeous lips.

‘’Drop the towel,’’ you said and Chris let out a short laugh and pulled his hand away from your leg bringing it to his waist. You watched, your heart beating faster as his fingers grabbed the fluffy material and gave it one good tug before it fell the short distance from his body to the floor. A groan escaped your luscious lips and he grinned at you before picking the razor up again. He only had two more strokes left.

You lifted your head and let your leg drop back down to dangle off the counter again. Chris's eyes swept over you again before he put the blade back to his face but not before he had to shift on his spot. You grinned, as every nerve in your body tingled with pure pleasure. He had a perfect ass, not to mention a perfect dick that was coming alive with every breath.

You tired to ignore the rapid wetness between your legs but you couldn’t ignore the little pulses as you bit your bottom lip. ‘’I want to see your dick. I want to watch it drip pre-cum while you’re busy.’’

‘’I’m going to fuck you so hard tonight,’’ Chris said with a laugh and looked at you as your hungry eyes tentatively looked at his dick.

‘’I don’t know how much harder we could get. You fuck me senseless most of the time, Chris. How do you get hard so fucking quickly?’’ you asked

‘’It’s what you do to me. That’s all you. It remembers where it’s been and wants to go back. It’s like…home. Can’t blame it, really’’ Chris said throwing you a grin, and threw the razor into the sink with water, making a plopping sound.

He turned to you and wrapped his fingers around his shaft and stroked himself slowly and a moan escaped your parted lips as pre-cum formed on the tip of his dick, glistening in the light.

"Oh fuck," you moaned, and lifted your hand, curling your pointer finger, beaconing him,‘’Chris, baby…come here.’’

Chris grinned wider and stepped over the towel, as you shifted yourself and opened your legs even wider. When he stopped in front of you, sliding between your legs, you smiled at him and lifted your hand, then gently placed it on his soft, smooth cheek and brushed some foam off the tip of his nose.

‘’So smooth,’’ you said softly and tilted your head only slightly to the side and pressed your lips softly to the tiny nick on his cheek. ‘’I’m sorry,’’ you said, whispering this time.

‘’Just like you,’’ Chris said huskily, his hands gliding up your thigh, ‘’and I’ll take a million cuts for you.’’

"Turn around,’’ you murmured with a smile

Chris raised his brows, a curious look on his face, but his smile grew as he twisted, amazed at the power of so few words. With Chris between your legs, he felt your breasts press softly into his back as you wrapped your arms around him, sucking slowly on his neck. Your fingertips danced over his nipples, as you sunk your teeth into the flesh of his neck, drawing out a groan from him. His hands gripped your legs as you slid your hands down his torso, down his stomach and his dick twitched, the tip glistening with pre cum, anticipating your heavenly hands. Wanting desperately to taste him, you slid one of your hands over the head collecting his pre-cum, and you brought it up to your mouth as your free hand took over, grabbing his dick, your fingers curling around his thick, hard, long shaft.

Making sure you were close to his ear, you licked your fingers, softly, moaning, sending a shiver running up his spine, and goose bumps running down his arm.

‘’You taste so fucking delicious,’’ you whispered and began pumping him…slowly at first but progressively building it up to where he dug his fingers into your thighs and bucked his hips in rhythm with you. "Ohhh, ffffuck." he moaned, his breathing starting to labor, his grip on your thighs increasing. "Don't you cum," you whispered into his ear, squeezed harder, milking his dick, "Don't you fucking cum. Ride the edge, baby."

Chris was moaning, lost in the overstimulation. He felt his orgasm rise from within himself, his head falling back onto your shoulder and his body went rigid, his orgasm was about to swallow him whole. You knew all the tell-tail signs and you smiled, then released your hand around his dick. "Not quite yet, baby,’’ you said, wrapping your arms around him, as he turned his face so he could kiss you. You smiled at him, at his eyes completely glazed over and lost in the moment. His lips curved into a smile before he captured your lips, sliding his hand back into your hair and pulling you closer as his other stroked your thigh.

When the hungry, frantic kiss ended you giggled, "I'm sorry, baby. I want your cum in me. In my pussy." Chris turned back around, his dick trailing pre-cum as it dragged along on your thigh, his hands cupping your titties as he smiled.

‘’You’re gonna be the death of me. I fucking love you with an ache I’ve never felt before,’’ Chris said and dropped his hands onto the tops of your legs. He gave you a cheeky, devilish grin before he gripped them tightly and yanked them wider, making you gasp. You pushed your arms back to steady yourself, your hands flat on the countertop as Chris ducked between your legs. Looking down, Chris’s eyes slid up your body before his eyes met yours, his mouth just inches from your pussy. You both smiled and Chris’s eyes dropped again. He sucked in a breath when a drop of your sweet juice made a tiny rivulet and ran down your pussy, tempting, teasing him. He restrained himself from taking his dick and pushing into you, instead, he lifted his eyes again and slid his tongue over you. Your face scrunched up while your smile folded, parting your lips as you let the pleasure course through your body. Chris was a master – he knew exactly which spots to tongue fuck, lick, kiss, and suck.

‘’Oh fuck yes!’’ you moaned, rocking your hips, rubbing your slit over his mouth and tongue as he worshipped you, devouring your pussy. Chris groaned biting softly before pulling away slowly, but you lifted a hand off the counter and planted it on the back of his head, not wanting him to stop.

Chris laughed and shook his head slightly, hooking his arms around your thighs. He pulled you hard, your ass sliding on the counter top, bringing you even closer to him so you were melting into him. He lifted your ass off the counter and nothing could have prepared you for the way he ate you out.

‘’Jesus, Chris,’’ you moaned, throwing your head back as he reached your clit. He nudged it with his tongue and circled it over and over, drenching it in saliva before placing his lips on it, sucking wet and hard. You were gushing in his mouth, panting, searching desperately for your release. He placed your one leg over his shoulder to free a hand, bringing it to your pussy. He slipped two fingers in and released his lips from your clit for a second to smile – you were so tight and so wet, but he got back to work the second you ground your hips and moaned loudly.

‘’Yes, yes, yes Chris!. Fuuuuuck. I'm gonna cum,’’ you groaned and he pressed his face harder into your pussy. Moan’s bubbling out of you as your body quaked with pleasure and then went rigid. He slipped his fingers out as you ground your pussy into his mouth and gushed your wetness into it.

Chris sucked and swallowed, moaning as he drank your cum down all while making sure he had a good grip on you for when you came down from your pure bliss. When your legs started shaking, Chris pulled away from your pussy and watched you, enjoying watching all of you while making sure you were okay. "You eat pussy so fucking good," you said between breaths coming down from your high, smiling like the cat who got the milk. Almost. Soon. Chris gently lowered your leg as you slid back, and up into place, still shaking a little. ‘’Only for you baby,’’ Chris replied and placed his thumb on your chin, the rest under it, tilting your head up. ‘’You okay?’’

‘’More than. It’s time to fill my pussy,’’ you replied with a smirk

‘’I’m with you and more than happy to oblige,’’ Chris said and in one quick, smooth move he easily scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder while you squealed in surprise.

You laughed, draped over his shoulder, as his arm held your upper legs while you kicked with your lower legs as he turned, ‘’I unlocked the caveman!’’ you said through your laughter and smacked his ass.

‘’Fuck!’’ Chris said through a laugh and smacked your ass back, only harder. He knew it too, because he gently rubbed it as soon as the whack sound reverberated around the bathroom. He absolutely knew you could take it though – more than.

Chris wasted no time and threw you onto the bed as soon as he reached it. You squealed again, bouncing slightly, but you steadied yourself with your hands and feet on the cloud-like comforter. Chris grinned as he got onto the bed and steadied himself between your legs.

‘’I have a surprise for you. Let me up when you feel you’re at around the half way mark,’’ you said opening your legs wider

‘’Half way mark? Fuck, babe, how -’’ Chris said as he burst out laughing

‘’Just try,’’ you said, lifting a foot and putting it on his chest and pushing him playfully, chest heaving with excitement, eyes filled with need and lust, pulling your foot back on the bed again. Chris grinned, then grabbed a fistful of your hair, tilting your head back hard and kissing you roughly. "Alright then."

You winked at him when he pulled back and sat between your legs, his knees digging into the bed, grabbing his dick, slowly pumping it, knowing you loved it.

‘’Just fuck me,’’ you said gripping the duvet with anticipation and Chris grinned. He spit on your pussy making you close your eyes and drop your head back, as you took in a sharp intake of air. It was so fucking hot when he did that. Your eyes snapped open though when he pressed the head of his dick into you, also lowering himself to kiss you. Your pussy clenched on his dick head and you moaned into his mouth as he slid slowly into you. Your pussy squeezed and squeezed, then slowly relaxed as he pushed deeper into you, inch by inch.

This was Chris’ favorite part. You were ecstasy to him and when he was inside you, he was one with you. He raised his hips and pushed fully into you, moaning at how good it felt. The way you hugged and squeezed his cock…then he pulled back and started thrusting like an animal in heat. He plowed into you without reprieve, the room growing warmer each second. You clung to the comforter like your life depended on it, almost nonstop moaning and growling with pleasure as he bottomed out inside of you with each hard, savage thrust.

He had no idea how long he had been ploughing into your and neither of you really cared when his orgasm rose in him like a demon.

‘’Ohhh fuck, Chris,’’ you said through clenched teeth as your own orgasm reached new hights as he rammed balls deep into you, slamming into your cervix. Chris looked at you, his eyes locked, breathing hard not knowing what to do. You were about to cum and he would never deprive you…he adored when you came but he knew you wanted to tell him when the half way mark was…he was far beyond the half way mark.

You reached out and grabbed his forearms, digging your nails into his flesh as your eyes grew wide, your lips parted, drawing in air. Chris saw your lips move but he was lost in his own orgasm pushing forward. When you closed your eyes and let out a scream to deafen the deaf, and you’re juices splashed again him, Chris's orgasm hit hard, filling you with his cum.

He kept pumping into you, even as his body instantly wanted to relax. His dick was still hard, so it only took a minute or two before his body started reacting the way he wanted it to. You felt him fill you up but said nothing when he continued pumping inside of you. You could never get enough of him and it only meant you would cum again soon. Chris sat back after a few more minutes though and took hold of your thighs, just behind the knees, as he slowly pumped in and out, in and out before he came to a stop and pulled slowly from you, making you groan with the absence of his big dick in you. "You are so perfect," he said, admiring your naked body, ‘’I’m sorry baby. When you started cumming, I -’’ "You’re perfect," you said, cutting him off, your eyes smoldering with desire. ‘’Don’t worry about it…just let me on top.’’

‘’I…’’ Chris said with a laugh and you looked down at his still hard dick, covered in combined cum and you tilted your head.

Chris burst out laughing and grabbed his harder-than-steel dick and gave your pussy a smack, ‘’alright. Let’s go,’’ he said and then slid onto the bed, next to you, on his back. You grinned at him and threw a leg over him and immediately impaled yourself onto his shaft, causing Chris to groan and reached for a tittie with one hand as the other grabbed your hip. Everything about you excited Chris and he knew your body so well, but each time he was with you it was like exploring new territory.

‘’Baby,’’ you said after a few minutes, ‘’you ready?’’

‘’For what?’’ Chris asked, quizzically

Your answer was to give him a sly smirk and lifting yourself off his dick but kept the tip in. With all the juices you were soaking and it was easy to turn, spinning yourself around before dropping down again. The maneuver was quick and efficient, leaving Chris stunned and more than impressed. You wasted no time as you began working your hips up and down. You stretched forward and grasped Chris’ ankles as you leaned forward, giving him a fantastic view of your ass and his dick sliding in and out of your tight pussy. Chris groaned and smacked one of your ass cheeks, then dug his fingers into your flesh. "I wasn't ready for this view," he groaned out. You smiled to yourself, and bit your bottom lip – he had no idea what was coming. You looked over your shoulder at Chris wanting to see this play out, so you sat back up, pulling your hand up his legs and then, his thighs to massage his balls. You stopped moving your hips; he was nestled inside your pussy and wasn’t going anywhere. ‘’Ah that feels so fucking good,’’ Chris murmured but he narrowed his eyes slightly when your lips curved up even more. He knew you too well and knew you were up to something but he still wasn’t prepared for what you did next.

Your fingers found a spot at the base of his scrotum, and along with your pussy squeezing along his shaft, it sent him right over the fucking edge. It was like a sudden punch to the stomach, taking his breath away and shocking all his senses. Before he knew what was happening, he was pouring a tidal wave of seed into your pussy.

You watched as his eyes rolled back and his head fell into the pillow, his lips open, moaning so loudly as his fingers gripped your hips, sinking into your flesh. A few minutes passed while he was in an almost vegetative state. His eyes focus again, as you lay next to him, your head propped up on your hand as your elbow dug into a pillow. A smile hadn’t left your face and you raised your brows. You could almost see Chris’ brain rebooting. "Jesus y/n, I told you, you were going to be the death of me," he said, clearly exhausted but he pulled you into a hug and you folded into his arms, pressing yourself into him. You reveled in his warmth and pressed a kiss to his lips.

‘’I fucking love you,’’ he said kissing you back

‘’I love you more than I have loved in my life,’’ you replied and Chris started laughing

‘’What?’’ you asked him

‘’Told you, you were anything but a good girl…but I wouldn’t want you any other way,’’ he said, and pushed his lips to yours once more before getting up.

‘’That’s what I want to do to you every time I see you shave,’’ you said smiling as you watched him walk to the bathroom.

‘’Then for the first time, I’m so fucking happy I have to shave everyday,’’ he said from the bathroom and emerged with the piece of paper he had written on earlier. He handed it to you and you took it gingerly, as you sat up.

You unfolded it and read, ‘’I'm writing this because I know you’re going to want to fuck me before we leave the bathroom. GOOD GIRL.’’

You grinned up at Chris, ‘’you won your own bet and I’m still a good girl. How good was that…that just happened?’’

‘’Ah fuck,’’ Chris said with laugh, ‘’fine, you’re a good girl and it was amazing. I definitely want more of that…for the third time today, you’re going to be the death of me. Come on,’’ he said and grabbed you, lifting you up and throwing you over his shoulder again, ‘’time to shower.’’

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it and you are loved and appreciated!

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #chris x reader #chris x fem reader

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webslingingslasher · 2 years ago

Note

imagining frat!peter trying to last longer during sex so he starts to actually watch friends and forgets he’s literally inside y/n and she notices and just goes “…peter?”

the below contains smutty content.

usually there was music playing downstairs and while it was muffled it still filled the room, making it easier for you to confidently whimper and moan like peter loves.

tonight, you had snuck in around two in the morning, (peter’s pissed you didn’t tell him until you called him and told him to open the door cause it was two fucking am and you walked alone) because you were a new kind of desperate, foaming at the mouth with urgency horny. hornier than you’ve ever been in your entire life, obviously, because it made you get out of bed and walk across campus.

“for the love of christ do not tell me you walked here,” was the first thing he told you. your response was giving a sheepish smile and looking down to your feet, your pajama pants wet around the ankles from sprinklers on the campus green.

“my pants are wet,” you pull at the fabric and blink at your boy in the doorway. he sighs, and moves to the side letting you in it’s unusually quiet, while they did whind down during the week, usually one or two people would be up, tonight everyone was in bed.

the second the front door was shut you attacked peter and wrapped your arms around his torso, clinging around his neck. bringing your knee up to tap against his hip, his hand cups under your leg and picks you up, locking your ankles around his back.

“what are you doing here?” not upset, just curious. you’ve never rushed over in the middle of the night before.

in turn you kissed him, so brash it caught him off guard but he returned it. confusion spread as you kissed around his face, thinking of the most plausible thing he makes his grip tighter, his voice soft.

“did you have a bad dream?” your blown out pupils look at his mouth, shaking your head lightly you whisper out a ‘no.’

“then what is it?” his left hand scratches softly at the back of your thigh.

“i’m really horny,” you lick your lips and look at him like, ‘okay, now do something, please?’

peter nearly chokes on his spit, you’ve never flat out asked for it. instead using other signals like licking up his neck, or taking your shirt off and bouncing your breasts at him. tonight you were aching for it, and you were his girl. and he could never leave his girl high and dry.

“and what? couldn’t solve the issue on your own?” he feels you pout into the skin of his neck after you kiss it.

“you just do it so much better, and way less work on my end.”

peter exhales through his nose as a laugh, “i think it was more work to walk all the way here,” you give him a dopey smile, “isn’t it obvious how much i like you?” there were two ways to take the sentence, to protect both parties at stake peter takes it in the ‘wildly horny’ way.

two pats on your backside and you hop down, no other words spoken, just peter extending his arm towards the staircase and gestured for you to go up.

————

it was completely silent in his room, every kiss and whimper amplifies from the walls. embarrassed to wake his brothers you have a shy smile, “do you think you can make it like… not so quiet?”

peter’s already half naked, while he pulls away and reaches for his tv remote you remove your shirt and shimmy your underwear off.

hearing the familiar ‘dun dun’ of the app you look up, one row down and one click in was his saved shows and movies. number one was friends, immediately selecting it and pressing play episode from the last time he had it on for background noise.

you chewed on your cheek as he raised the volume, your legs pulled up so your knees were tugged into your chest.

“louder?” peter spoke over his shoulder.

“a little,” he clicks it three more times, you hum, “that’s good.” he tosses the remote to his desk and turns, you spread your legs and grin at him.

he’s right where you want him, he recives the message and slithers back up the bed, his hands wrapping around your knees and hooking them behind his shoulders. peter looks over your slick and blows cold air on it, you jolt and reach out to grab a handful of his hair.

“jesus christ, you weren’t lying.”

————

third episode of friends and you can’t remember the last time you had a fulfilling breath of air.

peter’s had you withering on the bed for an hour, taking his time using every part of himself to satisfy you.

tears blister your eyes while you dig your nails into his back, your hips rising from the bed to meet his, peter’s own breath hitched as he fucked into you.

peter pulled back slowly, his teeth sunk into his bottom lip as his brows furrowed. you know that look, it’s the look that says ‘no, i’m not fucking done yet.’ but you just feel so good, it’s the ‘your pussy is fucking lethal’ look.

catching sight of the TV, he thrust just as slowly as he pulled out, you hiss and pull at the back of his thighs to bring him in closer. when peter doesn’t move you try to do it for him, grinding your hips into his, but his attention is on the tv show, not the person his dick was in.

you whine and pull at his neck, when he gives you reaction you tug lightly on his dangling necklace.

“peter,” you buck your hips up and he gives a pity thrust, it’s enough to make you hum in delight, but he gives nothing else.

“peter, i need you, please?” the last word was in beg of his attention, can’t be he see how much you need him?

“shush, this is my favorite episode,” you grunt when he thrusts as deep as you can take him, while he hums watching monica and chandler kiss for the first time.

“if we switch to doggy will you please fuck me while you watch?”

a deep sigh, “if you insist.”

twenty minutes later you’re lured into sleep while posted on peter’s chest as he drags his hand up and down your naked back, melting in further when you hear him quote along with the show under his breath.

#peter parker blurb #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter smut #tasm!peter x reader #tasm! peter parker x reader #my writing #frat!peter

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sebsxphia · 1 year ago

Note

Imagine

Bob putting soft cock in his bunny so they can feel it grow and stretch them out

￫ a/n: oh goodness fucking hell yes please dear anon jesus christ i’m foaming at the fucking MOUTH rn 😵‍💫🤤

￫ c/w: cockwarming and p in v.

you’re pawing at his chest as you straddle him on the sofa, with your face nuzzled in between where his neck meets his shoulders and mouthing at his warm, bare chest.

“need you, bobby, please.” you softly whine.

he chuckles quietly before cooing at you. “i’ve got you, ‘m right here, bunny.”

one of his large hands is still cradling your head and letting his fingertips scratch your scalp. his other hand reaches down to the waistband of his grey sweatpants and pulls them down, freeing his soft cock. “it’s a little soft right now, bunny, but i’d never deny my sweetheart.”

the keenness of you rutting your hips along this thighs and hearing you needy whines, mixed with his hand giving it a couple of strokes, allows it to harden ever so slightly. it’s just enough so he can sit inside of you, but still soft enough that it doesn’t fill you whole.

you let out a huff of content breath at suddenly feeling so connected to bobby, before grinding your hips more. you’re still kissing and mouthing at his bare chest, with little groans leaving your lips.

“feels s’ nice, bobby. i like feeling you grow ‘n stretch me out.” you murmur against him.

bob lets out a silent, “oh.” before settling his large hands to your hips and moving them against his own. you whimper at each movement, being able to feel his tip nudge deeper inside of you and his shaft grow. you felt bob’s warm lips press against the shell of your ear and kiss you tenderly, with his voice soothing in your ear.

“does that feel nice, bunny? feelin’ my cock stretch out my sweet cunt? so good for me, letting me fill my sweet bunny whole.”

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sweet-as-an-angel · 2 years ago

Note

I’m foaming at the mouth thinking about laying könig on his back. Ghost is fucking him and reader is riding him at the same time. He deserves to be spoiled <3

Ghost, König and You

Wordcount: 1,589

Warnings: 18+, Submissive König, Dominant Ghost, Dominant Reader, Stomach Bulging, Big Dick Ghost and König, Anal Penetration, No Pronouns used for Reader except for ‘You’, Dick Riding, Teasing, Unprotected Sex, etc.

A/N: If you don't like this kind of content, don't flag it ! It really hurts us authors and our engagement ! Instead, consider changing your account viewing preferences so you aren't exposed to unwanted/NSFW content in the future :-), saving both you time and us the heartache. Here is a wonderful post which details how you can do just that <3

König's mouth hung open, his crown threatening to hit the headboard with every harsh thrust of Ghost's hips. He whined and gasped as he clawed at the bed sheets beneath him, trying something – anything – to ground himself. The sheets were coated in his sweat and liquids, perspiration beading on his forehead, mouth agape and drooling.

His bottom half was coated in his pre that had leaked down his shaft. With each slam of your hips against his, thin strands of love would connect the two of you, a wet, slapping sound filling the room, drowning out even a single cohesive thought in König’s head.

His weeping cock twitched inside you, bulging in your stomach as Ghost's did in his, throbbing, pulsing, pleading for release. His walls just barely allowed Ghost in, stretched out over his thick cock, a delectable burn sure to remain days after this ordeal. The knot in König’s stomach had only grown in these hours of torture, near ripping itself apart with its own size as Ghost's dick did to him, carving a bump inside him.

You hummed, head thrown back against Simon’s shoulder as he rutted behind you, shunting you with every savage thrust of his hips, making your hips rock against König’s. "Such a good boy for us, Köni," you told him, your eyes squeezed shut and hands gripping his chest, feeling his quivering, pounding heart beneath your fingers.

König could only moan, the ability to form full sentences having abandoned him long ago. Verging on tears, he couldn't take the forceful slamming of your hips, his walls tightening with each plough from Ghost. Simon’s grip on his thick thighs, flesh peaking between the valleys of his fingers, did little to ground König.

"I c-cant–" his voice was thin, high, laced with the need to sob. Ghost shushed him.

"Shhh, it's okay, Baby," came Simon's baritone. He grunted, ceasing for no longer than a second as he withdrew an inch or two, taking another angle and ramming back into König. König near-shrieked, his yelp tailing off into a moan as you leant down and pressed your lips to his, swallowing his doubts, his cries.

“S’okay, sweet boy,” you whispered. Your lips trailed from his down to his jaw, nestling in a soft spot between the bone and his neck. You lapped at the sweat that collected there. König shivered.

Simon’s hands slithered up from König’s thighs to your waist. His hands wrapped around your middle, and you both groaned. He could feel König’s cock pulsing in your stomach, a bump forming where you’d trapped him. He pressed down, making you whine and König drawl, moan, his back arching into you. Simon didn’t let up, a sly smile crossing his face.

One hand took yours and placed it upon König’s stomach, slick with sweat and something sticky. There, you felt Ghost piercing him, filling him past full. König whined, cowered, as your fingers crept along his middle. Looking back at Ghost, he nodded, and with a force you pressed down on König; not enough to crush the man impaling him, but enough that a strangled groan emerged from him, and a whimper from König.

Simon leaned in, rested his head upon your shoulder. “Takin’ him so well, Angel,” and he squeezed your waist, and, loud and sharp, you cried out, clenching even tighter. König, unable to handle the torment – the torture – yelled, his voice urgent and desperate as the plea that it was.

“Please, I can’t take anymore!” he cried. He tried thrusting up, but you pressed down on his stomach, making him yelp and become docile once more. “Please,” his voice was a whisper. Between slitted, tearful eyes, he looked up at you. “Please, mein Schatz – please let me finish,”

You looked down at König, the mountain you’d reduced to an anthill, and cast a glance at Ghost. His thrusts slowed, and, his chest heaving, he gave you silent confirmation – a look in his eye, a nod – to give König what he wanted.

Your attention returned to the whining, whimpering mess of a man caged beneath your legs. He was shuddering, body exhausted yet racked with enough euphoria to easily incapacitate two people. You slid your hands from his stomach to his chest, and raising your hips, glinted König a devious smile.

“You ready, Sweetie?” you said, a mocking tint to your voice. König no doubt noticed it, and whether out of fear or simply the need to cum, he didn’t acknowledge it. He only nodded, a string of rushed, needing ‘yes’s pooling from his lips as drool did whenever Ghost was pounding him face-down, ass-up into the pillows.

“You sure?” you teased. A look of sheer sorrow crossed König’s face as you denied him of his release. He tried reaching up to you again, almost knocking you off-balance as his hips shunted yours. When you regained your position, you scowled, took his face in your hand and squeezed. You felt him twitch inside you.

“Not until I say so.” Your voice was thunder, absolute, the lightning crack of a whip illuminating the simmering anger beneath the surface. Purely theatrical, of course; you found König’s display to be rather endearing.

Now, writhing and desperately trying not to, König nodded as incessantly as his energy would allow. You hummed, retracting and resuming your lion-esque position, hands on his chest, hips raised. Ready to strike.

Ghost hissed as he watched König’s cock become partially unsheathed, reaching a hand between the two of you to feel his soaking shaft, and the strands that tried desperately to keep you and König connected. His fingers trailed back to your hole, stretched wide over König and no doubt positively red and aching. A hum rumbled through his chest.

“I wonder what yours’ll look like when I fuck that tight arse of yours, Köni,” he said, withdrawing, nonchalant yet feral. König moaned, and, seizing the opportunity, you descended upon him.

Your rhythm was brutal, unflinching and positively cruel. König threw his head back into the pillows, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he took you and Ghost.

“Doing so well for us, Sweet Boy,” you cooed, resisting the urge to roll your head back as König hit just the right angle inside you. The behemoth only gave moans and gasps as a response, too fucked-out of his own mind to convey anything else.

Ghost gave his own input – encouragement – as he destroyed König. He reached a hand between you again, and, gently, took König’s balls into his palm, giving them a light squeeze. König writhed under Ghost’s touch, giving a tortured moan and rutting against you.

“God, such a sensitive little thing you are,” came Ghost, his fingers pulsing around König’s sack. “So raw after being fucked all night.”

König whined and you stifled a moan as Ghost’s words went straight between your legs and made the electricity building there spike, jolt. Then came Simon with a proposition. A command.

"You gonna cum inside (Y/N)?" His voice was as authoritative as his statement was demanding. And the thought made your insides clench, fixing König inside you. He groaned, a strangled, mangled moan entwined with it, his back arching into you. You smiled, dragging your hand up to trace the outline of his cock in your stomach again, pressing your palm flat against it. König all but squealed – shrieked.

"You can do it, Köni," you told him, voice soft and filled with love. "I know you can."

"I can–" König breathed heavily, exasperatedly, questioning rather than certain. Asking for permission. You rocked your hips against him, making his eyes clamp tighter.

"Come on,” you challenged. “Do it." You brought your lips to his ear and kissed the shell. "Cum inside me."

König couldn't take it anymore. With a final, laboured yell, his back arched, his hulking figure shivering and burning after the long night. His load was thick and heavy, filling you to the brim and then some. You moaned, giving yourself just a few more strokes on his cock until you were in a similar condition to him, emptying yourself onto him, globules of an unidentified mixture beading past your walls and racing down König’s shaft. He clenched his fists, knuckles turning white, his eyes squeezing shut.

Ghost’s hips stuttered behind you, and the accumulating force with which he destroyed König waned, once, for a beat, before he let out a strangled moan. His chest pressed to your back, skin sticking to skin, as he forced König to take every inch of him, submerging himself inside his hole to the hilt. You could almost feel the force with which his load erupted from him, pumping inside König and making him cower, cry out.

Both men panted heavily as their orgasms tore through them. In a cruel twist of fate, you took the liberty of pressing one hand to your stomach and one to König’s, smile twitching as you pushed down, making both behemoths fit in some way; Ghost more volatile than König as he grabbed your wrists and pinned them behind your back. Military. Tactical.

“You’ll pay for that, Sunshine,” he breathed, promised. His voice sent shivers down your spine, and you clenched around König, in turn making him clamp down on Simon, eliciting a weak moan from the mass of death who trembled between your legs, and another from the reaper at your back. Yet that did nothing to stop König from offering a sly smile, one which agreed wholeheartedly with Ghost and his claim.

Uh-oh.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

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starwikia · 10 months ago

Text

so like are we done with the idea that james is a victim of the internet harassment mob or whatever you guys like to call it when in reality no one like forced him to be part of the public eye again. he had multiple times to disengage but he threw himself head first into the spotlight with some half assed apology where he used his dead mom, illiterate dad, and like 293 mental illnesses that he was in the right to do a widdle plagiarism but it’s not his fault! it’s everyone else’s fault for not being nice to him about it!!! how dare these people bring these issues to the public not thinking how james would feel about it! like ppl are forgetting there was notable period of time james went off air entirely. and every time he’s jumped back it’s always attempts to paint himself as the victim.

like be real for a second if anyone was weaponizing the internet harassment machine it was james somerton. he knew what he was doing when he posted that note. he knew the shit his victims would get for having the crime of (checks notes) voicing out their issues with him. he knew there’s people out there who are foaming at their mouths to use anything they can get their hands on as a “gotcha!” at hbomberguy (right wing people yes, but don’t act like it’s just them i’ve seen plenty of lefties trying to prove they’re superior to harry). they don’t give a shit about james, not really. he’s the dude who hbomb did a “hit piece” (yes that’s a term i’ve seen people use) and that’s what matters.

not to mention the writing that’s also very clearly targeting nick who’s basically cut ties with him at this point. james pushed all the burden on nick by saying it’s their fault, actually. he’s one of the co-writers and everything going to shit was nick’s fault when they had the audacity to move. james is faultless! with james still trying to monetize stolen content on the blatant lie that he’s doing this for nick’s sake as a portfolio. acting as if nick isn’t an sentient human being who could upload their own content, as if nick would even want to be associated with james at this point. this isn’t a teenager being harassed for an honest mistake, this is a 35-year old con artist who’s stolen hundreds of thousands and peddled the most vile shit as actual history but realized he was in deep shit and weaponizes very serious mental health issues as a “i’m just a poor little gay baby!! my alter ego did it!!!”

for the record if you’re among the people who tried to wash down james’ crimes as “he just did plagiarism!! it wasn’t that bad of a crime!” fuck you, man. i’m not kidding.

the fact i’ve witnessed people whitewash his acts of racism, sexism, transphobia, homophobia, antisemitism and misogyny (in fact i’m probably still missing a few things here), and say he’s being harassed by the internet just because he stole articles makes it so clear they have no fucking idea what they’re talking about. his shit isn’t fucking erased just bc he realized that he has to handle the consequences. he’s grasping at anything he can at this point to make sure that even if he’s not coming back, he’s sure as hell trying to take anyone he fucking can down with him.

he doesn’t get a second chance to be a content creator at this point. he doesn’t get to show himself to do better. he needs to fucking leave. and if he tries to publicly make himself the victim then he better know that he’s going to get public backlash.

if anything situation proves to me that he can never be trusted with a public platform ever again because he will immediately guilt people into feeling sorry for him.

#i’m going to be bitchy about this for the record #james somerton #hbomberguy #the funniest option is if james fakes his death like a fourth time and someone takes a pic of him in like a burger king or something.#updated i’m not 100% sure on nicks pronouns but i’m using they them just in case #update 2: the way i was proven fucking right immediately after posting this. you people are not real.

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goingmerryfics · 9 months ago

Note

hello there :D i just saw the requests and could I request Eustass Kid and Killer for mute s/o?

Mute/Selectively Mute S/O w/ Kid & Killer

Content: Gender neutral reader, SFW content

Notes* Thanks for your request! I wanted to make this inclusive for both ends- those who know sign language due to their muteness and those who don’t and may just be selectively mute due to anxiety or otherwise. These two are some really interesting characters for this prompt, so I’m really happy to write it and I hope you enjoy it!

Kid

When you and Kid first met, he hated how you never answered anyone ‘properly’

He didn’t pay very close attention to you because you weren’t a bother, nor were you someone very spectacular in his eyes

You stayed out of his way, you did your tasks, and you kicked ass

He’d watch you interact with others and felt it was very one-sided.

People would ask you questions and you’d simply answer with a nod, a shake of your head, a shrug, or a note on a piece of paper

Or if you know sign, you would speak to Killer this way and he would translate

He didn’t understand why you wouldn’t just speak

Until Killer explained how you couldn’t

Kid’s immediate thoughts were that you just needed to get over being so ‘scared’ of everyone. If you were going to be a pirate, especially one on his crew, you couldn’t be a little coward

For someone who has anxiety, he really knows nothing about it

But for someone who literally could not speak because of an accident or just birth circumstances, he’d understand that way quicker

Either way, he’d avoid speaking to you, thinking that if he did it would only anger him to not be able to talk to you in the traditional sense. But then he started sitting in on conversations that included you, and he softened

You were so… Sweet. You were kind to everyone and, not surprisingly, a good listener

Then he actually started talking to you

He would keep all the little slips of paper that you wrote him when a yes or no wasn’t a sufficient answer

Flipping through them behind the closed door of his room, thinking about your smile, cursing as his heart pounded in his chest

It graduated to flirting, and around the time when the two of you became an item publicly enough for the ship to know about it, he started asking Killer to teach him sign, too

One day he surprised you by clumsily signing that you were ‘his favorite idiot’

It made you laugh, and you signed back a thanks to him with a few tears in your eyes

It takes him a while to get good enough to translate like Killer does, but he can get the jist of what you’re saying

Quickly sticks up for you if anyone makes rude comments (Similar to what he would have said back in the beginning)

If you have the ability to, eventually you begin to verbally speak to him in private and he’s so excited about it

The first time you spoke out loud to him, it was a ‘good night’ as you were about to leave his room to head to bed. He’d stopped in the middle of brushing his teeth and stared at you, and you had to laugh at how he looked

Eyes wide, toothpaste foam dripping out of his mouth

He pulls you into private rooms all the time after that if it means he can hear your pretty voice

Killer

Unlike Kid, it doesn’t take Killer long at all to figure out your situation and why you won’t speak to others.

Whether or not you use sign, Killer understands it and will be happy to translate for you to the others, which means you two end up paired up a lot, since he is one of the only people on the ship who you feel really understands you

But he really likes when it’s just you two. It feels special

You two will stay up late just talking in his room, well into the night, with only a small light on so he can still see your hands or notes

Despite never speaking a word, it’s like you two never have an end to the things you want to talk about with each other- which means that you two get very close very quickly

Truly a strangers to friends to lovers trope here

You begin to feel comfortable with him very fast, which leads the both of you to getting more and more openly affectionate with each other. Leaning on each other, giving hugs, etc

The thought of you two dating doesn’t come until other crew members point out how sweet on each other you are and asks the pair of you if you’re dating

The two of you share a look, and Killer answers, ‘Yes’ while you nod at the same time

You’re assigned as dating now, but it’s not different from before

If you’re able to, one day you work up the courage and comfortability to verbally speak to him

You planned this beforehand and had chickened out a few times, but you knew that he didn’t care whether you ever spoke to him or not. You would do this when it felt right

So when you’re sitting behind him and braiding his hair while he sits quietly, enjoying the feeling of your fingers in his hair, you lean over and tell him you love him for the first time

He gasps audibly, waits for you to tie his hair and then turns to face you and cup your cheeks

He quickly tells you he loves you too

In return for you opening up to him and just because he’s been wanting to, he takes off and leaves his mask off to the side

His eyes are gorgeous, and of course you tell him that

He asks for permission to kiss you

As soon as he gets the confirmation, he’s on you like a fly on honey, kissing you all over

#one piece #eustass kid #harleywritesop #hwop #massacre soldier killer #op killer #op eustass kid #one piece eustass #eustasscaptainkid #eustass x reader #killer one piece #killer op #one piece killer #one piece kid #killer x reader #kid x reader #eustass captain kidd #harleyasks

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citrinae · 1 year ago

Text

aphrodite.

sanji x reader

contents; self-indulgent fluff where you doubt your role at the sunny. he helps you wind up by preparing a bath. sprinkled with some explicit content here n there, worship, established relationships, mythology references, afab!reader, 1k. be gentle fam i'm rusty n down bad for this fool.

The muscles around your shoulders grow taut as you lower yourself into the tub, lukewarm water reaching just below your chest. Steam climbs up in ribbons and rolls in droplets off your forehead, off white tiles, off the fogged mirror that lingers at the grasp of your wingspan. Usually, it’s no news that it takes you longer than most to loosen up, but there’s been something about this day that rendered you specifically heavy.

Heavier.

Sanji’s arms wrap themselves around you, fingers pressing into skin with an eerie gentleness, and you expect your body to tighten even more at the touch, but it doesn’t.

“There,” he rests his chin between your shoulder and neck. “doesn’t this make you feel better, sweetheart?”

(It was him who came up with this, naturally.

After finding you slumped across some barrel by the docks, he deliberated that a meal alone wouldn't be enough to put you back on your feet. Exhaustion was swirling and defocusing your vision, “Maybe this life isn’t for me.” And who could've blamed you for it? You owned feet that weren’t made for running. Fists that couldn’t break through anything. Worse still, a mind that failed any attempt to deceive. You weren’t sure what it was exactly that interlaced your fate with that of the Straw Hats’. So when their captain had offered you his earnest smile and a place on his ship, you couldn’t help but look back with a raised eyebrow. “This has to be a mistake. You must be joking.”

Right?

And now, as the hissing sound of lighter snapped you back to reality, you remembered part of why you were still willing to try.

Sanji exhaled through the mouth. “It wounds me to know you like this, dearest,” he said, his eyes shut. “Is there anything I could do to see the sun cast its light upon your lips once more?”

Your gaze rolled to the side, but there was no hostility there, no strained tone asking to be left alone. He eventually made up his mind by informing that something shall wait for you at the inn the crew voted to rest at for the night. You let him place a peck on your forehead, watched him back to his chores while humming a tune he knew you’d enjoy.)

A blue blossom floats by your left knee; you fix it absently as you drag your legs closer to your chest. “Maybe, a little,” you admit, leaning your head against his. He smells of nicotine and peach shampoo.

“I’m glad,” he tells you. It comes out in a prolonged sound that feels like relief. He needs you unscathed like a priest servicing their temple. “Aphrodite,” you remember him confessing, once, as you lounged together on the white-hot flooring of the deck. “Gods carved your face from the foam of the sea and blessed me with the touch of your gaze.”

(But that was at the beginning of everything. Back when his intentions towards you were uncertain and you knew better than looking too deeply into speeches he pathetically coaxed every woman with. He could be like that, you know—hospitable when no one asks for it. The Moirai, all three, could come aboard swaying their hips in his direction and he’d send them home with a box of chocolates and a piece of poetry each.

Sanji’s ovations were not sentiments; they were habits.

Yet after weeks of hovering in your proximity, you could tell that, unlike the others, you were cherished in silence—as if you were a shrine to be visited by him and him alone, un chef-d'œuvre, “j'peux pas détacher mes yeux de toi.”

Then you began to shamelessly spend time in the kitchen, and you enjoyed watching his elbows move above the cutting board, chains shifting across his hips as he stretched to grab a jar of something from the upper shelves. Sanji began, in turn, to wait for you with morning notes attached to cupcake liners and picks of your favourite teas steaming from the stove, his shirt loose with one more button unfastened and spices reorganised near the counter you usually sat on. Before you noticed, each segment in his kitchen would be placed to harmonise with you.

And at lunch you would instinctively search for his gaze, only to notice he was already memorising you down to each curve, pore, line on your face. You’d find yourself pinning it on clumsiness when, under tables, the tip of your shoe brushed his ankle ever so slightly.

How often did you try to convince yourself he looked at you the same way he looked at any other. Because you were. Like any other.

Soon the same ovations would fall like honey from the tip of his tongue as he pressed you against the wall of the storage room, mouthing thanks for stretching your folds so well around his fingers and for the expectant look in your eye as his touch was searing the skin under your shirt. His breath would catch by your breast when he heard your voice cry out so delightfully sweet for him. And you would have him, kissing your tights, devouring your slit like prayer; because why wouldn’t you?

How could you deny you this, when he was making you feel like you were the only living being in the Universe?)

“Sanji,” you start, unsure how to continue from here, urging him to turn his head at the sound of his name. “Thank you. I—” lifting your hands over his. “I really needed this.”

Silence; Sanji takes it graciously as he reaches for the sponge across from you and soaks it in the water.

“I understand if you don't want to talk about today,” he says, softly caressing your back. “But please know I’m here, always, if you ever need an ear to listen.”

“Heard and heeded.” A smile sprouts at the corner of your lips. “But for now, just stay with me,” and it takes you a minute to get to the last part. “Please.”

And this isn’t something he would admit out loud; maybe just in the dimness of your bedroom dazed with your legs pressing around him. But he yearns to feel needed just as much as you need to acknowledge your worth.

“Darling,” Sanji stops the sponging to leave a small kiss on your shoulder. “I can’t recall when that was ever a struggle for me.”

#one piece x reader #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader

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cosmal · 2 years ago

Note

Baby I’m thinking about this TikTok prank I’ve seen going around where the wife tells her husband she’s going to sleep on the couch tonight, as a prank, and all I can think of is doing that to James… imagine, imagine his reaction, all like “no!” And then “wait why?” And all sad and soft about it like what happened I’ll sleep on the couch if you want space you can have the bed … ugh

pranked

summary — you prank james. he’s way too nice.

content — james potter x fem!reader

Sirius sent you the video days ago. Viral footage of a wife telling her husband she’s sleeping on the couch for the night. He had thought it was hilarious Pls try this on james. $20 bucks he’ll cry.

You hadn’t had a proper chance until tonight. You’d had some disagreement about something so tiny, so irrelevant that you thought it was the right time. Something about rinsing out the dishes before they go in the dishwasher.

You can hear James getting ready for bed and decide to go up to your room and make a scene. He’s coming out of your ensuite, toothbrush in his mouth when he sees you pulling your pillows off the bed.

“What’re y’doing, love?” he asks over the foaming toothbrush, swallowing spit.

“Getting my stuff,” you mumble, moving to the basket by the dresser. It’s sort of foreign to be so blunt with him and for a moment you almost decide to not do it.

He takes the brush from his mouth, licking his lips to keep his spit in, “What for?”

You bundle the pillows and blankets up, “M’gonna sleep on the couch tonight.”

James leans around the corner to spit in the sink, peaking back around he says, “What?”

“I’m gonna spend the night downstairs,” you tell him again, face full of a mountain wool.

“Why?” he asks, voice all pitched up and confused.

“I just,” you stammer when he frowns, “I just need some space.”

“Oh,” he says. He steps forward and you think about stepping backwards for a moment but decide against it. You’re not cruel. “Right.”

His sad face has your stomach churning. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Wait, baby,” he says, half a tone away from frantic, “You sleep on the bed, I’ll take the couch.”

You blink. “What?”

He takes his own pillows, all stuffed up in his arms until you can’t see half of his face. You almost want to laugh. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No, James—” You press your lips into a line, holding back a bubble of laughter.

“I don’t want you sleeping on the couch,” he says, half fond, half stern. “I’ll sleep down there and we can talk in the morning.”

“James, I’m sorry—”

“It’s okay,” he smiles gently. You melt.

“No, it was just a joke,” you say quickly. “It’s okay, I’m not mad.”

James drops the pillows in his hands and they tumble off the bed, “A joke?”

“Yeah, I’m super sorry. Sirius sent me this video of this wife telling her husband she’s sleeping on the couch and he said I should try it.” Your words come out all mushed up and a little sticky. You hadn’t imagined him to react this way, you’re not sure why because he’s lovely and he’d do anything you him to. You imagine him sleeping in the backyard.

“Sirius?” he asks, a grin playing at the corners of his lips. They tremble and he bites the bottom one.

“Yeah,” you pant. You feel suddenly embarrassed. Your face heats and you cover your cheeks with your hands, pushing your fingers into your warming skin. “God, I’m sorry.”

James rounds the bed and you close your eyes. You can’t look him in the face. You’re not surprised when he wraps his arms around you, pinning your elbows into your chest.

“What did you expect me to do?” he asks softly. He sounds like he’s about to burst into a fit of laughter.

You shrug and your shoulder nudges his jaw. “I don’t know. I thought it’d be funny. I just feel bad now.”

“Sweetheart,” he coos. You feel even worse. Not as much so when his laughter rumbles up his chest.

“Stop.” You hide your face and mumble into his shirt.

He holds your head close, “I’m sorry.”

“Stop being so nice, you were supposed to argue with me or something.”

James laughs at your grumbling. “Since when do you listen to what Sirius shows you?”

“I don’t know. He bet me twenty you’d cry.”

“You wanted me to cry?” He asks incredulously.

“No, I wanted to win twenty quid!” You laugh, pulling yourself from his chest.

“Right,” he says grinning. He moves his hands to your face and you pray you don’t feel as warm as you did. He pushes his hands into your hair, thumbs pressing your cheeks.

“I’m sorry, James,” you say quietly. James has to bite back more laughter. It’s easy when you pout, he feels a bit sad.

“Christ, you’re adorable,” he laughs all things fond and sticky. You crumble. “It’s okay, sweetheart. It was a joke.”

“Okay,” you mumble, not very pleased.

He kisses your cheek until it apples. “Now let’s go get out twenty quid, huh?”

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onceonafullmoon · 11 months ago

Text

Convos With Rin

Rin x Gn! Reader

No warnings! Just pure fluff, also you can ignore the last 2 lines if you want to read this as platonic!

Aka: maladaptive daydreams by yours truly that I cleaned up and formatted. Part 2 here

“Sometimes I wonder if the idealized, romanticized version of relationships I’ve built up in my head are subconsciously affecting my navigation in reality.”

“What?” Rin asks, rolling over from where he lies on his bed to look at you, his teal eyes switching from his phone to glance over at you.

“Sorry, that was word vomit.” You say waving a hand dismissively before speaking again. “It’s just… I mean that I wonder if my expectations of romantic relationships have been distorted because of all the media I consume. And I wonder if that would ruin any chance I have of a healthy relationship.”

You absentmindedly start fiddling with your fingers as you speak.

“Like, for example dating sims, every love interest is over possessive and jealous, and that’s fine, cause it’s a fantasy. And obviously it’s not endorsed in real life, because if you date someone who foams at the mouth every time you look at another man, you’ll have issues. But… sometimes I wonder if I’ll think back to those dumb games when I’m in a relationship and choose something unhealthy for myself.”

A comfortable silence lapses after your ramblings and you wait patiently for your best friend's response.

“…you sure do think a lot more than I expected.” He says after a while and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“Wow thanks.” You drone out. “You know what? I’d rather you have just flipped me off and called me a dumbass than whatever attempt of a compliment that was.”

“Didn’t mean it like that, I meant that I’d never once thought about that.” He says cooly, in a way that makes you unfairly jealous of his demeanor.

“Yeah? Well, I’m not surprised. Your brain is composed of 50% football and the other half is basic motor skills. I doubt you’ve even thought of anything outside of that.”

“…not true.”

“Oh yeah, you’re right. Somewhere, squeezed between the cracks of those key areas, is your vast knowledge of horror trivia.” You joke, your eyes darting over his sprawled form.

“…” He hesitates to respond before muttering out. “That’s not what I meant.”

“What’d you mean then?”

“…nothing, never mind.”

“Oh boo, you whore.” You scoff, sitting up in his desk chair to devote your attention to him. “Come on tell meeee! I tell you everything… well, almost everything but— nonetheless…”

He glares but you simply smile at him before waiting eagerly for him to finally loosen his tongue and spill whatever he has locked away from you.

And maybe deep down he knows that there’s no winning against you because he ends up opening his mouth to speak.

“I…I think about romance sometimes.” He eventually admits, his eyes darting back to his phone in embarrassment.

“Oho?” You straighten up further, a goading grin on your face much to his annoyance. “Our little Rinrin is growing up!”

“Fuck you, this is why I don’t tell you shit.”

“Aww come on, I won’t tease you anymore I promise! Please tell me more!” You practically beg, looking at him with prying eyes.

“This is lame.” Rin scoffs.

“You’re lame! Romance is perfectly natural. Anyways, is this a crush? A passing fantasy?”

“Why do you care so much?”

“I live vicariously through my friends’ love lives, now spillll!” You say, dragging out the last syllable deliberately to piss him off.

“I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Why not?” You say a pout on your lips.

“Because you’re annoying and you’re only asking to make fun of me.”

“What? Me?” You gasp out in faux surprise. “Never, could I ever make fun of you, after all you’re my dearest most important–”

“Save it.” He cuts you off, content to ignore you now, engrossed in his phone.

“Kill joy… I’ll get it out of you one of these days.” You say darkly before leaning back to sulk in his chair.

“Over my dead body.” He mutters, but if you looked over to him again, you’d see the tell tale way his gaze fell back to you.

Unfortunately for you, Rin’s crush would stay a secret for just a little while longer.

#bllk x reader #blue lock #blue lock fluff #blue lock x reader #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi brothers emotional constipation ftw

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gilverrwrites · 5 months ago

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But IMAGINE it. Sucking Roman's cock while Jason is lapping up your pussy (He's tied up). Roman making him lick his cum off your body and then edging him with YOUR pussy 🥵 I have so many thoughts

DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, non-con/dub-con, daddy kink, public humiliation, probably more.

Oh, I’ve been imagining it.

But to start with you...

Imagine Roman edging Jason with your pussy, as part of the brainwashing. He’s bloodied and bruised, tied down as you ride tip to base, as slowly as possible. “Isn’t she so warm and tight? Good boys and girls get to play together, wouldn’t that be nice. I could untie you, let you fuck her however you want. Don’t you want that baby? Don’t you want to be a good boy? Or would you rather keep acting like a brat? Either way, I’ll get mine.”

“I see the way you looked at her, isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?”

Or Roman having you hover over Jason’s face, just close enough for him to taste the remnants of your wet pussy dripping down onto his face while Roman’s playing with you. “Don’t you want a taste kid? Just say ‘Daddy, I’ll be good for you. Daddy, I’m all yours’ and you can eat to your hearts content.”

“Doesn’t it feel so good to do as you’re told? Don’t you worry that dumb head of yours, I’ll do the thinking, just keep behaving and I’ll make sure you get what you need.”

And then, the things I've been stewing on...

Been imagining making out to Jason, real sloppy and wet while Roman slides his cock between both your lips. Taking turns seeing who can fit more of his cock down their throat. Imagine Jay whose never sucks a dick before using your lipstick marks as goalposts, his eyes watering, feeling Roman’s cock throbbing against places Jason never thought possible. It’s a moot point tho, he’ll make sure the whole thing is buried in each of your throats in turn, right up until your noses are crushed against his wiry pubic hair, making you choke around it when he’s good and ready.

Whoever isn’t sucking can occupy themselves by lapping at his balls, or even his ass if he’s feeling real nasty. He's always feeling nasty.

Imagine him having you compete, who can get off from riding his legs, and nothing else first. One on either side, humping like the good, mindless little sluts you are. Loser has to lick the winner's cum off of his leather dress shoes, while the winner gets to ride his cock.

Jay would look so beautiful, bouncing on top of Roman, taking it in the ass for the first time while you're slobbering on his dick. Muscles taut, skin pink, brainlessly babbling, telling his tormentor how he's never felt so good before. Thanking Roman over and over again for breaking him.

Imagine Jason, with all that size and strength bending you around yourself and holding you in position, treating you like a ragdoll, holding you like he’s a pedestal. Who needs ropes and chains when Jason is more than sufficient.

And a side note, when he does crack. Imagine Bruce's reaction when he sees some trashy tabloid headline: ‘WAYNE CHILD JASON TODD SPOTTED ABOUT TOWN WITH CRIMELORD BLACK MASK’ Accompanied with a photo of Jason in something Roman has picked out, something meant to be humiliating; Like a cop top, short shorts. Maybe even some cross-dressing? A leash and collar, on his knees.

Not only would Roman fucking love to publicly humiliate Jason Todd, who he already canonically does not like. But for it to also be a big fuck you to Brucie, who he hates, he’s in heaven.

I have many, many other thoughts also, but please anon, feel free to share more. I am foaming at the mouth. PLEASE

#anon #evil anon #thanks for the ask #gilverranswers #black mask #roman sionis #jason todd #red hood #tw noncon #i wonder how many people follow me for my cuter batboy stuff #the fluff and the relatively healthy relationships #and then get smacked in the face with this shit #divider by @anitalenia

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mononijikayu · 5 months ago

Text

that's all.

GENRE: alternate universe - reincarnation

WARNING/S: romance, domesticity, fluff, family, break up, comfort/no comfort, angst, trauma, implied death, hurt/comfort, character death, depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, depiction of graphic content,depiction of emotional breakdown, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief;

WORD COUNT: 5.9k

masterlist

series masterlist

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Gojo Satoru thinks that it was hard to understand why it keeps repeating over and over again, like it was a rewind on those VHS tapes. But he wonders why it always stops at some point. He feels like he's going crazy. His cerulean blue eyes flickered into the frigid, cool morning air.

When he woke up, it was like a loop. All the memories of the past rolling in over and over again. The day he met you on his twentieth birthday, seeing how brightly your eyes beamed at him to greet him.

Your first date on Christmas day, your laugh when the chocolate milkshake's foam stuck to his lips. He thinks he knew you were the one then, and he didn't waste time—when you got married only two months later. Together for nearly twenty years of happiness, nearly twenty years of nothing but love.

He wanted to continue seeing that loop over, he was sure. It wasn't just that you were happy. He was afraid of what comes next. He was afraid of seeing the damage he had caused such a beautiful life.

There was a comfort in the routine of the memories, a solace in the certainty of the past. But beneath the surface, a current of dread pulled at him, reminding him of the choices he couldn't undo. He could see it all in perfect clarity—the laughter, the whispered promises, the gentle touch of your hand in his. Yet, the loop would inevitably lead him to the moment where everything started to fray.

He was terrified of confronting the truth, the truth that lay beyond the boundaries of those cherished memories. The truth that he had failed you, failed to nurture the love that had been his greatest treasure. He feared the emptiness that loomed ahead, the vast, uncharted future without you by his side.

When that part played, he couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand how much of a fool he was, how he had hurt you. He had a hard time, trying to relive this moment again. Because, if there was any regret in that first life, it was making you the saddest creature in existence.

You stood in the dimly lit living room, tears streaming down your face, your voice trembling as you asked, "Is this it? Is this over?" Your eyes searched his, desperate for an answer, for anything that would make sense of the unraveling before you.

He sat on the edge of the couch, his hands clasped together, his gaze fixed on the floor. Words lodged in his throat, heavy and unspoken, as he struggled to find the courage to speak. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out—only silence, the kind that echoed with unspoken regrets and lingering doubts.

"After everything we've been through," you continued, your voice breaking, "how can you just sit there and say nothing? Do I mean so little to you now?"

His heart ached at your words, each one a sharp reminder of the hurt he had caused. He knew you deserved so much more than his silence, but the fear of admitting his failings kept him mute. He wanted to tell you that it wasn't you, that it was never you. That he had let the weight of his own insecurities and fears cloud the love he felt.

Finally, he managed to whisper, "I’m sorry. I just…I don’t know how to fix this."

The weight of his mistakes bore down on him like a heavy fog, clouding his vision and suffocating his spirit. He felt that for the rest of his life after your divorce. He longed for the life that had slipped through his fingers, the life that had been filled with the sound of children’s laughter and the warmth of a loving home.

He often wondered what might have been if he had chosen differently, if he had nurtured the love they had instead of letting it wither. He pictured the family they might have had, the milestones they would have celebrated together, the legacy they could have built. It was a bittersweet dream, a haunting reminder of all he had forsaken.

He closes his eyes again. He takes a deep breath. He was hoping that this time he'd find his way toward you. He longed for the chance to prove himself worthy of the love you had so freely given. He knew it would take more than words and promises; it would take action, change, and an unwavering commitment to healing the wounds he had caused.

As he stood there, the morning light filtering through his eyelids, he could only sigh. You probably don't remember him in this life. That he was certain. He didn't know where to start either. But he knew that he'll find you.

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Gojo Satoru hadn’t expected to see you again, especially not after so many years. Entering medical school was a new chapter for him, one he had hoped to share with you, but you had vanished from his life without a trace.

He had searched for you, hoping for a chance encounter or a familiar face in the crowd, but you were nowhere to be found. Eventually, he resigned himself to the idea that life would go on, even if it meant moving forward without you.

He sat at the bus stop, the evening chill settling in as he waited for the last bus home. The streetlights flickered above, casting a warm glow on the pavement as people hurried past.

The sound of footsteps approached, and he looked up to see you standing there, a familiar sight that sent a jolt through his heart. You wore a checkered pastel sweater, the same one you had loved so much back then.

Your voice was soft, almost tentative, as you spoke. "I think I remember you from somewhere." you whispered, the words muffled by the tight echo of your sweater.

Satoru’s heart skipped a beat. He could only manage a sly smile, though a pang of sadness twisted within him. It was both a joy and a heartbreak to see you again. He remembered everything about you—how warm your hands were, how kind they felt against his skin. Yet here you were, uncertain, unable to place him in your memory.

"Do you?" he asked, his voice tinged with a blend of hope and nostalgia.

You studied his face, searching for something familiar, something that would unlock the memories buried deep within. "We met before, didn't we?" you said, a hint of recognition dawning in your eyes.

He nodded, the smile on his face softening. He was sad for sure. But it was what it was. You were here, alive. That's all that matters. And he was alive. You guys were here, together. "Yeah, we did. It’s been a while."

There was a pause, a moment where the world seemed to stand still, as if granting you both a brief reprieve to reconnect. The noise of the city faded into the background, leaving only the two of you in the quiet space. He could see it, the way you were trying so hard to concentrate. To not disappoint. You still had the same

"We....attended the same school, remember?" He tries to clear up. He doesn't want to make it awkward for you.

"I'm sorry." you said, your voice apologetic, "I wish I could remember more."

Satoru shook his head, his smile reassuring. "It’s okay," he replied.

The bus arrived, its doors sliding open with a hiss, but neither of you moved to get on. Instead, you stood there. Satoru glanced at the arriving bus, then back at you. You both were from a different area of town, he thinks. The next one coming is his. He has got to shoot his shot now. A determined grin spreading across his face. He felt a familiar warmth in your presence, even if your memories were still catching up to his.

"So," he said, trying to muster his trademark confidence but ending up sounding more awkward than suave, "since we're both here and all, maybe we should, you know, hang out sometime? I like you. But I just....you get what I mean? Like a…date? If you’re into that kind of thing, I mean."

You raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you watched him fumble for words. You must think he's such a loser. He could feel his ears turn red. You grinned at him, walking to him. You must think he's a weirdo now. He readies himself for a rejection, maybe even a slap.

"Are you asking me out like that?" you teased, enjoying the sight of the usually composed Satoru looking a bit flustered.

"Uh, yeah," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I mean, it’s not like we have to, but it could be fun. We could catch up, and I promise not to bore you with medical jargon or anything. I swear too, I'm not a creep."

"That feels like something a creep would say."

"I promise you, I swear! I'm a really good boy. I'll send you references that can vouch for me."

"And you sure they won't lie to me about you?"

"I promise, they'll be brutally honest!" He crosses his heart, raising his hand like a pledge. "Ieiri Shoko, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento-"

"Oh, wait, you're the annoying shitty glasses Nanami talks about?" You point at him, causing him to be taken aback, his mouth opening. "He rants about you when we're doing calculations at Aerodynamics! He says you're the worst person in his life!"

He could feel his face turn redder than ever. "Fuck, that's how you know me? Not the handsome, flamboyant boy in our high school?"

"Sorry." You shake your head, covering your mouth as you laughed.

"It's.....fine. I guess its better than you not remembering me."

Your laughter rang out, bright and cheerful, as you nodded. "Okay, okay," you said, still giggling. "I’d like that. Let’s make some new memories, hm? Better ones than this."

Satoru’s heart leaped at your response, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at himself. "Great! So, maybe dinner and a movie? Or do people still do that? Maybe there's a more trendy thing now. Oh, I know! We could go to that new cat cafe—"

You cut him off with another laugh. "Dinner and a movie sounds perfect," you said, smiling warmly at him. "But maybe we can save the cat cafe for another day."

"Deal." Satoru replied, grinning from ear to ear. "I promise it'll be the best date you've had in years…or, you know, at least not the worst."

The bus finally departed without either of you, leaving you standing together under the streetlights, your shared laughter and the promise of a new beginning filling the air. As you exchanged phone numbers, Satoru couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe this was fate’s way of giving him another chance, and he was determined not to let it slip away.

"See you soon, then," you said, waving as you turned to leave, your smile still lingering.

Satoru watched you go, his heart light with the prospect of rekindling what was lost. "Yeah," he called after you, "see you soon!"

As you disappeared into the night, Gojo Satoru chuckled to himself, shaking his head at how he had managed to bungle the smooth-talking act. But he didn’t mind. You had said yes, and that was all that mattered.

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You and Satoru quickly fell into a comfortable rhythm, and he was happy—truly happy. The universe had given him a second chance in this life with you, and he was determined to cherish every moment.

He found immense joy in getting to know this version of you, marveling at how similar you were to the one he had loved in his other life. You were still kind, so beautiful, and the same wonderful person he had fallen in love with.

Life together felt natural, as if no time had passed. After a whirlwind romance, you decided to move in together again, finding a cozy apartment filled with light and laughter.

It wasn't long before you stumbled upon a scruffy little dog on the street, its big eyes pleading for help. Without a second thought, you both decided to adopt it, giving it a warm home and a loving family.

The dog quickly became part of your lives, bringing chaos and joy in equal measure. It was a small thing, but it solidified your bond and brought endless moments of happiness. Satoru loved watching you interact with the dog, your shared laughter echoing through the apartment.

Every day felt like a new adventure, and Satoru couldn’t believe how content he was. Whether it was cooking dinner together, taking long walks in the park, or simply sitting on the couch with the dog nestled between you, he treasured it all. He often found himself watching you with a fond smile, amazed at how lucky he was to have this second chance.

"You know," he would say, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you both watched the sunset from your balcony, "I think this is the happiest I’ve ever been."

You would smile back at him, your eyes shining with warmth and affection. "Me too, you know?" you’d reply, resting your head against his shoulder. "I’m glad we found each other, Satoru."

And in those moments, with you by his side and the dog curled up at your feet, Satoru knew he was exactly where he was meant to be. He had been given a precious gift—a chance to love you all over again—and he was determined to make the most of it.

You lay down beside him on the soft grass in your backyard, gazing up at the night sky. The stars twinkled above, casting a serene glow over the world. Satoru turned his head from the stars to look at you, feeling a sense of contentment he hadn't known in a long time.

You shifted slightly, your voice soft and reflective. “You know, I used to make paper cranes and think that they could reach the sky.”

Satoru raised an eyebrow, curious. “Why did you think that?”

You smiled, your gaze still fixed on the stars. “Because aren’t paper cranes the ones that carry the wishes of humans to the gods?”

He chuckled softly, the sound warm and genuine. “I suppose that makes sense. They are meant to be symbols of hope and wishes.”

You nodded, a playful glint in your eye. “I used to imagine that each crane I folded was sending my wishes up to the stars, hoping that they would reach some divine place and be granted.”

Satoru smiled, his heart swelling with affection. “And what did you wish for back then?”

You turned to look at him, your eyes shining with a mix of nostalgia and warmth. “I wished for a life filled with love and happiness."

He took your hand, squeezing it gently. “Did you get your wish?"

"Yes." You whispered back at him, squeezing back. "I did."

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Gojo Satoru entered the floor once again for his residency shift, ready to tackle another busy day. The halls buzzed with the usual activity, doctors and nurses moving with purpose as they attended to patients. As he made his way to the locker room, he spotted Ieiri Shoko, his longtime friend, his fellow doctor in training, heading straight for him.

"Satoru," Shoko called, her expression serious, "Can I....Can we talk for a minute?"

"Sure, Sho. What's up?" he replied, following her down the corridor.

She led him to a quiet room and closed the door, her demeanor uncharacteristically somber. "There’s something you need to know," she said, her voice low. "Someone came in today."

Satoru's first thought was that it might be you, stopping by for a surprise visit. "Was it my love, hm? Did they come to see me?"

Shoko hesitated before shaking her head. "Not exactly. I want to show you something first."

She handed him a folder containing medical records from earlier that day. As Satoru scanned the documents, his eyes widened in disbelief. His heart sank as he read through the notes, his mind racing to make sense of what he was seeing.

"Is this real?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Are these records really about them?"

Shoko nodded, her eyes filled with empathy. "I’m afraid so. I thought you should know."

Satoru’s mind reeled with the information, his thoughts a jumble of worry and confusion. He didn’t remember how long he stayed like that, frozen in time. The last time it was him, and he had hurt you. But this time…this time…

His hand shook as it clenched into a fist. You were already happy together. Why does this have to happen now?

This was a lethal one. He couldn't believe it, how your brain was killing you. No wonder when you first met…he shouldn’t have known. He should have. He pressed his lips into a flat line as his mind tried to dig through memory after memory of you. He was—he was about to be a doctor. How could he have not noticed?

The thought gnawed at him, a relentless accusation that echoed in his mind. The medical records had laid bare the harsh reality: the diagnosis, the prognosis, the path ahead. It was as if the ground beneath him had shifted, leaving him unsteady and disoriented.

After a few moments, he managed to thank Shoko, his voice distant and detached, before leaving the hospital. His heart was heavy with the knowledge he now carried, a weight that seemed too much to bear.

He walked to the parking lot and sat inside his car, closing the door and sealing himself in a cocoon of silence. He stayed there, unmoving, for god knows how long. The world outside blurred into a haze, unnoticed and unimportant.

Then, the dam inside him broke. He sobbed, his body wracked with the force of his grief. He cried for you, for the life you had built together, for the future he feared might slip away. He cried for the guilt that clawed at him, a relentless whisper that insisted this was somehow his fault.

Had he been better to you, had he been good to the world—maybe this wouldn’t be happening to you. Maybe you wouldn’t be facing this battle. He had always thought of himself as strong, capable of handling whatever life threw his way. But this? This was different.

He felt powerless, a sensation he was unaccustomed to, and it terrified him. All the training, all the knowledge he had gained in medical school seemed meaningless now. He was supposed to be the one who fixed things, who healed. And yet, he couldn’t fix this. He couldn’t make this go away.

The realization crashed over him, wave after wave, until he was left feeling hollow and spent. The tears slowed, leaving a profound emptiness in their wake. Satoru sat in the quiet of his car, the echo of his sobs lingering in the air.

Finally, he took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to gather the fragments of his resolve. He knew he had to be strong for you, to support you through whatever came next. You deserved that, at the very least.

With trembling hands, he started the car, knowing he had to return home to you. He needed to see you, to hold you.

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When Satoru arrived home, he found you sitting at the dining table, your hands deftly folding paper into intricate shapes. The sight was both familiar and comforting, and he paused in the doorway, watching you as though he were trying to burn the image into his memory.

Your dog greets him, running up to him. He tries to be cheerful in front of your dog. He presses a kiss on his head and pats his fur tenderly. He stands up immediately, walking towards you. How peaceful you look, how beautiful you look. Everything about this moment, it hurts him. It calms him. It makes him fall in love over and over again.

You looked up and smiled, your face lighting up at the sight of him. "Hey, welcome back!" you greeted, gesturing to the colorful array of origami cranes spread out before you. "I’m making one thousand cranes, you know, for the wish."

He approached and sat beside you, his emotions a tumultuous mix of love and fear. "What’s the wish for?" he asked, his voice trembling despite his efforts to stay calm.

Your smile was soft, full of warmth and certainty. "To be with you forever." you replied, your eyes meeting his with unwavering affection. "Like we always wanted."

The words hit Gojo Satoru with the force of a tidal wave, and he felt his composure crumble. Tears welled in his eyes, and he began to sob, unable to hold back the torrent of emotions that had been building inside him.

You watched him with concern, reaching out to wrap your arms around him, pulling him close. "Hey, are you going to be alright?" you asked gently, your voice soothing and tender.

He buried his face in your shoulder, his tears soaking into your shirt as he clung to you. "I just—" he choked out, "I can’t lose you."

You held him tighter, your embrace a balm to his aching heart. "You won’t," you whispered, your voice steady and reassuring. "I’ll always be here with you, Satoru. Always."

In that moment, wrapped in your arms, Satoru felt the weight of his fears begin to lift.

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As days turned into weeks, your condition deteriorated at an alarming rate. The tumor in your brain had progressed to a stage where surgery was no longer an option. The diagnosis was a harsh reality that Gojo Satoru couldn’t escape, no matter how much he wished it were otherwise.

He found himself questioning everything. He had become a doctor to heal, to save lives, yet here he was, unable to save the one person who meant the world to him. The thought gnawed at him, a relentless reminder of his perceived failure. If he couldn’t save you, how could he ever be expected to save anyone else?

Each day, as he walked into the hospital, his heart felt heavy with the weight of his own inadequacy. He passed by patients he could help, doctors who looked to him for guidance, all while wrestling with the crushing realization that he was powerless in the face of your illness.

But he refused to let you see this side of him. You had always been his strength, and he didn’t want to burden you with his self-loathing. He masked his inner turmoil with a practiced smile, determined to show you a facade of optimism and support, even as his heart ached with the pain of watching you suffer.

When he was with you, he tried his hardest to remain upbeat. He would talk to you about trivial things, tell you funny stories from his day at the hospital, and offer encouragement with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. The effort was exhausting, but he was driven by a singular purpose—to make your days brighter, to give you moments of happiness despite the grim reality.

“You’re so strong, baby.” he would say, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. “I’m proud of you, you know that? We’ll get through this. We’ll find a way to make the best of it.”

Inside, however, he was a storm of self-doubt and anger. How could he reconcile the fact that he was trained to save lives, yet unable to save yours? The bitterness of his own inadequacy was a harsh contrast to the warmth he projected for your sake.

The nights were the hardest. When he was alone, he would let his guard down, allowing the tears to fall as he grappled with the overwhelming weight of his emotions. He would sit in the quiet of his room, staring at the ceiling, wrestling with the guilt and self-reproach that seemed to consume him.

Yet, each morning, he would pull himself together, don his mask of cheerfulness, and return to you with the same unwavering determination. For you, he would continue to smile, to hope, and to cherish every moment of time he had left with you.

His love for you was the only thing that kept him going, the only light in the darkness that threatened to swallow him whole. Despite his own pain, he would remain by your side, offering whatever comfort and support he could.

Satoru sat beside you in the dimly lit room, the soft whir of hospital equipment filling the quiet space. His attempts to maintain a cheerful demeanor had become increasingly strained, but you saw through his facade.

“Hey, 'toru.” you said softly, noticing how he seemed more withdrawn than usual. “You’ve been so quiet lately. Is something wrong?”

Satoru looked at you, his heart aching at the concern in your eyes. He forced a smile, but it faltered. “It’s nothing,” he said, his voice betraying the weight he carried. “Just feeling a bit overwhelmed.”

You reached out, gently touching his hand. “You don’t have to hide anything from me. I want to know what’s going on.”

Satoru took a deep breath, struggling to keep his emotions in check. “It’s just... seeing you like this, knowing there’s nothing more I can do. I became a doctor to help people, to make a difference. But right now, I can’t save you.”

You squeezed his hand, your gaze softening. “Satoru, you’ve done everything you can. It’s not your fault. Sometimes, despite our best efforts, things don’t turn out the way we hope.”

He shook his head, tears welling up. “I keep thinking, if I had been more observant, if I had noticed the signs earlier, maybe—maybe I could have done something.”

You took a deep breath, looking at the pile of paper cranes you were meticulously folding. “Do you remember why I’m making these?”

Satoru glanced at the cranes scattered across the table. “For your wish?”

“Yes.” you said, nodding. “I’m making one thousand cranes. It’s a tradition that if you complete them, your wish will be granted.”

He watched as you carefully folded another crane, your hands moving with practiced precision. “Is your wish the same?” he asked, trying to hold back his tears. "To be together forever?"

You smiled gently, your eyes meeting his. “What else is there to wish for, Satoru? You were always my dream come true.”

Satoru’s composure broke, and he began to sob, his body shaking with the force of his grief. “I love you so much, baby.” he choked out. “And I don’t want to lose you.”

You reached out, embracing him tightly. “I love you too, Satoru. And I’m here with you, every step of the way. We’ll face this together.”

Satoru buried his face in your shoulder, allowing himself to release the pent-up emotions he had been hiding. The warmth of your embrace was a stark contrast to the cold reality of the situation.

“I just wish I could make you better. It’s tearing me apart to see you suffer.”

You stroked his hair, your heart breaking for him. “You’ve already given me so much. Your love, your support—it means everything to me. And that’s more than enough.”

He looked up at you, tears still glistening in his eyes. “I feel like I’ve failed. I should be able to fix this, to save you.”

“You haven’t failed, my love.” you said softly, holding his gaze. “Sometimes, we can’t control everything. But we have each other, and that’s what matters most.”

As the tears subsided, Satoru took a shaky breath. He watched as you continued folding the cranes, each one a symbol of hope and love. Despite his efforts to hold back his tears, he felt a new wave of emotion rising within him.

You had said you wanted to finish the cranes as much as possible before you died, so that your wish could come true—that you would be together forever. The thought of not achieving that dream, of not having you in his life, was almost too much to bear.

Satoru wiped his wet eyes, his voice trembling with a mix of hope and sorrow. “Can I help you with the cranes?” he asked, his heart aching. “I want to make sure the gods know I have the same dreams.”

You looked up at him, your eyes sparkling with a mixture of sadness and gratitude. Your smile was soft, but it held a depth of love that made Satoru’s heart ache in the best way possible.

“Of course, my love.” you said gently, reaching out to him. “I’d love that.”

He moved closer, taking a seat beside you at the table. He picked up a piece of paper, his hands trembling slightly as he tried to mimic the folds you had shown him. Each crease was an act of defiance against the fate that loomed over you both, a testament to the love and hope that bound you together.

As he worked alongside you, he stole glances at you, admiring the way your hands moved. Your hands were beautiful. You always have had the most beautiful existence. Of course, you would make something so beautiful too.

As the cranes began to accumulate, they became more than just paper and folds. So did the hopes, so did the wonders, so did the expectations. Gojo Satoru thinks that he was lucky. He always has been. Bcause you were with him. Because you were always what made life feel so lucky, feel so whole.

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Gojo Satoru sat alone in the quiet room, the faint echoes of hospital activity the only sounds breaking the oppressive silence. The weight of your absence felt almost unbearable.

He always told you that if you were to grow old together, that he would think it'd be best that you died together. But ideally, he would want to die first. He can't bear the thought of losing you again.

Even if it is to death. But death wasn't one to grant wishes fast. Death doesn't discriminate. It just takes and takes.

You had left as quickly as you had come into his life. The last memory he had of you was sending him off to find some of those bread rolls you liked—an ordinary task that now felt laden with an almost premonitory sadness.

He wondered if you had known, deep down, that your time was running out. Perhaps you had felt it coming and wanted to spare him the agony of watching you leave. The thought of you making that decision, of choosing to shield him from the worst of the pain, only deepened his sorrow.

Satoru’s mind replayed the moments of your final days together. He remembered laying by your side, feeling the weight of your past life’s final farewell.

It hadn’t been fair. In his past life, he had been given the chance to say goodbye to you on his deathbed. This time, you had taken that moment away from him, leaving him to face an unbearable reality alone.

He glanced at your lifeless body, the grief almost too heavy to bear. He didn't want to leave you alone, even for a moment. But Shoko’s voice cut through his despair, gentle yet firm.

“The morgue will take care of everything,” Shoko said, her tone reassuring. “You need to rest, Satoru. Take a shower, clear your head. You’ll need to face the world and everything that comes next.”

Satoru looked at her, his eyes red-rimmed and weary. “But I... I don’t want to leave them alone.”

Shoko placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I understand, but you have to take care of yourself too. You need to be strong, for both of you. Rest now, and we’ll handle the arrangements.”

He nodded slowly, his heart heavy with the burden of his grief. He took one last look at you, trying to imprint the image of you in his memory, before he reluctantly made his way to the hospital’s shower facilities.

As the water cascaded over him, he tried to wash away the physical and emotional exhaustion that clung to him. But no amount of water could cleanse the sorrow or erase the memory of losing you. He closed his eyes, letting the steam envelop him, and took a deep breath.

The world outside seemed distant and blurred, a reminder of the life he now had to face without you. As he emerged from the shower, he wonders how he can move on.

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Satoru thinks that the house is eerily quiet. The dog, like usual, woke him up with his tail wagging and eyes bright with excitement. It was a comforting routine that had always brought him joy, but tonight, it felt like an unbearable reminder of what he had lost.

The dog leaped up to greet him, paws against his legs, and Satoru knelt down, trying to muster a smile. But as he looked into the dog's trusting eyes, the reality of the situation hit him with full force.

Satoru’s composure crumbled. He wrapped his arms around the dog, pulling him close as the tears he had been holding back surged forth. The dog nuzzled against him, sensing his distress, and Satoru’s sobs became more pronounced.

Through his tears, he choked out, “You know, buddy... they're not coming home anymore. They...... they're gone.”

The dog looked up at him, head tilting slightly as if trying to understand. Satoru could hardly bring himself to continue, the weight of the words feeling almost too heavy to bear.

“I don’t know how to explain it to you, but... they won’t be here to make you those treats they used to bake. They won’t be here to cuddle with us on the couch.”

He petted the dog’s head, his hands trembling. “They loved you so much. And I promised them that I’d take care of you... but I don’t know how to do that without them.”

Satoru’s voice cracked, the depth of his sorrow palpable. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not fair to you, either. You’re going to miss them just like I do. But I’ll try my best to make sure you’re okay.”

The dog licked his face gently, as if trying to comfort him in return. Satoru held onto him tightly, feeling the warmth. It was a small, yet poignant reminder of the life he had to keep going for, even amidst his grief.

As he sat there on the floor, the dog resting its head on his lap, Satoru’s tears began to subside. He took deep, shuddering breaths, drawing solace from this moment.

He gently stroked the dog’s fur. “We’re going to get through this, hm?” he said quietly.

As the evening wore on, Satoru and the dog remained there, the quiet company offering a small reprieve from the overwhelming grief. In the solitude of the house that now felt emptier than ever. He finds the paper cranes. You finished most of it in the hospital. But you were sure that you made more than a thousand. Tears fall from his eyes.

"Please." He whispered to the gods above. "If there something more than this one. Please tell me that'll continue to be together. Please."

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