#sorry i’m done. i just love him so much

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Merry Christmas, Baby

Summary: You're not sure what to get Javi for Christmas, until he gives you an idea for a gift you can't put under the tree

Word Count: 3.3K (I wrote this in two hours, the thots do be thotin)

Paring: Husband!Javi x Wife!reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex (whoops), breeding kink (I'll say it once and I'll say it again, you KNOW this man deserves 17 kids) vaginal fingering, creampie (big time), family planning, Javi gets so excited about the idea of another baby he literally can't control himself, terrible, sexual Christmas puns, cute and sweet Christmas fluff bc I love this family more than life and you know they give their kids the most magical Christmases 🥺

A/N: I'll take Javier Peña with a big fat breeding kink for a thousand, please!!! I was feeling in a writing rut, until I read @notjustjavierpena Husband Javi Christmas fic last night, and lord have MERCY, consider me inspired 🫡 I'll never shut up about the fact that this man wants a football team, and every Christmas will ask to put another baby in you as his only Christmas gift BYEEEEEEE I need to be institutionalized at this point sorry this is poorly beta'd, it's me, I'm allergic to editing!!!

Forever and Always Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

“Javier Peña, there has to be something you want for Christmas.” 

“As long as all my girls are happy, that’s all I want.” 

“Unfortunately, I can’t wrap your sappy sentiment, Javi.” 

There was nothing more that you enjoyed than showering Javi with gifts for the holidays. There were few people on earth you could imagine being more deserving than your husband- you’d find a way to wrap the moon and top it with a bow, if that’s what he wanted. Unfortunately for you, Javi was so sweet, it made buying gifts for him nearly impossible, considering there was rarely ever a tangible item on his wishlist. 

“I don’t need anything, baby.” Javi smiled, reaching for the roll of bright pink and sparkly wrapping paper in front of him to start covering the new Barbie Dream House Lucy had been begging for all year long. “Toss me the tape.” 

“Well obviously I have things for you, but I always wanna make sure I’m getting you things that you want.” You sighed, gently throwing the roll of Scotch tape you had been using over the pile of gifts between you and Javi you were working on wrapping while your daughters were asleep. 

After six Christmases under your belts, you and Javi had learned from the one grave mistake of waiting until Christmas Eve to wrap all your daughter’s presents, now taking a few nights before the big day to wrap and assemble any gifts being left under the tree for your own sanity. 

Now that your girls, Lucy, Elliot and Harper, were six, four and two, it made Christmas even more magical, knowing that they were beginning to understand the concept of what the holiday meant, and all the joyous anticipation that led up to the 25th of December. 

It also meant that there were a lot more presents to wrap- 1, because Lucy and Elliot knew that they could ask for gifts they wanted, and 2, because Javi would say he’d be done buying presents and then show up the next day after work with another toy for his girls. 

“Honey, you get great gifts, for me, but especially for the girls, too. Fuck, I forgot this needs batteries…” Javi mumbled to himself, carefully undoing the wrapping paper he had started working on, “You make a very good Santa.” 

“I think the girls like your version of Santa better, since that’s how they end up with double the gifts under the tree.” You giggled, playfully rolling your eyes at Javi before reaching for the next toy in the pile, “I’m being serious, Javi. I love spoiling those girls just as much as you, but you also deserve to be spoiled too, ya know.” 

“You’re my wife, gave me three beautiful daughters, and tolerate me on a daily basis. Baby, that’s plenty fucking spoiled, if you ask me.” Javi grinned, giving you a reassuring nod and little shrug of his shoulders. 

“You’re much more than tolerable, you goof.” You laughed, cheeks pink at the warmth of your husband’s words, never failing to make you melt a little more each day. “Will you please just tell me one thing you want? Then I’ll let it go, I promise.” 

Javi sat quietly for a moment, fiddling with the edges of the wrapping paper he was working on before a boyish smile began to creep into the corners of his cheeks. 

“Uh oh.” You laughed to yourself, immediately recognizing the goofy grin Javi was trying to contain, “What is it, Peña?” 

“You’re not gonna like it.” Javi snickered to himself, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“Jav, if it’s another dog, I told you, when the girls are older and-” 

“No, it’s not another dog.” He smirked, still softly laughing to himself as you tilted your head at him in confusion, trying to piece together what kind of gift Javi would want that would take any convincing from you, crossing your arms over your chest as you attempted to decipher the devious splayed across his face. 

It only took about two seconds and that look to figure out what Javi was in the market for.  

“Javi…” You sighed, your tone jokingly stern. 

“Osita?” He responded back, trying to downplay his giddiness now that you had figured out his gift suggestion. 

“Javi, four kids is a lot of kids. One more, and they’re doubling us in ranks.” 

You had always been on the fence about having a fourth baby. Not because you didn’t love having kids, or that you didn’t think you couldn’t handle it, mentally or financially, but because your brain worked in logistics- adding one more member to your family was getting you to the point where you’d have so many kids, you wouldn’t even all fit in Javi’s truck anymore, unless someone got demoted to the trunk, which, in all honesty, you were sure Elliot wouldn’t mind. 

For Javi, on the other hand, there was no need to worry about logistics- the two of you would figure it out sooner or later. The only logistics he was worried about was instigating the baby making process.  

“You asked what I wanted!” Javi replied, chuckling as he held his hands up in defense, “I think I’ve been a very good boy all year, if you ask me.” 

“What you’re asking for is definitely putting you on the naughty list.” You huffed, trying to distract yourself with finishing wrapping the present you were working on to hide the fact you were genuinely considering Javi’s present suggestion. “You really think we can handle four kids, Jav?” 

It took everything in you not to laugh at the way Javi instantly perked up when your first response to his gift idea wasn’t rejection, eyeing you up and down and gently biting down on his lower lip. 

“Mhmmm.” He nodded, slowly making his way around the pile of presents to scooch closer to you, “I’ll take care of everything, mi amor. You, the girls, the baby, I can ask for less hours at work so I can help around here, whatever you want, you know I’ll give it to you.” 

“You really want this baby, huh?” You giggled, smirking at Javi as he crawled next to you, hungry look in his eyes while he began to cage his body over yours, carefully laying you down on the floor beneath him. 

“Fuck, I wanna knock you up again so bad. You’re so fucking sexy when you’re pregnant.” Javi groaned, planking overtop you, his hot breath dancing across your skin in between his soft nips at your pulse point. “Let me fuck another baby into you, Osita. Please.” 

Any inhibitions you would have had in protest had completely flown out the window, arousal soaking the fabric of your underwear as Javi kissed up your neck and across your collarbone, softly palming at your breasts under one of his old sweatshirts you had thrown on. 

Truth be told, you and Javi had talked about baby number four enough that you were already leaning towards saying 'yes' anyways, but that wouldn’t stop you from having a little fun in seeing how badly Javi really wanted the Christmas gift he was asking you for. 

“Tell me how badly you want it, Javi. Tell me how much you wanna fuck another baby into me.” You devilishly whispered into his ear, smiling to yourself at the pathetic groan that rumbled from his chest in response. 

“Fuck me-” Javi moaned, hands feverishly groping your body, “Fuck, I want it so bad, quierda. Wanna fill you up ‘till it has no choice but to fucking take, fuck this pussy so full of me, let everyone know who it belongs to, watching you carry our baby. Please, Osita.” 

It was a good thing you were already prepared to be easily swayed, because even if you weren’t, listening to the way Javi was begging to put another baby in you would have easily been enough. 

“Okay. Merry Christmas, Papí.” 

Your green light was all Javi needed to spark something completely feral in him, practically ripping your clothes off you in the middle of the living room, sprawled out on the carpet. 

“Javi, we can go upstairs and-” 

“No. Fuck, I need to fuck you right now, just like this.” He grunted, shedding his clothes before his hand was cupping over your underwear, jaw going slack at how absolutely soaked the fabric was under the pads of his fingers. “Apparently you do too, huh, Momma? She’s so wet for me, isn’t she? Pretty pussy wants me to fill her up so bad.” 

Your stomach churned in arousal as Javi ripped your panties down your legs, revealing the puffy, glistening mess beneath. Javi had barely touched you, and you could already feel the way you’re dripping, admittedly just as turned on as him at the idea of letting him add another addition to your family. 

“Christ, baby.” Javi muttered, settling between your legs. Letting his hands run up the insides of your thighs, he took his thumbs and slid them between your folds, spreading you open to get a full view of the way your slick was coating your cunt. “Making a fucking mess for me already.” 

“I think I’m ovulating soon.” You sigh, doing some quick math in your head, trying to account for just how worked up you were, Javi’s eyes so going wide at the realization, you were worried they may just pop out of his skull. 

“Oh, fuck me.” Javi groaned, shaking his head in disbelief at his luck, “You’re right, Merry fuckin’ Christmas to me then.” 

Swirling the pads of his fingers against your clit, your back arched against the floor at the shockwaves the pleasure sent through your body, making you gasp so loud, you were worried you risked a real possibility of waking up your daughters. 

“F-Fuck, Javi-” You whimpered, already bucking your bottom half towards him as he sunk his two fingers into your cunt while the heel of his palm rubbed deliciously against your clit. Reaching up, your grasp wrapped around Javi’s bicep, muscles flexing with each pulse of his fingers as you left half-crescent moons in his skin. 

It took everything in you not to scream as a third finger joined the first two, stretching you out as he bumped against your g-spot, tension already beginning to build in your core. A sudden gasp escaped your chest, surprised by the newfound emptiness that had you clenching around nothing, looking up to see Javi reaching down to wrap his hand around his cock, stroking it a few times before lining it up with your entrance. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I need to fucking feel you, baby. Swear you’ve got me feeling like I’m about to bust like a fucking teenager.” Javi grunted, running his tip against your clit and down your cunt, collecting your arousal before thrusting himself inside you, filling you to the brim with every inch of him. 

Unless you were desperately pressed for time, Javi normally had a bare bones minimum of pulling at least one orgasm out of you before he fucked you, but seeing how worked up and needy he was to feel you wrapped around him, it was about as close to an orgasm you could get withtout actually having one. 

“Oh fuck, Javi!” you whined, feeling the tip of his head kiss your cervix as he began to thrust in and out of you, feeling dizzy from his fullness. You could tell he was trying to hold himself together, his hips slamming into you in deep, slow thrusts, breath hitching in the back of your throat every time he buries himself deeper inside you. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. So fucking tight. Fuck, I can’t wait to fill her up, give you every last fucking drop. Taking me so fucking well.” Javi moaned through gritted teeth, already scrunching his face in concentration through his pussy drunk babbling.  

Running his hands up the back of your thighs, Javi pushed your knees to your chest, pinning your legs in place against your stomach to stretch you out even further, letting him sink himself even deeper to hit the spot he knew drove you just as crazy as it drove him. 

Despite how lost in pleasure the two of you were, Javi was at least conscious enough to realize how loud you had gotten, quickly reaching up cup your mouth, catching your muffled moans in the palm of his hand. 

“I know, hermosa. Fuck, I love hearing you, but we gotta keep quiet enough, baby.” Javi huffed, snaking the hand covering your mouth between your bodies, circling at your clit, almost as if he was putting you through some sort of cruel test to see how far he could push you before he had you screaming at the top of your lungs. 

“Fuck- fuck, I know. You feel so good, Javi.” You whined, hand pressed against his bare chest, his warmth and weight pinning your body below him. 

You feel the way Javi’s thrusts become quicker and harsher, filling himself as deep as he could as your cunt began to clench around his length, sucking him in with your warmth and wetness. Your eyes had been scrunched, so lost in your own pleasure that you hadn’t even noticed the nearly pained look on Javi’s face, furrowing his brow in deep concentration with each slap of his hips against yours. 

“You okay, Javi?” You asked, panting out each word as he pounded into you, circling your clit faster and faster as his grip tightened around your thighs, trying to keep himself grounded. 

“Yeah, I- Fuck- fuck me, I’m trying so hard not to finish before you do. Pussy feels so fucking good. Wanna cum so fucking deep inside you.” Javi moaned, the rhythm of his hips already starting to falter thinking about his endgame. 

If you weren’t so lost in your own ecstasy, you probably would have giggled at Javi’s admission, giving him shit about how he couldn’t hold it together for even just a few minutes, knowing he could finally try to get you pregnant again. But right now, you’re just shocked you can even get any words to form coherent thoughts to string together, let alone tease him. 

“Put a baby in me, Javi. Fuck, want you to cum so deep inside me, please, baby.” 

You could barely finish the whimpers of your sentence before Javi’s pace became sloppy and erratic, hips stuttering before his jaw went slack, letting a low, long groan escape from his chest. 

“Oh, f-fuck-” Javi stammered, flushing his hips against yours as you felt his warm spend coat your walls, pressed so deep inside you, you were convinced it’d have no choice but to stick, in a few weeks finding out baby number four would be on the way. 

Javi’s chest rose and fell, looking down at the way your bodies melted together beneath him, igniting something primal in him to see the mix of your arousal seeping around where the two of you met. His eyes darkened, looking down at you with a feral sort of smirk, not even giving you the chance to speak before his lips were crashing into yours again, hips slowly thrusting while his fingers rubbed at your sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“J-Javi, what are you-” You muttered, cut off by the messy dancing of tongues and teeth in your mouths. 

“I’m not done yet, Momma. Not until I fuck myself so deep in there we know it fucking takes. Wanna keep you stuffed so fucking full of me.” Javi grunted, rubbing your clit faster at the way he could feel the walls of your pussy starting to flutter around him, determined to make sure he wasn’t the only one who finished. “Cum for me, baby. I know you’re close. Can feel how tight she’s getting for me.” 

You knew just as well as he did that the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine had slowly begun to flow to every inch of your body, building up through your legs and into your core, clenching down harder and harder around Javi’s cock, knowing there was no doubt the mess between your legs was surley just as wet as it sounded as he slid in and out of you. 

“Oh fuck, Javi, oh fuck- fuck, fuckfuckfuck- ah!” 

It didn't take long before your orgasm crashed through you, lighting up every inch of you in radiating pleasure, your cunt clamping down so hard around Javi’s cock, it made him let out a strangled gasp as he choked out curses under his breath. 

“Jesus, fuck. Gonna squeeze every last fucking drop outta me, huh? My greedy fuckin’ girl.” Javi smirked, planting a soft kiss on your lips before he slumped on top of you, your chests rising and falling as one as you finished coming down from your high. 

The two of you laid there for a moment, catching your breaths and basking in bliss before Javi was pulling out of you with a hiss, one hand wrapped around his softening cock, the other scooping up the mix of your spend pooling between your legs before it dripped to the floor, carefully pushing it back inside you. 

“Fuck,” Javi laughed to himself quietly, sitting back on his haunches, admiring the slick, shiny mess your pussy had become, “Jesus, I can’t remember the last time I came that hard.” 

“Looks like Christmas came early this year… and so did you.” You giggled, making Javi roll his eyes, playfully shaking one of the legs still pressed to your chest. 

“Shut up.” He sighed, shaking his head at you before laying back down beside you, shifting so that his chest was pressed to your back, spooning you in his grasp. “Gotta make sure Santa’s not the only thing coming down the chimney this year.” 

“Jesus Christ, Javi.” You can’t help but snort, ashamed of how easily amused you are by his stupid puns. 

“What? You let me get my gift early, least I can do is stuff your stocking for you.” 

“Oh my god, you are the worst.” 

The two of you giggled, basking in your laughter as you laid together on the floor, only spurred on by the fact you realized how ridiculous it was that the two of you were completely naked in the middle of your living room, surrounded by a sea of wrapping paper and presents. 

“Speaking of stocking stuffers, we should finish wrapping the rest of these gifts we have out before we go to bed. At least some of these presents should be wrapped, because the one you just gave me was most definitely not.” You teased, craning your neck to pepper ticklish kisses across Javi’s jaw. 

“It’s the gift that keeps on giving. I’ll give it to you tomorrow too, if you let me.” Javi grinned, giving you a playful wink before pressing a kiss into your messy hair and patting your hip, reaching over you to grab the pile of clothes the two of you had left next to you. “Seriously though, thank you. You and our girls are the best gift I could ever have, but adding one more would make me so fucking happy. I love you, Osita.” 

“I love you too, Javi. You guys are the best gift I could ask for, too. Although, I will say, your gift also selfishly works in my favor, too. Some presents are just better unwrapped.”

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[senigami-yltsom]

Miss July, you’ve done it again

To start, I love how you catch the reader up with the vibe of the day we’ve been having in such simple yet effective ways. The tedious interruptions and misfortunes piling up minute by minute, leading us to really being right there with reader, curled up on the couch and exhausted.

The readers actions/thoughts also feel very real. Her wanting to throw her phone but not because it wouldn’t be worth the damage, leaving the phone on the ground when it got to be too much effort to get it…

This fic also does a really nice job establishing where in the relationship the two are without saying it too directly. Hinting at it with their dialogue and tone towards each other went a long way.

Jason’s “…not even me?” broke my heart omg. I can picture that so clearly coming from him and also hearing it from the readers side.

“It’s one hour after your phone call, and at the first knock, you know who it is. Who else could it be? With that soft, somewhat hesitant, one-knuckle rap on the door. Only one person knocks on your door like that.”

I’m having trouble verbalizing why I love this but I do. That’s so—that’s so jason. That paragraph shows a deep understanding of your characters and their relationship, not only within just the context of the two of them, but their relationship with others as well.

“”I think—” he cuts himself off, free hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Then he drops his hand and sighs. “I’m sorry. This was a bad idea. You told me not to come here and I ignored you, but I thought…” he trails off, probably hoping you’ll say something so he can gauge your reaction.”

He’s so awkward and scared to be in love I love him. The way you wrote him is so sweet and thoughtful, I think it’s a very accurate take on what jason would be like in love. Not to mention, I can see all of it playing out like in a movie—you do that really well.

Ugh he’s such a loverboy deep down and you did an amazing job representing that side of him here.

dark chocolate cherry

i want to bring you flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses. i want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.

or; your boyfriend shows up when you just want some alone time [3.2k]

jason todd x fem!reader; reader gets her period and describes painful symptoms; just fluff; jason "words don't come easy so here's acts of service" todd this is supposed to be earlier in the relationship which is why he's still a little shy but i think she knows he's red hood? idk man. i was just going with it; can you guess what inspired this? (everything is awful)

The day started at 2 AM when you woke to shooting pains in your abdomen and blood everywhere. It continued until 2:45 while you cleaned yourself, changed clothes, put on a fresh pad, took some painkillers, and changed the sheets. It paused for about an hour until you woke up again at 4:00, courtesy of Gotham’s patented night-life that had taught you to completely tune out the sound of police sirens. Tonight, however, they weren’t tuning out.

The sirens quieted at 4:10, by which angry tears collected in the corners of your eyes as you flopped around in bed in an attempt to get comfortable. No matter what you did, there was always something wrong; the pillow was too hard, the blanket was too scratchy, the position hurt your arm.

From 4:11 to 4:12, you screamed into your pillow.

By 4:15 you had settled in front of the TV with a bowl of dry cereal (it took everything in you not to cry over the lack of milk in your fridge), a heating pad, and your favorite comfort show queued up.

At 8 AM you managed to drag yourself to work, where you half-assed the day’s tasks, took a 15-minute break to cry in your car, then dipped out a half-hour early.

Now, at 5 PM on a Friday evening, you’re curled into the fetal position in front of your TV with your comfort show resumed and your trusty heating pad cranked to the highest setting. Prepared to spend the entire night here, you already changed into pajamas and kept a couple blankets within reach. Your phone buzzes on the coffee table, and you stretch to reach it, careful not to lose your comfortable position or roll off the couch.

Jason About to leave Be there in 20

You groan out loud. You want to throw your phone across the room, but decide against it because no amount of hormones from hell are worth six hundred dollars. You’re still angry, though, for being so stupid as to forget about the date you had planned for tonight. Scrolling up to earlier messages, you see another text from today wishing you a good morning and telling you he was excited to see you tonight. But, too down to bother checking any messages today, you had missed it.

You I can’t tonight anymore I’m sorry I don’t feel great

After hitting send, you place your phone on the ground, not even having the energy to reach for the coffee table again. Or the energy to lift your arm back up, apparently, given how it hangs limply over the edge of the couch. You feel guilty about cancelling, but you are in no state to go out tonight. You’re used to the symptoms of your period hitting so hard. As much as you and Jason care about each other, you’re not sure you’re ready for him to see you like this. You’ve managed to plan your relationship around your hormone cycle so far, but today it came early.

Your phone’s buzzing is muffled by the rug, and you almost don’t hear it. Jason’s photo is displayed on the screen.

Your hanging hand clicks ‘answer’ and puts it on speaker so you can take the call without moving from how you're curled up.

“Is everything okay? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine, I just don’t feel up for going out tonight. I’d rather stay home.”

“Did something happen?”

“No, I just got my period so I’m not really in the mood.”

“Okay, we can stay in tonight. What do you feel like eating? I can pick something up.”

“No, Jason…I want to stay home alone tonight.”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end of the line.

“Okay…did I do something?” His voice comes out a little smaller.

“No, you’re fine, I promise. I just don’t feel like seeing anyone right now.”

“…Not even me?”

Your hand presses against your temples to soothe the building tension headache. The self-doubt in his tone brings the anguish of the entire day bubbling up your throat. You feel like the worst person in the world. Exactly how you don’t want him to see you.

“Jason…it’s not you. I just…I feel like shit right now, honestly. Everything hurts, I’m miserable and sad and angry at everything, I’m breaking out all over.” You feel yourself welling up at all these little stresses coming out. “I’m craving everything but feel too sick to eat anything…I feel pretty disgusting right now, and frankly, I don’t want you to see me like this.” You finish your rant with a sniffle. You wipe your nose, trying to hold back the sob that’s threatening to break through. But at his silence, your worst, most improbable fears claw their way to the surface: he hates you now. You scared him away. You exhale heavily into your sleeve as more tears spill.

The phone is quiet for a long moment.  Then; “I could never find you disgusting,” he says, gently. “But if that’s what you want, then we’ll reschedule.”

“Thank you. And sorry.”

He speaks with a tone you can’t quite parse. “Don’t apologize. Just feel better.”

-

-

-

It’s one hour after your phone call, and at the first knock, you know who it is. Who else could it be? With that soft, somewhat hesitant, one-knuckle rap on the door. Only one person knocks on your door like that.

“Jason, I told you not to come here,” you say a little more cutting than you intend to, but your back and shoulders feel like they’re about to snap under a phantom pressure and the frustration of your request being outright ignored leaves a burning bitterness that channels itself into a violent wrenching open of the door.

He jumps a little at the abruptness of your greeting. One look at your face and he visibly deflates.

“I’m sorry…I know you said not to come, but…” his gaze casts downward to his hands. You follow; he’s clutching a reusable grocery bag. Peeking out of the top is a gallon of Neapolitan ice cream. The ice cream carton’s condensation seeped through a small patch of the cloth bag and dripped onto the other items; a bushel of greens, among some other fruits and vegetables, as well as a parcel of brown paper that was fastened closed with a twine string. You return your gaze to his face.

“I think—” he cuts himself off, free hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Then he drops his hand and sighs. “I’m sorry. This was a bad idea. You told me not to come here and I ignored you, but I thought…” he trails off, probably hoping you’ll say something so he can gauge your reaction.

You just stare at him.

He shifts his weight back and forth. His hand twitches.

“Okay, yeah, I’ll—”

Then, you burst into tears.

Jason’s eyes widen. He reaches out to touch you, then stops himself. “Oh, fuck, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, this was stupid. Please stop crying, I’m so sorry—” He’s panicked, trying to calm you down with apologies and soothing assurances that he will leave immediately and never go against your wishes again. All the while you stand in the doorway, blubbering like a toddler with a skinned knee, new tears forming faster than you can wipe the old ones away.

He once again raises a hand towards you, before it stutters, then clenches into a fist as if it takes all his strength to fight against the instinct to be close to you, fighting against the string that tethers him to you. He drags his hand down his face, then it falls back to his side.

“Okay, I—I’m leaving now. I’m leaving. Do you…want this?” He holds the bag out to you.

With it now in front of you, its further contents are visible. You manage to tamp down your tears enough to get a few words out.

“Did you—hic—buy me groceries?”

“Yeah…” There’s a wince in his tone, as if he’s only now realizing that his gesture is not translating as he intended.

You look back up at him with pursed lips and knitted brows, sniffling. Sure, the ice cream you can understand, but…you have no idea what to make of the rest.

The bag drops back to his side. “I figured…it’s just— it’s the stuff that you’re supposed to—” He strokes his palm over his mouth, eyes screwing shut for a moment. He huffs at himself, then continues. “I mean I’m sure you already know all of this, so maybe you already have all these things, and now I’m realizing how unnecessary all this was, and I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“Jason,” you say. Your upset has since been overshadowed by something else, though you can’t tell what it is. And your crying has stopped, but its lingering effects have you feeling congested and a little foggy. You’re half expecting this to be a fever dream that you’re moments away from waking up from in a cold sweat.

“—because obviously you know what helps you feel better much more than I do—”

“Jason.”

“And you— yeah?” His eyes are a little harried when they find yours again. But off your tired and still-confused look, he gets the message and collects himself.

“Right, yeah, I just thought that…maybe I could bring you some of the stuff with all those minerals that are supposed to help women when they’re…menstruating.” He briefly breaks eye contact at the end of his sentence, red rouge creeping up his neck.

You can’t help it; you start to giggle. You can’t remember the last time you heard a man use the term ‘menstruating’ in a non-medical context. And the fact that he’s so shy about it— upset as you may be (though not at him), there’s no denying how adorable your boyfriend is. His head shoots back to you as your laughter intensifies. He blushes harder.

“It’s not that funny,” he mutters.

You step away from the door, finally closing the space between you, and wrap your arms around his torso. Your head nestles into his chest. He gently drops the grocery bag on the ground and reciprocates your hug. He rests his chin on your head, which fits perfectly under his. Like two puzzle pieces clicking into place. You breathe him in.

“Sorry I’m such a mess,” you murmur into his shirt.

He breathes into your hair. “You have nothing to apologize for. And you’re not a mess.”

You look up, chin resting in the space between his collarbones. He looks down at you with a small smile, but some wariness is still etched into his features. Fear of unwittingly upsetting you again. He brings up a hand to push some hair out of your face and tuck it behind your ear. His hand remains there, toying with the hair that falls below your shoulder.

"Thank you for the food,” you whisper. The moment feels too intimate to speak any other way.

“I’m sorry for not listening to you. I just…” He imitates your quietness, like his admission is also too vulnerable to say loudly. “I really wanted to see you. And I hated the idea of you feeling bad about yourself, or being in pain. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Your eyes feel wet again. The first instinct is to hide your face, maybe press it to his chest once more. But, for some reason, you don’t. You want him to see you like this, messy and emotional and upset. You want him to see every part of you, and you want to see every part of him, the good and the bad.

“You didn’t.” A tear slips past the effort to keep it at bay. He shows no reaction to it, eyes never leaving yours, other than a quick swiping away with his thumb. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before. That’s why I was crying. Not because you showed up.”

“That doesn’t seem right. This is nothing. You deserve even more.”

With no words to fully, adequately communicate the blooming in your chest, you stand on your toes, reaching up to him for a kiss. But given his stature, your lips only reach his chin and brush over its underside.

At your quiet whine, he chuckles and leans down to meet you in the middle. The kiss is soft; filled with the innocence of fresh blossoms in the spring, and the sweetness of its borne fruit.

You pull away when a vicious cramp roots you back to the present. Your limps tighten around Jason with a groan.

“I need to go back inside. I’ve been away from my heating pad for too long.”

His shoulders sag when you step away from him. “Oh, um…do you still…want me to leave?”

With a simple exhale of humorous disbelief, you grasp his hand in yours and tug him to your front door. He’s like an excited puppy, eyes brightened and perking up as he grabs the grocery bag and happily trails after you.

He goes straight to the kitchen, pulling out a chair at the counter for you to settle into, then sets the bag on the counter. The ice cream carton has dampened most of the cloth by now, and likely the rest of its contents, but rather than attending to the groceries, his first action is retrieving your heating pad from where it rests on the couch. He unplugs it from the wall outlet and brings it to you. You curl up on the chair with it pressed flat against your lower stomach. It only takes a minute for the pressure in your hips to abate.

Then he moves to the groceries. The ice cream immediately goes in the freezer, and he unloads what’s remaining onto the counter, one by one, and you take note of each item. There’s spinach, carrots, apples, oranges, dark chocolate, some kind of meat wrapped in brown paper, and, strangely enough, an entire block of cheese.

You give him a quizzical look, picking it up to read the label. “You got me…cheddar cheese?”

He retrieves a cutting board and knife from its spot next to the sink, then takes the cheese from you. “Good for certain symptoms.” He slices open the plastic wrapping and cuts out some cubes with skilled efficiency. He does the same with an apple. “They all are,” he says, referring to his entire haul. He completes the makeshift charcuterie board with a couple squares of dark chocolate and slides it across the counter.

You look down at the cutting board, thinking about everything he’s done for you; everything you never even had to ask for. The words sit on your tongue, encaged by your clenched teeth; an admission that coils itself around your spine and squeezes tight, restricts your breathing and pumps your heart at thrice its speed. But you feel yourself welling up again, and the first bout of tears already exhausted you so much that all you can manage is, “I don’t know what to do with all this. I don’t have the energy to make anything good.”

But he just smiles and says, “That’s what I’m here for, honey. Can I make you something?”

You nod. He gets to work. The immediacy of his actions, how he takes no time to decide on a dish or find a recipe, makes you think his previously stated intentions of ‘just dropping this off’ were less genuine than he lead you to believe. Nevertheless, you munch on the snacks he laid out for you and watch him work. The cheese and apples are a surprisingly cohesive combination, the meshing of sweet crispiness and savory creaminess eliciting a contented sigh from you. You try to ignore the way Jason smirks in the corner of your periphery. The chocolate is incredible, yet unfamiliar. You read the label on the packaging: 80% Dark Chocolate with Cherry and Almond Filling. Even if you hadn’t tasted it yet, the quality of the packaging itself would have been enough to let you know that this chocolate is extremely high-quality. Like, special-order-from-Europe quality. Not stop-at-the-grocery-store-on-the-way-home quality.

“Where is this from? Did you buy this today?” You ask him through a mouthful of the rich, melting chocolate.

He doesn’t look up from the carrots he’s dicing. “Uh…no.”

Anyone else would attribute his avoidance of eye-contact to standard kitchen-knife caution. You are not anyone else. You could blindfold him, spin him around ten times, put a sharp knife in his hand, and he could still pull off a perfect julienne. You look closer. His cheeks are dusted with pink.

You let out a laugh. “Jason, you’re not embarrassed about liking fancy chocolate, are you?”

“No! Not at all,” he says, ceasing his chopping. He looks up, but not quite at you.

“Then?”

“‘Then’ what?” He asks.

“Then why are you being so shifty right now?” You try to catch his gaze.

“I’m not!” He defends. “It’s just chocolate! Do you like it? I’ll bring you more.” He’s stealthy with the way he avoids your eyes; you almost can’t notice how hard he’s trying not to make eye contact.

“Jason!” You reach across the counter, having to rise off the chair slightly, and take his face in your hands, making him look at you. When he does, he wears a sheepish smile.

“It’s…” His removes your hands from his face, holding them in his. He mumbles something, turning his head to the side. But you catch the tail end of it, a goading grin already creeping up your face.

“What was that?” You tilt your ear towards him, exaggerating the action.

“It’s Bruce’s.” He, in turn, exaggerates the enunciation, rolling his eyes at your simpering. “I…found it. In his pantry one day. And I liked it, so I took it. And then I…kept taking it. Every time I visited.”

You pout teasingly. “And you’re ashamed to admit that you think he has good taste in something?”

He doesn’t say anything, only hiding his face in his shoulder. You pull on your intertwined hands and he gets the message, skirting around the kitchen counter to come closer.

“You are so adorable, you know that?” You say. You reach up and pinch his cheeks. He swats your hands away, but there’s no mistaking his broad, childish grin for anything but affection.

He breaks off another square from the chocolate bar and holds it to your lips. You bite off a small portion, then push it back to him. He takes the remaining piece in his mouth and his eyes close for a brief moment as he savors the sweet, tart, and nutty flavors. You simply watch, entranced by him. Then, he kisses you. You lean into it, hands sliding up his shirt to grip the fabric and bring him even closer. His hold finds your waist.

He tastes like cherries and dark chocolate.

He breaks the kiss to rest his forehead on yours, and you want to tell him that. That, and so much more. But from the look on his face, the way his eyes find yours and the tips of his ears have a similar heat to the one in your chest, you can tell he already knows.

when it comes to jason's post-pit-repressed-teenager characterization (aka despite being older he's still as inexperienced and confused and insecure about the world outside of vigilantism and w/ women as a 15 y/o would be) (aka my favorite characterization tee hee), i think that he's mature about periods, knows they're normal and not gross or shameful etc, but still gets shy about saying the actual word, for no other reason than the 'shy around women' part always makes me giggle

also bruce is keeping the chocolate stocked specifically because he knows jason likes it and will keep taking it because he loves his son even if his son doesn't love him (he does he's just in his angsty teen 'i hate this family you don't understand me' phase rn)

divider is from here

quote at the beginning is pablo neruda <3

[grandline-fics]

I'm so in love with your writing, I'd love to see the "one bed trope" from you! Maybe a little suggestive, as far as you're comfortable, of course.

DESCRIPTION: There was only one bed

WARNINGS:  nothing too suggestive, more on the fluff side

CHARACTERS: Mihawk, Shanks

WORDS: 2,065

A/N: Thank you so much for this request. I didn't know which characters you wanted so used the most popular form the recent poll. I had intended to do Ace as well but only had the energy to get something done for Shanks and Mihawk. I love this trope so much that i'll probably do more parts in the future. I hope you're happy with what I came up with and I'm sorry I didn't make it suggestive.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

MIHAWK

You were going to kill Crocodile. Not only did he order you to the tiniest island you’d seen in a long while, were the only thing in abundance seemed to be gloomy expressions but he also insisted you go to ‘keep an eye on' Mihawk. Since you considered Crocodile your main superior-a perspective you hadn't dropped since your Baroque Works days- you couldn't exactly refuse the assignment but it just made zero sense for you to be here. For starters Mihawk worked alone and efficiently enough that he didn’t require anyone to look out for him. Plus ‘observation’ wasn’t your usual role in Cross Guild. Normally Crocodile handed you a bounty list, told you to pick one and go get them. 

This was just one big headache and to make matters worse after scouring the entire island a call came through from Crocodile saying the bounty had already been completed and just handed in. Now you really were going to kill your boss, but from the look on Mihawk’s face it seemed you would have to get in line. From the receiver, Crocodile’s laugh caught both of your attentions.  “Look these things happen so stop pouting. Just make your way back to Cross Guild.”

Mihawk didn’t offer a response and ended the call, walking out of the alley you’d both stopped at to take the call. Silently you fell into step beside the former Warlord, walking the streets of the island for what felt like the hundredth time already. You let out a sigh of relief to see the inn come into view, now the only thing on your mind was trying to get a good night’s sleep and calm your annoyance at the whole situation. You couldn’t even muster a polite smile to the receptionist at the desk. “Two please.”

“Oh.” The receptionist glanced between you and Mihawk, her expression trained with years of experience to appear calm but you both saw the flicker of nervousness in her eyes for the smallest moment. “I’m sorry but we’re booked almost to capacity.”

“You’re joking.” You muttered. Why was everything going against you today? “You have nothing left?”

“W-well we’re a small island. Rooms go fast but we do have one room available.” You and Mihawk exchanged a look, both composed. Then the receptionist had to uselessly add. “Only one bed…” With a sigh you held out your hand for the key, knowing there wasn't much choice. Muttering thanks you glanced at the number of the keyring and headed for your room for the night. Stepping inside you found it lived up to your very low expectations but at least it was clean. Silently you eyed the bed you would have to share and looked to your stoic roommate. “So which side of the bed do you want?” 

As expected Mihawk was mature and respectable about the whole thing. Calm as ever he chose his side-the one closest to the door- and settled in for the night. Mihawk’s ability to fall over to sleep at ease was enviable because in the dark you could hear his deep, even breaths as he slept facing away from you. As tired as you were and as comfortable as you normally did feel in Mihawk’s presence you just couldn’t fall asleep. While the bed you lay in wasn't the worst you’d ever had to sleep in, it wasn’t the comfiest and living at Cross Guild had practically spoiled you. You’d gotten so used to stretching out, something you couldn’t exactly do at this moment. 

Deciding to just make do with your half of the bed and not disturb Mihawk, you rolled onto your side with the intention of getting comfortable. The only problem was you’d vastly overestimated the room you had to move and could only gasp as you felt the bed disappear from under you. In a split second as you braced to hit the ground, you were instead caught by a pair of hands. With ease you were pulled back onto the bed and you tensed to feel your back make contact with the warmth of Mhawk’s chest. “Sorry for waking you.”

“It’s fine, just sleep.” He told you while pulling one arm back to tuck his hand under his pillow. You tried not to react to how sleep brought Mihawk’s voice to a lower register that made it so much more attractive to you. You only nodded at his instruction and shifted slightly, already so much more comfortable than you had been all night. The only thing now was you noticed Mihawk still had one arm loosely draped over your body, not quite holding you but still enveloping you in his touch. “This is only to keep you from falling out of the bed again.”

“I didn’t say anything…” You mused, lips curving into a teasing smile that Mihawk could practically hear in the dark. “If you wanted to cuddle all you had to do was ask.”

“Don’t make me kick you out of this bed.” Mihawk warned in your ear, despite the threat you smirked to feel his arm over you tighten just a little. 

“Relax, your secret is safe with me.” Ordinarily you would have teased him a little more but between the tiredness finally winning over you and the warmth of his body against yours being so comforting. For a moment Mihawk wondered if you were genuinely comfortable against him, ready to release you at the first sign of unease. Yet you surprised him when you yawned and lazily placed your hand over his arm and smile in satisfaction as your eyes slid closed, your breathing evening out as you fell asleep.

Mihawk had been taking his time to slowly get to know you and let you in little by little, but now watching you roll onto your other side and curl up against his chest he began to reconsider his actions. Perhaps a few more missions away from Cross Guild’s base wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.

SHANKS

This type of situation should not be happening in this day and age. Not with your crew and Captain having the reputation and fame they had. Drawing names to see who was sharing rooms of all things reminded you of when the crew was only just forming and the coin to pay for individual rooms was a luxury. Some of the others on the crew shared your slight annoyance but you all knew that there wasn’t much you could do about it. The ship needed repairs after getting damaged in a ferocious storm with the sleeping quarters affected and unusable for now. You were all pirates after all and you supposed you needed to be reminded of that. 

Still though you were secretly hoping you were one of the lucky ones who got their own room. You mentally cursed when Ben pulled out a slip of paper and read your name out. Resigned to your fate you grabbed your drink and took a plentiful mouthful as the vice-captain grabbed another piece of paper to announce your roommate for the night. As you wiped the stray remnant of the liquid from your lip you spotted the man pause and fight a laugh, disguising his amusement by rubbing the lower half of his face. “Captain Shanks.” 

Your back went rigid and you ignored the burning stares of the rest of the crew as you instead turned your attention to the man in question. Even he seemed momentarily thrown by the announcement but he recovered swiftly as expected of the laidback man. His dark eyes met your gaze and he offered you a cheeky smile and a wink.

That night when all the drinking had been done you and Shanks stepped into your shared room. Without needed to consult on anything you both instinctively went to your preferred side of the bed to sleep on. You sat down and worked on kicking off your shoes and shrugging out of your coat to at least be a little comfier. You looked over your shoulder when Shanks lightly cleared his throat as he pulled back the cover to settle down on the mattress. “Problem Cap?”

“Not really.” Shanks mused with a sly smile. “I usually sleep naked is all.”

“Poor baby, I’m sure you can be brave and at least keep your trousers on for one night.” You teased, used to your Captain’s antics and knowing he was only making jokes to ease the slight tension at having to share like this. With a tired groan you settled down on your side of the bed as Shanks flicked off the light, bringing the room fully into darkness. “If not the barmaid should still be about to help you.”

“And downgrade my sleeping partner? I’d rather lose another limb.” Shanks told you dramatically, offended you’d suggest such a thing. You let out a huff of amusement and rolled your eyes as you stared tiredly at the ceiling, letting yourself grow more comfortable against the mattress. “I lost count how many of the crew wanted me to swap with them…”

“Uh-huh.“ You mused with a lazy smile before breaking out into a long yawn, sleep coming over you quickly now. “Well aren’t you lucky? Now go to sleep, ‘kay?”

“Can I at least get a good night kiss?” Shanks teased lightly, playfully tapping your nose and grinning in the darkened room to see your tired face scrunch up slightly. He’d said it as a joke, something for you to barely register in your mind as you drifted off to sleep. What he hadn’t expected though was you to roll onto your side and push yourself up with a low hum of sleepiness, not even bothering to open your eyes fully. 

He watched silently, completely overcome with curiosity as your hand reached out to skim your fingers against his face, searching for him in the dark. Your hand settled against his cheek and slowly you drew closer. With half-lidded eyes Shanks couldn’t take his gaze off of your slightly parted lips. 

“Shanks…” your voice was barely a breathy whisper but it was clear as a bell to Shanks, his attention raptly on you and only you. Quickly you pulled back just enough and opened your eyes to smirk slightly to see Shanks had leant in slightly to chase your lips he had been quietly eager to taste.

“You’re killing me here, love.” Shanks protested with a small pout, his hand dropping to the small of your back, fingers flexing slightly a gesture, to request you close the distance. He wasn’t forcing you, you had all the power here. You tilted your head and smiled at the sudden pet-name. You couldn’t deny the temptation to give in to your own idle curiosities about your handsome Captain. Given how you were sharing a bed and he'd requested a kiss you would have been foolish to throw away the opportunity you had. Still you had to at least get a little bit more fun out of it by keeping Shanks in momentary suspense. 

Finally you relented and kissed Shanks, your lips moving languidly against his; it being no surprise to you the he was already returning the action with no hesitancy. There was no fight for dominance in the kiss you shared but you could feel the power and command of Shanks’ presence over you but he left the pace, duration, and intensity entirely up to you. As much as you wanted to take it further, to push your curiosity and attraction towards the man against you for your own satisfaction you had to pull away reluctantly, knowing you wouldn’t have been able to enjoy what would follow fully with how tired you were. “Satisfied with your good night kiss, Captain?”

“You have no idea.” Shanks grinned pressing a quick kiss against your head as you settled down on the bed again. “I can now sleep peacefully and dream the sweetest dreams.”

“Good.” You grinned sleepily, opening your eyes just enough to fix him a playful smile. “I expect a good morning kiss in return by the way.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, love.” Shanks grinned at you, already counting down the hours until he got to feel his lips against yours again but for now he would enjoy the time he had to sleep beside you.

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa@kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa , @dreamcastgirl99

[s4kura-tr3]

Could you make a crybaby reader with JJK men? Like just an overly sensitive/nice reader? It’s okay if not! Have a good day!

Sensitive!

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna, Megumi, Yuji

Gojo Satoru

Gojo Satoru never meant to upset you—he rarely ever did. But today, his usual playful teasing hit you harder than usual.

You were sitting on the couch together, scrolling through your phone while he flipped lazily through the channels on the TV. Out of nowhere, Gojo chuckled and said, “You know, you’re so dramatic sometimes. It’s kinda cute, but it’s like everything’s the end of the world for you.”

You froze, his words hitting a nerve. Dramatic. That’s how people had dismissed your feelings for years. You tried to brush it off, but your chest tightened, and your vision blurred slightly as you blinked back tears.

Gojo didn’t notice at first, still flipping channels and humming to himself. But when you didn’t respond with your usual witty comeback, he glanced over and saw your downturned face.

“Wait,” he said, sitting up immediately. “Did I say something wrong?”

You didn’t answer right away, biting your lip to keep your emotions in check.

“Hey,” he said more gently now, setting the remote down. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

Finally, you looked at him, your voice quiet. “You called me dramatic. Do you know how many times I’ve heard that? It’s like every time I feel something, people just… dismiss me.”

Gojo’s eyes widened as realization dawned on him. “Oh no. No, no, no, that’s not what I meant,” he said, scooting closer to you on the couch. “I wasn’t trying to dismiss you. I swear, I just—ugh, sometimes I don’t think before I speak.”

You didn’t reply, still feeling the sting of his words.

Gojo reached for your hands, holding them in his warm, large ones. “I’m really sorry,” he said softly. “You’re not dramatic. You just feel things deeply, and I love that about you. It’s one of my favorite things about you, actually. You care so much, and that’s rare. Honestly, I wish I was more like you sometimes.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice.

“I mean it,” he continued. “I’m sorry I made you feel like that wasn’t a good thing. It is. You’re amazing, and I’m lucky you put up with my dumb jokes.”

A small smile tugged at your lips, despite your lingering hurt. “You really think that?”

Gojo grinned, his usual playful energy returning as he kissed your knuckles. “I think you’re perfect. And I’m perfectly terrible at saying things the right way. Forgive me?”

You sighed, the weight in your chest easing. “Okay. But maybe think before you speak next time?”

“Deal,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll even let you pick the movie tonight as a peace offering. But only if it’s not boring.”

You laughed softly, and just like that, Gojo had you smiling again, his arms wrapping around you to hold you close.

Geto Suguru

It was late in the evening, and you and Geto Suguru were sitting together in a cozy café. He had insisted on taking you out to unwind after a long week, and for a while, the warm atmosphere and his gentle company had done just that. But then, the conversation took an unexpected turn.

You were talking about a project you’d been working on—how much effort you’d put into it and how nervous you were about how it would turn out. Somewhere in the middle of your rambling, Geto chuckled softly and said, “You really overthink things sometimes, don’t you?”

His tone was light, and you knew he didn’t mean it maliciously, but the comment stopped you in your tracks. Your heart sank, and your chest tightened as those familiar insecurities reared their heads. You looked down at your tea, your appetite for conversation disappearing.

Geto immediately noticed the shift in your mood. He tilted his head, his dark eyes softening with concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked gently, leaning closer.

You shook your head. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s clearly not nothing,” he said, his voice calm but insistent. “Did I say something wrong?”

You hesitated, but his steady gaze encouraged you to speak. “It’s just… when you said I overthink things. I know I do, okay? I hear it all the time, and I hate that about myself. It feels like no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough, and people just see me as… too much.”

Geto’s expression shifted immediately, a flicker of regret crossing his face. “Hey, no, that’s not what I meant at all,” he said softly, his voice full of sincerity.

You looked away, but he gently reached across the table, his hand brushing against yours. “Listen to me,” he said, his tone warm and steady. “I wasn’t trying to say that in a bad way. I know you overthink because you care. You care so much about everything, and that’s not a flaw—it’s a strength.”

You blinked at him, his words catching you off guard.

“You put your whole heart into what you do, and yeah, sometimes it makes you nervous or unsure, but that’s only because you want things to be perfect,” he continued. “And honestly? That’s one of the things I admire most about you. I could never think of that as a bad thing.”

The tightness in your chest began to ease as his words sank in. “You really mean that?” you asked softly.

Geto smiled gently, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Of course I do. And I’m sorry if what I said made you feel like I didn’t. I’ll be more careful with my words next time.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Thank you.”

He chuckled softly. “You don’t have to thank me. It’s my job to remind you how amazing you are when you forget.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, and the tension that had settled between you melted away.

“Now,” he said, his tone lightening as he leaned back in his chair, “how about I make it up to you with dessert? I hear they’ve got a mean matcha cheesecake here.”

You laughed quietly, shaking your head. “Fine, but you’re paying.”

“Always,” he said with a playful smirk, raising his hand to call for the waiter.

Nanami Kento

Nanami Kento had had an exhausting day. Every step he took up the stairs to your shared apartment felt heavier than the last, and all he wanted was to come home, see you, and let the warmth of your presence melt away the stress.

When he opened the door, you greeted him with your usual enthusiasm, rushing over to pull him into a tight hug. “Kento! You’re home!” you exclaimed, your excitement practically radiating off you.

He managed a small smile and placed a hand on your back, but the weight of his day still hung over him. “Hi,” he said softly, his voice tired.

You didn’t seem to notice his exhaustion as you began talking a mile a minute. “I missed you! You won’t believe the day I had—oh, and guess what? I tried that recipe you love, and I think it turned out amazing! Oh, and Louis did the funniest thing today—”

“Can you give me a second?” he snapped, his voice sharper than he intended.

The room fell silent, and the warmth in your expression dimmed instantly. You stepped back, your arms falling to your sides. “Oh,” you said softly. “Sorry.”

Nanami immediately felt a pang of regret as he saw the hurt in your eyes. You weren’t upset because he was tired—you were upset because he’d made you feel like your excitement didn’t matter to him.

You turned away, mumbling something about letting him settle in, but he quickly reached out and gently grabbed your hand. “Wait,” he said, his voice softer now.

You hesitated, looking at him but avoiding his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, his grip on your hand firm but gentle. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s not your fault I had a hard day. I… I was looking forward to seeing you all day, and then I let my frustration get in the way.”

You blinked, your lips trembling slightly. “I just wanted to make you happy,” you admitted quietly.

“And you do,” he said immediately, stepping closer to you. “You’re the best part of my day. Always.”

Your eyes met his then, searching his face for the truth in his words. His expression was soft, full of remorse and affection.

“I don’t deserve to have you greet me with so much love after the way I acted,” he said, gently pulling you into his arms. “But I promise I’ll do better. You’re everything to me, and I should have treated you like it.”

You rested your forehead against his chest, feeling his arms tighten around you. “I just got too excited,” you murmured.

“And I love that about you,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Your excitement, your energy—it’s what makes this place feel like home. I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate it like I should’ve.”

For a moment, you stood there in his embrace, his warmth and steady heartbeat easing the lingering hurt.

“Do you want to sit down and tell me about your day?” he asked after a moment, pulling back slightly to look at you. “I want to hear everything.”

You hesitated, then nodded, a small smile creeping onto your face. “Okay. But only if you let me heat up dinner for you first.”

He chuckled softly. “Deal. But don’t rush—just being here with you is enough.”

And as you led him to the table, the weight of his day began to lift, replaced by the comfort of knowing he was home—with you.

Toji fushiguro

Toji Fushiguro wasn’t the type to watch his words. His bluntness was just part of who he was—sharp, quick, and sometimes careless. Most of the time, you brushed it off, knowing he didn’t mean to hurt you. But tonight, it cut deeper than usual.

The two of you were in the kitchen after dinner. You were putting away dishes, humming softly, while Toji leaned against the counter with his arms crossed, watching you.

“I’ve been thinking about trying something new,” you said, your tone excited. “Like a cooking class or maybe painting—something creative. I think it could be fun.”

Toji grunted in response, not looking up from the dish he was drying.

You hesitated but kept going, trying to draw him into the conversation. “What do you think? Would you want to try something like that with me?”

Toji sighed and set the dish down a little too hard, the sound making you flinch. “You don’t stick with stuff like that, do you?” he said, his voice flat. “You get all excited and then drop it a week later. What’s the point?”

You froze, his words hitting harder than you expected. You knew he had a point—sometimes you did lose interest in things quickly. But hearing him say it so bluntly, so dismissively, made your chest tighten.

“I…” Your voice wavered as you set the plate in your hands on the counter. “I just thought it’d be nice to do something together.”

Toji finally looked up, his brows furrowing when he saw the way your shoulders slumped. “Hey, don’t get all upset about it,” he said, his tone softening, but it didn’t help.

“I’m not upset,” you said quickly, though the slight tremble in your voice betrayed you. “I just… never mind.”

You turned away, trying to hide the tears that were already welling up, but Toji wasn’t one to let things go.

“Hey,” he said, his voice quieter now as he stepped closer. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” you mumbled, but when you tried to brush past him, he caught your wrist gently.

“Look at me,” he said firmly, his tone still low but insistent. You hesitated, and when you finally met his gaze, he could see the hurt in your eyes.

“Damn it,” he muttered, his grip on your wrist loosening. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You didn’t have to say it at all,” you whispered. “You make me feel like I’m… not good at anything.”

Toji’s jaw tightened, guilt flashing across his face. He wasn’t good at this—at saying the right things or fixing mistakes—but he hated seeing you like this, especially when he was the one who caused it.

“You’re good at plenty of things,” he said, his tone softer now. “And… I’m an idiot for saying that to you. I wasn’t trying to put you down. I just… I don’t know how to say things without sounding like a jerk sometimes.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his voice.

“I think it’s a great idea,” he admitted after a moment, rubbing the back of his neck. “The cooking class or whatever. And I’d do it with you if that’s what you want.”

“You don’t have to just say that,” you murmured.

“I’m not just saying it,” he said, stepping closer until he could wrap his arms around you. “You’re trying to do something fun, and instead of supporting you, I ran my mouth like an idiot. I’m sorry.”

His arms around you were warm and steady, and you could feel the sincerity in the way he held you.

“You’d really go with me?” you asked, your voice still small.

“Yeah,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Even if I suck at it, I’d go. For you.”

Your lips quirked up into a small smile, the sting of his earlier words starting to fade. “Okay,” you said softly, leaning into his chest.

Toji smirked, holding you a little tighter. “Good. But don’t expect me to wear an apron or anything. That’s where I draw the line.”

You laughed, the sound lightening the room, and he sighed in relief, grateful to see your smile again.

Sukuna Ryomen

The Heian era was a time of beauty and chaos, and life with Sukuna Ryomen was no exception. Known as the King of Curses, Sukuna was feared across the land, but to you, he was something else entirely. His presence, though intimidating, had always been a source of strange comfort. However, his sharp tongue often betrayed him, and tonight was one of those nights.

You had spent the entire day crafting something special—a delicate embroidered cloth featuring patterns of crimson and gold, colors you knew he favored. Each stitch was precise, your fingers aching by the time you finished, but the thought of presenting it to Sukuna filled you with anticipation.

When you brought the finished piece to him that evening, you entered his chambers with cautious excitement, kneeling before him as he sat on his throne-like dais. “My lord,” you began softly, holding out the cloth, “I made this for you. I thought you might like it.”

Sukuna’s four crimson eyes flicked to the offering, and for a brief moment, there was silence. Then he spoke, his tone as sharp as ever.

“You spent all day on this?” he said, his voice laced with disdain. “What use do I have for something so… trivial?”

The words hit you harder than you anticipated. You had poured your heart into the gift, hoping to please him, and now your efforts felt meaningless. You lowered your hands, clutching the cloth tightly as your vision blurred with tears you desperately tried to hold back.

“I… I just wanted to give you something,” you murmured, your voice trembling.

Sukuna’s brows furrowed at the shift in your tone. He could sense your emotions as clearly as the tension in the air, and the sight of you so visibly upset stirred something in him—something he wasn’t used to feeling.

“Tch,” he muttered, leaning forward slightly, his gaze fixed on you. “Why are you crying? I didn’t tell you to do something like this.”

You shook your head, your voice breaking. “I know. I just… I thought it would make you happy.”

Sukuna let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. He wasn’t good at this—at softening his edges. But seeing you like this unsettled him in a way that battles and curses never could

“Look at me,” he commanded, his tone firm but quieter now.

Reluctantly, you raised your eyes to meet his. His gaze wasn’t as harsh as before, and for a moment, the room felt less heavy.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, his voice low but sincere. “I’m not good with… things like this.” He gestured vaguely at the cloth in your hands. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it.”

Your breath hitched slightly. “You… you do?”

“Yes,” he said, almost impatiently, but his tone lacked its usual edge. “I’m just not someone who knows how to handle… thoughtful gestures. But that doesn’t mean they’re wasted on me.”

You blinked, the sting of his earlier words starting to fade. “I just wanted to give you something that reminded you of… us. Of me.”

Sukuna’s lips quirked into the faintest smirk. “And you think I could forget you?”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, and he chuckled lowly, clearly pleased with your reaction. He reached out, taking the cloth from your hands, his fingers brushing yours briefly.

“It’s well-made,” he admitted, running his thumb over the intricate stitching. “Better than I expected.”

A small smile tugged at your lips, and Sukuna leaned back, his gaze softening just slightly. “Next time, don’t exhaust yourself for my sake,” he said. “You don’t need to prove anything to me.”

“I just wanted to make you happy,” you said softly, your earlier sadness melting away.

“You do,” he replied, his voice quiet but steady. “Even without this.”

The warmth in his words made your heart ache in the best way, and as he set the cloth aside carefully, you knew that, in his own way, Sukuna was trying.

Megumi Fushiguro

Megumi Fushiguro was in a foul mood. Gojo had been pestering him all day—constant teasing, unnecessary tasks, and endless comments that pushed his patience to the brink. By the time he walked through the door, his mind was racing, and he felt like he was ready to snap at anything that moved.

You had been waiting for him to come home, your excitement bubbling as you thought about sharing the small surprise you’d planned for him: his favorite snacks arranged neatly on the coffee table and a cozy spot on the couch waiting for him to relax.

When he walked in, you greeted him with a bright smile. “Megumi! Welcome home! I set up—”

“Can you just give me a second?” he snapped, not even looking up as he kicked off his shoes and dropped his bag with more force than necessary.

You froze, startled by the sharpness of his tone. “Oh… I didn’t mean to bother you,” you said softly, your voice already trembling slightly.

Megumi sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not about you, okay? I just need some space.”

Your chest tightened at his words. He didn’t even glance at the effort you’d put into making his evening better. The snacks, the cozy setup—it all felt meaningless now. “I just wanted to help,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you turned away, your shoulders slumping.

The sound of your soft, hurt tone stopped Megumi in his tracks. He looked up and finally noticed the care you’d put into the room—the snacks, the cozy setting, and the clear effort to make him feel better. Guilt hit him like a wave.

“Wait,” he said, his voice gentler now as he stepped closer to you. “I… I’m sorry.”

You didn’t turn to face him, your hands nervously fiddling with your sleeves. “It’s fine,” you said, though the crack in your voice betrayed your true feelings.

“It’s not fine,” Megumi said, his tone firm but remorseful. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. You didn’t deserve that.”

You glanced back at him, your eyes glistening. “I was just trying to make you feel better,” you murmured, “but if you don’t want me here, I can—”

“No,” he cut in quickly, shaking his head. “I don’t want you to leave. Please.”

He hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. “It’s been a rough day, and I let my frustration get the better of me. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. You were trying to do something nice for me, and I acted like an idiot.”

You stared at him for a moment, his rare vulnerability catching you off guard. “You mean that?”

“I do,” he said, stepping closer and gently taking your hand. “I see what you did here. It’s thoughtful, and it means a lot to me. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.”

Your lips trembled as a small smile broke through. “I just wanted you to relax after your day.”

“And I’m lucky to have you,” he said, squeezing your hand gently. “Let me make it up to you.”

You hesitated before nodding, letting him guide you to the couch. As the two of you sat together, Megumi reached for one of the snacks you’d prepared, a small but genuine smile tugging at his lips.

“Thank you,” he said softly, glancing at you.

“For what?” you asked, tilting your head.

“For being patient with me,” he said. “And for always knowing how to make things better—even when I don’t deserve it.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you leaned against him, letting the tension of the evening fade away. Megumi might not always get it right, but moments like this reminded you why you loved him so much.

Yuji Itadori

Yuji Itadori wasn’t the type to snap at people—he was always upbeat, kind, and quick to laugh things off. But after a long day of missions, training, and dealing with the stress of being Sukuna’s vessel, he’d finally managed to steal a rare moment of relaxation, engrossed in a video game he’d been trying to beat for weeks.

You, excited to share some news with him, entered the room without realizing how deeply focused he was. “Yuji! Guess what happened today?” you said cheerfully, walking over to him.

“Not now,” he muttered, his eyes glued to the screen, fingers flying across the controller.

You hesitated, unsure if he’d heard you properly. “It’ll only take a second! You won’t believe—”

“I said not now!” he snapped, his tone sharper than you’d ever heard before.

The sudden harshness of his voice made you stop in your tracks. Your excitement vanished, replaced with a sinking feeling in your chest. You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say, before mumbling, “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to bother you.”

Your voice was so soft, Yuji almost didn’t catch it. But when he heard the hurt in your tone and turned to see the way your expression had fallen, his stomach twisted with guilt.

“Wait, no, I didn’t mean—” he started, but you were already backing away. “I’ll just… leave you alone,” you said quietly, heading toward the door.

Yuji quickly paused the game and jumped to his feet. “Wait! Don’t go!”

You stopped but didn’t turn around, your arms crossed tightly as if trying to protect yourself from the sting of his words.

Yuji rubbed the back of his neck, his face filled with regret. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice softer now. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. That was really uncool of me.”

You glanced over your shoulder, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I just wanted to tell you something. I didn’t think it would make you so mad…”

“I wasn’t mad at you,” he said quickly, stepping closer. “I was just so caught up in the game, and I got frustrated. But that’s not an excuse. You didn’t deserve that.”

You bit your lip, unsure if you should say anything, and Yuji reached out, gently touching your arm. “Hey,” he said, his voice warm and sincere. “I’m really, really sorry. You’re way more important to me than some stupid game.”

His words made your heart ache in the best way, and you finally turned to face him fully. “You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” he said, giving you that familiar, boyish grin that made it hard to stay upset. “Tell me what happened today. I want to hear everything.”

“You’re sure? I don’t want to interrupt…” you trailed off.

Yuji shook his head quickly. “Forget the game. I want to spend time with you.”

The sincerity in his voice melted away the last of your hurt, and you let yourself smile again. As you started sharing your story, Yuji sat beside you, listening intently, determined to make up for his mistake.

And when you laughed at one of his playful comments, Yuji silently promised himself to never let a moment like that happen again. You were his safe place, his reason to smile, and no game—or anything else—could ever compare.

[moonstruckme]

Hey Mae!!! I saw that the requests were open so I thought I would request something but if I misread it or something then please ignore this!

I was wondering if you could write something with reader not used to being taken care of? Like they have always taken care of others and have never had the opportunity to be taken care of so when someone else does they feel the need to do something for them in return? I was thinking of maybe Remus for this one? Or maybe a poly! Ship but you can write whoever you want!!

I understand if this is not a topic you would like to write about but I just love your writing and thought I would give it a try. Thank you for reading this anyway and I hope you have a wonderful day/night!

(Sorry it’s such a long request)

No you were right lovely! Thanks for your request :)

roommate!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 625 words

You pad into the kitchen, blanket around your shoulders and half-dissolved lozenge tucked into your cheek, to find the sink clear of dishes yet again. Guilt grows like winding vines around your ribcage. 

You put on the kettle. Stand over it as the steam starts to rise, breathing in the thick air and imagining you can feel the pressure in your sinuses lessening slightly. You make a cup of turmeric tea with honey for yourself, and English breakfast for Remus, stirring in a tiny bit of sugar the way he likes. You’re careful to keep it well away from you and your potential contagious-ness while you carry it upstairs. 

You knock softly in case, but Remus is awake, as you knew he’d be. 

“Morning,” he says, looking up from his book with a smile. The sight of him, sleep-rumpled and happy to see you, is almost too much. His eyes flicker down to the mugs you’re carrying, eyebrows lifting. “For me?” 

“Mhm.” You pass it to him, ignoring his soft tutting when you turn it in your grip so the handle is facing out towards him. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says warmly. He blows steam off the top, honeyed eyes on yours. “I should be the one getting up to make you tea, really. How are you?” 

“I’m okay.” You shrug, taking a sip of your tea. The heat dissolves your lozenge faster, double soothing for your throat. “And you’ve done more than enough already. Sorry about the dishes.” 

Remus’ expression clouds with confusion for a moment before he realizes what you’re talking about. “Oh, I don’t mind. I wouldn’t be doing dishes if I was unwell, either.” 

“Thanks for doing them for me,” you say softly. Or you try to, but it ends in a rasp, your throat contracting against a cough that doesn’t form. You clear it embarrassedly. 

Your roommate’s brows bend with sympathy. “Don’t worry about it,” he tells you. “It’s really no problem. You don’t need to bring me tea just because I did a few of your dishes.” 

“I want to make it up to you.” 

His expression softens. “There’s nothing to make up, love. It’s not a debt that needs to be repaid.” 

You frown, chewing your lozenge. “At least let me make you breakfast. Is there anything you’re craving?” 

“No.” Remus smiles at you. Not quite confused, almost disbelieving. “You don’t need to make me anything. You should be resting.” 

“I’ve been resting.” You sniff, wincing at the pain it sends through your head. You’ve been either in bed or on the couch for days, and meanwhile Remus has been cleaning up your messes, keeping quiet so you can sleep, and bringing you soup from that place you like down the street. 

“It’s my turn to help now,” you say. 

“It’ll be your turn when I’m poorly and miserable.” Remus sets a hand to your forehead, humming disapprovingly. You use every scrap of willpower you have left not to melt into his bed. “Listen to me, alright? I don’t mind looking after you. It’s not transactional. I washed your dishes because they were there and I had the time, and—” He gives you a playful look. “—because I know that if I were up all night coughing, I wouldn’t want to worry about dishes. Okay?” 

His eyes hold yours. You feel perhaps the most out of it you have since this illness came on. Drunk, almost. “Okay,” you capitulate. 

Remus smiles. “Thank you. So you can stop trying to think up ways to get even.” He picks up his tea. “I can see that head of yours working. Leave it alone, it’s going through enough.” 

You smile back, caught. “Thanks for all your help.” 

“Don’t worry about it, love.”

[rafemotherfuckingcameron]

something with rafe comforting reader after she calls him and he picks her up from work because she bad cramps

CRAMPS

Word Count: 9.0k

Pairing(s): Reader x Rafe

Warnings: Cramps, Anxiety, Blood

Summary: Overwhelmed by painful cramps, you call Rafe for help

The cramps were unbearable, hitting like relentless waves. You tried to push through, focusing on your work, but the pain sharpened, and dizziness set in. Concentration was impossible.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. Unsteady on your feet, you made your way to the bathroom. Each step was an effort, and the dull ache turned into something far worse. Inside, you locked the door and stumbled to the mirror. Your hands shook as you fumbled with your jeans, but the sight froze you in place. Blood—more than you’d ever expected—had soaked through your underwear, staining your clothes.

Panic surged. You hadn’t anticipated this, hadn’t prepared for it to be so bad. What was happening? What were you supposed to do now? Tears welled as you stood there, helpless. Your breaths grew shallow, and your heart raced with fear. A knock on the door jolted you.

“Hey, you okay in there?” a co-worker asked, concern evident in her voice.

You wiped at your face and replied, “I’m fine. Just give me a minute.”

Her footsteps receded, and you exhaled shakily, sinking to the floor. Trapped in the moment, unsure of what to do, you fumbled for your phone and typed a desperate text:

“Can I call you?”

The seconds stretched endlessly as you stared at the screen. No reply. Unable to wait, you dialed Rafe. The phone rang and rang, unanswered. Frantic, you left a voicemail, your voice breaking: “Babe, I need your help. Please… I’m scared, and I don’t know what to do.”

Hanging up, tears spilled freely as pain and fear consumed you. Each movement made the cramps worse. The more you tried to clean up, the bigger the mess became. Blood smeared everywhere, and you felt utterly defeated. When your phone finally buzzed, Rafe’s name lit up the screen.

-

“Rafe?” you answered, voice trembling.

“Hey, babe. I just got your voicemail. What’s wrong?” His concern was immediate.

“I’ve got cramps, and there’s… so much blood,” you stammered, choking on your sobs. “I feel sick, and I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m on my way. Just stay where you are,” he said firmly. “Don’t move too much, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered. Relief mixed with anxiety as you waited for him. The pain continued, each wave worse than the last. Finally, there was a soft knock on the door.

“It’s me, babe,” Rafe called gently.

You unlocked the door, letting him in. His eyes took in the mess—the stained clothes, the bloody towels—and then he saw you. Pale and tear-streaked, you looked so small. Without hesitation, he locked the door and pulled you into his arms.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, sobbing into his chest.

“Shh, don’t apologize,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”

After a moment, he guided you to sit on the toilet lid and opened the bag he’d brought. From it, he pulled out fresh clothes and a damp washer. With tender care, he began cleaning you up, his movements calm and methodical. Despite the mess, he never flinched, his focus entirely on comforting you.

Once he helped you into clean clothes, he packed the soiled ones in a plastic bag. “I spoke to your boss,” he said softly. “You’re done for the day. I’m taking you home.”

Tears welled up again, this time from relief. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Let’s get you home.”

At home, Rafe guided you to the lounge, covering you with a blanket and placing a hot water bottle on your stomach. “Just relax, babe. I’m going to make you some soup.”

You nodded, feeling the first bit of comfort as the warmth began easing the pain. When he returned with a bowl of lentil soup and a glass of water, he sat beside you, stroking your hair as you ate.

“I love you,” you said softly, looking at him with teary eyes.

Rafe leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I love you too, baby. More than anything.”

@ilovethekookprince @anonymouscameron @rafecameronsgirfriend

[takamiwife]

puppy girl y/n

💌 this post is nsfw, mdni! <3 💌

💕 side note: i do have drafts of things yall have left me in my inbox. i don’t have a specific time for when they will be out, i just have had such little motivation lol. holidays + working + i think i need to up my meddies dose #seasonaldepressionsucksass (possibly tmi but it’s whatever i love yall). they’re not being ignored i just suck 🥲💕

tw // mentions of heat and breeding/pregnancy

okay but imagine kei dating you, who has a puppy quirk. like, fluffy ears that match your hair color that flop over your head, and an adorable tail that swishes back and forth. hey, it’s an easy way for him to tell your mood

it’s literally impossible for you to hide when you get excited or happy, because not only will your tail wag, but your butt moves with it gently. half the time you don’t even notice

sure, you can reach between your ears to scratch, but it’s so much better when he does it. his hands are soft yet rough enough at the same time and it just makes your brain go hfhhdjgnn

but of course you can’t help your heat. that’s the problem with having an animal-related mutant quirk. keigo loves it, because it always starts with you being extra clingy with him. sneaking under his arm while he’s reading or on his phone, your ears popping up as you nuzzle into his chest and cling to him for dear life, holding his arm whenever you have to go in public, and, he can’t lie, it’s pretty cute when you glare at other girls that talk to him or ask for pictures

i mean, you try to ignore your girlfriend standing aside as she stitches her brows together, trying to keep from bearing her teeth as her tail wags slowly while some innocent fans ask for pictures

he loves how much you need him

so when you get home and inevitably crawl on top of him, whining and whimpering as his hands slip under your pants, he can’t help but mumble into your skin

“my poor baby, you just need this so badly, don’t you?”

“don’t worry, ‘m gonna take care of you. it’s not your fault you need to be bred, is it?”

and you shake your head, bucking your hips against his hand as his fingers rub lazy circles around your clit. it’s just enough to drive you insane.

watching you on your knees, your tail wagging back and forth as you eagerly suck his cock while he scratches your head and your ears, groaning out:

“good girl, you’re such a good girl for me.”

you can imagine it’s hard for him to control himself when you climb onto the bed, your face pressed into the mattress as your back arches, your perfect ass in the air. it’s hard to not cum right there while he pumps his cock

“this what you need baby? hm?” he asks, pressing his swollen tip against your weeping entrance, his lips close to your ear

“mhm! pl-pleaseeee, kei.. need- need it, need you..”

and who is he to turn you down?

i mean fuck you are just so tight and so, so fucking wet for him. poor thing, you still have to stretch around his big cock.

he grips the base of your tail, tugging it gently as you bounce back onto his hips.

“there we go, ‘atta girl.. that’s my girl..”

he praises you while he smacks your ass, relishing in the sound that echoes in the room

i mean, watching you pant and drool, your tongue poking out between your tiny fangs is really just the cherry on top. he pulls your hair back just to watch as you try to hold on, snaking his hand between your shaking legs to rub your reddened clit.

“need me to cum in you baby? hm? cmon, speak up for me.”

“yes, yes, yes! please! i need- need your cum, need it, i need it..!”

so of course he’s going to cum in you, spilling his load in your tight cunt.

oh, i’m sorry.. did you think he was done?

without even taking his cock out, he leans over, pressing his chest against your back, fucking his own cum into you

“‘m gonna get you fuckin’ pregnant..” he grunts. “that what you want? want me to fill you up til you’re knocked up? my good girl is gonna have my fuckin’ kids..”

and my god did he love feeling your cunt tighten around his cock.

“i know you’re gonna cum. why don’t you, hm? cum all over this big fucking cock, it’ll make me so happy, baby.. ‘cuz as soon as you cum i’m fillin’ you up again.”

and so you’d finally let the building pressure in your lower tummy go, letting a sheet-gripping, toe-curling orgasm wash over you

keigo grips your hips to a nearly bruise-forming degree, fucking into you at an un-intelligible pace.

“cumming, cumming, cumming..” he mumbles, lost in the feeling, lost in you and filling you to the brim.

wait, who was the one in heat again?

he bites down on your shoulder as he cums again, sure to leave it in a spot only he would see… but, no off the shoulder tops for you for a while <3

though you’re totally spent, he would completely spoil you after. anything you needed. warm wash cloth, making sure to clean up the mess the two of you made, all the cuddles you want, water, snacks, and of course something to put on the little mark he left.

man, he couldn’t wait til next month

[dorabellingham]

Long distance

warning: none

characters: jude x reader

summary: when your long-distance relationship is going through a turbulent time, but you do everything to understand each other

request: yes!

may contain spelling and translation errors!

The months passed quickly, and despite the distance, you and Jude tried to stay connected. He was in Madrid, living the peak of his career, with intense training, games and constant travel, while you, in another country, focused on your college year. The distance was testing your limits, but so far, you seemed to be able to keep the flame alive. However, there were times, like this one, when you felt that something wasn't right.

It was a cold Thursday night, and you were at home, after another long week of studies and commitments. You looked at your phone, checking if you had any messages from Jude. You saw that he had sent you a good night message, as he always did when you weren't talking in person, but when you opened the screen, you saw that he was busy with something and couldn't answer at those times. It was something common, but that night, a feeling of emptiness hit you even harder. You tried to be understanding. You knew that Jude was at a decisive moment in his career and that football demanded a lot of his time. However, you couldn’t help but feel alone. The long-distance relationship was getting hard to sustain. You always tried your best to be patient, but you also had your own emotional needs, and as much as you loved your boyfriend, you couldn’t hide the fact that you were feeling neglected. That night, instead of just texting him that you were fine, you sat on your bed and decided to write something more sincere. You knew you had to be honest with him, no matter how hard it was.

"Jude, I know you’re super busy and I don’t want to be a burden, but… sometimes I feel like you’re so distant. Not physically, of course, but emotionally. I understand how much football takes out of you, but I also need you here, you know? And there are days when I really feel like I’m doing this all by myself. I don’t want to be demanding, but can you help me understand what’s going on? I just don’t want to feel invisible.”

You hesitated a little before hitting send, but you knew you had to say it. You didn’t want the frustration to build up to the point where it could harm their relationship. Instead, you preferred to get things sorted out while there was still time.

A few minutes later, your phone vibrated. It was a text from Jude.

“Sweetie, I’m sorry if I left you feeling this way. I really didn’t mean to. You know how grateful I am for everything you’ve done for us. I can’t deny that I’m completely focused on my work, but that will never be more important than you. I love you and I’m struggling to find balance. I want you to know that I need you here too, more than you know. Let’s talk about this when you can.”

You felt an immediate sense of relief. You knew he wasn’t trying to push you away, but the feeling of being neglected hurt you deeply. You took a deep breath and sent a reply.

“I love you, Jude. I know it’s hard for you too, and I don’t mean to be selfish. Just… please don’t make me feel like I’m an option when you already have so much going on. I just need to know that I’m still important to you, even with all this crazy schedule you have.”

Your phone vibrated again.

“You’ll always be my priority, Y/n. I’m just trying to organize myself so that we can be together as much as possible. I don’t want you to feel that way, no way. Let’s figure it out. Give me some time and we’ll plan something together, something just for us, so you can see how important you are to me. I promise I’ll try to make this easier for you. I’m not going to give up on us.”

You smiled, feeling a soft relief this time. You knew that, despite the distance and the challenges, the love between you were still strong. You were still learning to deal with the situation, and that was something natural, something that many long-distance relationships face.

A few hours later, you finally received a call from Jude. The sound of his voice calmed you down immediately, and you closed your eyes as you listened to him speak, knowing that, despite the pressure and the distance, you still belonged together.

—Babe, I just wanted to hear from you. I was thinking about how we can improve this. Maybe I should call you more often, or even text you more when I know you need me.

You interrupted him softly, with a light laugh.

—I’m not the type of person to complain, but sometimes I feel like I’m trying too hard to be strong on my own. And yes, a more frequent message would make me feel more present. I know you’re doing your best, Jude. It’s just that sometimes the best seems so far away, darling.

Jude sighed, as if he was relieved to finally hear your truth. He could feel the weight of your words, and it touched him deeply.

—I understand. And I’m going to do it. I’m going to be more present. Because you deserve it. You deserve to know that I’m completely yours, even if the distance tries to separate us. I’m going to make things work, because you’re the most important thing in my life.

You smiled at his words. The feeling of warmth was almost instantaneous. You had had a difficult conversation, but a necessary conversation, and that was the most important thing. You didn’t want to be neglected, but you didn’t want to be selfish either. You just wanted to be with him, by his side, even if that meant you had to adjust a little.

—I love you, Jude. I’m here for you too, always. And I know that in the end, everything will work out. We’ll get through this together.

He was silent for a moment before answering.

—I love you more, babe. And I’m going to show you that I can be better for both of us.

That night, even though you were miles apart, you and Jude felt closer than ever. Your conversation was a reminder that despite the hardships of distance and Jude’s career, what really mattered was your commitment to each other. You weren’t giving up. You were simply learning to be better in your relationship, day by day.

[newtonsheffield]

I think it’s time. Anthony can ask Kate out. Neddy called him daddy and he’s spending time alone with him.

Everything is going great, Anthony and Kate deserve the win.

Just wait until Kate comes home to find him and Neddy asleep on the sofa.

Two adorable little sleepy frowns tucked up together on the sofa. That’s when Kate knows she’s falling a little bit in love with Anthony.

And would that really be the worst thing? He’s hot and he’s a good Dad, not just the Dad kids love because they get away with anything. Anthony’s actually a good Dad. Anthony’s never not worn a cap when they’ve been outside since that day and he gives Neddy the money to pay for his juice and holds him up to the register gently saying

“Please and thank you, Neddy.”

Before Neddy nods, “Orange Juice, please and thank you.”

His first offer for Child support had Kate’s jaw on the floor while he blinked at her from across the table, his lawyer sat beside him.

“Is it too low? I’m sorry, I don’t know what Sophie’s salary is so I estimated what I think fair salary would be based on her degree and-“

“okay, I don’t pay her that much!” Kate squeaked

Anthony blinked mildly, “Oh, we should give her a pay rise. I’ve done a hit of research on the Nanny market and I really think she’s huge get for us.”

“I know that!”

Anthony seems like he’s in a way better place than he was when they met and he’s sweet and thoughtful. Would it be the worst thing if she liked him? Really?

[hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch]

Agatha: Hi I’m Agatha harkness and I got a phone call saying I needed to come down here immediately?

Policewoman: Yes those two over there, are they yours?

Agatha looking at the cell with Rio and…her rabbit??

Agatha going to the cell: What the hell have you done? And why is my precious baby rabbit here? And where’s Nicky?!

Rio cuddling scratchy close: No hi? No ‘oh my love why are you in jail?’

Agatha: Where’s our son Vidal!?

Rio: He’s with Lilia, I transported him to her shop when the police started chasing me

Agatha sighing in relief: Oh thank the divine mother he’s safe, now! What the fuck did you do to get arrested??

Rio: It was just an unfortunate series of events, I went to collect a body and obviously when I collect a body most of the time it is between the life and death stage, I wont bore you with the silly details, so basically an empty room or place, anyway just as I went to collect them they woke up (weird) and it was so sudden that the veil was broken and I was surrounded by shocked people, then the police turned up and caught me before i had any chance of disappearing

Agatha: You took our son to collect a body??

Rio: It was a spare of the moment thing! I just saw the guy collapse and felt his soul die, so I needed to collect!

Agatha: You really know how to piss me off don’t you?

Rio: I do it with so much love, so can you get me out of here?

Agatha: Sure *turns to the police officer* you can let her out now

Policewoman laughs: No can do darling, she’ll be going to court for attempted murder and after that maybe you pay her bail but i doubt it

Agatha rolls her eyes: Yeah I don’t have time for that *shoots a blast of magic at the woman knocking her unconscious*

Rio: You’re so hot when you use magic to hurt others, is she dead? I hope so, I want to reap her stupid soul so badly

Agatha: That would be your reward so no she isn’t dead, she’s just knocked out and had her memories of the last 24 hours wiped

Rio: You’ve gone soft my love

Agatha: oh really? You wont say that later when you have your mouth full

Rio:…Full of what?

Agatha: What do you think Mocosa?

Rio:…fuck okay yeah I’m sorry

Agatha: Also why is Señor scratchy here?

Rio: Nicky wanted to take him to school

Agatha: Of course he did

[reignpage]

hi reign!!! I hope you’re doing well 🫶

the horniness is back (it never left), what do you think the jjk men are like as virgins? 😈

like their general demeanor and attitude towards sex and the other person (nervous/confident/embarrassed), what their age is (envisioning they’re losing their v card later in life although there really isn’t a set time to lose it ✋😤), anyone cumming early/in their pants? 🤭 plus any details you can think of!

feel free to ignore this ask if you’ve done something like this before or if you don’t want to, you did just finish a literal SAGA with Sukuna 😭

much love reign! 💕💕

Here you go horny

Gojo 

Realistically he likely would have lost it quite young cause he’s an overachiever like that But I think if he’s like in college or college age, he meets an older woman he wants to impress he’ll fluff his feathers like a peacock  Too cocky  Thinks he’ll be naturally good at anything and everything  May not even know where the clit is “I bet I can make you cum within seconds” “Easy peasy lemon squeezy” Deffo jerked off before coming cause he heard that makes you last longer Doesn’t even let you suck him off cause he just wants to be sure “Nah, let’s save that for later, right now it’s about you, baby” Messy eater No technique Just motorboats you  AND SOMEHOW MAKES YOU CUM He’s so fucking smug  “Told ya” And then putting it in he cums immediately lol  And LIES??? “N-no of course -ngh- not” And he’s so embarrassed he goes bright red and tries to fuck you through it  “Fuck! Are you near? N-no reason, j-just asking” Ends up overstimulating himself  Cums twice  And passes out  Meanwhile you’re just laying there like 😑 Then in the morning, he’s all like  “Hey, gorgeous. Last night was something, huh” “Hey! Wait! Where are you going??”

Geto

Canonically more popular with the ladies than Gojo In adulthood, probably loses it around 20 years old too If he meets a girl he’s curious enough to spend the time with  Kind of confident Smoothtalker Takes things very slow Really takes his time and enjoys the moment  It’s very sensual “I could taste you forever” “Go on, pretty girl, make yourself cum on my hand” And you’re just like, you lied for sure cause ain’t no way you’re a virgin He’s really really good Might get a little carried with his kinks tho Chokes you but doesn’t really know how and ends up almost killing you maybe Generally though, I see him as the kind of virgin partner who’s willing to learn to your preferences and adjusts accordingly  He’s not selfish at all “Feeling good? You want more?” Mostly quiet, still unsure of how to approach his own fantasies and desires I imagine he’s a shit one night stand though cause he’ll disappear immediately and never calls 

Choso

Pretty ‘late’ or pretty early, no in-between  Realistically, I think he gets roped in by an older, more experienced woman That sounds kinda sus but I mean, he gets overwhelmed by the attention and doesn’t know what to do so he just leaves it up to you “Y-yes, whatever you want” “Okay, yes, of course! I um I don’t mind” Eager to please Will spend all night eating you out tbh Would be very happy just like that Cums in his pants FOR SURE He grinds against the mattress as he eats you out and cums If you’re straddling him as you make out, and you grind down on him He cums If you jerk him off with one stroke, he cums Cums and cums like everything had been saved up for that moment  “S-sorry, I tried really h-hard to hold it in -ngh- l-like you said” Gets very embarrassed but loves being teased Once he gets inside, bruh only takes one or two strokes and you’re filled with cum, or rather the condom is (lucky condom sigh) What he lacks in discipline and technique, he more than makes up for with enthusiasm 

Toji

Freak from day one Super cocky too Loses it pretty young  But if it was in adulthood, he totally loses it to an older woman I’m talking milf He probably watches a lot of porn So he doesn’t know about foreplay Just tries to shove it inside immediately Then you try to make him slow down and do all the fun stuff And he’ll do it but he’s not really that interested, just wants to get to the good part  You have to teach him not to be selfish  “I don’t fucking get it. What’s the point?” But once he realises or understands Then yeah… He’ll spend all night making you cum on anything and everything that isn’t his cock “Nah, you wanted my tongue, yeah? Well here ya go”  Wouldn’t cum in his pants, or would stop before it could reach that point cause he’s very prideful  “Don’t even try, s’not gonna happen” “I ain’t no fucking teenager” Jackhammers into your pussy and you have to tell him to freaking stop cause it’s insane  “Oh yeah you like that? You like that you fucking slut?” He needs to fix his porn addiction like dude…chill….

Nanami

Oh nanami The sweetest virgin  I feel like he canonically lost it later than most people  Wouldn’t do one night stands Very gentlemanly  Only considers it after the 3rd date Kisses and holds hands first It’s very slow, sensual and respectful Full of love and affection  “God, you look so beautiful right now” Probably researched a lot beforehand Would spend hours trying to make you cum Might even have to reassure you that you’re okay and you can take things slow “It’s alright, take what you want from me” A little clumsy putting it in maybe Finds it a struggle to build up a rhythm because it just feels too good too fast  Would likely cum before you But definitely makes up for it with his tongue “I’m sorry sweetheart, that was so selfish of me”  You could probably make him cum in his pants if you’re the more dominant or experienced one “N-no, sweetheart, please, don’t. I don’t want to make a mess” Most beautiful sight ever He's all flushed, gasping for breath, fingers digging into your hips “You’re trouble, aren’t you?”

Sukuna

I feel like he might have had a lot of fun back in the day Either that or he never did cause he’s too good for humanly urges Until you Wouldn’t do one night stands He needs someone who he feels a connection with, someone he respects He also wants to make sure you’re clean Very snobby like that You also have to teach him Cause he’ll just act on animalistic urges “Here? You want me to touch that? How?” Also you have to teach him to be gentle and to slow down “Is it not better to be hasty so you may reach climax sooner?” One cock only for the first time Don’t try to make him cum in his pants, he’ll kill you out of embarrassment  I’m being so fr He’s surprisingly soft  “My nails are not hurting you? Good, stay still” Kinda scared to hurt you But once you convince him to let go of his worries and just be in the moment Then he’s gonna make you cum Just as a pride thing He refuses to be like mortal men who only care about their own pleasure “Do not mind me, seek your pleasure on my cock, go on”

[with-my-calamitous-love]

too young / too dumb / to know things like love

katsuki bk. x f! reader

when perhaps one of the most heartbreaking and stressful relationship of your entire life comes to an end, katsuki can’t resist having you for one more night. angst/smut, breakup sex, y/a katsuki

@crushmeeren the snippet i left in ur inbox 🫧 thank you for all your love

another big kiss for u, 5sos nation 🤍 inspired by ghost of you

7:09 am.

katsuki wakes up, still pushed to one corner of the bed. he has the entire king size to himself, but remains unable to sleep on that side of the bed. your side.

he groans when he sits up, pain in his shoulders and a dull throb in his heart. red eyes flicker over to the leftover coffee mug on the beside. as time passes, your lipstick stain fades. but he doesn’t need the satin red makeup left on your favourite mug to remember how your lips felt, the way they tasted.

he wishes to go back to sleep, to dream long enough for you to tell him he’d be fine. he wants to believe that, to hold onto it. even if you know he’ll find himself drowning out his pain, dancing through his house alone, he hopes you’ll lie to him.

worst of all? so many saw it coming. but you both hoped, foolishly so, that you could defy the odds.

you didn’t.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.*

“so thats it?” you ask, but its more like a statement than anything. the finality in your tone isn’t lost on katsuki. the plates in the sink are left unwashed, dinner cold and neglected. the couch mourns the couple that once embraced on it, floorboards preparing to only creak for one.

years of training, of self doubt, surviving a war and becoming a hero, and the hardest thing katsuki has ever done was walk away from you.

“i have to do this.” he chokes back tears. “you’re not happy. i’m not either

and you want to lie and tell him he’s wrong, but he’s not and that what makes you so fucking angry. he’s hoping his absence will give you the peace his love couldn’t.

“i’ll give you your sweaters back.” you say, not knowing what else to add. you’re hoping he’ll say no. keep them. there yours. they’ve always been.

instead: “thanks, babe.”

“don’t fucking call me that!” you snap, tears spilling like a broken dam.

its at that moment when it sets in for him. when he realizes this’ll be the last time he sees you, or hears your voice. that from now on, he’ll have to drown it out, dancing through his apartment with nothing but the phantoms of what was.

“…sorry, [y/n].” he hesitantly steps closer. he wishes he could yell, be the asshole you know him for. but he right now, he’s wounded, returning only half his weight. he was losing his favourite part of him.

almost pathetically so, you jump into his arms, sobbing into his chest despite the anger you feel in your bones. he doesn’t think twice before wrapping his arms around yours, pulling you into him like its the last time. it is.

“fuck you, katsuki.” you cry, and he takes it. “yeah, fuck you too, [y/n].”

he says right before kissing you, but its different this time. there’s desperation in it, to feel you, to make this goodbye count.

as much as you try to, you know you love katsuki when you can’t hate him for breaking your heart. you tug him in by his collar, dragging the two of you to the couch. cries turn into moans, pain remains more or less the same.

he’s already shirtless, something he was always comfortable doing around you. he’s so hot it makes you mad, almost wishing you wore something nicer than his old zeppelin shirt thats too big it pools at your waist.

but he doesn’t care. katsuki will fuck you no matter what, evident by how he doesn’t even bother to take it off all the way, impatient. he grabs the hem, dragging it just above your chest. its no secret he wants to see your tits bounce and face flush when he’s buried deep in you.

your morning him, and the fact that from here on out you’ll never get a dick this good.

he rubs circles on your clothed clit, rough, hypnotizing you. he has to resist the urge to slam himself into you right away. he’s already breaking your heart, he doesn’t need to hurt your pussy in the process.

but maybe you don’t care anymore, whispering in his ear. “c’mon, kats, i want you.”

his breath hitches, red eyes looking concerned. “you sure?”

“just fucking do it.”

normally, he’d tease you, tell you to be patient. but he’s not patient either, moving your panties to the side before sliding himself into you. you both moan in relief. it doesn’t take long before he starts thrusting.

“i’m sorry. i’m so fuckin’ sorry.” he almost cries, kissing his apology into your skin, his cock deeply embedded into you. he normally likes it rough, getting you on your knees and pressing you into the pillow. but right now, he needs to see you- all of you. he knows this might be the last time.

“fuck, you feel so good, katsuki.” you whisper, cupping his face while he takes deep, intimate strokes. even on the verge of destruction, even as forever falls apart, he’s still able to make love and pleasure blossom from your heart and mind. he has that hold on you, that even if you married another man the next minute, he’d still have the key to parts of you you never knew you had.

hearing his name roll off of your tongue already breaks his heart. he swears that in another universe, this works. that right after he plants his release deep in you, kissing you through your orgasm, blurring the lines between fucking and making love, he’d hold you close and wake up to your face the next morning. and when that morning comes, he’ll head off to his agency after kissing you goodbye. he’ll think of you, of protecting you, of putting you at the centre of everything he fights for. even after this all ends, he still thinks that’ll be true. even if you lose your love for him.

“where do you want me to finish, baby?” he grits out, knowing he won’t be able to call you baby anymore. for a second you think of correcting him, but resign.

“just.. do it in me.” you cry. “i don’t want you pulling out.”

“fuck, you sure ‘bout that?” he grits, but he’s not complaining. he can’t give you forever, or even proper love, but if you want it, he can give you this.

you muster out a nod, his forehead pressed against yours. he feels that your close and so is he, his pace not faltering for even a moment. this really is the last time.

and when he releases, your mind whites out in pleasure. he makes sure to get as deep into you as humanly possible, wanting every lewd drop of him nestled deep in you. he groans into your ear, riding out your pleasure with a few more thrusts before collapsing next to you.

he pulls you in, almost on instinct. tomorrow it’ll be over, but you gave him tonight.

“you fucking idiot.” he whispers, though you’re not sure if he means you or him. either way, it’d make sense. idiot was his rude, endearing nickname name for you. idiot was also how he felt about himself, losing you.

“i love you.” you say, not knowing whats next, but knowing that whatever it is, it can wait till the sun rises.

“i love you so fucking much.”

and he’s happy that those are his last words to you, because the next day, he wakes up alone.

he pats the spot where you laid on the couch. he’s hurt, but not surprised. all his things are there, but its empty. haunted.

and he’ll find other girls, models, pro heroes, names he can’t remember. he’ll lay them down on his couch, hold their hands, kiss them or even love them. you’ll find other guys to unbutton your blouse, to lend you sweaters and promise you forever. but theres a deep understanding between both you and katsuki.

it’ll never be the same like what it was with you.

[jaggedamethyst]

because i love the golden boy girlies…here’s a bit i wrote originally but decided against for part 3. (where reader first sees jayce with mel and gets jealous)

💫

The sound of two sets of footsteps approaching immediately made you search for a place to hide. Had it been only Jayce, you’d endure it. Two sets of judging eyes, however, absolutely not.

You quickly made your way to a storage cabinet far from the entrance. You remembered Jayce saying something about reorganizing and that this particular one would now house some other nerd materials. It was just your luck that it was completely empty and big enough for you to walk right into and stand in.

You let the door remain cracked a bit, observing the pair. There was a woman, with Jayce, undoubtedly beautiful.

The distance of the cabinet made it hard to hear, save for some encouragement from the woman. When she rubbed Jayce’s shoulder, though, kissing him on the cheek, was when you’d lost all resolve. It started to feel all too familiar.

You watched as he followed her body leaving the room, his posture changing after a few seconds.

He went for the door, his back toward you. “She’s gone.”

You weren’t shocked he figured out you were here.

“It’s not at my workbench, if you're looking for that.”

Oh

You stayed silent and still.

“Just come with me okay?”

He slipped out of the door. By the time you’d crossed the room he was gone. There were only so many places he’d go from here. The route to his room was one you knew like the back of your hand. You made your way there as fast as you could without running, tears were dangerously close to escaping you.

The sight of him waiting for you when you rounded the corner made you stop in your tracks. It was dimly lit, as always. Books were in every inch of the space, a clear result of his continued pursuit of knowledge. There was clutter everywhere, but you were used to it.

You glanced between him and the room, suddenly feeling the weight of this. The time apart. Him with that woman. It was too much.

He saw you spiraling, this wasn’t like your usual reserved self at all.

“I’m sorry.”

You head shook, not believing him. You couldn’t.

He persisted, closing the gap between you. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. If I could take it back I would.”

You didn’t care about that. He was so dumb. This was so dumb. You…felt so dumb.

“She kissed you.”

“What?”

“Who was that woman? What was that?”

He ran a hand over his face, “Mel. Her name’s Mel.”

“You like her?”

He hadn’t expected you to be this straightforward. The silence that filled the room was enough to make you crumble instantly.

The tears finally came, “I knew it.”

“I- I’m confused, okay? She’s been here when you’re not. She’s consistent.”

“Are you with her…I mean…were you?” The question was the closest you could get your mouth and brain to asking if they’d slept together. You didn’t want to know, truly. You just couldn’t go on if they had.

“Are you serious?”

“I don’t know-“

“Do you really think so little of me?”

“But-“

“Yes, Mel’s present. She’s here. She encourages me.” He contemplates his next sentence in detail. As a man of science he could only assume things based on evidence. He knew that in looking back at your past responses to him, you’d likely run from him—pull away. In some instances, though, variables result in differing results. He wouldn’t let you get away again.

“She gives me attention…but she’s not you.”

“Shut up.”

“Stop. Stop telling me to shut up. You shut up!”

That shocked you, “Jayce!”

“No! We have done this for so long and you never shut up and listen to me. I am standing in front of you…in fact,” he pushed you to sit on the edge of his bed. He knelt to the floor to meet you at eye level. “I am literally on my knees telling you…that I am here…with you.”

You looked at him, surveying the man once again trying his hardest to mend what was broken in you. It wasn’t enough.

“I’m not here for this,” you wiped your tears. “I just don’t wanna be disrespected by you being with someone else.”

Jayce inched away a bit, clearly taken aback. This was what you did, push him away. At any chance you got you’d relented.

“Fine,” he moved to take off his jacket. “This is what you want right?” His pants came off next. “You want me here, for you, and getting nothing in return. I can do that. I’m used to it right?”

[kaminocasey]

Daddy's Home

Summary: Scar comes home late at night to you, after being out with the firelights.

Pairing: Scar x Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Smut. A lot of smut. Rough sex, Scar likes to be called Daddy, unprotected p in v (wrap it up friends), Angst

WC: 2.4K

A/N: Ah, my first Scar fic lol. And the first smut I've written for any Arcane character so please be gentle with me lmao. I love this man so much it's insane, he makes me wanna get his name tattooed on my ass. (Kidding but lmao)

Taglist Form │ Arcane Masterlist │ Scar Playlist

The neon lights travel through the sheer curtains of your bedroom, casting a soft pink glow over everything. You’ve been awake for hours, waiting for Scar to come home to you. The baby is tucked against you, sleeping peacefully, not even realizing her father isn’t home right now. 

You’ve known Scar for years, having become Eva’s babysitter for when Scar would go out with the Firelights, sometimes not coming home until the next morning. It never bothered you before. He was doing what needed to be done. 

But now… it’s harder. His missions with the Firelights were becoming more and more dangerous that sometimes you can’t help but stay up and worry. And now that you two are together, finally, it makes things more difficult for sure.

A few hours later, you’re on the verge of sleep but get woken up by a set of hands scooping Eva up. Instinctively, you grab her and then raise your fist to fight off whoever just grabbed her. You’re not exactly the best fighter, but you’re almost certain you could hold your own in an emergency. 

“Woah, relax, babygirl. It’s just me.” A deep familiar voice chuckles in a hushed tone. 

You sit up, finding Scar taking Eva into her room and then returning a moment later, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“Since when are you ready for a fight?” He teases, starting to strip his clothes.

“Since I became a mother.” You whisper. 

Despite being frustrated, you can’t tear your eyes away from him when he peels his shirt off, dropping it to the floor. He lifts up off the bed momentarily to take off his pants and then slides next to you, pulling you against him. 

His piercing green eyes that always manage to see into your soul meet yours and he sighs softly. “I’m sorry, sweetheart-”

You instantly feel bad, knowing he’s only doing what needs to be done. 

“No, don’t be. I’m sorry. I know what you’re doing is more important in the grand scheme of things.” You murmur, kissing his chest. 

He shakes his head, reaching underneath the hem of your shirt and trailing his sharpened nails lightly up and down your back. “Not more important than you and Eva. If you want me to stop-”

“You can’t. Ekko needs you too much.” You murmur, trailing your own fingers over his chest. “But thank you.”

He sighs, knowing you’re right, and grabs your hand, bringing up to his lips. It’s a silent agreement that you’ll just suck it up until this fight is over. If it’ll ever be over… 

“Did everything go-” You start but he rolls over on top of you, silencing you by crushing his lips to yours. 

Scar’s sudden roughness leads you to believe that maybe he had a close call with death tonight. While you try to push that to the back of your mind, his lips make their way down your neck, his sharp teeth lightly grazing over your skin. You melt as his hands travel down to your hip, gripping tightly.

“Scar-” You whimper softly. 

He lets out a soft growl letting you know he’s got you… that he needs you. He looks down at you for permission and when you nod, he pulls you up quickly so he can pull your t-shirt off. Technically, it’s his but you wear it more than he does. It’s comforting to wear when he’s not around.

Before you can reach up to kiss him, he kisses you first, pushing you back down to the mattress with a slight force and you smirk up at him. 

“Look so pretty like this for me.” He whispers softly as he drags one hand down your chest, palming your breast while the other hand holds you by the hip, keeping you anchored.

You let out a whine, making him smirk as he squeezes with more pressure, dragging a breathless moan from you. 

“So needy for me aren’t you? That’s the real reason you needed me to come home, wasn’t it? Needed me to fill this sweet little pussy, huh?” He’s right there in your ear, licking a stripe up your neck and teasing the lobe of your ear. 

“Fuck… Scar-” You try to roll your hips against him to let him know you need him now. 

“What do you want first? Tongue or cock?” He purrs, rubbing the pad of his thumb over your covered clit making your underwear rub just right to make you gasp.

He starts to pull your underwear down, discarding them to the floor as you wonder why he’s making you decide? He knows how indecisive you are when you’re needy and desperate for him. What happened to the roughness?

You look up at him. “Tongue.”

It comes out like a desperate plea. But you know he doesn’t mind one bit. 

“Tongue it is, sweetheart.” He winks and then rolls over onto his back. “Come have a seat.” 

You let out a breathless laugh and then straddle Scar’s face, eagerly. 

“My favorite view.” Scar murmurs before wrapping his long, strong arms around your thighs and anchoring you down to his face so you can’t go anywhere. 

He licks a long stripe up your already soaked warmth and your hands fly to his hair with a gasp, gripping tightly, making him moan against you. You both live for this kind of intimacy. The kind where you have to be as close as possible when you’re together. Sex doesn’t even have to be involved. 

But it’s always a plus, isn’t it?

His grip on your thighs tightens as he starts to eat you out like a man starved. The moans that leave your lips sound absolutely sinful to your own ears. His lips tighten around your clit, sucking enough that you can feel your release coming a little too soon.

“Fuck daddy…” You whimper. 

He hums roughly and the sound reverberates throughout your entire lower half, making you squirm. You look down at him and he throws you a wink, making you shake your head at him, amused. 

One of his hands leaves your thighs so that he can run it up your stomach and then

grope your breast again. Your hand falls to his, letting him know exactly how to touch you. He doesn’t need it, though. He always just knows how you need him. His grip tightens, making a breathless whimper leave your mouth.

Scar’s tongue slips back down to your entrance, making the grip you have in his hair tighten. You take the moment to reach behind you into his briefs, wrapping your hand around his hardened length. He groans into you and you tighten your grip with a needy gasp. 

“Gods… babygirl… keep going.” He encourages you, letting go of your thigh for only a second while he pulls his briefs down further for you. 

You smirk down at him, stroking him exactly how he likes, deep and slow. He groans again and you give a slight twist, making his hips buck against your hand. 

“Good girl… always know exactly how to handle me, don’t you?” He asks, his voice rough with need. 

Your head falls back as you writhe against his face, continuing to pump his length until you start to feel your edge nearing. 

“Gonna…” You gasp. “Sc-”

“Fuck… do it, baby girl. Come on daddy’s face.” He groans, his grip on your body tightening. 

All you can manage is a high pitched quiet whimper as you get thrown over your edge, your orgasm practically ripped from your body by Scar’s tongue. He doesn’t give you much time to come down from the high of it all before he pulls you off of his face and presses you into the bed, your legs immediately wrapping around his waist. 

“Sorry baby… need to be inside you right now… that okay?” He pleads, and all you have to do is nod before he pushes into you fully. 

He growls as you let out a breathless gasp. Your fingers press into his strong shoulders as he buries himself inside of you, unable to move for a moment. 

“So fucking wet.” He whispers into your neck, licking and biting softly as one hand travels up to the back of your neck and the other tightens on your hip. “All for me, hm, pretty girl?” 

You whimper with a nod, barely able to say anything more. He chuckles, understanding, as he presses a kiss to your jaw. He slowly pulls out, only to push back in just as slow. You pull away to look up into piercing green eyes and he grins as he drags his cock out only to push it in a little rougher, making your lips part as you gasp, clenching around him.

His cock drags in and out repeatedly, the wet sounds between the two of you filling the room sounding like music to both yours and Scar’s ears. 

“Doing so good for me, baby girl. So fucking good.” He kisses your forehead gently. “Gods, I love you.” 

“L-love you…” You whimper, digging your fingers into him even more.

Scar’s lips travel down your jaw to your neck, licking in a way that sends goosebumps down your body. His licks turn into sucking and you can’t help but clench around him, which makes him growl lowly, his grip on you tightening even more. 

“You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you, pretty girl?” He smirks with a darkened look while he grabs you by the chin and forces you to look him in the eyes.

You nod slowly and he glances down at your parted lips. 

“That’s what I thought.” He nods, sitting up, pulling out of you suddenly, making you miss the full feeling he gives you. 

“Wait-” You sit up with him. “I’m-” 

Before you can even finish what you were trying to say, Scar pushes you down onto your front with a growl so that your face is buried in his pillow, forcing you to inhale the smell of him on his pillow. His foresty scent has always been intoxicating to you. 

You moan softly while he trails his sharp nails down your back again, teasing you before placing a swift smack to your ass. You gasp, looking back at him with need in your eyes and then find him smirking down at your naked form. 

“Tell me how much you missed me.” He whispers. 

“I missed you…” You whimper. “So much… I always do.” 

He leans down and places kisses down your spine before he retracts his nails, gripping your hip with one hand while guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance with the other. 

“Scar… please.” You plead. 

He pushes into you without another word. There’s no slowness to it this time as he pushes in fully, burying a soft growl in your neck as he leans over you, pushing you further into the mattress. 

“Fuck, I missed you too, baby.” He whispers. “Couldn’t wait to come home and wrap my arms around you…” 

You can hear the fear in his voice and you know right then that there was in fact a close call with death tonight. 

“Use me…” You whisper, knowing he needs it. 

He tilts his head for a moment before asking if you’re sure.

You nod. “Please.” 

“I won’t be gentle…” He warns you.

“I know.” You’re betting on it. 

He lets out a breathless chuckle, kissing your shoulder. “Tell me to stop if you need me to.” 

You nod, understanding. “I will.”

“Good girl.” He gives your hip a squeeze and sits up on his knees, still buried inside of you. 

As promised, he pulls out and then roughly pushes in with a dangerous growl. His hands move from the safety of your hips to the flesh of your ass, gripping so tightly you know there will be bruises in the morning. And that’s alright. You know he needs this.

He goes almost silent as he slams his hips against you repeatedly. The only sounds in the room are his growls, your whimpers, and the soaked sounds leaving your pussy.

One of his hands leaves your ass to trail up into your hair to grip tightly, pulling your head to the side so he can see your face. You look up at him as best as you can, your mouth open, practically drooling from how good he’s making you feel. 

“Need to fill you…” He grunts, desperately.

You nod with a soft moan, clenching around him. He smirks again and slams against you roughly.

“You love it, don’t you?” He growls. “Being full of my cum.”

“Y-yes… please…” You whimper. 

He groans at the sound and you can tell he’s close by the way his head falls back and his eyes squeeze shut. You know he’s trying to savor the feel of you around him. 

“Cum in me daddy…” Your voice sounds broken, desperate even… 

But it works. His hips stutter and his hand on your hair releases as both hands grip your hips again, squeezing tightly as he falls on top of you, pressing you even more into the mattress. He groans as he paints your walls with himself, filling you as full as he possibly can. 

He holds you there like that for a moment, holding it inside of you and you can’t help but smile. 

“You okay?” You ask, softly, after a moment. 

He nods and then slips out of you, falling to the bed as he pulls you into his arms, kissing your head. “Yeah… I’m alright. Are you?” 

“I’m perfect.” You murmur, kissing his chest. 

“That you definitely are, sweetheart.” He smirks.

“Do you want to talk about what happened while you were gone?” You ask, softly.

“Nah… Just had a close call, is all. Couldn’t wait to come home to you and Eva…” He mumbles, pressing his lips to your hair and holding them there. 

You nod, understanding. “I’m glad you came home to us.”

“Me too.” He nods and then pulls you even tighter against him, needing your comfort.

You wrap your arms around his large frame as much as you can and squeeze. He lets out a content sigh.

“I hope you know I’ll always fight to come home to you.” He tells you in an apologetic tone. You nod. “I know that.”

“I love you…” He whispers, brushing his lips against yours. “More than you could ever know.”

“I love you too.” You whisper back, smiling against his lips. 

A few moments later, he’s asleep in your arms and you don’t even care that you’re in an awkward position. All you care about is that for now, he’s home safe with you. Tags: @moonstrider9904 @justanothersadperson93 @idledreams

[bullet-prooflove]

Wes Mitchell + letter 💌 dancing🕺full moon 🌚

Tagging: @kmc1989 @toasted-stiletto @crusoe2000 @vivekaspencer @fanny-123456

Companion piece to:

Budapest

Zserbo

Wes shouldn’t have left the letter, he realises that as he sits at a table in a club called The Full Moon in Madrid, sipping a coke and surveilling their suspect. The idiot has been dancing with a blonde for the past hour and it’s starting to get pornographic. So much so that even Wes is averting his gaze because his idea of a fun night is not watching a drug dealer fingerfuck a stranger on the dancefloor.

He turns his attention back to his phone, to the message you’d text him earlier today.

Sorry Wes, I think it’s time for you to start looking for your own place.

He pushed you too hard, he thinks, trying to get you on board with the flight team. And this is you pushing back. You think he doesn’t know the extent of your psychological issues but you have no idea how deeply familiar he is with PTSD,  the insidiousness of it. He went through 12 foster homes before he found his forever family, he was seven shades of fucked up long before he hit 18.

The thing is you’re a phenomenal investigator, one of the best he’s worked with. The way you work with victims, it’s almost an art form. You have an appreciation for people, a deep emotional intelligence that you just can’t teach back at the academy and Wes wants that on his team. He wants you to be out in the world using your superpower for good.

And that’s the problem, he’s been thinking about his needs and not about yours. He didn’t consider the fact you might not be ready yet, that you’re still coming to terms with what was the most harrowing case of your career. It’s the reason you left the US, why you took up a teaching position at the International Training Academy.

Recovery takes time, his adopted father had told him one night as they sat together drinking chocolate milk. It was something they always did when Wes woke up from the nightmares. A way of turning something negative into a positive. Everyone has to go at their own pace, you can’t force it.

He needs to remember that in the future, that just because he can’t see the struggle  doesn’t mean that it’s not going on.  

His fingertips hover over the keys. It’s hard for him to find the right words for what he wants to say because this should be an actual conversation, not an exchange of messages through the ether.

I pushed you,  he responds, and I’m sorry for that. I should have been more respectful of your boundaries. If you still want me to move out by the time I get back, consider it done.

He sees the three dots appear and then disappear, then reappear before the message comes through.

We’ll talk when you get back.

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[ronearoundblindly]

I have a request! This can be for your ‘Every Cevans character’ or you can choose specific guys from your fics like Fools Rush in! Steve / Root of All! Ransom etc.. whichever you want :)

What does initiating sex look like for the boys? I’m curious which guys do think initiate sex the most? Or do some only wait for the girl to initiate? I have a feeling Jakey boy waits for his girl initiate most of the time 🤣. Maybe there’s some where it’s 50/50? Curious to know your thoughts.

Yeah, sorry I completely wiffed getting this done yesterday, but here's half of the promised content! I did try to reference most of my other works for multiple story insights...

Warnings for discussion of sex, but nothing explicit.

James Mace

Unfortunately, Mace gets distracted by work, spending tons of time (even when you're together) chasing possibilities down rabbit holes, so sometimes you have to remind him that what you two have is real and, like a living thing, will die without oxygen. In this case, oxygen is affection and attention. He...gets it and then forgets again after a while. Mace doesn't need a hard push by any means, but in total, initiating sex is close to 50-50.

He's not a big romancer, but that doesn't mean Mace can't be deeply romantic. Initiating simply looks like more of a "you feeling it?"-type conversation rather than gentle, building foreplay. That said...Mace, when you too are intimate, is 100% focused on you and your pleasure and connection together. He's a very practical compartmentalizer, meaning he also goes hard on the mission in front of him 😉 ya dig?

Curtis Everett

This boi?? Oh lawd. This boi is the king of that look--the one that hits you like a train from across a busy room that says "let's fuck." Curtis doesn't need words; he just needs you. He absolutely ends up being the main initiator if you count all the looks. However, that doesn't mean you aren't giving him the eyes right back. 😁🤭

Jimmy Dobyne

Ugh. Jimmy waits for signals too much and really only is the initiator when he's very, very horny. In Common Education, since that's a modern AU, he takes the lead just as much as reader, but that is because reader has a position of authority (professor) over him at the beginning. Counter-intuitive? Nah, Jimmy finds that attractive. He's hot for it. See, the thing about Jimmy is he's an average joe. He gets kinda complacent and comfortable in traditional setups, so when his perfect partner pushes back against that boring dynamic, it lights a fire under him. He's intrigued. He's energized. That hint of danger is totally an aphrodisiac. "We shouldn't" are two of the sexiest words to this man.

Johnny Storm

Rarely isn't the initiator. Admit it, you knew that already. He's literally got the hots for you all the time. He's got that spunky energy of youth and cosmic radiation. He's DTF.

Jake Jensen

Okay, y'all know I love our babygirl so, so much, but Jake is oblivious to the idea women have libidos. He kinda thinks he's being a burden with how often he wants to touch you or fool around. It ends up being 50-50 on who initiates because he's s.l.o.w. He makes jokes and blushes and plays it off, and Jake assumes he looks more like a goofy man-child (probably because you've said that, verbatim) who isn't exactly the guy you'd want to jump on. Again, he's an idiot. We love him. Just...good gracious, just fuck him as much as you want. He's cool with it.

Lloyd Hansen

Lloyd is not patient enough to wait for you to initiate and also isn't so great with the word 'no,' even in the innocuous form of 'not now.' He will, at very least, threaten to find other entertainment to guilt you into servicing him. Secretly, he loves this game, a bit of fight, but only in small doses. Pretty much you're one chance to initiate is waking Lloyd up, otherwise it's all him.

Ari Levinson

Ari enjoys closeness. He mostly wants to be wrapped around you on the couch after long days at work which leads to who-knows-who started it sex, and with a little luck, a snack, and a hydration break, leads to a who-knows-who-started-it Round 2. He's pretty good at initiation but must be told to wait during those times you need either a different kind of closeness or some alone time.

This is only slightly different from Bedrock & Blueprints!Ari since having a decade of non-romantic experience with you, he doesn't always default to being that close to you. Not in a bad way--Ari is simply used to respecting your space, talking, and listening to you. All that 'baggage' actually helps you two have a deeper, longer-lasting relationship because it's more than just-physical for Ari.

Ransom Drysdale

Ran is a moody son-of-a-bitch and sex improves his mood. It's 50-50 since depending on whether he tries or you try to improve his mood. Ransom's not the most observant dude (putting it mildly), so he doesn't usually notice your mood behaves the same way. If you need some loving, it's then 100% on you to ask, let him know, or jump on that. This applies to...every single version of Ransom I can imagine, so this is RoAR, too.

Andy Barber

Busy. He gets tired. Andy will run himself ragged before remembering that he could have you join him in that essential-shower after a long day. He has bursts of horniness once big cases are finished or vacation energy once you two finally get away. While Andy is deep in work, it's all on you to initiate. If he's less busy/stressed, he will be the best, most playful, most attentive man, but Andy compartmentalizes his life. He can't focus on two aspects of his life fully at the same time.

Steve Rogers

Generally, I totally see Steve as being passive when it comes to initiating sex, but once I broke down the series I've written him in, that guy surprised me.

FRI--For the longest time, obviously, Steve was not the initiator in pretty much any way (couple of kisses, sure, but eh, that's about it), so he has to grow into a 50-50 split. There's a natural ebb and flow between Sketch & Keeps--sometimes it's more you, sometimes it's more him.

Hideout--Steve sure as shit wants you, but all the initiating and encouraging is you for a while. He rarely isn't in the mood when you hint at sex (or any variation of touch, etc). He takes less and less convincing to let go as you two get to know each other. Once he's gained the confidence, Steve initiating is a hott treat, let me just say...

IHTBY--Ummm, it's mostly Steve. Bit of a horndog, this one, and he's highly aware of the previous taboo of you working for him for most of your relationship. He checks in a lot, makes sure you're comfortable and not feeling pressured, and then takes over to show his devotion to you as a woman. Steve is intensely committed to appreciating your independence; he feels lucky (and turned on) knowing you choose to be with him.

Threadbare--Steve enjoys starting intimacy with Button because he often watches her handle lots of tools, paper, fabric, and other people (professionally), which gives him *ideas.* He likes to be the subject of your artistic attentions ☺️

Autumn Is Healing--Steve is the initiator most of the time actually. It began that way because he wanted to show you soft affection, but...he also really likes you (and escalation happens). He starts with very gentle touch, like running his fingertips down your arm.

So...I guess perhaps I was wrong about it being on you to start something...

Bucky Barnes

Cautious. Nowadays, Bucky likes to know the answer to a question before he asks, so he does wait for certain signs from you. He doesn't need overt signals, though, because Buck can sense every subtle change when he pays attention (there's something to be said for his comfort is *turning off* this gift around you as well btw): warmer skin, picked up heart rate, clamping and rubbing your thighs together. All that is to say that he absolutely knows if you're in a mood before making his move on you, and the only times when you technically get to initiate is if you legit pounce on him the instant he returns from a mission.

Thank you for asking!

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