#still working up to the climbing back out bit

[witherby]

hello! great work so far :-) im getting into batfam myself and been loving the platonic/familial works you do w littlest wayne! was wondering if you'd ever do an teen y/n or just an older one? I'd love to see you tackle the idea of a robin y/n or jaybe just some angsty kid stuff,,,,,, hope you had a good new years!

-- :33Anon

I love angst with my whole heart and soul, and I'm happy to write it with a slightly older Reader. Hope you don't mind I've commandeered your prompt to showcase the ability you guys voted on.

This one's a long read so I'm splitting it up. This part is roughly 2400+ words.

The Littlest Wayne: Uncertain Home

(Part 1/2)

Masterlist is Here!

Uncle J'onn is looking at you curiously.

He's been doing that a lot, lately. When Daddy brings you to the Watchtower to be babysat so he can go save the world, one of his co-workers that they can afford to spare gets put in charge of keeping an eye on you. Usually it's Uncle Hal, but this time it's J'onn and he's in his natural form, which you don't mind. Green is your favorite color, and his whole body is green! He's nice and calm, and tells you lots of stories and plays any game you want, even if it's hard for him not to cheat and read your mind. He says it's instinct. You don't hold it against him because you still have fun.

Lately, though, when he talks to you, he tilts his head a bit. He usually does that when he can't understand something.

You wipe your face, checking for cookie crumbs. All clean. You search your shirt for any weird marks or stains. All clean. You scrunch your nose and puff out your cheeks, pouting.

"What's wrong, uncle J'onny?" You ask him. Daddy says the way to get honest answers from someone is just to be forthcoming (Dicky told you what forthcoming meant when you asked him later), so you are. "Did I do something wrong?"

That seems to snap his train of thought. J'onn shakes his head and goes back to sorting out the jigsaw puzzle pieces for you. You're good enough at this to do 100-piece puzzles, now, and when you get really stuck you don't even cry anymore!

"Nothing is wrong, Flittermouse," he says, watching you start putting the edges together first like Dami taught you. "You are simply...changing. Differences are not inherently wrong."

"What's inherably mean?"

"Inherently. It means instinctively, or something that is "set in stone." A rule that does not change. I am stating that change is not something that is always wrong. It's not a firm rule."

You pout and try to process all of that in your brain. It was a partial answer. Daddy says that means people might want to hide something from you.

"What's changing?" You ask him. "I got older a week ago. Is that what you mean? I'm four, now. Grandpappy says I'm getting so big and growed up. He says to not do that so fast. I dunno how, though. He's silly."

J'onn hums. His eyes look away from you as he considers what to say. You put one whole edge together before he speaks again.

"You know that I am not a human, correct?"

"Yeah, I know," you say. "I don't care. I love you. And auntie Diana. And uncle Clark. And uncle Barry. And —"

"Thank you," J'onn gently interrupts. "Do you also know that, sometimes, humans are born not entirely human? That sometimes they get special abilities?"

"Yeah, I know that," you repeat.

"I suspect that —" he cuts himself off, hesitates, then starts again. "Little one. You are showing signs of being one of those humans with special abilities."

"I am?" You ask. You perk up. "Can I fly?!"

You immediately abandon the puzzle and climb onto your chair, about to jump off of it to try and fly around, but J'onn catches you by the back of your shirt before you can hit the ground.

"You cannot."

"Aww...then I don't wanna be a megahuman," you complain, stomping your foot.

"Metahuman."

"Whatever."

"I am sorry," J'onn says, "I did not mean to upset you. I do think you are developing powers, however."

"Not fly powers?" You frown.

"No, not flight powers."

"Boring," you say, blowing raspberries. J'onn cracks a smile at your antics and you giggle. "Help me do the puzzle, please!"

"Alright," he relents, sorting more pieces for you. You're both quiet for a while, and you get the whole frame done before he speaks again.

"Little one. Do you know your father's rule about metahumans?"

"Yeah," you say, grinning, because you're a great listener. You pitch your voice down and make it scratchy. It's adorable in your four-year-old tone. "No metas in Gotham. I am Nighttime. Raaahhh."

J'onn huffs in amusement. "Right. He usually means what he says, does he not?"

"Yeah," you agree, "daddy is a bad liar. He lied and said he didn't eated the last cookie once, but he did eated it. Alfie was mad, 'cause it was for Dami, but Dami didn't care. He likes brownies more than cookies. I like brownies, too."

"I figured," J'onn says. He's not looking at you again. This time he's frowning.

"Do you want brownies?" You ask, figuring that was the issue. "I don't have any. I can ask for some when Daddy comes back. I'm good at sharing, 'cause I'm a good noodle, like Jay says."

"No, but thank you for offering to share. Jason is right, you are a good noodle."

You preen. "I know!"

J'onn drops the subject again and helps you complete the puzzle. You squint at every piece in concentration and politely ask him if he can dim the lights so you can work better. He complies, and after another hour and a half, you have a completed image on the table.

"Yay! We did it!"

The sounds of chatter and footsteps appear down the hall moments later, and you spring to your feet in delight.

"Hello!!!" You shout.

A chorus of "hello!" greets you in return from multiple heroes, and the rest of the Justice League files into the room one by one. They don't look too roughed up, so the mission wasn't very dangerous. That's good. You stand by the door and offer them hugs. Everyone complies, to your endless delight.

"Daddy!" You cheer when you see him, running and hugging Batman's legs. He scoops you into his arms and you grin and point at the table. "Uncle J'onny and I dided a whole puzzle! I didn't give up!"

"Good job, Mouse," Bruce says, reaching out to adjust the light. "You did it in the dark?"

"Yeah," you grin, kicking your feet. "Did you punch bad guys?"

"I did."

"Did you win?"

"Yes."

"Can we have ice cream?"

"Maybe after dinner." He carries you down the hall and towards his temporary quarters, the place he'll stay after a particularly tough mission when he can't make it home right away, and deposits you gently on the bed. "I have to debrief with everyone, and then we can pack up and go home."

"Okay, daddy," you say, already digging through the nightstand for a toy to play with. "I stay right here!"

"Good job," he says again, kissing the top of your head, and leaves you alone with a small wave.

--

The next time you need to be at the Watchtower, it's with Uncle Clark and Auntie Diana. The mission wasn't a super dangerous one, so they both got to stay behind and entertain you.

Today, you're a cashier at your world-famous grocery store. You have the best ingredients all over the world.

"Welcome to the groshy store, what do you want stranger?" You demand, getting into character. Clark looks mildly offended.

"Whoa, hello. That's a lot of 'tude for a paying customer," he says.

"You didn't buy nothing yet! Whataya want!"

"Uh. Some carrots please."

"All out."

Clark narrows his eyes at you. "Can you check in the back?"

You turn around. You turn back.

"All out. Whataya want!"

"You barely looked!" He insists.

"FRESH OUTTA CARROTS, BUB. WHATAYA WANT."

"Oh my goodness, now there's yelling. I think I need to speak to a manager."

"Okay!" You shuffle across the room and grab Diana's hand, leading her back to Clark. "This is the manager. Auntie, tell him all the carrots are gone. He can't have any."

Diana covers her mouth to stifle her laughter. "You heard them, stranger. There are no carrots here."

"Well, aside from the blatant nepotism, auntie, I think you're hiding the carrots from me," Clark huffs, crossing his arms. "I need them for my soup. Guess I'll go to the grocery store across town. I hear they're nicer."

"No," you gasp, "wait. Okay maybe I have one secret carrot. I go get it."

You leave their giggling forms and run over to the toy box that was set up for you on the watch tower, thrusting your hands inside to dig around. You squint your eyes, but all the bright colors are hard to distinguish properly. In the dark spaces, deeper into the box, is where you cast your focus. Instinctively, you follow the trail and close your hand around a plastic carrot. You lift your hand triumphantly.

"Okay, got it!" You cry, only to startle when you find both Clark and Diana kneeling beside your toy chest. Diana picks you up around the waist and takes several steps back, and Clark's eyes turn that funny shade of blue they do when he's using x-ray vision. "Umm, I gotted the carrot already. It's in my hand."

"Are you injured?" Diana asks you, expression deadly serious. You frown and shake your head. "You're certain? I could sense something in that box with you."

"No, I'm fine," you promise. Clark stands up and his eyes go back to normal. He shrugs, brows furrowed.

"There's nothing in there but toys."

"Yeah," you nod, "toys and dark spots."

Both heroes look at you. You squirm in Diana's hold shyly.

"Um, want to pay for the carrot?" You ask, holding it up. "It's only ten dollars. Orrr one lollipop." You whisper conspiratorially. "I can be bribed."

Diana and Clark exchange glances. Clark gingerly takes the carrot from you and puts it back in the toy box.

"Sold. Let's go to the kitchen and pick out which flavor you want."

You grin, forgetting about the game, and Diana puts you on the ground so you can follow excitedly after them. With a couple "pretty please's" and your lethal puppy dog eyes, you even manage to get two lollipops. You ask to be hoisted onto the counter so you can swing your feet as you enjoy the candy, and both heroes perch on either side of you.

It's quiet for a while. It feels like that weird, anticipatory quiet you felt with Uncle J'onny, but you don't know what for, so you wait for one of them to speak. You finish off one whole sucker and open the second one when it happens.

"Mouse?" Clark eventually asks, "can you explain what you meant about your toys? That there are dark spots in there?"

"Yeah," you say, "shadows. Dark spots. Light not touching."

"And you can...feel shadows?"

You hum, thinking it over. "Um...yes. Kind of."

Clark and Diana look at each other again. They're frowning. You frown.

"Can you tell us what you mean by that?" She asks.

"Um. I wanted the carrot, for uncle Clark," you say, "so he can buy it at my groshy store. And the dark spots showed me where it was, and I grabbed it."

"Did they also help you complete the jigsaw puzzle, when you were with J'onn?" Diana asks. "It was quite dark when we got back." You nod.

"Yeah. Easier to do in the dark. It's not cheating!" You blurt. "I didn't cheated!"

"Okay, ya' didn't cheat," Clark agrees, gently patting your back. There's a slight drawl in his words which usually shows up when he's stressed out. "We're just curious, is all, darlin'. Seems you've got a... A special talent, we can call it."

"It's a power. They're a metahuman, Kal," Diana says simply, "and you know Bruce's rule."

The rule? Which one? Always brushing your teeth before bedtime? Or maybe no sweets until you finish your dinner? Hmm, but you haven't had dinner yet. That doesn't make sense.

"No metas in Gotham. I'm very aware, Diana."

"Then you see the problem."

Oh. Now you think you know why uncle J'onny was upset that day.

"Now wait a minute," Clark says. He looks genuinely angry, which confuses you. Did they not like that you could ask the dark for help? They had superpowers, too. You figured they would be happy. "They're his kid."

You are. You're Daddy's little Flittermouse, scampering around and bringing joy. That's what everyone tells you. They love you.

"You've seen how hard he works to keep us out of Gotham," Diana says. "We can be trusted to babysit, but we can't enter the city? What does that tell you?"

"That's different. He's territorial, we all know that. He's not a monster, Diana. He would never hurt them —"

"I'm not saying he is. I'm not saying he would. But I am saying that he doesn't bend his own rules. He does not make exceptions."

Oh.

You sit almost numbly on the counter and watch Clark and Diana start to argue over your place in Gotham. Over your place at home.

You think about Daddy's rule about no metas in Gotham. You think about your new ability to interact with shadows.

Oh.

The lollipop tastes like ash on your tongue and the tips of your fingers feel like tv static. When you blink, your eyes sting as they well up with tears. You've been so good about not throwing fits, about not being a crybaby, about being as strong as your super cool daddy and brothers and grandpa.

But you can't call them that anymore, can you? They don't want metas in Gotham, and that's what you are, now. You can't live with your family anymore.

Large, fat tears roll down your cheeks and your bottom lip wobbles. You whimper and both Diana and Clark whip their heads around to look at you in shock.

"No, oh no, don't cry," Diana coos, "you don't need to worry. Your father isn't —"

You bat her hands away when she reaches for you and jump off the counter, running underneath Clark's cape. They don't catch on to what you're doing in time.

Clark practically rips it off and fans it on the floor, floating above it with wide eyes. Diana kneels next to the fabric and frantically pats it, searching for you.

But there's nothing. You've fled into the shadow Clark's body cast and allowed the darkness to swallow you.

[woozinhos]

was thinking bout car sex and the scene continues to their room and they had mirror sex with wonwoo 🤯🔥🥵🥵🥵

I’ll say this now you’ll want to read this fic I’m proud of this one 🤭

Watch yourself baby

You and Wonwoo have been making out heavily in the car, unable to keep your hands off each other. The windows are fogged up and the air is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing. Wonwoo pulls back from the kiss, his eyes dark with desire. "I need you," he growls, his voice rough with need. "Now."

You nod, already feeling aroused from the makeout session. Wonwoo quickly gets out of the car and comes around to your side, opening the door and pulling you out. He presses you up against the side of the car, his body pinning you against the cool metal.

"I've been thinking about this all day," he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. "I can't wait any longer."

Wonwoo opens the back door and practically throws you inside, climbing in after you and shutting the door behind him. He immediately pulls you onto his lap, his hands roaming all over your body as he kisses you hungrily.

"You have no idea how bad I want you," he growls, his lips moving down to your neck again. "I need to taste you. Right now."

Wonwoo's hands roam lower, sliding under your skirt and up your thighs. He groans as he feels your skin against his fingers, his desire growing with each passing moment.

"God, you're so sexy," he mutters, his lips leaving a trail of kisses along your collarbone. "I could just eat you up."

Wonwoo's fingers reach the edge of your underwear, and he hooks them into the fabric, slowly pulling them down your legs. His eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you, his breath catching in his throat.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, his voice filled with awe. "And all mine."

Wonwoo's fingers move to your core, gently tracing the outline of your folds. He looks up at you, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly begins to tease you.

"You're already so wet for me," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "I can feel how much you want me."

Wonwoo gently pushes you down onto the seat, his hands on your hips as he positions himself between your legs. He looks up at you, his eyes burning with desire, before lowering his head to your core. His tongue flicks out, teasing you gently at first, before he begins to devour you in earnest. He licks and sucks and nibbles, his tongue moving in a way that drives you wild. Wonwoo hooks your leg over his shoulder, pulling you closer to him as he continues to eat you out. His hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as he works his magic.

He looks up at you from between your legs, his eyes burning with intensity as he watches your reactions. "You taste so good," he murmurs, his voice muffled against your skin. "I could do this all day."

Wonwoo increases the pressure of his tongue, focusing his attention on your clit. He knows just how to work you, knowing exactly what makes you moan and writhe in pleasure. He can feel you getting closer to the edge, your body tensing beneath him as you approach your release. He looks up at you again, his eyes locking with yours.

"Come for me, baby," he whispers, his voice low and seductive. "I want to taste every drop of you."

You can't hold back any longer, your body trembling as you come undone under Wonwoo's skilled tongue. He groans in satisfaction as he feels you come, lapping up every last bit of your release. He finally pulls away, looking up at you with a smug smile on his face. "You taste even better when you come," he says, his voice husky with desire. Wonwoo crawls back up your body, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips, and it only makes you want him more.

He pulls back from the kiss, looking down at you with a hungry gaze. "I'm not done with you yet," he growls, his hands roaming all over your body again. "I need more of you."

Wonwoo gently helps you out of the car, his hands still roaming over your body as he leads you to the front door. He opens the door and ushers you inside, following closely behind. As soon as the door closes behind you, he pins you against the wall, his body pressed up against yours.

"I can't wait to take you to bed," he whispers in your ear, his hands already working to remove your clothes.

Wonwoo picks you up effortlessly, carrying you to the bedroom as he slaps your ass playfully. He lays you down on the bed, crawling on top of you and caging you in with his body.

"You're mine tonight," he growls, his eyes dark with desire. "And I'm going to make sure you know it."

Wonwoo smirks down at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I have an idea," he says, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "But you have to trust me." You look up at him, curiosity and excitement mixing in your gaze. "What is it?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. Wonwoo grabs the full-length mirror and props it up against the wall, positioning it so that you can see yourself lying on the bed. He steps back and looks at you with a wicked grin.

"Come here," he says, his voice low and commanding. "I want you to watch yourself while I make you scream."

Wonwoo climbs back onto the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he moves to position himself between your legs. He pushes your legs apart, spreading you open for his viewing pleasure.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his eyes roaming

over your body in the mirror. "You're so beautiful. So ready for me."

Wonwoo quickly flips you over onto your hands and knees, positioning you so that you're facing the mirror. He stands behind you, his eyes raking over your body in the reflection.

"Look at yourself," he commands, his voice low and rough. "Look at how perfect you are. How beautiful."

You can't help but look at yourself in the mirror, your eyes locking with your own as you take in the sight of your body from this angle. Wonwoo moves behind you, his hands tracing a path down your spine and over the curve of your ass.

"You're so sexy like this," he growls, his hands gripping your hips. "All spread out and ready for me. I could look at you like this all day."

Wonwoo grins as he watches your reaction in the mirror, enjoying the way you shiver at the contact. He slaps his dick against your pussy again, this time harder, and leans down to whisper in your ear.

"Do you like that, baby? Do you like feeling how hard I am for you?"

"Watch the mirror," Wonwoo repeats, his voice commanding. "I want you to see every expression on your face as I take you. I want you to see how beautiful you look when you come undone for me."

Wonwoo positions himself at your entrance, teasing you with the tip of his cock. He looks at you in the mirror, his eyes burning with desire.

"You're going to watch me take you," he says, his voice low and seductive. "And you're going to keep your eyes on the mirror until I tell you to stop."

Wonwoo thrusts into you in one smooth motion, filling you completely. He lets out a low groan as he bottoms out, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

"God, you feel so good," he growls, his eyes locked on yours in the mirror. "You're so tight around me."

Wonwoo grabs a handful of your hair, pulling your head back as he starts to thrust harder. He watches your face in the mirror, relishing in the expressions of pleasure that cross your features.

"Look at you," he says, his voice rough with lust. "You're so desperate for me. So needy."

Wonwoo continues to thrust into you, his movements becoming more and more forceful as he loses himself in the moment. He keeps a tight grip on your hair, using it to pull your head back so that you can see yourself in the mirror.

"You're mine," he growls, his eyes never leaving yours. "You belong to me. No one else can make you feel like this."

Wonwoo leans down, his chest pressed against your back as he continues to thrust into you. He whispers in your ear, his voice low and possessive.

"You're mine to do with as I please," he says, his breath hot against your skin. "And I'm going to use you until you can't take it anymore."

You watch yourself in the mirror, your eyes glued to the image of your body being taken by Wonwoo. You can see the pleasure etched on your face, the way your body responds to his every movement. Wonwoo watches you as well, his eyes flicking between your face in the mirror and the way your body moves beneath him. He can see the effect he's having on you, and it only spurs him on further. Wonwoo grabs your ass, using it for leverage as he picks up the pace of his thrusts. He squeezes the flesh in his hands, enjoying the way it feels beneath his fingers.

"Your ass is perfect," he growls, his voice strained with exertion. "I could play with it all day."

Wonwoo continues to thrust into you, his hands roaming over your body as he takes you from behind. He slaps your ass again, the sound echoing through the room.

"You like it when I'm rough with you, don't you?" he asks, his voice rough with desire. "You love feeling my hands on you, marking you as mine."

Wonwoo continues to thrust into you, his hands roaming over your body as he takes you from behind. He slaps your ass again, the sound echoing through the room.

"You like it when I'm rough with you, don't you?" he asks, his voice rough with desire. "You love feeling my hands on you, marking you as mine."

“God Wonwoo I’m gonna cum please!” You cry.

Wonwoo grins as he hears your words, his thrusts becoming even more intense.

"Good girl," he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "I want you to come for me. I want to feel you tighten around my cock."

Wonwoo watches in the mirror as you come, a satisfied smirk on his face. He slows his movements, letting you ride out your orgasm before he continues.

"That's it," he says, his voice low and possessive. "Let go for me, baby. I want to see you fall apart."

Wonwoo continues to move inside you, his pace slower now but no less intense. He can feel you trembling beneath him, still sensitive from your orgasm.

"You're so beautiful when you come," he murmurs, his hands tracing a path down your spine. "But I'm not done with you yet."

Wonwoo flexes his muscles, his body tensing as he gets closer to his own release. He watches himself in the mirror, enjoying the way his muscles ripple beneath his skin. He thrusts harder, his movements becoming more and more erratic as he nears the edge. He grips your hips tightly, using you to anchor himself as he chases his release. Wonwoo's breathing becomes ragged as he continues to thrust into you, his eyes locked on your reflection in the mirror. He can feel his orgasm building, a wave of pleasure threatening to crash over him at any moment.

"I'm close," he grunts, his voice rough with need. "I'm so close, baby."

Wonwoo pulls your hair back, arching your neck and exposing it to him. He leans down, his lips trailing a path down your skin as he continues to thrust into you.

"I'm going to come," he growls, his breath hot against your ear. "I'm going to fill you up."

You watch as Wonwoo comes undone, his body tensing and his eyes squeezing shut as he reaches his climax. He lets out a deep, guttural groan, his hips stuttering against yours as he spills himself inside you. He collapses against your back, his body spent and shaking with pleasure. He pants heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggles to catch his breath. Wonwoo smiles at you, his eyes still dark with desire even after his orgasm. He reaches up to brush a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers trailing over your skin.

"You're even more beautiful when you're all sweaty," he says, his voice rough. "I could get used to seeing you like this."

[yelenaslyubov]

A Sleepy Start

main masterlist || yelena belova || requests

a/n: sorry i took a little hiatus🙈between the holidays and work i found myself a little bit burnt out, but im here with this spicy story for you and i hope you enjoy it! i’ve also been working on a holiday/winter story that i still plan to post to be on the lookout for that

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ pairing: yelena belova x female reader

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ warnings: MINORS DNI (18+) smut- reader receiving & being a massive bottom, basically porn with no plot, dubcon, daddy kink, dirty talk, begging, fingering, cunnilingus, strap on, spanking, nipple play

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ description: yelena has been away on a mission for a couple days and you have found yourself crawling into bed late at night. when yelena returns, she finds it hard to wake you up and decides to wake you up in a new way

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ word count: 1.9k

You had never been a morning person. Never was and never would be. The only person that could possibly get you out of bed was Yelena. On this day in particular, not even she could pull you out of bed.

You had an exciting night out several hours prior and did not find yourself crawling into bed until the wee hours of the morning. Yelena had been gone on a mission for the past couple days so you assumed she wouldn’t be back for a while. You were surprisingly mistaken.

The sun was shining bright and hot along your bare back, an indication that it was late morning or early afternoon. You felt hands tugging at you, pulling you out of a deep sleep.

“Come on,” a voice whined. “Why won’t you get up!” You groaned in response and tried to turn over the opposite way.

“Pleaseee,” Yelena begged. “I haven’t seen you in forever… well more like two days but still.”

She tugged and pulled but you wouldn’t budge. The more she messed with you the more your body was revealed from under the sheets. Yelena intensely observed you laying on your stomach, taking in each detail such as your messy hair and sunlit skin.

An idea popped into Yelena's head that might get you out of bed, or at least to gain consciousness and join the world again.

“Y/n,” she said in a singing voice, “time to wake up.”

Yelena came down closer to your body and whispered in your ear. “Wake up or else I’m going to do it for you.”

You inhaled and exhaled deeply and sighed. You weren’t quite awake enough to move but you had gained enough consciousness to hear Yelena now. You were now more interested in where she was heading with this.

Yelena took her jacket off until she was left in a white tank top and pants. Gently she climbed on the bed and straddled your mid section.

She ran her short nails down your back, leaving red streaks in their place. The slight pain caused you to shift a little in your place. Definitely not enough to wake you up, so Yelena continued.

Her lips then made contact with your skin. She left several kisses up and down your spine, then traveled over to other soft places to call her own.

She latched onto a soft spot near your shoulder blade and sucked. She left dark purple and red spots all over your back. By this point, you were waking up. You started to feel the result of Yelena’s pleasure growing as you slowly woke up.

Despite all of Yelena’s efforts, you still did not budge. This wasn’t necessarily because you were asleep, this now turned into a game for you to see what all Yelena would do to you. There had always been a part of you that wanted to test out the water in this department and you felt like now was the perfect time.

You couldn’t tell her how desperately you wanted her because you wanted her to show how bad she wanted you. You loved when Yelena showed how much she needed every square inch of you. So, you decided to watch it play out.

Touching all over your skin did not seem to suit her just yet, so she decided to move to more sensitive parts of you to try and do the trick.

Yelena pulled down the sheet that was covering your hips and legs. You were in your usual position of slumber where you laid on your stomach with one of your legs bent to the side of you. This gave Yelena the perfect view of what she wanted most.

“Fuck,” she whispered under her breath. “I’ve missed you.”

She gripped onto your hips, squeezing them out of desperation. There was nothing more that she wanted to do than show you who you belonged to.

Yelena backed up on the bed and sat between your legs while observing your quiet frame. There was something so erotic about seeing you completely at her mercy, even if Yelena didn’t know you were enjoying every second of her touch.

“Your pretty pussy is so wet for me,” Yelena whispered before eagerly touching you where she wanted most.

She separated your folds like the pages of a book with her fingers, so gently taking in how wet she had already made you. Her fingers made quick work of circling your clit in a slow rhythm that made you silently beg for more.

All she wanted was for you to respond to her pleads of desire. The more that Yelena touched you the more aroused you become, moving your hips slightly as a form of relief.

Yelena smiled. “There’s my girl, good job.”

She kept going at the same pace. You knew Yelena well enough that this meant she was only beginning. If she had sped up then you knew that she just wanted to have all the fun with your pussy until you came however many times pleased her.

You moaned lazily and shifted in your position. “I know you’re waking up, sweet girl,” Yelena said. “I want you closer to me. I need to taste you.”

Yelena grabbed onto your hips firmly and pulled you up. You whined in protest as you were being moved.

“Don’t whine, you know you want it,” she said. “Let me play with you more baby.”

You were now propped up on your knees while your front section arched against the bed, leaving you in a doggy type position.

It didn’t take Yelena long to touch you again. Her hands were placed on your ass while her mouth latched onto your clit, causing you to whine.

“What is it? Is my girl starting to wake up?”

You were awake long ago and now you were enjoying everything that Yelena was doing. You hadn’t realized how much you missed her until your body reacted in such ways you didn’t know.

“Keep going baby, Daddy wants to hear you.”

Her tongue flattened out and ran up and down your cunt so perfectly. Just the thought of watching Yelena torture you was enough as it was.

You moaned long and desperately at her effect on you. You couldn’t help but move your hips for any kind of additional touch you could get.

“My poor needy girl,” Yelena tutted. “I see you moving your hips so good for me.”

You whined as Yelena moved her tongue around your pussy, exploring each part and savoring every taste. Her tongue poked at your entrance and you moved your hips back towards her abruptly.

You had waited around long enough, which is why you decided to finally speak up. “More,” you said, which was muffled by the bed.

“What was that?” she said. “I need you to be louder for me.”

“More,” you whined.

“You want more, sweet girl?”

“Please,” you begged, no longer caring if you were being desperate. All you wanted was more of her everywhere.

“I think I can do that for you… wait here, love.”

Yelena left the room for a couple minutes while you waited on the bed. You had turned your head towards the door so you could see her coming. When she came back, she had shed her pants in the process in exchange for the spandex harness with your favorite attachment waiting for you. Yelena’s short hair was messy and you could see her hardened nipples through her shirt, making you release a small string of profanities.

She came back just as she started; creeping over you with her mouth dragging down your spine while you readjusted to sit up on your elbows.

“Good morning,” Yelena whispered in your ear. “I hope I didn’t disturb you too much.”

“Not a bit,” you whispered back.

As Yelena nibbled back down on your back, you could feel her strap brushing occasionally against your pussy. Each time it made contact, you wanted to scream with pleasure but you held your tongue until it was appropriate. You didn’t want Yelena to have too much fun.

“You’re so fucking hot, you know that?” Yelena’s warm breath like fire against your skin. “I couldn’t wait to come home and fuck you like this. That's all I could think about.”

Yelena’s words of desire made yours grow exponentially, if that was even possible. Your hips practically exposed your own desire for Yelena, moving more every minute that she teased you.

“You’ve waited so good, angel. Do you want me?” she asked. All she wanted was to get a rise out of you, which was working.

“I want you so bad, please baby,” you begged. Though it was usually below you on regular occasion, begging seemed to fit in with your pathetic state at the moment.

Without another word, Yelena used your hips as a guide and slid her strap into you. It was a flood of arousal that greeted you now, eliciting a string of gasps and moans.

“Fuck, detka,” Yelena whined. You never understood how Yelena’s mother language turned you on so much.

Yelena’s hips moved against you, ricocheting your own hips back into hers. You were overcome by her touch as a result of all of the fun she was having.

“Please keep going,” you whined, moving your hips frantically to enhance your experience. As you moved them, Yelena’s hand spanked the side of your ass, causing you to wince.

“You let me do all the work, baby girl,” she said. “You just sit back and let me play with you.”

The bedroom now echoed of skin on skin contact and your horny pleads. Yelena knew how to bring out the best in you and the most lustful version of you.

Yelena’s hand traveled up your back and snaked to your chest where she leaned down far enough to take your nipple between her fingers. She rolled and pulled on your sensitive nipple which increased your high, arousal pooling around the strap buried deep inside you.

You were getting closer by the second and Yelena could tell. It was obvious in the way that your movements became more rigid and choppy, barely able to form fluid motion.

“Mm, does my poor girl want to cum?” Yelena taunted you and you nodded in reply, barely able to form a clear thought. “I can’t hear you.”

“Yes,” you managed to choke out. “Please, Lena. I wanna cum so bad, let me cum please.”

To finish you off, Yelena’s hand moved in between your legs while still moving her strap in and out of your pussy roughly. Her fingers made contact with your now swollen clit in order to make you unfold beneath her. It didn't take long between Yelena’s whispering orders to you, her relentless strap, and her fast pace fingers.

She had a hard time wanting to stop. She was having way too much fun having her way with you that she found herself stuck in a trance. Her fingers still on your perfect pussy made your body twitch and convulse. You finally pried her fingers away after taking all you could.

You fell into a heap on the bed, your body like jelly. Yelena kissed you more gently this time, almost as an apology for the overstimulation she might’ve caused, even if you loved every second.

“Are you alright?” Yelena asked. Your chest was rising and falling quickly as you tried to catch your breath, but you managed to slightly speak to Yelena with a giggle.

“I’m up.”

.

.

.

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[thollandsgirl2013]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐥

Parings → Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings → fluff, awkwardness, new relationship

Summary → Peter walks in on you sleeping in a towel.

Peter was excited, practically bouncing on his feet as he approached your house. The two of you had been dating for a month now, and he loved surprising you whenever he could. You worked long shifts at the café and were always tired when you got home. He figured surprising you today, spending time with you and Maybe if possible, having dinner together, would be a great way to relax.

Your mom opened the door, smiling when she saw him. "Peter! What a surprise. Come on in."

"Hey, Mrs. Y/L/N. Is Y/n home?" Peter asked, stepping inside and rubbing his palms together nervously.

"She just got home not too long ago. She's in her room, probably resting. Why don’t you stay for dinner?"

Peter grinned. "Thanks! I’d love to."

Your mom chuckled at his eagerness. "Go on up and say hi to her. Just knock first, you know how Y/n can be after work."

Peter nodded, making his way to your room. As he climbed the stairs, he felt that familiar nervous energy bubble up in his stomach. It was still new—this whole relationship thing with you. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was, but that didn’t stop him from feeling jittery around you sometimes.

When he reached your bedroom door, he knocked softly. "Y/n? It’s me, Peter."

Silence.

He knocked again, a little louder. "Y/n? You there?"

Still no response. He furrowed his brow, listening closely, and then decided to quietly open the door. Maybe you fell asleep. As he stepped inside, he froze, his eyes widening at the sight before him.

There you were, lying across your bed, indeed fast asleep, but wrapped in nothing but just a towel. Your damp hair spilled over your pillow, and your cheek was squished against the fabric, giving you that adorable post-nap look. Peter's heart skipped a beat, and not just because you looked so beautiful. He immediately felt awkward, his cheeks flushing bright red.

“Oh… oh no," he whispered to himself, quickly shutting the door behind him. He looked away, trying to figure out what to do. Should he wake you? Leave? He didn’t want to make things awkward, but the last thing he wanted was for you to wake up and freak out because he saw you like this.

Peter bit his lip, staring at the floor. "Okay, uh… just breathe, Parker. It’s fine. It’s totally fine."

He approached the bed cautiously, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. You looked so peaceful, your chest rising and falling gently as you slept. Part of him wanted to let you rest—you worked so hard all the time—but the other part was panicking because, well, towel.

"Y/n… Y/n?" He whispered your name softly, hoping you’d wake up without too much of a start. He lightly touched your shoulder, and that seemed to do the trick. You stirred, letting out a soft groan as your eyes fluttered open.

"Mmm… Peter?" You mumbled, still half-asleep.

"Uh, yeah. Hey," Peter said, his voice slightly strained as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. "Sorry, I… I knocked, but you didn’t answer, and your mom said I could come up, and… you were asleep. In...a... a towel."

Your eyes shot open as you processed his words, immediately realizing your current state. "Oh my god!" You yelped, sitting up and clutching your towel tightly around yourself. Your face turned beet red as you pulled the blanket over your body for extra coverage.

Peter quickly turned away, raising his hands in surrender. "I didn’t see anything! I swear, I just—uh—I just… didn’t know what to do!"

You blinked a few times, your heart racing from the embarrassment, but after a moment, you couldn’t help but laugh. Peter was a flustered mess, standing there with his back turned, still rambling nervously.

"It’s fine, Peter. I’m not mad," you reassured him, though your voice still held a hint of laughter. "I was just… I fell asleep after my shower."

Peter slowly turned around, relief flooding his features. "Oh, thank God. I thought I’d ruined everything for a second."

You smiled, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself as you sat up more comfortably on the bed. "No, you’re fine. I’m the one who fell asleep in a towel. That’s on me."

Peter chuckled nervously. "Yeah, I mean, you must’ve been really tired." He gestured toward the door. "Should I, uh… wait outside while you get dressed?"

You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "Yeah, that’d be great. Give me like… five minutes."

"Right! Five minutes. Got it." Peter quickly shuffled out of the room, shutting the door behind him. He leaned against it, letting out a long breath. That was definitely not how he expected the evening to go.

Inside, you hurriedly got dressed, your heart still racing from the awkwardness. You couldn’t believe Peter had seen you like that, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but smile at how sweet and awkward he was about the whole situation. It was kind of cute, actually.

After a few minutes, you pulled on a comfy pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, feeling much more relaxed now that you were clothed. You opened the door and found Peter standing in the hallway, still looking a little sheepish.

"Okay, I’m decent now," you said, smiling at him.

Peter turned around, grinning nervously. "Awesome. So… dinner?"

You laughed softly. "Yeah, let’s go."

---

Dinner was surprisingly less awkward than you thought it would be. Once the initial embarrassment wore off, you and Peter fell back into your usual rhythm, chatting and laughing over the meal your mom had made. Peter was his usual dorky self, cracking jokes and making you smile, and soon, the towel incident felt like a distant memory.

"So," Peter said between bites, "I was thinking… maybe after dinner, we could watch a movie or something? You know, since we haven’t really had a proper date night in a while."

You raised an eyebrow playfully. "You mean, apart from you seeing me half-naked earlier? That wasn’t enough excitement for you?"

Peter nearly choked on his food, his face turning red again as you laughed. "Okay, okay, I deserve that," he said, holding up his hands in surrender. "But in my defense, it was an accident."

"An adorable accident," you teased, making him blush even more.

"Y/n!" He groaned, covering his face with his hands. "You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?"

You grinned, leaning across the table to give him a playful poke. "Nope. But it’s okay. It’s part of your charm."

Peter peeked out from behind his hands, his lips curling into a shy smile. "Well, as long as you still like me, I guess I’ll survive."

You smiled back at him, your heart swelling with affection. "Of course I still like you, Parker. You’re my favorite dork."

Peter’s face lit up at your words, and he leaned across the table, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "And you’re my favorite person."

The rest of the evening was spent cuddling on the couch, watching movies, and just enjoying each other’s company. All the awkwardness from earlier melted away, replaced by the warm, comforting feeling that came with being around someone you cared about.

And while Peter would probably still blush whenever he remembered the towel incident, it didn’t matter. He had you, and that was all that mattered.

‎∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

[strawberrykidneystone]

mechanic sevika

ty for requesting @sunflowerwinds ILY

a/n: i only know basics about cars so here's something that actually happened to my shit ass car LMAO

INSPIRED BY THIS

while you were pulling out of the parking lot from your weekly errands, you heard some sputtering from your car

it freaked you out a little bit, but then it went away so you ignored it for now

then the battery icon popped up

pulling into an auto parts shop, you had the cashier check your battery only to see coolant splashed all over the place

he said that your battery was fine, but your serpentine belt had snapped

whatever that meant

you felt nauseous, worried about how much this was going to cost

not to mention that most mechanics were shutting down for the night

the guy offered to take you home in his car in a flirty way, which was disgusting since he was well into his 60s, MAYBE 70s and ugly as fuck

as you backed away from him and gripped your car door handle, she appeared

like your knight in a shining jumpsuit

"we already chatted earlier, she's coming over to my shop to get her car fixed, she doesn't need a ride," she said firmly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as she walked up from behind you

she had heard everything in the store and the story you rambled out, figuring out the problem pretty quickly

she also knew the owner was a bit of a creep

the owner quickly nodded and scurried back inside with his equipment

you deflated with a sigh of relief, but still needed your goddamn car fixed

"thanks, i definitely didn't want to get in a car with him..."

"no problem sweetheart, and i was serious about taking your car in. i got my truck right here and my shop is just up the street." she offered and respectfully took her arm off your shoulders, the two fo you now facing each other

your eyes widened as you shook your head and started stuttering, "oh i couldn't its probably past your working hours and i don't want to be an inconvenience-"

she chuckled and held up a hand to stop your rambles, "it's fine doll. i was planning on working late anyways and your belt's an easy fix, you’ll be in and out in half an hour."

you thought it over in your head and accepted her offer, grabbing your essentials out of your car before she hooked yours up to her bright red truck

she opened the passenger door for you and offered her hand, which you happily took as you climbed up the tall truck

she had a pair of fuzzy dice hanging over the central mirror and the truck had a smell of stale cigarettes and weed despite the (probably old) air freshener hanging in the middle of the dice

the seat covers were leopard printed and faded, but added to the overall charm of the car

the two of you sat in a semi-awkward silence as the radio played old divorce dad rock

as sevika backed up your car into the garage with her arm reaching around the back of your seat, you had to ignore the blush that was creeping up you cheeks

you hopped out of her truck as she unhooked your car, parking hers out into the parking lot

pacing in the lobby and glancing at the window to the garage to see her working on your car, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand

if you weren’t so stressed about your car you would’ve taken time to appreciate how hot she looked more

sevika walked into the lobby with a reassuring smile once she was done and wiped her hands off with a grimy towel, “should be good as new sweetheart.”

she grabbed a post-it note off of her desk and scribbed her number down onto it, holding it out to you across the counter after you paid for the part, “call me if you have any other problems with your car.”

“could i call you just because i want to,” you blurted out before you could even process what you were saying, a deep flush covering your cheeks

sevika raised her eyebrows and smirked, rubbing her chin with a crooked finger, “ ���course doll, i’d love that.”

you aimlessly nodded and smiled, bumping into the doorframe on your way out to your newly fixed car

driving home, you couldn’t help but hope that you broke down on the side of the road

a/n: WHO WANTS A FUCKED ON HER TRUCK AFTER HOURS FIC‼️‼️‼️

taglist: @maneskinwh0re @archangeldyke-all @fandoms-will-be-the-death-of-me @sevikasfan @lez-zuha @comfortripley @sunflowerwinds

[areyoudreaminof]

Biscuits

Nyx didn’t have much of an idea of just how long he had been laying there. He wasn’t aware of anything. Not his limbs, or his wings. Not of the bed beneath him, or his room at the House of the Wind that he had escaped to. He certainly didn’t register his feelings. Nyx just lay there numbly, staring at the blank wall before him. The sun had begun to set and the last vestiges of light crawled back behind the heavy curtains that he had drawn shut. Perhaps he had slept, he couldn’t be too sure. He was so tired. The moods crept on him slowly the past several weeks. He was angry at first, lashing out at everyone about silly things, getting into stupid arguments with his father. Then the anger twisted into anxiety and sadness, suddenly. Panic balled itself up into sobs in his chest that threatened to release at any time, which they did when he was alone in his room. 

Tired of his mother asking him constantly what was wrong, Nyx found the sadness gone one day, like a soap bubble popping. Instead, a buzzing numbness had settled into his head and chest. Letters from his Day Court cousins sat unopened on his desk, he couldn’t seem to stomach their happiness and he had stopped writing all together.  He had slogged through the past several days in a blur, but today his father confronted him about his countenance. Nyx sat and stared blankly at the wall as his father lectured him. When it was over, he got up and flew to the House without a word. The afternoon sun was still high, and he dragged his body towards his room at the back of the house. If anyone knew he was there, they hadn’t disturbed him. 

The trim moulding along the ceiling didn’t move as Nyx stared at it. Somewhere, very far away, the door behind him creaked. Nyx squeezed his eyes shut, pretending to sleep so whoever it was would leave him alone. 

Something soft landed on the bed, while the smell of chocolate and the sounds of soft breathing crept towards him. The bedside lamp flicked on. Bracing himself, Nyx cracked one eye open. Ori, his four year old cousin, stood in front of him with a soggy chocolate-chip scone in her hand and a concerned look on her face. Her cat, Pudding crept down from his shoulder, his green eyes wide. 

“How did you know I was here?” Nyx mumbled. 

“House told me,” Ori climbed her way up onto the bed with one hand, crumbs scattering all over the duvet as she sat in front of him. “What’s wrong, Nyxie?” her voice was hushed. 

“Dunno, just sad I guess. House talks?” 

Ori nodded, “House said you went in your room. I got you somefing to eat ‘cause you missed dinner.” she held out the scone, misshapen and melted in her stubby fingers.

 Nyx wasn’t hungry, he hadn’t eaten much in days, but he ate the scone anyway. It made Ori happy. He reached over her, gulping down the water that the House had now provided. 

"Does anyone else know I'm here," Nyx asked.

"Mama knows, but Papa doesn't yet. Mama will tell him in a little bit. Why are you sad?” Ori asked, her owlish blue eyes were soft and riddled with concern he didn’t deserve, “Are you in trouble?” 

Nyx shook his head as he sunk lower into himself, curling his wings behind him and drawing up his knees. “I’m not sure,” he repeated, “it just came one day and hasn’t really gone away.” 

“Mama calls them down days, she says they come and you gotta be ready,” Ori nodded sagely, “lots of sleep and treats. And a baff, to get the sadness off." She checked off an invisible list, like a little winged librarian. 

Nyx gave a half hearted laugh which turned into a sputter of surprise as Pudding began to work and knead his paws into Nyx’s stomach. “What are you doing?” he mumbled, scratching the fluffy cat under his chin. 

“Makin’ biscuits!” Ori giggled, “he’s trying to get comfy. Scoot over, I wanna get comfy too.” 

Nyx moved as Ori wiggled her way next to him, grabbing his hand tight. “I’m sorry you’re sad, I hope you feel happy soon.” 

“Me too,” Nyx swallowed a lump of tears back into his throat, but they escaped out of his eyes anyway. He began to sob softly, and Ori reached out her hands and roughly wiped away the tears on his cheek and hugged him, while Pudding curled up between them and purred.  The vibrations and hug began to calm him.

“Love you Nyxie,” she whispered, as she grabbed his hand tightly. “It will be a happy day soon.” 

“Love you too, Ori.” and sleep took them both into its embrace.

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

PLEASE WRITE THAT ONE SHOT FULL PERMISSION GRANTED

— @girlishwhimsies

TYSM @girlishwhimsies for the prompt this was SO fun to write!! fic under the cut!!!

Ponyboy has no idea how long he's been sittin' in front of the TV. Too long, Pony's sure Darry would think. But it doesn't matter because Darry's workin' a late shift and it's just Two-Bit who's watchin' the box with the same intent, vacant look. Hell, even Soda's curled up in a blanket creamin' Dallas in a game of poker 'n absently watchin' when Dallas spends too long scowlin' at his hand.

(Pony can see clearly he hasn't got shit and he only tears his eyes away every few minutes to shake his head at Soda that Dally is bluffin' harder then Pony claimin' he ain't got homework. Dallas hasn't noticed yet.)

When Pony hears Darry's truck pull up in the driveway he gets the sudden, violent feelin' that he's forgotten somethin'. Somethin' important. He furrows his eyebrows, looks over into the kitchen. Oh shit.

His heart climbs right up into his throat, does a flip, and dives all the way down to his toes. Oh shit, oh shit. Pony is on his feet in a millisecond, jarrin' Dallas as he confidently bets on a hand of shit.

"Look out, Pony's off to the races!" Two howls but pulls his feet up as Pony jumps straight over them. He's not payin' attention to anythin' but gettin' into that kitchen before Darry does. As he passes the door he flips the lock, wrestin' with it when it doesn't go smoothly. Damn Darry 'n his insistence on never lockin' the thing.

"Pony?" Soda half rises, startin' after Pony as he ducks his entire head 'n shoulders into the icebox. "Everythin'-" He cuts himself off when Pony reemerges with the frozen solid chicken they were meant to be eatin' for dinner in forty-five minutes. For a moment, they both just stare at each other, Pony in horror, Soda in amusement.

Then Dallas lets out a long, low whistle as the truck door slams and grins that smile that shows off his silver fang. "Oh, you're capital F fucked." Then Soda cackles so hard he plops back onto the floor.

"Don't laugh." And Pony would normally kick his ass for that but right now he's too worried about the imminent threat of bein' hung up by his thumbs or locked in the shed until he's thirty. "Soda get over here. How do I thaw it out?" And he's got that whine crawlin' into his voice he hates but there are simply bigger fish to fry. Or birds to thaw.

Soda slides across the floor in his socks, ditchin' the blanket 'n throwin' it over Dallas. He rips it off 'n tries to whap Soda with it as he goes by, missin' to Two's great delight.

"I dunno, Ponykid, blow on it?" Soda leans down 'n huffs hot air onto it. Pony throws his head back 'n doesn't even care about the whine that peels out of his throat. He's dead. Darry was gonna kill him.

"Blow on it? Soda that ain't gonna work!" Pony rips the chicken away from where Soda is still puffin' at it. The door knob rattles 'n they can all distinctively hear the aggravated sigh from Darry even through the wall. Bad sign.

"Wait, I have an idea!" Soda snatches the bird back, slips 'n slides his way back into the living room with Pony hustlin' behind him. "Two, get up." Two-Bit takes in Soda holdin' the raw meat by the plastic-wrapped leg like a fish and Pony's face like a man at the gallows.

"Boys, unlock this damn door!" Darry already sounds irate.

"Yeah, Dallas go let Darry in." Soda pipes and Pony whips around wavin' a hand at his throat and frantically shakin' his head. Dallas shoots him a shit-eatin' grin again and gets to his feet, pointing towards the door.

Pony does the only thing he can think of 'n jumps on him.

"Wait, is that-" Two leans away from Soda, who waves the chicken around again 'n makes a face.

"No, it's Darry's million-dollar check yes it's dinner. Now get your ass up!" Pony abandons Dallas, grabs Two by the wrist, desperately tryin' to haul him up. Dallas instantly gets back on his feet and goes for the door again. Pony chooses between the imminent of two threats and goes for Dally again.

"What the hell do you want me to do about it?" Soda takes up Pony's spot wrestlin' Two-Bit up. Soda is far more successful.

"Sit on it!" Soda drags Two up, throwin' the bird down 'n then pressin' on his shoulders to try to get him back into the couch on top of it.

"Oh, I see. You only want me for my hot ass, you dog!" Two arches up so his back is against the sofa but his backside is nowhere near. "I'm not lettin' you throw me under the bus for this!"

"We're not throwin' you under the bus- we're throwin' you onto the bird!" And Two snickers, thrown off his task of keepin' his ass off the couch. Soda tosses himself full force onto Two's lap, bucklin' him back down.

Dallas wrangles Pony off, finally, and throws the lock on the door. Darry scowls, knocks Dallas' gently up the head since he has the misfortune of bein' the one closest to him. Dallas opens his mouth to bitch but Darry shoots him a look and he settles for mutterin' under his breath.

"Now, what the hell is goin' on here?" He drops his keys on the table 'n takes in Pony sprawled on the floor, Soda across Two and Two still wrigglin' for all he's worth against the cold.

"Nothin'." Both Soda 'n Pony say in unison. Darry looks between the two of them once, twice.

"I don't think I have the energy for whatever the hell you four have goin' on so I'm gonna go fix dinner 'n y'all better be back to sorts by the time I'm done." Darry kicks off his boots 'n places them neatly at the door, disappearin' into the kitchen.

"Uh, Darry? About that-"

"Ye- ouch!" Two manages to roll Soda straight onto the floor, shootin' to his feet. When he turns around, his lower back is pink from bein' in contact with the freezin' chicken. "That shit is cold!"

Darry stops, turns back around, blinks once, twice, opens his mouth, shuts it, tries again. "Pony, is that the chicken I told you to thaw when you got back from school?"

"Uh, would you believe me if I said no?" Darry rubs a hand across his temple, looks at the chicken on the couch with bewilderment. For a moment Pony swears they're all holdin' their breath. Then he laughs. Head back, hand grippin' the doorway laughs.

"Goddamn, Pony, what am I gonna do with you?" He grabs Pony by the front of the shirt, ruffles his hair, drops a kiss to a temple. "Kid, did you try to thaw that shit out by puttin' it under your brother?" Pony pouts a little and shakes his head like he can't believe Darry would have thought somethin' like that of him.

"No, Soda tried to thaw it out by puttin' it under him." Darry howls again, grabs his side and then Soda, pullin' him in 'n givin' him the same kiss.

"You boys are gonna be the death of me." He shoots Dallas a grin 'n Two tries to look put out, rubbin' the cold spot on his back still, but he can't make it stick and he ends up smilin' too.

"C'mon Darry, you know you love us." Two sidles up beside Soda, tryin' to nudge him out of Darry's arms. Darry releases Pony solely to cuff Two up the side of his head but pulls him in, too. He squeezes Dallas' shoulder and he stops scowlin' 'n grins.

"Well, I don't think anyone's eatin' chicken tonight." Darry laughs and returns to the door, snappin' his keys off the table. "Who wants to go out for Dairy Queen, instead?" They all hoot 'n holler, even Dallas. Soda even turns a cartwheel right there in the middle of the living room and Darrys in such a good mood he doesn't even tell him off for it.

"And I'll tell you what, y'all can even get milkshakes. Dinner's on Pony!" Pony's jaw drops open 'n Two grabs Soda 'n they both make a break for the truck. Gleefully yippin' about orderin' half the menu. Dallas howls 'n follows them out, pullin' Soda straight out of the air when he goes for shotgun.

"Aw, c'mon Darry-" Darry ruffles his hair and chuckles.

"I'm kiddin', kiddo." Pony will swear he never feels relief like he does in that moment ever again. "Just promise me next time, remember to take the chicken out of the fridge, yeah?"

[lady-lostmind]

NOT SICK!

Written for @steddiebingo Countdown to Midnight Prompt: Sick Fic

Rating: T | WC: 856 Thank you @oh-stars for betaing!!

Eddie watches as Steve slowly sniffs and coughs his way through his morning routine and stumbles into the kitchen with a groan. 

Eddie flashes him a bright smile. “Morning. How’re ya feelin’?”

Steve sniffs loudly, grabbing a mug out of the cabinet. “I’m fine.” His voice comes out all garbled from his stuffy nose.

“You sound sick.” He leans forward with his elbows on the counter, resting his chin on his hands.

Steve rolls his eyes. “I’m not sick.” He promptly sneezes into the crook of his elbow.

Eddie raises his eyebrows pointedly at him. 

Steve shakes his head. “I’m not sick! I have to go to work.”

Steve gets close to Eddie, trying to grab the canister full of tea but Eddie grabs his wrist and pulls him in close. Eddie sticks his hand on Steve’s forehead, ignoring his groan of protest. “Sweetheart, you have a fever.” 

Steve swats his hand away and grabs the tea. “It’s just hot in here.”

Eddie sighs, letting him go and crossing his arms over his chest. “You can’t go to work like this. You’ll get all the kids sick.”

Steve slumps, leaning on the counter. “It’s the first day back from break. I can’t miss today!”

Eddie leans forward and presses a kiss to Steve’s cheek and puts his hands on Steve’s shoulders. “I know how much you miss the kids. But you’re sick. And they need time to get a sub so you can’t do your denial dance much longer.” 

Steve sighs, letting Eddie pull him in for a hug. “I’ll call the school.”

Eddie pats his back and nods. “I think that’s probably a good idea.”

Steve grumbles again and makes his way back upstairs. While he calls the school, Eddie starts gathering supplies to bring up to their room. Box of tissues, bag of cough drops, nyquil, Steve’s abandoned tea, his book from the living room, and his favorite blanket. He sets everything up on Steve’s bedside table just as he comes in, back in his pajamas.

He huffs in annoyance as he climbs back into bed. “You didn’t have to do all that. I can take care of myself.”

Eddie sighs. “I know you can, baby. But let me help.”

Steve yawns, snuggling down into the bed, his face softening when Eddie leans down to kiss his forehead. “Sorry. I just hate being sick.” 

Eddie huffs out a laugh. “Really? I never would have guessed.”

He looks up at Eddie with big, pleading eyes. “Do you have to work today?”

Eddie sighs, putting his hands on his hips. “For a little bit. I have that draft due in a few days.”

Steve pouts. “Can you work in here?”

“I don’t want to keep you up, sweetheart.” 

Steve shakes his head. “I’ll still nap. I promise.”

Eddie sighs. “How about I cuddle with you until you fall asleep, then I’ll go work in my office?” 

Steve nods, flipping the covers over so Eddie can climb beneath them. He scoots in close to Steve, pulling him against his chest. “Go to sleep, baby.”

-

Eddie is hunched over his laptop a few hours later, so close to finishing a scene he just needs to focus a little long–

“Babe?” 

Eddie sighs, quickly finishing the sentence he was in the middle of before making his way down the hall to their room. “You okay, sweetheart?”

Steve shakes his head. “I woke up and you were gone.” 

Eddie smirks at him and walks to the edge of the bed and pushes Steve’s hair out of his face, letting his hand linger on his forehead. “You’re still warm. Did you take anything?”

Steve groans and shakes his head. Eddie sighs and huffs out a laugh. “Of course not.” 

He grabs the cough syrup off the table and pours it in the little cup, holding it out for Steve. 

Steve pouts and looks up at Eddie with big, sad eyes. “I hate that stuff.”

Eddie nods. “I know.” He puts it closer to Steve’s mouth with a pointed look.

Steve sighs but opens his mouth and lets Eddie pour the liquid in as he grimaces and whines about it. Eddie rolls his eyes and sets the cup back on the table. “I’ll go make you some tea.” He leans down and kisses Steve’s temple before turning to leave. 

Steve grabs his wrist and Eddie turns back with a smirk. “What, baby?”

Steve looks up with pleading eyes. “Will you put some honey in it?”

Eddie chuckles. “Of course I can, sweetheart.”Steve grins and rubs his thumb over Eddie’s wrist before turning over and snuggling into the pillows. Eddie heads downstairs and to the kitchen. He grabs a mug from the cupboard, Steve’s favorite tea, and– “Shit.” Eddie stares at the empty spot on the shelf where the honey usually sits. “No fucking honey?” Eddie shakes his head and walks out of the kitchen, down the hall to the closet in the entryway to grab his coat and stuff his feet into his shoes. He pauses at the bottom of the stairs and calls up to Steve. “Be right back, baby!”

[graceisinthelibrary]

Another prompt! If you haven't done it, how about 19?

Thanks for the prompt :-) It's a bit of a stretch, but I think this works:

“Tell me where you are, I'll come and get you.”

Usually this was his sentence. Since she had taken over the role as a blackout warden, she had called him twice for help. 

The first time she had found the fatally poisoned Bingo, the second time her bike had broken down in the middle of nowhere. He had picked her up that night and they had finished her round together and he had been surprised how many blackout offenders lived in and around Darrowby. It had pacified his mind immensely and she was, of course, not happy about it. At least Bosworth, the old grump, had given her a better bike after that incident and Siegfried secretly hated that she had never called him again. 

This time however he had been the one needing her help. 

What he hadn’t anticipated was how quickly she had found him, not on her bike though. It had only taken her fifteen minutes and he figured she must have pushed the engine of the old Morris to its limits. To his surprise, she was wearing her uniform, but no helmet. The jacket, however, looked strangely astray, because she had missed a few buttons and he noticed her flushed cheeks. His pulse became a little unsteady as he watched her approaching him. The stiff breeze up here in the Dales tore at her hair and a few strands had come loose and she was eagerly brushing them behind her ears. The sun was setting behind the hills and the air got chilly. He shivered a bit. 

“Mr Farnon!” She shouted, her voice filled with a worry he couldn’t grasp. “I came as quickly as I could.” 

“Where you out on a mission?” He asked, pointing at her uniform, when she stopped in front of him. 

Perplexed, she shook her head. “You said it’s an emergency. Something about a crash in a field.” She went over to the wall and looked over it.  

He cleared his throat. “Err… Mrs Hall…” 

“There’s nothing,” she said deadpan after she wasn’t sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. There was no crashed plane or any other debris that could be remotely war related. All she saw was a meadow in the endless beauty of the Yorkshire Dales. 

“Siegfried Farnon…” 

“I never said anything about a crashed plane,” he clarified before her wrath could hit him with full force. “I said I had a problem near a field, where I almost crashed.” He pointed at his beloved Rover that stood about ten yards away. The vehicle parked near a ditch. She went back to him and with a heavy sigh she took off her warden bag. “What happened?” 

“One of the tires bursted,” he reported. “But the Rover’s fine, just a bit shaken up. And now I need a lift.” 

She gave him one of her killer looks. One that was reserved for muck on the floor in the kitchen or when she caught him using the Lord’s name in vain. 

“You do know I dropped everything on the spot to come here,” she said, deliberately calm. “I thought you were hurt or worse.” 

“Well…” He swallowed. “I am most grateful to you, but that was a misunderstanding…” In retrospect, he thought, the line had been a bit cranky and he may have hung up the receiver a little too quickly. He also didn’t have any more coins on him, so he had to cut the call short. “I didn’t mean to worry you.” 

“I called Bosworth. He’s on his way. With the whole cavalry.” 

“I’m so sorry.” Feeling awkward he looked to the tip of his shoes. 

“I’m glad you’re alright,” she said after a few seconds of silence. “Ridiculous creature.” 

He stole a glance from her. She wasn’t as angry with him as she pretended to be. He heard it in her voice. She wasn’t amused, but she was certainly relieved that he was still in one piece. 

“Admit it,” he joked. “You would have loved to play the heroine who saves the damsel in distress.” 

“You’re as much as a damsel as I’m a patron saint. And now get in the car, before I let you walk.”  

Sensing he was back in her good graces, he followed her to the Morris and obediently climbed into the passenger’s seat. As he watched her starting the engine, he couldn’t help but smile. She had dropped everything to rush to his rescue; it was a thought that warmed his heart more than he could say. 

“What’s so funny?” She asked when she saw the broad smile on his face. 

“Nothing.” 

“Mr Farnon…” 

“I just thought how lucky the whole of Darrowby can be to have you as their patron saint. That’s all.” She groaned and shook her head, but didn’t offer a retort. He loved having the last word on the matter. At least this once. 

[she-whatshername]

So, your Tyrrish men headcanons are life. I adore every last one of them even when they make my heart hurt.

Not that any of them have time now, but someday when the war has ended and they all obviously live HEA, what kind of hobbies would they be into?

Apologies if this has already been asked. If it has I missed it.

Oh, excellent ask. And love the emphasis on LIVE. Because yes they do, all of them, lolol

Bodhi:

I shared this in an earlier post somewhere but I am fully convinced Xaden commissioned Bodhi to make the saddle for Violet. So, being that I feel that he’d be doing some type of metal work when he gets around to it

But, because he’s such a people person and people leader, I think post the war he’s doing a lot of leadership and helping to rebuild Aretia and the building up the Tyrrish crown. He does it so much its now his hobby haha

Also, while not a hobby persay, this man is getting busy post the war

Settling down

Having all the kids

And still being the best at balancing Xaden on the throne, leadership duties, and his family

This man can truly do all things

Garrick:

Horses

Lolol

IDK why but he gives ‘horse girl’ vibes.

I think he’d take up horse riding again and it become a joke that his ‘mares’ in his stable are actual horses in his stable. He’s of course at Xaden’s side post the war but when he isn’t he’s with the horses. Raising them, teaching others to ride, caretaking, etc

Also, runes. I think he’s also doing rune work in his spare time and teaching others. He’s always just crafting up something unique with runes to help others

And, like Bodhi, he’s spending a lot of time taking of and supporting others

I adore Garrick

Xaden

Violet

Lolol

Is that a hobby? Because that’s all I see him doing pos the war

But, in all seriousness, I think he’d be into swimming

Okay hear me out. I have nothing to back up this headcanon but, If we take into account what happened to him at the end of IF, I could maybe see him becoming paranoid about being out in nature alone wandering around, fearful he could lose himself and be tempted again (because I thought he’d be into hiking, climbing at first)

I could see a cute moment where Violet lures him into a pool of water and has him just float for a bit, completely weightless and unable to touch the ground that he actually loves it?

So to clear his head or release stress he just goes and does some laps and floats about

Imogen

She is on a journey of herself

Self care is her hobby post the war

She’s finding peace outside hiking, journaling, maybe even knitting

I know, everyone would be like “Imogen, you’re knitting a scarf?! That’s so cute.” And then she’d just glare at them and tell them she could easily stab them with the needles

But honestly they’d be some of the warmest scarfs, hats, blankets, etc

Knitting reminds her of her life before the apostasy. Her mother and sister would knit and Imogen would hate the idea of just, sitting there for days, but now she sits on her bed, knitting quietly while putting together a beautiful quilt while putting herself back together in the process

[420days]

CHAPTER 2

excuse any errors or mistakes

tags: @bebesobrielo @trentybenty @amandairene88 @kiki1704 @paigereeder @uceyliyahh @skyesthebomb @cyberdejos2 @chloeijuana @tian-monique

"What about this?" Simone asked Bianca as she pulled the dress out of her suitcase "I feel like this is an appropriate outfit for the interview.

Simone had landed in Tampa the night before and was currently in her hotel room trying to find something to wear to the venue where the meet and greet would take place.

"I like that. It's cute, you're not doing too much, and you still look good. Maybe you can find a boo out there too," Bianca raised her eyebrows at her.

"Girl ! I'm not here for none of that. I'm honestly more excited to see all the little kids with there merch and stuff.”

"Mmmh, I forgot you love the kids." Bianca nodded her head into the phone. "They’re gonna be so happy to see y’all.”

When they got off the phone, Simone began doing her hair, parting it down the middle and hotcombing the top so it was flat. She swooped her baby hairs and perfected her makeup.

After getting dressed, Simone arrived at the Stadium around nine-thirty, earlier than necessary but just how she liked it. She appreciated having time to settle in, get familiar with her surroundings, and find something to eat.

She instantly noticed how packed it was, with volunteers running around setting things up. Unsure of what to do or who to help, she spotted a woman walking past with a badge around her neck. The woman was dressed in a black pantsuit, matching heels, and her hair slicked into a low bun.

"Um, excuse me," Simone said, stopping her.

"Yes?" The woman gave Simone a blank look.

"I was invited here for an interview. I don't really know who I'm supposed to talk to or what I'm supposed to do."

Sighing, the woman took the clipboard from under her arm and looked up. "What's your name?"

"Simone." She slightly rolled her eyes at the woman who seemed to be uninterested.

"Oh yes! I can see your name right here on the list. Come over here so I can get you settled in." The woman waived Simone over to the backstage area.

The woman clipped a microphone pack to the back of her shirt and led her to the dressing room that was set up for her and Roman. There was all kinds of snack and drinks set up on the table so she helped herself to the fruit along with a bottle of water. As she was snacking there was a knock at the door. It was the same woman from earlier with Roman not too far behind her.

“It will probably we another 30 minutes until they’re ready for you guys but I’ll come check on you guys in a few.” She told them.

“Hey.” Simone smiled when he walked into the room.

“Hey Simone, how are you?” He spoke to her.

“Well and yourself?”

“Ah, I can’t complain. Have you been here long?” He kept the conversation going.

"Not really, I just got here and I had to walk around for a little bit to find somone that works here. They didn’t give any instructions on what to do when we got here.”

“That’s the same thing that happend to me. I was looking for you when I came in.” He told her as he sat down in the seat next to her.

“They need to give the champs better treatment.” She pursed her lips causing him to let out a laugh.

-

“She was definitely flirting with you.”

“You think so?” Roman raised an eyebrow as he opened the car door for Simone to climb inside. He hosnlty wants laying the woman any attention and thought she was unprofessional.

“Yes! She wasn’t even asking me any questions for real but that’s fine. I get it.” She held her hands up defensively.

“Oh, you get it?” He chuckled as he ran his hand over his beard and got comfortable in his seat.

“I mean yeah I’m not gonna sit here and lie like you’re not attractive but she should’ve been doing her job.” Simone giggled before pulling her hair over her shoulder.

“You’ve been blunt your whole life?” He asked her after a moment of silence passed between them. Roman knew he had to break the ice with Simone if he wanted to get to know her.

“I wouldn’t say blunt but definitely outspoken. I feel like people make normal things awkward for no reason. I’m not going to lie about someone being fine, respectfully of course. Not to be disrespectful towards your wife or anything.” She shrugged her shoulders.

“I’m divorced.” He spoke.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Simone spoke not knowing if it was a sensitive topic for him. She went through a breakup herself last year so she knew it could be touchy.

“Don’t be, it’s all good. Are you seeing anyone?” He asked catching her off guard but she felt like she had to quickly clear it up.

“Nope. ” She shook her head and looked down at her freshly manicured nails.

“I’d love you take you out sometime and get to know you more if you’re up for it. I know we’re busy and everything.” He motioned towards their belts. “But I could make time.”

“That would be nice. I’d definitely be down for that. Would you want to take my number?” Simone smiled at him, slightly surprised that he was interested in him.

“Most definitely.” He nodded his head and took his phone out the pants pocket of his dress pants and handed it to her.

[crownofgildedlilies]

ORBIT - 3, the first dinner

satoru gojo x fem!reader wc: 3.3k [prev] - [full series] - [next]

You knew enough about kids to know that they’re not supposed to stand quietly at the edge of the room. 

You’re making yourself at home in Satoru Gojo’s kitchen at his massive house when you notice Tsumiki, standing in the doorway. She’s watching you closely, eyes a little wide and a smile curving her lips upwards, just the slightest bit in the corners. 

Gojo is off on a mission. You’d actually been at Jujutsu High, turning in corrected paperwork to Yaga when he had called, asking you to watch the kids while he took a last minute mission. You’d accepted, obviously, and handed your phone over to Yaga so your former principal could tell Gojo off for being forty-five minutes late to a meeting they were supposed to be having at that very moment. 

It’s the first time you’ve been alone with the kids, and besides your initial arrival when you said hello to them in their playroom—state of the art, equipped with an in-home jungle gym and art center—you hadn’t seen nor heard from them since. 

“Hi, Tsumiki,” You call softly, watching her from the corner of your eye as you prepare dinner. Gojo had left you more than enough money to simply order delivery, but you had taken one look at his fully stocked kitchen and decided you’d be cooking. The kitchen at your apartment was barely big enough for a microwave—you were taking advantage of Gojo’s unreasonable wealth. 

“Hi, Miss.” The young girl replies warily, taking half a step into the kitchen. She’s got her hands clasped behind her back, rocking back and forth on her heels adorably. 

“You don’t need to call me Miss. My name is just fine.” You remind her, smiling softly so that she can’t possibly mistake your words for anger. She’s just so sweet, and Gojo had mentioned she was more on the sensitive side. “Where’s your brother?”

“He’s in the other room. He didn’t want to come with me to see what you were doing.” Tsumiki is still hovering by the doorway. You nod slowly, grin curving one side of your lips, drying your hands on a dish towel beside the sink. 

“I’m just about to start cooking dinner.” You wave your hand over the counters, filled with ingredients you’d pulled from the refrigerator and cabinets shortly before she had arrived. “Do you want to help me?” 

She’s nodding immediately, stepping into the kitchen fully. You smile fully at her, dragging a chair to the sink so she could wash her own hands. She climbs up on her own and pumps far more soap than she needs onto her palms. 

“Can I fix your hair back? It’ll be easier to cook without it in your eyes.” You hum out the question, earning a quick nod from the young girl. Her dark brown hair is tied up in another one of Gojo’s hastily done ponytails, but either from his inexperience or her own rigorous playing, many of the strands now hang in front of Tsumiki’s face. 

“Gojo tries his best, but he’s not very good at doing hair.” She sighs, sounding so incredibly serious that you have to chuckle softly. As gently as you can, you tug the hair tie from her hastily done pony, finger-combing it into place. It would look better if you had a brush, but it’s miles improved than whatever Gojo had going on. 

“He can’t be the best at everything,” You grin, twisting the elastic tight for a final time before stepping back to admire your work. Instantly, Tsumiki spins around on the chair to smile at you, her tiny voice thanking you sweetly. You can’t help it when you reach out a hand and pinch her cheek. “You’re adorable, Tsumiki.” 

“And you’re really pretty,” She smiles bashfully. “Gojo said you were pretty before we met, and he was right.” 

Her words, despite your best efforts, have you blushing. You try your best to smile normally at her, and you’re so glad that you can busy yourself by prepping the food on the counter. Adjusting her chair so that it’s beside your designated work station for the evening, you’re careful to give her jobs that keep her little fingers far from the cutting board. 

It’s not long before Megumi wanders in, frowning like usual, though his hands are shoved deep in his pockets instead of crossed over his chest. 

“Want to help us, Megumi?” You call out, keeping a careful eye on Tsumiki adding veggies into the pot. She’d been animatedly telling you a story about something that happened in school, and you’d been dutifully listening and asking questions to keep her talking. You know it will be much harder to get Megumi to open up, but you’re friends with Satoru Gojo. You love a challenge. “I could always use more helpers.” 

“No,” He says, but it’s not in the same snappy tone you’ve seen him use with Gojo. It’s hesitant, and you recognize the uncertain look in his eyes as he watches you and his sister. Slow to trust, it’s clear to you. But despite his denial, he doesn’t leave the room. Instead, he stays hovering by the doorway to the kitchen, surveying what’s happening. 

“Did you need something?” You try, though you’re pretty sure the dark haired boy wouldn’t even tell you if he did. From a few conversations with Gojo and a handful of interactions, you’ve gathered that Megumi Fushiguro is as independent as he is sassy. You’re pretty sure he’ll give Gojo a run for his money. 

“No,” Megumi repeats the one syllable word, shaking his head. His permanently messy hair bounces with the movement, and you can’t help the way your lips curve up at the sight. You duck your head to keep him from seeing the movement, because you’re pretty sure he wouldn’t react positively if he thought you were laughing at him. 

“Megumi, be nice.” Tsumiki scolds, eyes narrowing at her younger brother. You wonder how much time and energy she’s already spent in her short life attempting to keep him in line, and the thought makes you frown. You hate the idea that life forced her to grow up far faster than she needed to. 

“He is being nice, Miki.” You hum casually, stirring the veggies in the pan. You can feel both children staring at you, and you know you need to choose your next words carefully. “He doesn’t want to help and he doesn’t need anything. It’s perfectly fine if he just wants to watch. Dinner’s almost done, anyways.” 

Tsumiki is satisfied with your answer at once and goes back to her job of mixing all the chopped greens in a big bowl for a side salad, but Megumi is still watching you. You take a chance and lift your gaze to him, and you’re not surprised in the slightest to find him clearly thinking through your answer and what he makes of it. It’s an intelligence you don’t think a five year old should have, but once more you’re cursing the circumstances that taught him to be so cynical. 

And maybe you’re cursing your circumstances, too. Kindred spirits, and all. 

“Well…” Megumi starts, tearing his stare away from you and looking across the room at nothing in particular. “Maybe I could set the table.”

“I can help!” Tsumiki shouts, scrambling down from her chair. 

“That’d be nice,” You smile, not making a big deal out of his offer. If Megumi couldn’t stand Gojo because he was so dramatic, then you would have to remember to keep things casual and let him go at his own pace. “I’ll call Gojo and see if he’s going to be here to eat. He said he wouldn’t be out long tonight.” 

Megumi doesn’t say anything at the mention of his guardian, but he does cross the kitchen and wait patiently beside you while you pull three plates from the cabinet. You stack silverware and napkins on the plates you hand to him, and then you give Tsumiki the glasses. You hold your breath as they make their trek to the dining room, half-expecting the sound of broken glass to rain through the house. 

Once you’re certain they made it to their destination without tragedy, you pull your phone from your pocket and dial the one number you never thought you’d have a reason to memorize. It rings far fewer times than you expected it to before he answers, voice deep and lilting. 

“Satoru Gojo, world’s strongest, speaking!” He chirps, and you roll your eyes as you prop your phone between your shoulder and ear to clear up your hands for tending to dinner. 

“Are you going to be home in time to eat, world’s most humble?” You ask. He’d mentioned before he left that he didn’t expect his mission to take long, though you weren’t sure if it was because it really was a low-level curse or that he was just that arrogant. “The kids are setting the table now, but you’ve got probably fifteen minutes until the food is ready.” 

“As lovely as that sounds, I’ll have to pass. Yaga’s being mean, again.” You can hear his pout through the line, and your brows raise in an unimpressed quirk. 

“He’s being mean or he’s holding you accountable, Gojo?” The question comes out with a huff, but you feel your lips curve upwards and hear his dramatic gasp at your obvious question. 

“Oh no. He’s gotten to you, too.” Gojo sounds scared in an over the top way, and you can’t help the snort of laughter that falls past your lips. It’s nice to laugh, and you let the sound hang in the air while you check on the rice. “Want me to bring you dessert tonight? It’ll probably be after the kids go to bed.” 

“No, that’s fine.” You hum, trying not to think about the buzzing in your chest at the idea of you and Gojo talking so casually about the kids, like they were your kids, together. “Tsumiki asked if we could bake cupcakes after dinner.”

“Fine. Two desserts for me tonight, then.” 

“As long as you brush your teeth after,” You tease. Another comfortable silence lingers over the line, and part of you is screaming at your own self for never once being brave enough to call him in all your time in North America. It’s easy to talk with him, you realize, when he can’t see your face. But soon enough you hear tiny feet padding their way towards the kitchen. “I’ll save you a plate. Don’t fill up on sweets, Gojo.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He responds, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice. It’s annoying enough—no, you’re absolutely not blushing—that you tell him goodbye before hanging up the phone. It’s over in seconds and the device is tucked away before Megumi’s head pops back into the room, saying they were short a napkin for the table. 

He’s halfway back out of the kitchen with his quarry in hand when he suddenly stops, and you barely catch the sudden lack of movement in the corner of your eye. He’s trying to gather his words, you can see it on his face. He’s not old enough to quite hide what he’s thinking, and you’re grateful you don’t have to guess with him. 

“Tsumiki said you’re making cupcakes after dinner.” He finally asks, and though you had known he was waiting to ask you something, you hadn’t thought it would be that. 

“We are. Gojo won’t be back until after you guys are in bed.” You explain, careful not to act too interested in why he wanted to know. You’re stirring the dinner to give yourself an air of nonchalance, and you smile inwardly at the idea that you were trying so hard to not look like you were trying hard—for the benefit of a five year old. 

“Can I help?” Megumi’s tiny voice asks, and you fight the urge to fist bump. Gojo had done nothing but complain for hours on end that Megumi was too independent and closed off. But there he was, asking if he could help you and his sister bake cupcakes.

Oh, you were going to rub it in Satoru Gojo’s face. 

“Of course, Megumi.” 

It’s hours later when you’re tucked on the couch that you finally hear the front door open. You don’t move from your position, but you turn the television off and listen to the sounds of evenly measured footsteps wander through the massive house. Part of you is dreading the fact that you’ll have to go back to your own apartment soon, but you can’t exactly ask to have a sleepover. 

“There you are,” Gojo’s voice rings through the living room as he finds you, and you steal a moment to study the length of him. With narrowed eyes, you take in the tired lines of his face, so out of place. The lights are dim enough that he’s pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head, revealing everything to you. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask while pushing yourself to your feet. Gojo flashes you a grin like you had ever been one to fall for his charm, and when you only frown at him in return you watch as his shoulders slump slightly. You sigh, but you’re certain it’s not him you’re upset with. “C’mon. I’ll warm up your dinner while you tell me.”

“Since when have you been so doting?” He quips, no doubt aiming to get a rise out of you to avoid your questioning. But you’re too used to his tricks after four years of knowing him, so you only roll your eyes as you pad past him and into the kitchen. He follows dutifully, and that’s really the biggest sign that something is bothering him. 

“Sit,” You order, pointing to a stool tucked underneath the edge of the kitchen island. He does, but in the same movement he reaches for one of the cupcakes you and the kids stacked neatly on a plate before sending them to bed. You make a warning hum low in your throat, and it takes everything in you not to cringe at the fact that you really have turned into a mother hen, seemingly overnight. “Eat dinner first, then you can have sweets.” 

“Okay, Mom,” He teases, but he follows directions, tucking his hands under his chin as he watches you pluck the covered plate you had made up for him earlier from the fridge and set it into the microwave. You can’t get yourself to meet his uncovered stare, for whatever reason, so you settle on watching the plate rotate as it warms. “How were the kids tonight?”

“Angels.” You hum, tapping your finger on the counter restlessly. A grin finds its way onto your lips and you discover the courage to look at Gojo with a teasing smirk. “Megumi made me promise not to let you in his room.”

“He loves me,” Gojo clutches a hand over his heart, and you’re certain that it’s not the first time Megumi has banned Gojo from his bedroom. The thought makes you snicker to yourself just as the timer dings on the microwave, and you pop it open after the first beep. 

You set the plate in front of him and busy your fingers by searching out for utensils to eat with. You even go so far as pouring him a glass of water before you’re left with no choice but to stand across from him with your arms crossed while he slowly eats. Even though the entire kitchen island stands between the two of you, you can’t help but feel like you want to run from the room. But you’ve never seen him look so tired, so you stand your ground and clear your throat to get his attention. 

“You still haven’t told me what’s wrong.” You don’t sugarcoat your words. Not with Satoru Gojo, who you think is an expert at finding ways to try and derail conversations he doesn’t want to participate in. 

“And here I was, thinking you were doing all this because you were sweet on me.” He grins, flashing you a dazzling smile, aided by the lack of sunglasses covering his eyes. You’re almost distracted by the sight, and you blame it on the intimate setting. 

“I’m not leaving until you tell me.” You cross your arms and tilt your chin up, stubborn and pouting. You’d already lost one friend because you weren’t there when they were struggling with something—you’d be damned to all hell if you lost another. 

“That’s not a threat. I like having you around.” Gojo laughs, almost unaffected. Almost. The most you give him is the slight dip of your chin so you could narrow your eyes further at him, and within seconds he’s huffing a dramatic sigh. Even though his dinner is only half finished, he picked up a cupcake, and you let him. “I got into it with Yaga. It’s no big deal.” 

“About what?” You don’t let him play off what happened. Yaga is a hothead, you’ve known that since your first class with him. But despite that, you had never seen Gojo get into it with Yaga—not counting that one time in your second year when you’d nearly died on a mission you weren’t yet suited for. Gojo had yelled at Yaga then, but you’d never seen him do it since. 

“He wants me to meet with the Higher Ups.” The words sound bitter on his tongue, and it makes your own face twist in distaste. You’d never had to deal much with the jujutsu Higher Ups, but you can’t imagine they were very pleasant. “Something about coming to work for the school. But I doubt that’s all they want from me.” 

You’re not brave enough to say it, but you know what he’s hinting at. The Higher Ups are looking for someone to clean up the mess Suguru Geto left in his wake, and who better than jujutsu’s strongest? The thought makes you sick to your stomach. 

“I think it’d be a good thing if you went back to teach at the school.” You offer, because the tension was too thick to ignore. Gojo nods, his blue eyed stare fixed on pushing food aimlessly around his plate. You sigh, because you don’t really know what else to do. “I should go home.”

There’s a beat of silence, and the distance across the kitchen island you’d purposefully placed yourself behind suddenly feels much too far. For a split second, you think Gojo might ask you to stay longer, but it’s only fleeting as he nods almost imperceptibly. 

“My car is waiting out front to take you,” He says casually, and you want to chastise him for not telling you that he had somebody waiting on you, but you bite your tongue. He’s already had one person important to him tell him off that evening. For once, you’ll let him have some peace. 

You’re brushing past him to gather your coat and bag when his hand shoots out, wrapping around your wrist. His infinity is off, because you can feel the burn of his skin against yours. 

“Thank you,” His voice is quiet. You think he must not want to break the quiet tension the kitchen holds, because you don’t want to either. “For watching the kids. For dinner. For talking.” 

“Night, Gojo.” You kick your sock clad toe into the leg of his stool and brush your thumb against the inside of his wrist holding you. He lets go, and you’re missing his warmth more than you’d ever admit, even under duress. “Stay out of Megumi’s room.”

He laughs, then, and you walk away with a victorious grin. 

You don’t understand the pounding of your heart, but that’s neither here nor there.

taglist status: open

@moonchhu

[gingerteafairy]

𝙋𝙤𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 (𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙭 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧)

A heated rivalry turns into love sparks when you and Alex, the undeniably gorgeous genius, clash at a college conference.

tags n warnings: college!au, rivals, angry sex, praise kink, degradation(?), dumbification, maybe ooc alex, semi public sex. word count: 3.4k

Your fingers wouldn’t stop drumming against your arm as you paced nervously back and forth, waiting for the presentation before yours to finish. The girl on stage was flawless, her words flowing effortlessly. She clearly deserved first place. But so did you. Your project was perfect. Countless sleepless nights had brought you to this moment. Your partner, tired of your stress—induced antics, had begged you to calm down more times than you could count. This was the night that could define your future in college if your article was accepted. 

"Pathetic." 

The sharp, low insult startled you, the voice warm against the back of your neck. You jumped forward with a small yelp, slapping a hand over your mouth as every head in the room turned to look at you, including the judges'. 

“Careful now,” Alex said in a hushed tone, his lips curled in amusement as he leaned slightly closer, invading your personal space with infuriating ease. “Wouldn’t want to disrupt Miss Perfect up there. Not that it matters—you’re obviously better than her.”

“She deserves first place,” you hissed, trying to mask the faint stab of envy that twisted in your chest. It wasn’t your fault; she was more experienced, a senior. She did deserve it. Probably.

Alex rolled his eyes, strolling to your side with his hands casually stuffed in his pockets. “Yeah, your face totally says that.” He stepped closer, an irritating proximity that made your skin prickle. You took a deliberate step away. 

“Of course you made the most flawless project again, didn’t you?” you bit out, trying to ignore the simmering tension. 

He smirked. “Oh, doll, you’re putting in the effort too. Maybe this time you’ll snag third place. I’ll happily settle for second—didn’t even try that hard.”

Your fists clenched at your sides. Somehow, Alex always managed to win these conferences. It didn’t matter if his research lacked depth or originality. He still walked away with that curly charming glory that should’ve been yours. When you opened your mouth to retort, your partner tugged on your sleeve, pointing to the digital banner. 

“No way,” you muttered, your heart sinking.

Alex had cut in.  

He turned, walking backward toward the podium with that signature grin plastered on his face. “Wish me luck, doll.”

“Fuck you,” you muttered under your breath, your nails digging into your palms as anger surged through you.  

“Why don’t you come with me?” He winked, then turned to climb the steps, greeting everyone with a handshake that was irritatingly natural.  

Alex presented the same topic he had last year, but his charisma captured the audience’s attention anyway. He thrived in the spotlight, and you hated him for it. He was smart, terribly clever. He was hard—working and beated you in everything. By the time he returned to stand by the wall, that insufferable, victorious smile on his face, you could barely contain your frustration.  

“Your turn,” he said smoothly, his voice low. “Good luck—not that you need it. You’re too good to even be here.”  

You ignored him, marching up to the stage with your partner.  

Your laptop acted up, of course. Perfect. But you recovered, delivering the presentation you had rehearsed a thousand times in the mirror. Every word flowed as planned, your research airtight, your visuals seamless. No negative comments followed. If first place wasn’t yours, it would be an injustice.

When you stepped off the stage, Alex was still there, leaning casually against the wall. His eyes followed you with a sharp intensity that made your skin crawl.  

“Congrats. Better than me,” he greeted softly.  

“Don’t start,” you snapped, brushing past him, but he blocked your path, his smirk replaced by something unreadable.  

“Can you stop being so stubborn and listen for once?” he said, throwing his hands up in mock exasperation.  

You crossed your arms, glaring. “Fine. Talk.”

“Alone.” His voice dropped an octave, the single word heavier with implication. 

You rolled your eyes as your partner backed away with a quick excuse, leaving you alone with him. “What’s so important it can’t be said here?” you challenged, the frustration in your voice barely contained.

Alex’s jaw tightened. “Alone,” he repeated firmly, and something in his tone made you comply, despite the annoyance simmering in your veins.  

“Well?” you prompted, crossing your arms again.  

“Not here,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost uncertain.  

“I’m done with this,” you snapped, spinning on your heel, but his hand caught your wrist, spinning you back around.  

“Would you stop?” His grip wasn’t harsh, but it was enough to halt you. His gaze burned into yours. “I wasn’t joking when I said you’re too good for this place. Your work? It’s miles ahead of theirs. These awards don’t matter—they’re just popularity contests.”

“They matter to me!” you shot back, your voice trembling with anger and unshed tears. He released your wrist, and you stepped back, pressing your lips together to keep the tears at bay. Crying in front of him was the last thing you wanted.

“Are you done now?”  

“No.” His tone was softer this time, and he stepped closer again. “I meant what I said. Your work is brilliant, better than hers or mine. You’re good—too good. It’s like you’re trying to get my attention.” His lips quirked up slightly, but his eyes held a vulnerability that made your heart skip. “And if that’s what you’re doing, it’s working. I can’t stop thinking about you.”  

You blinked, your throat suddenly dry. You hated him, didn’t you? The endless bickering, the way he always seemed to overshadow you. But he was gorgeous. Irritatingly, undeniably gorgeous.  

“For once, I’ve managed to shut you up,” he teased, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your skin.  

“You have such a big ego, you jerk” you muttered, though your lips curved slightly against your will.

“My dick is bigger, wanna see?” he countered, his lips curving into a faint smile.  

You stormed off the place, your pulse pounding in your ears, your hands trembling with the anger that threatened to spill over. Alex’s smug grin as he stood there, basking in the attention, was the last straw. The fact that his words—his infuriatingly sweet, disarming words—still lingered in your head only made it worse.

You pushed past a door, slipping into the quiet dressing—room. The faint hum of the crowd outside still reached you, but here, it was dim, secluded. You leaned against the wall, exhaling sharply as you fought to steady yourself.

Footsteps echoed behind you, slow and deliberate. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Wanted a private place?” Alex called out, his voice calm but tinged with a confidence that only irritated you more. “Didn't know you wanted me this much.”

“You're so disgusting.” you snapped, spinning on your heel to face him. “Can't you think of something that is not your dick? Working in a sex store destroyed your brains that much?” 

“Damn, when was the last time someone fucked you?” His mocking words hit you like a punch to the gut. “Maybe that's why you're so stressed, I could hand you a good discount on dildo section, but I guarantee mine is better. You know, natural. Less plastic. Healthy planet.”

“Why are you here? Haven’t you humiliated me enough tonight?” You cut off.

Alex raised his hands, palms out in mock surrender, though his smirk still lingered. “Humiliate you? Come on, you held your own out there. You were incredible, and you know it.”

“You don’t get to say that!” you shot back, your voice rising. “You always do this, Alex. You get under my skin, make me doubt everything, and then—then you swoop in like you care.”

“I do care,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. The smirk was gone, replaced by an expression you couldn’t quite read.

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “Right. You care so much that you made sure to go before me, knowing exactly how it would throw me off. You care so much that you couldn’t help but provoke me every step of the way.”

“I followed you because I care,” he interrupted, stepping closer. “Because I can’t just let you walk away like this.”

You took a step back, the wall pressing against your shoulders. “Well, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you decided to make me feel like an idiot in front of everyone.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“Save it, Alex,” you cut him off, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “I don’t need your fake compliments or your half—assed apologies.”

For a moment, he said nothing, just stared at you with an intensity that made your chest tighten. Then he closed the distance between you in two strides.

“Do you know how frustrating you are?” he asked, his voice low, his eyes locking with yours, pinning you against the wall with his arms. “You’re brilliant, stubborn, and you don’t take crap from anyone—not even me. You think I don’t notice how hard you work, how much this all means to you? You think I don’t see how you light up when you’re passionate about something?”

Your breath hitched, your words caught in your throat.

“I didn’t come here to fight with you,” he continued, his voice softening. “I came here because I can’t stand seeing you like this. Because you’re in my head, all the damn time, and no matter how much we argue, no matter how much I try to push it away, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Alex’s gaze lingered on you, heavy and unrelenting, as if he was waiting for something. You stood there, fists clenched at your sides, trying to process his sudden confession.

“Why’d you do it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The question was loaded, layered with all the frustrations, late—night arguments, and the ever—present tension between you.  

“Do what?” he replied, his voice softer than you’d ever heard.  

“This!” You gestured between the two of you. “You drive me insane. You humiliate me, you’re constantly one step ahead, and now you’re standing here saying you can’t stop thinking about me?” 

He let out a low chuckle, though there was no mockery in it this time. “I do it because I don’t know how else to get your attention,” he admitted, his tone raw and unguarded. “You challenge me, you push me, and, yeah, maybe I’ve been a jerk sometimes. But you’re the only one who’s ever made me feel like I could be better, like I need to be better. You deserve a man as clever as you or you’ll get bored without it and deep down on your fucking pretty head you want me and know no one can fuck you like I can, like you fucking deserve it.”

You stared at him, stunned into silence. His usual arrogance was nowhere to be found. Instead, his eyes held a vulnerability you’d never thought possible.  

“Against the wall or chair?” you asked quietly, though your voice lacked conviction.  

“What?” he replied, widening his eyes, unsure of what you just said. Or if you said it. 

“Fucking.”You sighed, leaning into him despite yourself. “You said no one can fuck me like you can, so why don't you stop teasing me and fuck me straight to the point? Do me a favor.”

He closed the gap, his lips crashing into yours with a force that silenced every word, every thought. Your hands flew to his chest clutched at the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.

The kiss was desperate, messy, and full of everything you’d both left unsaid. It wasn’t soft or gentle—it was raw, fueled by frustration, passion, and the undeniable connection that had been building between you for far too long.

When you finally broke apart, your breathing was ragged, your forehead resting against his.

“I hate you,” you muttered, though the words came out weaker this time, almost a whisper.

Alex chuckled softly, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “No, you don’t. But I’ll let you keep saying it if it makes you feel better. And answering your question, I'll make you cum here and now. Is that good enough for you?” 

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours again. Your hands went to the hem of Alex’s shirt, taking it off his body, breaking the kiss only to pull the shirt over his head and throw it on the floor. He takes the opportunity to do the same with your shirt, sinking his fingers into your waist tightly to pull you closer for the kiss, and repeatedly nibbling on your lower lip.

You try to remove his belt while he pulls down your bra to access your breasts, squeezing them without the slightest gentleness. You were both angry and that was enough fuel for that desire to be explosive. When you managed to undo the belt and the button of your pants to lower it along with his underwear, Alex lifted the hem of your pencil skirt, rolling it up to your waist.

You moaned weakly when he pushed your panties aside and tried your clit with circular movements to spread your excitement so he could put his fingers at your entrance.

"Fuck, you're so fucking tight." He grunts, pushing two fingers up to the knuckles to start going in and out of it, soaking.

You moaned, feeling your bones go soft like jelly as you took his cock in your hands to jerk him off at the same speed his fingers fucked you.

“Alex, im not gonna last longer if you keep— fuck— like this.” You mewl, clenching on his fingers, sweaty forming across your erogenous face. 

“Fuck it. Come on my fingers, my slut.” He groaned, increasing the pace as he rocked his hips, but you slapped his face. He looked at you stunned, caressing his reddened cheek with his free hand. “Why the fuck you did that?”

“Don't fucking call me slut, Alex. I—hmmmm— still hate you.” you mewl, trembling and he took off his fingers, grinning watching you cry out. “Why’d you do that?”

“You won't cum if you keep talking to me like that.” He hoarses, thumb brushing gently over your bud. 

“You want me quiet? Make me, Alex.” You provoke, shutting by his hand slapping your thigh, placing it by his waist, secured by his strong hand. 

“I don't wanna you quiet, my little pretty slut. I want you screaming f’ me,” He breathed, pushing the tip inside unceremoniously making you moan loudly and anchor yourself into his neck, feeling all that pleasure making you feel boneless. “Yeah, just like this.”

You whined, Alex just captured your lips again while he swayed his hips back and forth deep inside you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, the kiss deepening with a passion that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.

“I told you. I'd make you feel good.” he groaned, breaking the kiss. Your breath hitched as his hand came up, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face, cupping your cheeks firmly to watch you still trying not to look crazy with pleasure as his size hit the right spot. “No one can make you feel good like that, no one deserves you more than me, no one can fuck you like I can, you hear me?”

You giggled, rolling your eyes, grinding on his cock. "Is that all, Alex? Anyone can do that. FUCK!" You screamed when he slapped your thigh. He brutally pulled out of you, turning you to face the wall.

"Alex, what are you doing? OH MY GOD." You yelled, feeling him put his cock back in to fuck you with much more force than before. You hurt his ego. You never would have thought how delicious he would feel thrusting like that.

“Better now?" he whispered in your ear, reaching up to pull your hair back, meeting your tear—stained, drool—streaked face, the perfect portrait for him. He planted a sweet kiss on your lips. "If you wanted me to fuck you hard—God—, all you had to do was ask, sweetie."

You whimpered, your body couldn't handle so much pleasure, you were falling and he noticed, chuckling softly in your ear, which made you shiver. "What's wrong? Gonna cum?"

"Please, Alex," You begged, shaking, your legs aching and you knew you were already marked red enough for everyone to see what you did. “Please, let me cum, please. Please, sweetie?”

He chuckled, driving his hand to pinch your nipples. “Will you—shit—say you're mine? Holy fuck, your pussy is delicious. Say it. Say you're mine.”

“I’m yours, only yours. Jesus.” You sobbed as shockwaves hit you. Alex held you, preventing you from falling with gentle care while you trembled, making his thrusts slow so you wouldn't fall.

“You have no idea how much I wanted to hear that.” 

He turned you around, picking you up easily like a ragdoll by his lap to lay you down on the dressing room sofa. He got on top, pecking your face affectionately while slowly pressing his length into your pussy. A soft lazy kiss came from his lips and you kissed him back, hands gripping on his shoulder as he penetrated you on a completely different level from seconds ago. 

“you can take a little more, can you?” he whispered on your face, nipping your bottom lip. You nodded, blissed out. Your late orgasm was still acting on you, tightening him up.

“Hmmm—keep going…yeah, Alex—just…just like that, baby.” you babbled, reaching the back of his neck to kiss him again with a gentle passion unknown for both of you. “do, that again, shit, shit…you're so fucking good f' me, Alex.”

“Oh, fuck. I should record you so you see how fucking hot you are sucking my cock with your perfect pussy.” He groaned, sitting on his knees, pushing you closer. You grinded, the position making his cock go even deeper in you. “Yeah, spread your legs. Let me see how much you love being fucked by me. Wider, doll.”

You bite your lips, obeying him, tightening your velvety walls purposely just to see him frowning in pleasure, opening his mouth delighted. “Is it good?” You teased innocently, doing it again.

“fuck, that was so hot. Do that again,” He grunted, ghosting his hands on your pearl to rub it slightly. You hummed, grinding on him. He used his other hand to slap your thigh, pushing you once more on a rapid rocking. You knew he was close judging by how sloppy his thrusts became.

“Faster—fuck, fuck—harder, Alex… hmmm…” you arch your back, feeling him doing as you ordered, burying his fingers into the soft skin of your waist.

"God, you feel so fucking good." He whimpered. "You hated me and now beg for me to fuck you harder? You're such a good slut. Here, take it, take it all, hun.Hmmm, m gonna cum inside you, is that what you want or youre dumb enough so you can't reply? My cock's shutted you finally? You're so sweet, baby, i love you. so much, mmm"

He hrew his head back, fucking himself to reach his own pleasure, slapping skins and wet sounds filled the moment, having you shivering. Fuck, you could live in this moment forever. He looked at you once more, reaching his peak. The hot strands hitting the bottom of your womb as he moaned on the last, resting his body on yours.

You remained silent, feeling hoarse as your chest rose and fell with heavy breathing. Alex curls were glued to his head as he looked at you smiling, kissing your lips sweetly. 

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together.  “I hate you,” you whispered again, though the words held no weight.  

He chuckled, his cheek warming up. “No, you don’t,” his voice warm and teasing.  

“You make me crazy, Alex.”   

“Good,” he murmured, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Because you drive me insane. Now let's get ready, I need to show you how much you nailed me in the presentation.”

“How?” You smiled. 

“Just saying how that judges are ass and they don't understand a single thing about reading articles just to give for a total weirdo like me.” he chuckled, pushing your body to raise but you pulled him back again on top of you. “What? You know I'll do anything for you.”

“I know. Don't mind.” You giggled, kissing him.“That shit is just popularity anyway. And I'll beat you at Friday's test.”

[mattsnight]

doing so good f’me - sub!chris

Warnings: (car) sex, cursing..

not proofread & english is not my first language<3

chris’ friends had been acting like dicks all night and he was tired. “dude.. just stop.” he muttered under his breath as his friends teased him for being absolutely whipped for you. they didn’t stop laughing and making fun of him, which made him snap. he took your hand and led you outside, into the car to get some peace.

he takes a deep breath the moment he sits down, trying to calm himself. he knew his reaction was somewhat dramatic, but he didn’t like the comments his friends made. it’s quiet for a moment, the two of you just sit there in the silence of the car.

your eyes slowly move up to meet his. “you know.. your friends are single right?” you say quietly. chris glances at you, a frown forming on his face. “oh, for sure.” he muttered through his still clenched jaw, taking another deep breath to try and relax a little.

“they can’t just go into the backseat and relieve some stress.” a small giggle leaves your lips as you find yourself getting worked up by your own words. chris practically groans, letting his head fall back against his seat. he really didn’t want to hear that, especially considering it’s his friends. he loved his friends but damn was he tired of their dumbass comments. “but you can,”

he looked back at you, a slight smirk forming on his lips. “you offering to distract me, baby?”

“maybe,” you say, your teeth sinking into your lip. the thought definitely helps him to feel a little better. he knew that he needed something to take his mind off of his friends being dickheads. “oh, yeah?” he says, raising a brow at you.

you simply nod. his eyes scan your face, his mouth curling into a smirk. “come on, baby. get back here then.” he smiles, his hands already reaching to grab you. you climb into the backseat quickly, waiting for him to come with. he follows after you, sitting up in the back. his eyes stayed fixed on you, watching every tiny movement you made.

chris leans against the door of the car, watching you taking off his shirt. the shirt is quickly off his body, leaving chris’ upper half naked. his hands move to your waist, holding you in place as he stares up at you. he helps you out of your own clothes. “god, you’re so beautiful, baby..” he mumbled, his hands gently rubbing your sides.

your hands move to his belt, taking it off. god, he loved it when you took full control. “fuck...” his hands moved to rest on your hips, squeezing them as he bit his lip. then suddenly, you let yourself sink down on his cock, the stretch feeling almost unreal.

chris lets out a long groan, his eyes closing in pleasure as you sit. he was so thankful that you were here with him, distracting him from his stupid friends. he keeps his hands on your hips, his fingers gripping you as he keeps up his noises of pleasure. he stares up at you through hooded eyes.

“your friends are in there.. fully drunk.. without pleasure while you’re here.”

“don't say that..” he practically moans out, his eyes rolling back. he couldn't be thinking of them right now. all he wants is to focus on you, not them. he hate that you had to bring that up right now. he was trying not to think about them. "just focus on me, baby.. don't focus on them.. mhh"

chris bites down on his lip as his eyes shoot open, staring up at you as he watched you move. his noises of pleasure grew louder, one of his hands holding onto your hip as the other gently moved towards your thigh. he stared up at you, his eyes full of need and pleasure. “you close, baby?” you ask him.

he nods his head quickly, his eyes closing once again. “yeah.. i'm close.. so close..” chris groaned out, his eyes closing tighter as his moans increased in volume.

“ah.. god, i'm gonna..” he was completely focused on you, his thoughts and attention all on you. “look at me, chris, or i’ll stop.” you say, slowing down. his eyes opened immediately. his breathing had gotten heavier, his moans rising in volume. he has an intense gaze on you, his eyes flicking to your lips as his lips parted.

you speed up again, not removing your gaze from his face. “doing so good f’me.. shitt..”

his eyes scans over you completely, his grip on you growing tighter as his moans grow louder. his eyebrows are knitted together and his lip is practically being chewed to shreds now as his moans reach a peak. “i'm-.. i'm close-“ he stares up at you with pure want and need, almost pleading you to let him go. chris was so close.

you speed up your movements. that is enough to send him over the edge. his hands stay tightly on your hips as his fingers dig into your skin. a long, loud moan escapes him, he’s sent over the edge. “f-fuck, baby.." he says, pulling out of you to cum all over your stomach. a small gasp leaves your mouth. “oh jesus… you did so good, baby.”

“mh.. need.. need more, mama..” he whines.

oh and he definitely got more.

sorry if this is ass:,)

[seedling-lotus]

...

despite being fully able to take a mental step back when I'm struggling and tell myself the logical answers for why, it doesn't really make any of it easier. Like... I accomplished very little this weekend. once again, i did not do my dishes. once again i did not do all of my laundry. once again i told myself i was going to do something one way and then just didn't do the thing at all. i failed to eat even though i told myself that i was going to do proper meals. I told myself i was going to stay hydrated and didn't really manage that at all. and logically i know... I know that I was in burnout to the point where my therapist had me leave work on medical leave. I know that during that leave I was not actually able to rest or recover because I couldn't go back to my old job and was stressed about finding a new one, and any time i did manage to rest at all I followed it immediately with being extremely productive for a single day and then spending a week recovering from that, and i know that when I managed to get a new job and start that new job earlier this month i was not miraculously cured from my burn out and that is a large part of why i am so tired right now, and i need to be kind to myself, but gods it's so fucking hard. I want to kick my own ass. I want to be able to just do it. and I know that that's stupid and ableist and not conducive to any sort of actual recovery but it just feels like.... I get a good thing going and then I just fuck it up again. I get a good sleep schedule that works for me and works with my job and then I throw it out and fuck everything up for weeks until I can get it back and then do it all over again. like, fuck, my new job is more physically demanding than my last one. I can do it, technically. I probably shouldn't, considering I still can barely get myself to consume 1 proper meal a day nevermind 3. I can barely bring myself to drink more than 12 oz of fluids in a given day. I know that i would be a lot more comfortable if I would just get inserts for my boots at work, but I haven't done that yet. Fuck, I drive past the fucking store on my ride home every day. It would take maybe 10 minutes to do, and yet... and yet. and that's everything. "it would take 10 minutes, and yet..." story of my fucking life.

fuck it, i'm just tired, and i'm already up way too late. i need to go to bed, but i'm trying to make myself finish my drink because i didn't really drink anything today.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

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