#that was ALWAYS going to be a barrier in their relationship

[zombiesthetic]

THOMAS HEWITT WITH A PLUS SIZE S/O . . .

pairing . . . thomas hewitt x plus size!fem reader

warnings . . . hoyt ( he needs his own warning ) , no insecurities or self doubt but mentions of having "bad days" because let's be real, we all have those days.

comments , likes , and reposts are appreciated !

★ let us be real for a moment. thomas would 100% love a woman who has some meat on her bones. someone he doesn't have to treat like fine china.

★ you have curves? he's running his hands over them.

★ you have hip dips? perfect place for him to put his hands.

★ you have nice, soft, plush thighs? it's a perfect place for him to rest his head after a long day of hunting and killing.

★ you have a soft stomach? another amazing place for him to rest his head. it's like his own personal pillow and he loves it.

★ oh. and don't ever let this man see you in a dress. your curves, your soft stomach, your wide hips, your full breasts that threaten to spill out of the top and sides, oh dear lord. it takes everything in him not to stop what he's doing, throw you over his shoulder, and take you to the basement to do ungodly things that luda mae would definitely not approve of.

★ luda mae would definitely talk to him about you having nice "birthing hips". it would confuse the hell out of him. how did she know you had nice birthing hips just by looking at them? but once that idea was planted in his head . . . it's game over.

★ he loves it when you sit in his lap. the feeling of your weight being on him makes his head go fuzzy. ad you better believe that if you don't put your full weight on him, he's tugging you down til you're fully seated.

★ he just loves you. he loves every single thing about you.

★ he loves you even when you have your bad days. you know the days where you don't feel your best? he's right by your side and in his own way, he's telling you he loves everything about you. sure, there's a huge conversation barrier, but you know what he's trying to say.

★ if hoyt even dares to make a snide comment, thomas is locked and loaded, ready to take his brother/uncle down to the basement to butcher him.

★ after a close encounter with tommy's chainsaw, hoyt never said anything again. at least not when tommy could hear him.

★ but all it takes is for you to threaten to tell tommy and hoyt is shutting his mouth. that man really doesn't want to become a victim.

★ when it comes to cuddling, tommy likes to be little spoon. nothing you say can change my mind.

★ after a long day of killing and butchering, all he wants is to lay down on top of you with his head buried in your chest while you run your hand though his dark curls.

★ he's so used to be forced to "be a man" by hoyt, he likes that he doesn't have to be a big macho man when he's with you.

★ of course, he'll put on a "i run this relationship" act in front of hoyt, but when it's just you two. man, is this boy whipped. you tell him to do something, it'll be done within the hour. and of course, it's the other way around too.

★ in the beginning you had to sit him down and tell him that relationships don't have an "owner" and a "pet" like hoyt had always told him.

★ because of hoyt's constant talk of how relationships are "supposed to be", tommy didn't really want to be in a relationship. he didn't like the idea of having to "own" someone.

★ but after you had a nice sit down conversation with him, he liked the idea of being in a 50/50 relationship. you respect and love him and he respects and loves you.

★ in reality, you had to teach tommy a lot of things. but the good thing is . . . tommy is a very fast learner. in more ways than one. *wink* *wink*

★ tommy is really good with his hands. no, not in that way. get your head out of the gutter.

★ if you liked a piece of jewelry one of the victims were wearing but it didn't fit you, tommy would craft it to fit you. you mentioned a ring you liked, but it was a few sizes too small? this man is cutting the band and making it adjustable.

★ you like a necklace but it doesn't quite fit your neck how you want it too? he's stealing a chain from another victim and adding it to the necklace so it'll fit you.

★ you liked a piece of clothing but it's too small? this man is cleaning his sewing machine and creating an entire new piece of clothing with you. ( after he has luda mae get the blood stains out because that woman is scarily good at getting blood stains out of things. )

★ his love language is acts of service and gift giving, obviously.

★ he likes doing things for you and he really loves giving you things.

★ after he's done working in the barn, during his walk back to the house, if he sees a flower that sprouted in the yard, he'll grab it and give it to you.

CREDITS . . . divider by @cafekitsune

MASTERLIST

[chaoticly-shy-dragon]

I'm back with more demigod dead boy detectives (parts one and two for those interested)! In short, Edwin is a son of Athena (born at the turn of the 20th century) who spent seventy years in the fields of punishment by accident - after he escaped it was 1989 and most of the gods had moved to America of all places.

And despite all that, St Hilarion was still functioning as a demigod heaven. Edwin is not happy. At all.

Charles on the other hand is having an interesting time all around. The backstory for him that I came up with starts from before he was born. The OG pjo au that I read had his father be Ares and yes?! I adore the Frank Zang of him?

But his mom and Ares didn't click in my mind until I realized that Ares is in an on-and-off relationship with Aphrodite - who is cutting and sharp and tough but also soft and ditsy and a bit shallow. His past lovers don't all need to be veterans or kickboxers. It was an eureka moment, to be honest.

Charles' mom (name still in the works) met Ares in a museum showcasing ancient pottery and jewelry - some of them Greek - most of which depicted old heroic tales or bore the scars of the years. They started talking completely by chance - Aphrodite had stood Ares up and he didn't feel like going back to what he was doing. He decided to check this collection out - to reminisce or to try and remember fallen friends. Or just to sulk. Either way, he was there.

Charles's future mom sees him and the conflicting aesthetic of his clothing and the display he was looking at makes her want to talk with him. They hit it off. He asks to see her again and the rest is history.

They are together for four months before she gets pregnant. As expected from a god, Ares disappears from her life with only a few words. Charles's mom is left alone with a baby, in a shitty apartment with no family in the country.

It sucks. Like a lot.

Then she meets Paul Richard Rowland.

(I'm sorry but I can't do Paul's name dirty in a pjo au, I just can't. Although the irony was amusing enough to make me consider it for a whole second.)

They hit it off even with the occasionally crying baby in the next room. Soon they are engaged to be married - and married soon afterward. Charles's last name is changed and would you look at that - a happy family.

Not.

Charles is a charming and athletic boy with a love for ska and a bit of a temper. His dad is a cunt and his mom is quiet. That's fine until it isn't.

In an argument, it gets out that Richard isn't Charles's actual father (he is 14 when that happens). Stuff gets progressively worse after that (both with Richard and with the monsters - Richard's whole "something is wrong with you" really drives in the "I am different" mindset you really don't want in an untrained demigod) until Charles' mom gets desperate and contacts the boarding school - Ares had assured her that it would always have a spot for Charles.

(The phone number is that of the school board of all the still functioning demigod establishments. Had Charles been a girl they would have referred the mom to one of the all-girls or mixed schools. It's a system run by descendants, wind spirits and satyrs.)

((It's not as efficient as say sending satyrs to schools, but they only have so many satyrs. They do the guardian routine! Honest!))

Fast forward and Charles has been to St Hil for almost a year and a half. He is a semi-full-year camper in the sense he went home once for one summer and then only for two to three days a year.

He gets along with his siblings and the cricket team. He is friendly and nice but 80s racism and classist bullshit exist - he can't be too vocal with his thoughts and opinions less he is ostracized by his peers, he has to play a role he only has half the script of. The demigod thing isn't always a blessing.

He is a deft hand with daggers and knives, he is skilled with a sword - but he would prefer to play cricket or go to concerts. No magical barrier means nightly patrols and the occasional monster attack.

Cue the death scene. It plays like canon but with weapons. He is chased into the freezing lake by his siblings and his former mates. (And Charles had been so excited about having siblings - but this - they - he couldn't call brothers.)

There aren't any naiads during the winter - or they are sleeping deep into it. No one intervenes. He manages to escape his pursuers by going deeper into the woods until he comes across an old shed.

Charles goes in.

(He didn't hear the sharp snap of twigs and branches in the other direction of the one he was going. He didn't notice the second pair of footsteps shadowing his own.)

((He does see the lantern.))

And they finally meet. Isn't it grand? (TBC)

[finderseeker]

@leucoratia Thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk about him even more

First off, I’m glad this solution seems to be such a hit!! I just couldn’t reconcile the character WD was becoming/had become with what we know of Gaster. So this works well!!! (Despite the questions it raises meta-wise.)

*Rubs my hands together evilly* Okay SO! WD and his relationship with Grandpa here. I haven’t completely decided on anything just yet but I do have some Ideas. Some Notions if you will.

I think there’s pressure to get into the field from family, yes. But I don’t think it was necessarily negative pressure, if that makes sense. Like, I’m not sure it was the kind of thing where they would have been disapproving or upset if he chose some other career, per se. More that they didn’t even consider the possibility that he would choose anything else. Sans is a physicist, Papyrus is an engineer/mechanic/something like that, and they’re both very smart, but WD, oh, he’s the prodigy. He’s the golden child, even for all his quirks and rarities. An anxious disposition and weirdly long tail and unusual font and cracked lip aside, he’s got so much going for him!

I think that, likely, in their efforts to ensure that he didn’t feel any different than anyone else regarding disposition and physical traits/limitations, and that he knew he was ✨special✨ because he’s so smart, his parents probably made it all worse, actually. Not acknowledging that he was, in fact, different and unusual only made him feel more invisible. Which of course made him feel bad, because he was the main focus of his family’s attention. (‘How can I be unsatisfied with when I get so much attention compared to my brothers? Am I just spoiled?’)

He felt he had no time to goof around, no time to play, because he ought to be studying and learning more. ‘Why, with a mind like that, he surely takes after his grandfather in more than just font! Perhaps he will be the next Royal Scientist!’ said everyone. Which, y’know, gets to you as a kid.

While it was only ever meant to be encouraging, the pressure to live up to that was overwhelming. It’s not just that he’s named after his grandfather, it's not just an abstract sentiment for skeletons. He’s got his font. Which, apparently, suggests some other similarities. He’s always The Serious One among his brothers because they’re always goofing off (from his POV anyway) when they should be working! How can they be so lackadaisical? The fate of all monsters rests on them helping their grandfather; how can they be so relaxed just because they aren’t on the clock? Is their pay the only thing that matters to them!? They should be endeavoring to find solutions at all times!

So. Yeah. His mindset is very much shaped by the idea that it’s his responsibility to use his abilities to help others. It’s not as simple as letting his family down. What he wants has never been a factor in the equation, and so he doesn’t linger on it. The way he exists has already dictated his life course. It’s as simple as that. It’s not out of love for others— whether his family specifically or monsterkind at large— but rather out of obligation and responsibility. He does not feel a particularly strong affection towards monsters in general. (The opposite, actually.) He has never seen the surface, and frankly, with as dangerous as humans are, he doesn’t entirely understand why or agree with the idea that getting up there would be a good thing to begin with. But breaking the barrier is the goal that’s been put in front of him, and so that’s what he works towards. Along with the supposedly more achievable goal of “helping people,” despite that being an incredibly vague and nebulous concept with no real direction.

He’s got this whole complex about what he’s supposed to be. No one is actually stopping him from being anything else, but the barriers he’s erected in his own mind feel immovable. If he has all of this ability, how could he not use it? Everyone is relying on him to be as brilliant as his grandfather and carry this mantle, but no one understands the pressure he’s under. No one understands anything! Even Papyrus, who practically never sleeps, doesn’t appreciate why he can’t just “take a break.” If he doesn’t accomplish something, he will never be free from these expectations!

I think deep down that’s why he kind of idolizes sci-fi supervillains? All the intelligence, all the means, and they use it for their own interests! They are beholden to no one, only themselves, and even the “heroes” can never stop them for good. Sometimes, the villains have better motivations than the heroes, even. I think WD’s fantasy, subconscious or not, is being able to go completely off the rails and create and do something utterly selfish. He has some bizarre resentment, I think, against people in general. Maybe it’s envy, in the sense that they lack the burden he does. Maybe it’s some kind of frustration that they’re all just standing around, twiddling their thumbs and waiting for some kind of “salvation” from either the king or from them, the scientists responsible for every other quality of life. If this solution needs to be found so desperately, why is it being left to so few people!? Why aren’t study of human magic and other magical-scientific disciplines a required field in schools? Why is there not a requirement that all who are able work on this pressing issue!?

So. He’s got this buried, probably subconscious resentment. He’s always irritated because of it. It feels like he’s the only one taking this seriously, and therefore the only one who can do anything about it. Rather than be reassured that no one is forcing this on him, his perception is that because no one else will “take it seriously” (read: “work ceaselessly”), it must fall to him. He has to. Because otherwise it will always be hanging over his head.

Now. Grandpa Gaster definitely doesn’t approve of… any of this. (In general, not the supervillain thing. WD is taking that secret to the grave.) Gaster encourages him to take breaks and not work himself so hard. Unfortunately, despite his kindness and reassurance, WD only sees that as, “Look, this is so simple for him that he doesn’t even need to exert effort! He thinks I’m far more capable than I am, he must think I’m accomplishing more than I actually am. I have to work harder so that I can reach that level and live up to this.”

Yeah.

Gaster is quite caught up in his own work, and although he cares very much for his grandsons, I don’t think he’s entirely… connected with them. He doesn’t realize what WD is putting himself through, entirely. He just sees a bright, like-minded young man with a strong work ethic and a love for helping others! Even if he’s a bit prickly and perhaps embarrassed about it. But he’ll come around! Young people are so caught up in how they’re perceived by others; surely WD will mellow as he ages.

(Spoiler: he doesn’t. Or, he doesn’t really get the chance to.)

The biggest difference between them is that Gaster is doing this because he loves people and he loves his work. All his efforts are a labor of love. For monsters, for unity, for freedom, for the universe. WD is doing this because he feels that he must. He is not especially moved by love. He doesn’t gain a sense of purpose from this, he only feels burdened.

Gaster doesn’t quite… pick up on this. I think he would love to have a warm relationship with his grandsons, and prooooobably does more with Sans and Papyrus. WD, meanwhile, has so many self-inflicted mental barriers and blocks and restrictions and obligations that he’s created this artificial distance between them. It really, really doesn’t need to be this way, but unfortunately our perception shapes our reality, and the stronger a person believes something to be a certain way— that is, the less open they are to being wrong— the stronger they shape their reality. Someone like Gaster, who is open to different interpretations and understandings and so on, is more likely to see reality for what it is— but even he’s not infallible, because he is a singular person who has his own experiences and therefore his own perception. He thinks WD is just “at that age” (whatever that means) and is simply trying to prove something or is overly worried about what other people think of him, and that it will pass with time. He doesn’t understand that WD is torturing himself over pressure that isn’t even real.

He thinks it's so wonderful that WD wants to work with him and spend time with him, and oh, he's such a bright young man, he will surely accomplish so much! He's so proud of him.

WD is... not really capable of accepting love (in the form of acceptance or pride) from others right now, because I think he feels like he has yet to earn it, maybe? He's got this impossible standard he's trying to reach,* and he's depriving himself of everything until he can get there. (Which will be never.) He's miserable and it's all self-inflicted. It doesn't even need to be this way. ((He and Seeker (the character) have this in common I think…))

He does love his family. He loves his brothers and his parents (probably?) and his grandfather and his cousin(s). He loves them way more than he'd ever admit out loud. He's exasperated that none of them seem to Get It, but he's so convinced that he's the only one who's right that there's really no telling him otherwise. He doesn’t even know what he wants, only that he doesn’t have it and can’t have it. (Except, he can, of course, if he would just freaking calm down for a second.)

The funny (or sad) thing is that if he could just get past this thing he’s got in his mind, he’d be a much happier, more fulfilled person. If he weren’t busy stressing himself out and running himself ragged (and actually making his own anxiety worse in the process), he’d be a warm, conscientious person and a loving, attentive partner. As it stands, he’s Stress Response Central and essentially is slowly cutting himself off from the people who care about him, rather than rely on them. (This potentially includes Asteri, but their relationship is a whooole different post.)

If he keeps on this path, one of two things is going to happen: he’s either going to end up killing himself (or worse) by falling into the same thing that shattered Gaster in some desperate last-ditch attempt to Fix Everything; or he’s going to crack (no pun intended) under the pressure and burn out in an absolute fireball of metaphorical explosives.

And from the outcome where he doesn’t die/end up meeting a similar fate as his grandfather, there are two outcomes.

So, he’d burn himself out gifted kid style, but like several times worse. Has a complete breakdown and it resigns him to being stuck at home/in bed recovering his mental and emotional energy. But also being extremely depressed and probably rotting a little bit. And isolating even more, honestly.

The good ending would be him slowly recovering and making peace with not being The Only One Who Can Fix Everything, and maybe not even staying in the same field of work (if he can work anymore). The good ending also involves him being on good terms with Tempus again. (But that’s an entire can of worms I’m not touching here.) If he’s anything like me, it’s gonna take a few years (minimum) of rest and recovery after pushing himself that hard. I would not be surprised if he causes some permanent damage to himself (either mentally/emotionally or physically) that renders him unable to work/do what he used to.

The bad ending is that he rots in bed and wallows in depression and mourns the fact that he “wasn’t good enough” to stand up under the weight of everything and Fix It. And he just. stays like that. Isolating himself more and more, refusing to talk even to his brothers. And also Tempus still hates him. And that’s it that’s his whole life. The rest of it is spent mourning and regretting and reliving every decision that got him here, reflecting on all the things he deprived himself of in pursuit of his goal, only to fail and end up unable to have those things now that he has all the in the world. Self-deprivation of pleasure or enjoyment or rest, and for what? To break down under the weight of it all and have none of it anyway. He should have enjoyed what he was offered when he had the chance to accept it.

Anyway, as you can see I have a lot of feelings and thoughts about him (and this isn’t even all of them). I doubt that he resents his grandfather, but I do think that with the way things end up, he feels like a disappointment to him and there’s really no way to ever be assured otherwise because Gaster’s gone by that point. But I guess that’s part of the point, really: that you’ve gotta be okay with where you are so long as you’re doing what you can (to a reasonable degree), even if it disappoints other people. I think WD needs a lot of things but honestly I don’t even know how to begin to help him. He needs to go on vacation.

On an ENTIRELY unrelated note, I may have come up with a really funny (read: “stupid”) solution to the problem mentioned in the second half of the tags on this post.

Which isn’t what I wanted to focus on. I need to work on the stuff I already have going. But. It would be funny and unfortunately sometimes that’s the most compelling thing.

I will elaborate on what this possible solution is tomorrow.

[mutalune]

I am an aziraphale stan and anyone who thinks his choice at the end of s2 is “wrong” or “stupid” is my enemy I’m afraid to say

[amazingspider-z]

Continuing to be back on my bullshit, I'm rounding out the year with the next installment of my Blue Beetle au nonsense or.

AKA @wazzappp 's Blue Beetle headcanons give me life and I'm yoinking them because. Everyone deserves a little body horror. As a treat.

(Well. Except for Oo'Li, by virtue of being the type of alien (yk more or less) that the scarabs are using for that sweet sweet basic DNA template)

Anyway, following my timeline of Jaime ending up with his second 'upgrade' after the reboot re: Khaji Da's last ditch effort to keep him from smashing into the ground of terminal velocity, Xiomara and Roma end up more buggified after their altercation with the Crimson Scarab in issue...2? I think, when their powers get drained, in the same vein of their scarabs getting inventive with ways for their hosts to defend themselves in power drain scenarios.

In keeping with their power-sets/specialities, Roma ends up with a scorpion-esque tail (yes ik that's not an insect but if she can manifest tentacles Im saying it counts) and retractable claws, while Xiomara has fully armored hands/gauntlets and extra insectoid legs

[frobby]

Romance manga with a fat mc/love interest: :D

They were only fat because of trauma and now that theyre in a relationship theyre skinny: :(

[franeridan]

came to the conclusion that the reason why aventio has such a strong hold on me these days is that they're the highest purest greatest dumbest form of "I have feelings for you" (that feeling was friendship, but neither had ever experienced it before) and I find that stupidly compelling atm

[martyrbat]

the homoeroticism of sharing a cigarette while overlooking a city you both want to save and are willing to sacrifice everything to do so while desperately clinging to the hope you both can somehow still live to see another sunrise.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

like hearing an autistic person talking abt realizing like "oh so friendships for some ppl don't involve always having to maintain a performance" and going damn right yeah and now "oh so friendships for some ppl involve their getting to expect that the other ppl will be interested in them and provide support" like huh go figure. more surprising like oh right i guess i always felt like interactions require maintaining a performance that can only go wrong (generally true; like there's no "well you're ruining things by keeping ppl from being the Real You so just Be Yourself" like a] masking isn't Real or done by Yourself or b] like if you unmask people like you now & ableism is over, b/c it was your fault for reacting to it in the first place) & thus also that i should be interested & provide support but not expect that in turn / the sense as well that you are/can only come up short and have things to make up for anyways while lucky whoever's even providing the time of day

then it's always an Exercise to go "oh right well beyond going [my god autistic character] the whole time, what Things re: winston billions was i still not quite seeing as as unusual / Not Good as they are. even for billions" like sure noticing he's holding on to the hopes of some kind of positive / actual relationship w/rian for like year 950 & this manifesting with the Determined Friendliness but zooming in like oh i guess that adamant amicability sure involves winston suppressing a negative reaction to negative treatment and yet still hoping for an improvement, which like, was always Possible but a) hinged on rian simply choosing to change how she regards/treats him (or someone intervening to change the situation) & b) apparently is not going to happen. thinking like yeah that's very Friendly of him. and knowing like man winston's sure still trying to keep this friendliness offer open for like two years. but also now more specifically going like Yeah and pretty fucked then that his baseline expectations don't include that Mutual Interest & Support (though someone being abusive is definitely interested just not in any good ways. and certainly not (actually) supportive)

[graevs666]

i want affection and connection w someone but im also just so disheartened and disappointed by ppl…

[jrueships]

maxeys chart 😭😭

[arlathen]

the brainrot has gotten deep enough that i now have professors solavellan modern au on the mind again.

[candy69gurl]

MISSING MOM? NAH

PAIRING Step dad!Gojo Satoru x gn!reader, Step dad!Toji Fushiguro x gn!reader, Step dad!Nanami Kento x gn!reader, Step dad!Geto Suguru x gn!reader, Step dad!Sukuna x gn!reader, Step dad!Shiu Kong x gn!reader, Step dad!Hiromi Higuruma x gn!reader, Step dad!Kamo Choso x gn!reader [seperate]

SYNOPSIS You've been missing your mum on Mother's Day, but stepdad is here to help you feel better. So he offers you his titties to suck on some consolation

WARNING stepcest, pre-established relationship, comfort, m!nipple sucking biting pinching, m!cumming in pants tits & hands, f!nipple playing and sucking, dry humping, handjob, reader asking for milk (Heian Sukuna lol), m!masturbation, m!overstimulation

NOTE this one's requested by my dear @imhellakawai.. We're just girls (with daddy issues) ... I laughed a lot while writing this.. Some people may find the contents unpleasant. Simply block and move on; please do not make disparaging remarks about me or report my post; if you do, prepare to get trolled by my moots. Please read the warnings and do not do this at home (duh).

◈ SATORU GOJO

Gojo enters the house. He's just returned from a mission. A mission on Mother's Day, of all days, had been a particularly cruel twist of fate. But it's not the praise or adrenaline that he's met with. Instead, the sound of sobbing fills the room as you pounce on him, your cries tearing at his heart..

"Hey, hey, baby," he says softly, kneeling in front of you. He gathers you into his arms, hugging you close. "It's okay, I'm here now."

You cling to him, the sadness and longing for your mother clear in your voice. "I miss mommmmmmmmm, pls daddy .. I need mommy," you wail, your body shaking with sobs.

He picks you up, cradling you in his arms as he blindly stumbles through the house, murmuring comforting words. "I know, I know, baby. It's tough without her. But I'm here for you, okay? I'll always be here for you."

Once he reaches your room, he closes the door behind him, enveloping you both in privacy and quiet. He lays you gently down onto your bed, following after you to sit beside you.

His hand reaches out, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek, wiping away the tears that continue to slip down. "You don't have to be sad," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "You have me. I'll be here for you, every step of the way."

Knowing that he can't replace your mother, Gojo draws strength from the idea that he can be there for you in his own way. He can't change the past, but he can make the present and future as comforting as possible.

Gojo scoots over next to you on the bed, gently laying you down. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to his body, feeling your warmth and softness against him.

His heart aches for you, knowing how much you miss your mother. He kisses the top of your head, whispering softly, "I'll take you to your favorite restaurant tomorrow, promise baby. I'll spend the whole day with you. We'll go to the park, maybe take a walk through the city, and have as much fun as we can."

His voice is soothing, his promise of tomorrow's happiness a balm for your wounded heart. You start to relax in his arms, the weight of your sorrow lightening as he whispers sweet things in your ear.

"Sleep now, baby," he says, his hand gently stroking your hair. "I'll be right here."

Gojo drifts off to sleep, exhausted from his mission and the emotional weight of the day. He's still wearing his uniform, which now seems to serve as a barrier between him and the comfort of sleep.

In the middle of the night, your eyes flutter open, your sleep disturbed by the sight of Gojo, still and serene, his features soft in slumber. A pang of love and tenderness fills you, making you want to make sure he's as comfortable as possible.

Quietly, you reach out, your fingers working at the buttons of his uniform, unfastening it bit by bit. You're careful not to disturb him, your movements gentle and calculated. Once you've freed him from the confines of the uniform, leaving him in just his shirt and trousers.

You nestle your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in deep, the scent of him enveloping you. Your hands slip under the hem of his shirt, resting on his skin. They travel up his neck, then down to his chest, your fingers tracing the contours of his muscles.

The sensation of his skin under your touch ignites something within you, a desire to explore, to connect. You unbutton his shirt, revealing his firm chest. You glance up at him, gauging his sleep. He's still deeply unconscious.

With a newfound bravery, you lean forward, your tongue darting out to trace the curve of one of his nipples. The sensation is electric, a shiver running down your spine. You close your lips around it, sucking gently, your tongue teasing it.

His hand comes up, wrapping around the back of your head, pulling you closer. His fingers thread through your hair, a soft moan escaping his lips. His other hand slides down your back, gripping your hip firmly.

Gojo's reaction spurs you on, your mouth traveling between his nipples, your tongue playing with them. You're lost in the sensations, the taste of him, the warmth of his skin. You're learning, but more than that, you're basking in the intimacy of the moment.

Gojo suddenly bursts into laughter, the sound filling the room. "Baby, what are you trying to do?" he says, the amusement in his voice apparent.

You pull back, flustered, your cheeks turning red with embarrassment. You realize he's awake now, and you hadn't even noticed. "I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.." Your voice trails off, unsure how to explain your actions.

Gojo's expression softens, his hand cupping the back of your head. "Baby, you've been missing mommy so bad that sucking on daddy's nipples is making you feel better?" He doesn't scold you for what you've done, for taking matters into your own hands. Instead, he pulls you back against his chest, his tone gentler now.

"Go on," he murmurs, his fingers tangling in your hair. "I'm liking it." He presses your face against his chest, encouraging you to continue. The approval in his voice, the warmth of his body, it calms the storm within you, reassuring you that you're not in trouble, that he's happy to share this intimate moment with you.

You resume your actions, your lips and tongue worshiping Gojo's nipples. Your eyes remain locked on his face, watching in the dim light as his cheeks flush with color, his pink petite nipples hardening beneath your touch. Your gaze drops, noticing his bulge against his pants, the outline of his erection straining against the fabric.

As your mouth works on his nipples, his hands reach down, rubbing at himself through his pants. You notice the way he's whimpering, twitching under your ministrations. You seize the moment, pushing him onto his back before climbing on top of him. Your hips grind against his hardening member, your mouth still busy on his nipple.

Gojo whimpers, trying to tell you to slow down, but you take it as encouragement, sucking even harder. Your tongue flicks over his nipple, and you gently nibble at it. You switch to the other nipple, repeating the motions, teasing him.

He tries to pry you off with his hands, gripping your hair gently, but you're determined, not letting him stop you. You pinch both nipples, twisting them between your fingers. Gojo arches his back, cumming through his pants, the evidence dampening the fabric.

Gojo gasps, his eyes wide, "Oh my, what a bad girl you are." Despite the teasing tone, there's an underlying sense of pride, of admiration, in his voice.

You purr, satisfied with the reaction you've elicited. You scoot closer to him, pressing kisses to his cheeks before snuggling into his arms. The warmth of his body envelops you, the rhythm of his breaths lulling you into a peaceful slumber. This time, you sleep soundly in his embrace, the ache in your heart starting to fade away.

◈ TOJI FUSHIGURO

The day stretches on, your sadness a tangible weight. Mother's Day is a cruel reminder of the loss that haunts you, the constant ache palpable as you sit on the couch, your phone providing a window to the world of mother-daughter relationships.

Toji notices your distress, the wetness on your cheeks and the tremble in your shoulders, but he remains silent, giving you space while he goes about his own business. It isn't until you let out a soft whimper that he can't bear your pain any longer.

"Come on ya, don't be a cry-baby now," he says gently, his voice a gentle reprimand. "You're much older." His tone is laced with affection, the concern evident in his eyes.

You cover your face with your arms, the humiliation of being seen in such a vulnerable state bubbling up inside you. "I'm sorry," you mumble, trying to hide your shame.

Toji approaches, his large frame casting a shadow over you as he sits down next to you. He slides an arm under your neck, pulling you onto his thighs, your head resting on his lap. His hand starts to work its way through your hair, a comforting and gentle gesture.

"It's okay," he reassures you, his thumb stroking your temple. "It's normal to miss her. I miss her too." His words are a balm, his touch soothing as you allow yourself to be consoled, the weight of the day slowly lifting.

Toji gently removes your hands from your face, taking the opportunity to wipe away the tears that cling to your eyes. His gaze is filled with compassion, the understanding in his eyes a testament to his own grief.

Without warning, you pull his head towards you, your lips capturing his in a tender kiss. Toji is caught off guard at first, but he returns the gesture, the comfort of human connection a balm for your sorrow.

You move from kissing his lips to the scar near his lips, your lips lingering on the familiar mark. When your sobbing subsides, you pull away from him, the desire for retribution sparking within you.

"You called me a cry-baby!" you retort, your voice tinged with indignation. In a sudden burst of energy, you pounce on Toji, straddling him on the couch. Your hands reach for his sides, your fingers dancing in a feeble attempt to tickle him.

Toji smirks, his hands wrapped around your waist, thwarting your efforts to tickle him. "It's true, you are a baby," he teases, the mocking light in his eyes intensifying.

Determined to make him pay for his mockery, you shift your focus to his chest, your teeth finding purchase on his nipple through his black tshirt. The action is bold, the bite hard enough to leave a mark.

Surprisingly, instead of the expected yelp, Toji lets out a low moan, the sound hanging in the air between you. The unexpected reaction leaves both of you momentarily stunned, the implications of your actions heavy in the room.

Toji releases his grip on you, clearing his throat awkwardly. You look at him, confusion clouding your expression, your tongue darting out to wet your lips.

With a swift motion, you raise his tshirt, exposing his chest, and immediately set about sucking on his nipples. His eyes widen, his composure slipping a little at the sudden, intense attention you're lavishing on him.

Despite his attempts at restraint, Toji's arousal is evident, his erection straining against the confines of his pants. The way you tease him, alternating between sucking and licking his nipples, is tantalizing, making it increasingly difficult for him to ignore your advances.

Then, without warning, you take it a step further. Your teeth bite down on his nipple, following it up with a painful pinch. The resulting sound that escapes Toji's lips is a mixture of pain and pleasure.

The line between what's acceptable and inappropriate has been crossed, and Toji can no longer hold back. His hands grab you, forcefully pulling you off his chest and forcing you onto your back. Without hesitation, he lifts your shirt, exposing your sensitive breasts.

"Quit, brat. Now it's time for payback," he growls, his voice laced with a mix of dominance and desire. His mouth descends on your nipple, his tongue flicking against the hardened nub while his hand reaches for his pants, freeing his erection.

He strokes himself leisurely, his gaze never leaving your flushed face as he continues to suck on your nipples.

You moan softly, the sensations coursing through you leaving you breathless. You attempt to pull him away, but Toji remains resolute, his mouth firmly latched onto your nipple.

As his hand works his cock in tandem with his mouth on your chest, the tension between you builds. Your moans grow more desperate, the pleasure-pain of his actions leaving you both bewildered and intoxicated.

Finally, the dam breaks. Toji lets out a shuddered groan, his seed spilling onto your chest. The warmth coats your skin, the result of your actions etched on your body.

He releases hsi grip on your body, his breathing heavy, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of satisfaction and awe. The intimacy of the act is undeniable, the world beyond the confines of the room fading into insignificance.

You stare at the mess he's left on your tits, the implications of your actions sinking in. The dynamic between the two of you has shifted, the boundaries you've pushed a testament to the newfound uncharted territory you now occupy.

You sigh heavily, the weight of your grief bearing down on you once more. "Ghhh, I miss mom," you say again, your voice tinged with bitterness.

Toji lets out a frustrated sound, his hand coming up to slap his forehead. "For the love of God, shut up," he groans, his tone laced with exasperation.

◈ NANAMI KENTO

You tiptoe into Nanami's room, your eyes red and puffy from crying. He looks up from his book, concern etched on his face, as he notices your state. He sets the book aside, rushing to your side. Nanami kneels before you, placing a hand on your knee, "Honey, sweetheart, why are you crying?"

Your voice shaky, you tell him. "Today's Mother's Day, and I miss mom." Tears stream down your cheeks once more, the pain of missing your mother overwhelming you.

Nanami's eyes soften, and he feels a pang of sadness for your loss. "Come here, sweetheart. Tonight, you're sleeping with me. We can cuddle the pain away." He helps you up, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you close.

You cling to him, grateful for the comfort he offers. Nanami leads you to the bed, gently laying you down. He adjusts the covers, tucking you in before climbing in beside you. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you against his chest. You rest your head on his shoulder, feeling safe and comforted by his presence.

Nanami begins to hum a soft tune, caressing your hair gently. The rhythmic motion lulls you into a sense of calm, your sobs subsiding. You nuzzle closer, enjoying the warmth and security his embrace provides. As the night wears on, his reassuring touch and the sound of his heartbeat slowly lull you to sleep, your heart heavy, but not quite as broken.

Feeling safe and snuggled against Nanami, you begin to drift off to sleep. Your eyes flutter closed, but something catches your attention. As you lay against Nanami's chest, you notice that his shirt buttons are ajar, and his nipples are exposed.

A shiver runs down your spine as your mind wanders what if I- and without a moment's hesitation, you lunge forward, getting on top of him. You wrap your lips around one of his nipples, sucking gently. Your tongue flicks against it, and a soft moan escapes your lips.

Nanami's grip on you tightens, momentarily stunned by your sudden, bold action. His brow furrows, but he allows you to continue for a few moments before whispering, "Do you miss mommy this bad?"

You pause, unsure of how to respond, but the wanton desire you feel doesn't abate. You nuzzle against him, smiling into his chest before continuing your play with his nipple.

Nanami's hands travel to your hair, gripping it tightly as he lets out an involuntary moan. "Gosh… stop now, tis' too much," he commands, his voice thick with desire.

You ignore his plea, unbuttoning more of his shirt to expose the other nipple. You switch to that one, sucking it hungrily as Nanami's moans grow louder. His breathing quickens, and you can feel the need building in him.

"Sweetheart, I c-can't anymore," he begs, the desperation in his voice unmistakable. You look up at his face, smiling devilishly as you see the strain in his pants. You realize he's on the verge of losing control, and he frees his cock, stroking it gently as you continue to suck his nipple.

Nanami's moans grow louder, and his breathing becomes more erratic. You can feel the tension in his body, and he finally cums, moaning as he strokes himself. You continue sucking even after his orgasm subsides, enjoying the reactions you've elicited.

Nanami pries you off this time, his hands firmly but gently removing your mouth from his nipple. "What the hell were you doing?" he asks, a mixture of amusement, surprise, and arousal in his voice. You look up at him, your eyes full of childish innocence, before planting a kiss on his nose.

You giggle, snuggling close to him once more, your arms wrapping around him. You drift off to sleep, nestled against his body, content in the afterglow of invasion of his nipples.

◈ GETO SUGURU

The day's significance weighs heavy on your heart, a constant reminder of the void left by your mother's absence. You resist the urge to break down in tears, not wanting to burden Suguru with your sorrows.

Yet, as the day progresses, the weight of your emotions becomes too much to bear. Suguru notices the change in your demeanor, his keen senses picking up on your distress.

Confronting you, he demands an explanation for your unsettled state, refusing to be brushed off. You hesitate, unsure of how he'll react. But in the end, the yearning to share your feelings with someone overwhelms your fear.

Your voice wavers as you confess your longing for your mother. The confession hangs heavily between you, the vulnerability on display a stark contrast to the usual power dynamic.

To your surprise, Suguru doesn't scoff or mock you. Instead, his laughter is tinged with sympathy, a rare display of emotion from him.

"It's alright, Y/N," he says, gently guiding you into his embrace. "I know what it's like to miss someone. Even sorcerers lose their loved ones."

His arms wrap around you, comforting you in a way that is both unexpected and welcome. The warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart meld with the rhythm of your own, creating a temporary haven from the world.

The tears you've been holding back finally spill over, the weight of your sorrows lightening with each drop. In this moment, your monkey status ceases to matter, and you're simply the non-sorcerer girl he loves the most.

As tears stream down your face, your fingers tighten around his gojogesa. When you finally glance up, you're met with Geto's unexpectedly kind gaze. "You know.. I'm a bit like your mother too, don't you think?" he gently suggests. You shake your head, unable to comprehend. He then adopts a playful pout, asking, "Why do you need your mother when you have me?"

You wipe your tears, your fingers leaving damp trails across your face. Caught off guard by the kindness in Suguru's eyes, you hesitate before responding.

Your thoughts whirl, searching for an answer to his question. "I don't know," you admit, your voice small and unsure. "It's just..." Your words trail off, unable to articulate the feelings that bind you to your mother.

Suguru pouts, a childish expression that softens the severity of his features. His gaze remains fixed on you, waiting for you to continue.

Your gaze lingers on his chest, drawn to the unseen nipples beneath the fabric. You swallow, a faint blush creeping up your neck. Your eyes focusing on the area you've found out, your curiosity piqued by the hardened nubs nestled beneath his clothing. Swallowing hard, you gather your courage and ask, "Can I touch these?"

He chuckles, the sound pleasant in your ears. Suguru unties the sash of his gojogesa, letting it fall open to reveal his bare chest. "Go ahead," he encourages, his voice low and commanding.

At first, you hesitate, the proximity to his skin making you feel self-conscious. Slowly, you reach out, your fingers trembling as they brush against his nipples. The sensitivity of the flesh causes his body to shudder.

Encouraged by his reaction, you apply gentle pressure, watching as his nipples react to your touch. They harden further, a stark contrast against his smooth skin.

Suguru's eyes close, the pleasure evident in the soft moan that escapes his lips. His chest rises and falls with every breath, the intimacy of the moment overwhelming.

Your curiosity leads you to act without thinking, your lips capturing one of his nipples. The sudden warmth and wetness surprise Suguru, his hand instinctively moving to caress your hair.

He holds back a surprised laugh, allowing you to continue. As you suck gently, his breathing deepens, his body reacting to the unanticipated stimuli. The sensation of your mouth against his nipple proves to be more sensitive than he'd imagined, and he can feel the stirrings of arousal in his loins.

His cock starts to swell, the fabric of his clothes straining to contain it. The hardening flesh presses against your thigh, a testament to your newfound skill.

Suguru's hold on your hair tightens, the pleasure coursing through his body making it difficult to form coherent thoughts.

The sensation of his erection sends a thrill up your spine, causing you to giggle sheepishly. Suguru returns your laughter with a smirk, his eyes heavy with desire. With quick movements, he pulls your top off, revealing your own breasts.

His large hands cup your breasts, fingers tracing circles around your nipples. You squirm under his touch, attempting to dislodge his hands. But his grip is firm, refusing to let go.

"Why did you stop?" he asks, his voice low and commanding, tinged with a hint of playfulness. "Don't you want to feel what I am feeling?"

The question piques your curiosity, and you press your mouth back onto his nipple. As you suckle, Suguru mirrors your actions, dragging his fingers across the other nipple. They continue to toy with your hardening nubs, the sensations building with each stroke.

The rhythmic and insistent play continues, both of you immersed in the dance of pleasure. The intensity escalates, culminating in a sharp intake of breath from Suguru as he reaches his climax.

His fingers tighten around your nipples pulling and pinching them, his seed spilling onto his clothes. The sudden combination of pleasure and pain from his grip makes you nibble on his nipple, the dual sensations intoxicating.

As the waves of ecstasy subside, both of you pull back, panting from the intensity of the encounter.

Bashful, you hide your face in his chest, the intimacy of the situation leaving you flushed and breathless. Suguru's fingers trail along your spine, a gentle caress that soothes your nerves.

In the moment of quiet, he asks, "Do you still miss your mom?"

Your voice is soft, tinged with a hint of sincerity as you respond, "N-no... not that much. Not when you're around."

A gentle chuckle emanates from his chest, and you can't help but join in. The shared laughter is a moment of vulnerability, healing the longing you have for your mother.

◈ RYOMEN SUKUNA

Today is Mother's Day, and the emptiness of missing your mother looms over you like a dark cloud. You feel lost, and the void inside your heart seems to stretch and grow, making you lash out in frustration. Uraume tries to comfort you, but it's no use. You're consumed by your sadness, and you begin to yell and scream, throwing a tantrum.

"WHERE IS DAD!" you cry out, your voice raw with emotion. Uraume, sensing your distress, tries to follow you, their small hands reaching out to you as if to calm you down. But you're too lost in your grief, and you keep running, your feet carrying you further and further away from the comfort of the temple.

You don't notice where you're going, your emotions driving you forward. Suddenly, you collide with a solid surface, the force of the impact knocking the wind out of you. As you regain your breath, you look up to find Sukuna squinting down at you, his expression unreadable.

"What did I tell you about screaming?" he asks, his voice low and dangerous. His four arms fold across his chest, and his eyes bore into yours, waiting for an explanation.

You frown, tears streaming down your face, "D-dad," you start slowly, your voice cracking. "I want my mom too, Uraume can't be my mom, I need my real mom. I'm so, so lonely." Your words come out in a rush, the weight of your emotions too heavy to bear alone.

Uraume sighs heavily as they approach Sukuna, their small hands fidgeting with their robes. "Lord Sukuna, she has been throwing her tantrums the whole day. I am tired now... you have to take care of her now," Uraume complains, their voice heavy with exhaustion.

Sukuna nods, his eyes never leaving you. He reaches down, his four arms wrapping around you, easily lifting you from your feet. You continue to throw your tantrums, hitting his back as hard as you can with your fists, but he remains stoic, unperturbed by your outburst.

As he carries you to his room, your sobs slowly die down, replaced by heavy, shaky breaths. Once inside, he gently sets you down on the bed, his eyes never leaving you.

"Listen, brat," he begins, his voice stern but laced with a hint of concern. "You don't get to throw tantrums just because you're my child."

But before he can finish, your emotions get the better of you again, and hot tears spill over your cheeks, tracking down your face. You bury your face against his chest, your body shaking with each sob.

Sukuna's eyes soften, and he kneels down beside the bed, allowing you to hide against his hard, muscular form. "Now now, don't cry, brat. I'm not scolding you. I'm just trying to-"

But his words are cut off as you suddenly latch onto one of his nipples, your lips wrapping around it, sucking it into your mouth. You cling to him, your grip tenacious.

Sukuna watches you for a moment, a mixture of surprise and amusement flashing across his features. His hand reaches up to gently stroke your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as you continue to suckle on his nipple.

"Ah, that feels nice, brat," he says, his voice a low rumble. He pulls back slightly, giving you better access to his chest. "Do you want to suckle like this, little one?"

You nod, cheeks drying as you continue to suck on his nipple, your mouth warm and wet against his skin. Sukuna relaxes, settling onto the bed, and you nestle against him, your body finally still as you find comfort in this primitive act. In the dimly lit room, you hold on to Sukuna, his heartbeat slow and steady beneath your cheek. As you nurse on his nipple, the sadness that had gripped you earlier begins to lift, replaced by a sense of warmth and security.

As you cling to him, your body still, you finally muster up the courage to ask, your voice small and muffled against his chest. "Daddy, can you... can you milk?"

Sukuna can't help but let out a booming laugh at your request, the sound echoing through the room. "You're missing your mother so much, huh?" he chuckles, the sound soft and amused. "I'm not her, so I cannot milk.."

He leans down to kiss the top of your head, his lips warm against your skin. "Go back to sleep now. You'll feel better tomorrow. And I promise, I'm not leaving you."

He nestles you closer, his strong arms wrapping around you, and you snuggle into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body, the beat of his heart, and the safety of his presence. His voice is a soothing lullaby, and soon, your eyes grow heavy, your body drifting off to sleep.

Sukuna's other arms wrap around you, his fingers gently massaging your back. "There, there," he coos, his deep voice soothing you further. "You're safe with me, little one."

The night stretches on, and you continue to suckle, slowly drifting off to sleep, your body lulled by the rhythm of his heartbeat and the comfort of his touch. For now, the emptiness of missing your mother fades into the background, replaced by the love and protection of Sukuna.

◈ SHIU KONG

The day drags on, your spirits dampened by the weight of your sadness. Today, of all days, feels like a cruel reminder of your loss. The celebration of motherhood is a painful sting, a wound that's reopened by the simple act of remembering.

Shiu senses the shift in your demeanour, his eyes sympathetic as he joins you on the couch, throwing his half-smoked cigarette into the ashtray. You're lost in your thoughts, staring blankly at the TV screen, when he speaks, breaking the silence. "It's a tough day, isn't it?" His voice is gentle, a stark contrast to the usual tone of authority.

You nod, your eyes brimming with unshed tears as you clutch a pillow close to your chest. "I miss her," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. The pain of losing your mother is a constant companion, one that fades with time but never truly disappears.

Shiu's response is immediate, his arms wrapping around you once more, pulling you onto his lap. His hand strokes your hair, an attempt to soothe the ruffled feathers of your heart. His kisses dot your forehead, a tender display of affection.

"I love you," he says, his voice soft and sincere. The words carry a depth of emotion, a promise that despite the circumstances, you are not alone. "Baby, I can do your mom and dad both, okay? Come on, what will make you feel better?"

Your gaze falls on his chest, his nipples pressing against his shirt, the sight momentarily distracting you from your sorrow.

Your hand hesitates, hovering over his chest for a moment before rising, your fingers tentatively brushing against his nipples. Shiu's eyes follow your movement, a hint of confusion coloring his expression.

The words tumble out, pleading and vulnerable, "Can I… will you let… me suck on them, please?" The request is unexpected, a confession of a secret desire, born from a place of grief and yearning.

Shiu's eyes widen, a perplexed expression crossing his features. However, he recovers quickly, nodding as he sits up, pulling his shirt over his head. His chest is revealed, smooth and toned, his nipples a darker hue against the pale skin. "Alright, go ahead. If that will make you miss your mom less."

His words linger in the air, the consent given, the door now open to your desire.

Your heart races as you lean forward, your lips parting as they close over one of the hard nubs. Your tongue flicks out, teasing the sensitive tip, the sensation of skin against your mouth unlike anything you've experienced before.

The taste of him, faint and slightly salty, is a shock to your senses, your mind hazy with the exploration of new territory. As you focus on the task, the ache of missing your mother begins to fade, replaced by a newfound sensation of comfort and intimacy.

The act is strange and all-consuming, your fingers tangled in the fabric of Shiu's pants, the sensation of your lips and tongue on his nipple sending shivers down his spine. His breath hitches, the unexpected turn of events stirring something within him.

His hand rests on your head, gently guiding you as you explore, the touch a mixture of reassuring and possessive. Shiu's body tenses, the involuntary reaction to the sensation you're providing.

The room seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you, connected by the intimate act, the chasm of your loss temporarily bridged by the strange comfort found in the act.

His voice comes out gruff, a mixture of embarrassment and awe in his tone. The admission is unexpected, revealing a side to him you've never seen.

You watch him, unblinking, sensing the shift in his demeanor. The layers of authority and strictness seem to falter for a moment, replaced by vulnerability.

"It's okay," he reassures you, his hand caressing your head gently once more. "It's just, you're awakening feelings I haven't felt in a long time." The confession is startling, the admission opening a door to a world previously unexplored.

The implications of his words swirl in your mind, the weight of the admission leaving you feeling a little shaky. The intimacy between the two of you deepens, the shared secret a bond unlike any other.

You continue your exploration, the newfound knowledge fueling your curiosity, the two of you falling further into the abyss of your connection.

As you continue your sensual ministrations, you become aware of Shiu's attempts to thrust his hips against you, a silent plea for more. Your curiosity piqued, you release his nipple from your mouth, your hands deftly navigating the path to his growing erection.

The feel of his hardness in your hand is electrifying, your fingers curling around the base, your thumb stroking the sensitive head. Your lips return to his nipple as your hand works in tandem, the dual stimulation driving him wild.

His breath hitches, his body arching into your touch, the restraint he's been exerting slipping. Shiu's whimpers fill the room, his need for release palpable. His fingers bury themselves in your hair, clinging to you as you drive him closer to the edge.

Finally, it happens. His body shudders, his hips bucking into your hand as he comes, the warmth of his seed coating your skin. A wave of relief washes over him, his grip loosening as he slumps back into the couch.

You release his nipple, your lips wet from your actions, your hand cradling his spent length. The intimacy of the act hangs heavy in the air, the boundaries you've crossed looming in the aftermath.

The scene is one of vulnerability, a shared secret now binding the two of you in a way that was previously unimaginable. The intensity of the moment is palpable, a new world opened by your exploration, your actions irrevocably changing the dynamic between you and Shiu.

◈ HIGURUMA HIROMI

You're sitting in your room, the dim light of dusk seeping through the curtains, painting shadows on the walls. Today, Mother's Day, should be brimming with warmth and love, but instead, it feels hollow and icy.

To compound matters, Hiromi, your stepfather, who should be offering solace, is absent too, absorbed in his work as usual. You know he's out there, tackling cases, serving justice to others, but in doing so, he's left you here, isolated, submerged in sadness. While a part of you comprehends his dedication to his job, right now, all you can feel is fury and bitterness.

You want to unleash your frustration on him, to question why he's not by your side, why he's prioritizing work over family on such an important day. But instead, you find yourself curled up on your bed, tears streaming down your face, the pain in your heart escalating with each passing second.

Hiromi returns home, greeted by an eerie silence. Something about it unsettles him, and he makes his way to your room, curiosity piqued. The moment he opens the door, he hears your quiet sobs, and his steps falter.

"Y/N?" he calls softly, his heart beginning to race.

You're curled up on your bed, tears streaming down your face, your posture tense with anger and sadness. Hiromi hurriedly rushes over and wraps his arms around you, lifting you gently from the bed in a warm embrace.

Your tiny hands attempt to push him away, your voice trembling with emotion.. "Put me downn! Leave me alone!"

Hiromi sets you back on your feet, but he doesn't move away. He waits, giving you space to compose yourself. "Why, baby?" he asks gently. "Why are you crying?"

You glare at him, wiping your nose roughly with the back of your hand. "Tis' mother's day, and you were not here for me." The words come out harshly, your tone betraying the vulnerability beneath. "It's not fair. No one ever thinks about me."

Hiromi's heart aches as he listens to your accusations. He reaches for you, gently pulling you close once more. "I'm sorry," he says sincerely, his voice a soft murmur against your hair. "I should have been here with you."

You tense up at his touch, unsure whether to lean into him or resist. He waits patiently, giving you time to process your emotions. "I know today is a difficult day," Hiromi continues, his arms still wrapped around you. "But I'm here now. Let me make it up to you."

Hiromi takes off his suit and crawls into bed beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you lay on your side. "I'm really sorry for not being here for you today. I promise to make it up to you from now on."

He leans in to press a chaste kiss to your forehead, then another to your temple. His lips trail down your neck, and he inhales deeply, taking in your scent. His words are a soothing whisper against your skin.

"I love you, and I'm always here for you, even when I'm not. You're my little girl, and I want to protect and care for you, always."

As he continues to shower you in affection, your anger starts to dissipate, replaced by a warmth in your chest. An idea forms in your mind, one that surprises even you. "Can I suck them, Daddy?" You point to Hiromi's nipples, catching him off guard.

His eyes widen, but there's a flicker of curiosity and desire in them. "I should take a shower before," he says, attempting to brush off your request.

Without giving him time to change his mind, you're already leaning forward, unbottoning his shirt, your tongue already tracing circles around one of his nipples. He's caught off guard by your boldness, but it's clear he's enjoying the sensation.

Hiromi's hand threads through your hair, fingers sifting through the soft strands as you lavish attention on his nipple. "Mmm, Y/N..," he breathes out, his voice thick with pleasure. "S-shit" His other hand slides down your back, his fingers kneading your flesh and pressing you closer to him. You smile against his skin, feeling in control for once.

As you continue to lavish attention on his nipple, you can't help but feel a jolt of satisfaction from the way he arches into your touch. His chest rises and falls with heavier breaths, signs of arousal that spur you on.

Hiromi's hand tightens in your hair, his grip firm yet gentle. "Is this my punishment?," he whispers, his tone laced with playful admonishment. "But I can't deny I enjoy this."

Determined to make him suffer your playful punishment, you suck harder on Hiromi's nipple, nibbling on it gently. His moan fills the room, and you can't help but smirk against his skin.

"Fine, fine," he gasps, his voice thick with desire. "You win. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'll take a day off just to spend it with you."

A triumphant smile spreads across your face as you pull away from his chest. Hiromi's admission of defeat is all the reward you need. "I'll be back after taking a shower," he tells you, his voice a sultry rumble.

Pouting, you lay back down on the bed, your mind already racing with ideas for the day he's promised you. You can't help but feel a thrill of excitement at the thought of spending an entire day with your stepdad.

As Hiromi heads to the shower, his thoughts aren't as chaste as they should be. The way you'd worshipped his nipple, sucking and nibbling, has left him aroused. He tries to quell his erection, his hand wrapping tightly around his cock.

His other hand moves to his nipples, lightly pinching them as he strokes himself. The shower's warm spray hits him, and Hiromi lets out a ragged sigh, giving into the pleasure as he continues to stroke himself, each motion a reenactment of the sensations you'd provided. He moans, his hips bucking slightly as he paints the shower tiles with his release.

Once he's cleaned up, Hiromi steps out of the shower, a satisfied grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He finds you sleeping peacefully in bed, a sight that fills him with affection.

Carefully, he dresses, then crawls into bed. Wrapping his arms around you, Hiromi rests his chin on top of your head, breathing in your scent. His body is lulled into a deep slumber by the soft rise and fall of your chest against his.

The thought of leaving you again is no longer an option. The memory of your playful punishment lingers, a reminder of how much it meant to you to have his undivided attention. Hiromi vows to make the most of the day he's promised you, never daring to leave you alone again on such a precious day.

◈ CHOSO KAMO

Choso was in the middle of his usual routine when he heard your soft sobs. He drops everything and rushes to you, finding you in tears. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, wrapping his arms around you.

You tell him that it's Mother's Day today and that you miss your mother. He feels your pain, and his heart aches for you. "You miss your mom, huh?"

He cradles you close, cooing softly as you cry into his chest. "It's okay to miss her. I do too, you know. She was a great woman." Choso strokes your hair, trying to calm your sobs. "She'd want us to be happy and continue living our lives." Even his eyes well up with tears, but he holds them back.

When you finally stop crying, Choso leads you to your room, a comforting smile on his face. "Alright, sleep baby. It's night time, and you need to rest."

He turns to leave, but you stop him with your request, "P-please stay with me tonight".

Choso's eyes soften as he understands your need for comfort. "Of course. I'll stay with you tonight, little one."

He lies down beside you, making sure you're tucked in and comfortable. He wraps an arm around your waist, his hand resting on your hip, giving you the feeling of security. "Go to sleep. Daddy's right here," he whispers, closing his eyes to keep vigil over you while you drift off to dreamless slumber. He's never felt so protective and nurturing towards another person, but he's always willing to do it for your sake.

Afte a while, you turn to face Choso, seeing him awake as well. He notices your distress and gently caresses your head. "Not sleeping yet?" His voice is soft and comforting, trying to reassure you.

You shake your head, admitting that you can't fall asleep. Choso cups your face, looking you straight in the eye. "Come on, baby. You don't need anybody else when I'm here. You're safe, and I'll always protect you." He tries to sing softly, but it's more of a hum. Your laughter at his attempt to serenade you makes Choso blush, and you kiss him on the cheek, your hands roaming his chest.

The thin fabric of his shirt reveals hardened nipples, and you can't help but notice. "They're hardening," you whisper, your fingers brushing over them. Choso's eyes widen, unsure of what you're referring to. "What?"

You grin at his confusion, leaning in closer. "Your nipples." With that, you take one into your mouth, sucking gently through his thin shirt. Choso gasps, the unexpected sensation sending shivers down his spine. "Y/N..." he murmurs, unsure of how to react. He's never experienced anything like this before, and your intrusive thoughts have led to a new discovery between the two of you. Choso's body is reacting in ways he doesn't fully understand, but his protectiveness and care for you haven't wavered.

Choso's cock twitches as he lets out a soft moan, whimpering like a baby at the sensation. You're enticed by his reaction, pushing his top away to suck his nipple directly. He arches his back, a string of curses escaping his lips. "G-goddammit, fuck! Hngh!" His body tenses as he accidentally cums in his pants, panting heavily.

Surprised by his reaction, you straddle him and continue sucking his nipples, your hands stroking his slicky shaft, now free from his pants. Choso gasps, feeling a heightened sensitivity. "Baby, no more. I get it. You miss your mom. Now stop," he whimpers, his hands attempting to pull you off. His efforts are in vain.

You continue to play with his cum-covered cock and lick his neck, moving back to his nipples. Sucking them as if you're a milk pump, you enjoy the reaction you're getting from Choso. His body writhes underneath you, a mix of pleasure and discomfort.

He's never experienced anything like this, and the intense emotions he's feeling are growing. Despite his attempts to stop you, he's also enjoying your attention, the line between pain and pleasure blurred.

Choso's hips thrust against your hand as his fingers wraps around your head, urging you to suck his nipples harder. Your other hand pinches his other nipple, tease his earlobes. The sensory overload is too much, causing him to cum again, this time all over your hand.

You pull your mouth away, both of you breathing heavily. You giggle, feeling a sense of satisfaction from your actions. Choso looks at you, panting, as if you're a devilish baby. He can't help but laugh along with you, the tension breaking.

You both collapse into each other, exhausted and satisfied. The night air envelops you as you fall into a deep sleep, the events of the night unfolding a new connection between Choso and you. His protectiveness has blossomed into something deeper, subtly changing the dynamic between the two of you.

dividers from @/cafekitsune

[dksfml]

what would you do if I went to touch you now? - riki

pairing: younger!nishimura riki x older!reader genre: office romance, flirty niki, workplace tension, niki teaches you japanese. summary: despite your best efforts to maintain professionalism, the undeniable tension between you and riki makes it impossible to resist the connection growing between you. it doesn't help that he calls you "noona" at work. warnings: suggestive, kissing, implied smut word count: 2.7k

your professional relationship with riki had been straightforward when he first started. quiet and shy, he took careful notes during meetings, absorbing the work culture like a sponge. as his mentor, you were tasked with guiding him through the ropes, ensuring he understood the nuances of the company.

“make sure he knows what he’s doing,” your boss had instructed, handing you the responsibility like a personal mission. and you took it seriously. riki was younger by a few years, in need of your guidance. at first, he seemed timid, his questions asked in soft tones, his posture always slightly defensive, as if afraid of stepping out of line. you naturally fell into a nurturing role, steering him whenever he seemed unsure, offering advice when necessary. but as time passed, riki's confidence grew, along with a noticeable shift in your dynamic.

it started subtly—small changes in his attitude. his work improved dramatically, and soon he was strutting around with a smirk, leaning back in his chair like he owned the place. his newfound cockiness was relentless, even though you reminded him to stay focused.

“riki,” you sighed, standing by his desk, flipping through his presentation slides. “i told you to cross-reference these with last quarter’s data. this is incomplete.”

he leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin. “i was going to fix it, but i thought i’d leave some for you to correct, noona. keeps me humble.”

you narrowed your eyes, unamused. “this isn’t a game. you can’t slack off just because you’re comfortable. these clients are important, and if we don’t get this right, it’s on both of us.”

his grin faltered, but just as quickly, he masked it with a wink. “got it. i’ll fix it. but only if you promise to let me take you out for dinner when we nail this project.”

you shook your head, suppressing a smile. “this is serious. you missed an email i asked you to forward last week. and calling me ‘noona’ here at work? we need to keep this professional.”

riki straightened, the playful glint in his eyes dimming. “right,” he said, his voice softer. “i’ll keep it professional. but you can’t blame me for trying.”

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, but deep down, you felt a rush of excitement at his boldness. “i want those revisions by the end of the day, riki. and no more flirting until this is done.”

“yes, ma’am,” he replied, a mock salute on his part, and for the first time in weeks, there was no teasing in his tone.

now, the two of you were working on a critical project, preparing a proposal for a japanese client your company was eager to sign. it wasn’t just a regular pitch; this deal was huge—a make-or-break moment that could lead to long-term collaboration. you had thrown yourself into the task, familiarizing yourself with every detail of the project. but there was one problem: the language barrier. the client preferred to communicate in japanese, and while you had learned some phrases, you were nowhere near fluent.

that’s when it struck you—riki was fluent in japanese. you recalled him casually mentioning it one afternoon, and now that you needed the skill, you struck a deal with him: he’d tutor you in japanese after work, and in return, you’d ensure his involvement in the project didn’t go unnoticed by the higher-ups. a fair exchange, strictly professional, you told yourself.

later that night, during one of your lessons, the atmosphere crackled with unspoken tension. riki sat across from you, leaning forward as you practiced reading a passage. you stumbled over a phrase, and his sharp gaze caught your mistake.

“no,” he corrected, his voice low and firm, sending shivers down your spine. “it’s nihon, not nee-hon. you’re stressing the first syllable too much.”

his tone was both authoritative and teasing, igniting a spark of mischief that made your heart race. “let’s go over that phrase again,” he said, his voice soft yet commanding. you nodded, struggling to focus, but the heat radiating from his body made it impossible to think clearly.

“try it one more time, noona,” he urged, leaning in closer, his breath brushing against your ear. the closeness sent a jolt of electricity coursing through you, and you instinctively shifted, seeking a little more space.

“um, okay,” you stammered, trying to keep your composure, but the way he looked at you—a mix of amusement and something deeper—made your cheeks flush. “i’m trying.”

riki leaned in even closer, his shoulder pressing against yours. “you’re not trying hard enough,” he teased, a smirk playing on his lips. “what’s the matter? feeling a little shy?”

“shy? no,” you protested, your voice barely above a whisper. “i just—”

“just what?” he interrupted, his gaze piercing into yours, his confidence unwavering. “can’t handle a little pressure?”

your heart raced at the challenge in his voice. “at work, i’m your superior, riki. you need to respect that.”

“respect?” he echoed, leaning back just enough to gauge your reaction. “or maybe you need to realize that i’m not the junior anymore. you’re the one who seems to struggle with that.” his eyes danced with mischief, and you felt a thrill race through you.

“riki,” you warned, but your voice faltered, unable to hide the quiver of excitement that danced beneath your words.

“tell me you’re not interested,” he challenged, leaning closer, their faces mere inches apart. the air thickened with tension, and you could feel his warmth enveloping you. “because i know you feel it too.”

before you could respond, the sudden power cut plunged the office into darkness, leaving only the dim emergency lights flickering above. your heart pounded, and the adrenaline heightened every sensation.

“well, i guess that’s the end of tonight’s lesson,” you attempted to joke, but your voice trembled, revealing your unease.

riki’s eyes glinted in the low light, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “no, we’re not done.” he leaned closer again, his hand brushing against yours, sending a wave of heat up your arm.

you pulled back slightly, heart racing. “riki, this isn’t—”

“isn’t what?” he whispered, his voice a low murmur that sent a thrill down your spine. “we both know there’s something between us.”

you opened your mouth to protest, but the urgency in his gaze silenced you. your breath hitched at the finality in his tone. the professional barrier you had carefully constructed was crumbling.

“we should go,” you muttered, fumbling to gather your things. but riki reached out, his hand brushing against yours, halting your movements.

“we could go to your place,” he suggested, his voice dangerously low. “finish the lesson there.”

the implications hung heavily between you. you met his gaze, searching for any trace of the playful riki you’d trained, the one who’d always danced around the line but never crossed it. but there was nothing playful in his expression now—only a raw intensity that made your skin prickle.

you nodded, unable to trust your voice, and within moments, you were heading out of the office together. the ride to your apartment was silent, the weight of what was about to happen sitting thick between you.

the door to your apartment clicked shut behind you, and the familiar surroundings only heightened the surreal nature of what was happening. you barely had time to turn on a light before riki was in front of you, his presence magnetic. the silence between you was thick with everything left unsaid, but his gaze—intense, burning—spoke volumes.

for a moment, neither of you moved, both caught in the tension that had been building for weeks. his eyes swept over your face, lingering on your lips as if contemplating his next move. you stood your ground, refusing to back away even as your pulse raced in anticipation.

“you’re still thinking about work, aren’t you?” his voice was low, teasing. he stepped closer, just close enough that the warmth of his body radiated through the space between you. “always so professional, noona.”

you swallowed, feeling the flutter of nerves in your stomach. “someone has to keep things in check,” you replied, though your voice faltered just slightly, betraying the tug of desire that made your skin prickle with anticipation.

he chuckled, soft and deep. “maybe it’s time you stopped thinking for once.”

before you could react, his hand slid up your arm, fingers curling gently around the nape of your neck as he pulled you toward him. his lips met yours in a kiss that was far from the playful teasing you were used to. it was hungry, intense, like he had been waiting for this moment as long as you had. the taste of him was intoxicating, and before you realized it, you were kissing him back with just as much need.

your back hit the wall softly as his body pressed into yours, every inch of him enveloping you, filling the space around you. his hands trailed down your sides, fingers ghosting over the fabric of your blouse before dipping under the hem, finding bare skin.

“riki,” you whispered, breaking the kiss for a breath, but your voice was breathless, needy. his name left your lips like a confession.

his lips barely left yours as he responded, his voice a raspy whisper. “you keep acting like you’re in control, noona,” he murmured against your skin, his hands now slipping around your waist, pulling you even closer. “but i don’t think you are anymore.”

the challenge in his voice made something inside you snap. you wanted to respond, to assert yourself as you always had, but the heat between you was overwhelming, and before you could muster a reply, his lips were on your neck, pressing soft, hot kisses along your skin that left you trembling.

“i’m not the kid you used to boss around,” he murmured between kisses, his breath warm against your ear. “you can’t keep treating me like i don’t know what i’m doing.”

his hands slid lower, and you gasped as his touch became more insistent, his fingers deftly working to unbutton your blouse. his lips returned to yours, and this time, the kiss was slower, deeper, as if he wanted to savor every second. there was nothing hurried about the way his hands roamed your body, exploring with a confidence that made your head spin.

you tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift motion, your fingertips brushing over the smooth lines of his chest. he was handsome, undeniably so, but up close like this—underneath the layers of work clothes and the carefully constructed professionalism—he was breathtaking. your hands trailed over his skin, feeling the tautness of his muscles, the way his breath hitched slightly as you touched him.

he grinned against your lips as you pressed your body into his, feeling the hardness of his form against you. “see?” he whispered, his voice rough with desire. “you can’t even resist me now, noona.”

you wanted to argue, to assert your authority as you always had, but the way he looked at you—like he knew exactly how to unravel you—left you powerless.

his hands made quick work of the rest of your clothes, every movement deliberate, controlled. he was no longer the shy, uncertain junior you had once guided. here, in the dim light of your apartment, riki was commanding, confident, and he knew exactly what he was doing.

he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the bedroom, laying you down with a gentleness that contrasted with the heat of the moment. and then he was over you, his hands exploring, his lips trailing over your skin in ways that made your breath hitch. you responded in kind, your fingers digging into his back, pulling him closer, needing him closer.

when his mouth found yours again, it was softer this time, but no less intense. his touch was slow, deliberate, as if he wanted to memorize every inch of your body, every gasp and shiver he elicited. you couldn’t help the sounds that escaped you, soft whimpers that only seemed to spur him on.

“don’t think just because i’m calling you ‘noona’ that i’ll let you keep this up,” he teased, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “you’re not the only one who can take charge.”

the air between you was charged with desire, thick with the tension that had been simmering for so long. every touch, every breath shared between you was electric, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. you had never imagined this—being here, with him, in this way—but now that you were, there was no going back.

and when he finally claimed you, when the last barriers between you fell away, it was like everything else disappeared. there was no work, no professionalism, no rules—just you and him, bodies moving together in perfect sync, lost in the heat of the moment.

the world outside faded into oblivion, and all that remained was the sound of your mingled breaths, the feeling of his skin against yours, the way he made you feel as though you were the only two people who mattered.

and in that moment, nothing else did.

“i still do want to take you on a dinner date though," riki said, breaking the silence with a light-hearted lilt that hung in the air like a sweet melody.

you pulled back slightly, your eyes searching his, as if seeking confirmation that this wasn’t just a fleeting fantasy. “really?” the question slipped out before you could hold it back, a mix of surprise and delight dancing in your voice.

“yeah, really,” he replied, his smile growing wider. “just you and me. somewhere nice. maybe italian? i hear they have the best pasta in town.”

his words wrapped around you like a warm embrace, grounding you in the moment. you could feel your heart quicken, the anticipation stirring something deep within you. “that sounds perfect. when do you want to go?”

“how about friday?” he suggested, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “i’ll even let you choose the place.”

a laugh escaped your lips, the sound light and airy. “i hope you’re ready for my pick then. i might take you to the best italian place in town, and you’ll be regretting it the next day.”

riki chuckled, the warmth of his laughter making your heart flutter. “i’ll take that risk. besides, i have a feeling it’ll be worth it.”

in that moment, as the soft glow of the streetlights seeped through the window, you felt the weight of the week lift, replaced by the promise of something beautiful on the horizon. but just as the excitement began to settle in, you were pulled back to reality by the sound of your phone vibrating against the table, a harsh reminder of the world outside this blissful bubble.

you glanced at the screen, and the moment slipped slightly, the glow of notifications flickering like an unwelcome reminder. it was a message from a friend, checking in about the weekend plans.

“sorry, i should probably—” you started, but riki gently took your hand, grounding you again.

“hey,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “you can always reply later. right now, let’s focus on us.”

you looked back at him, the connection reigniting. the moment stretched out like an unbroken thread between you, the world beyond the walls of this room fading once more into insignificance. you nodded, your heart soaring as you settled back into the warmth of his gaze, the future bright and inviting.

“so, friday it is?” you confirmed, your voice steady and full of excitement.

“definitely,” riki replied, a grin breaking across his face, as if he had just won a victory.

and just like that, the evening unfolded around you, a delicate balance of playful teasing and soft confessions, a new chapter beginning to write itself in the quiet spaces between your laughter.

[amu-says-hav-says]

I can’t believe I went through all of Season 2 assuming Nina was the stand-in for Crowley when you actually pay attention it’s so CLEAR that she’s Aziraphale. I was tricked by her spiky, sarcastic, cynical outer shell and lulled into a false sense of security by Maggie’s bubbly optimism and wholesome goodness, because on the surface they reflect the ineffable husbands perfectly, in their personalities, their aesthetics, even many of their actions and morals. but not, and this is the real key, when it comes to their “relationship”. but those first impressions really had me damn fooled. 

I missed the blatantness of Nina’s “we’re just friends. actually we’re not friends. we barely know each other.” the same thing Aziraphale said in season 1.  the way he still struggles to quantify their friendship when Nina asks. Nina’s sarcasm when Crowley asks about rain and awnings because it worked for him (we all know it LMAO). hell, that whole convo the girls have in the rain is so AziraCrow (“I know. I’m not your type” “...You have no idea” hits so much harder the second time, help meeeee.) “Lindsay” maybe being symbolic of Heaven and Aziraphale’s toxic relationship with them and their abuse? (the handwritten text messages in red pen make me think of angry notes on paperwork, anyone else?) because Crowley has never actually cared about what Hell thinks of him, just not getting into trouble (or him or Aziraphale getting hurt). Maggie is always chasing Nina. NINA NEVER GOES IN THE RECORD STORE. Just like Crowley always goes to the bookstore, to Aziraphale, Zira NEVER WENT TO THE FLAT (apart from The Swap but that doesn’t count imo). Crowley has always chased Zira, not the other way around. Always there to rescue him, always going to him for company, always relying on their shared connection, always US. OUR SIDE. All through season one, he comes to Zira every time to work together, never trying to work alongside Hell in any way that isn’t to save their skins or Earth, while Zira hides things from Crowley because he STILL thinks Heaven is ultimately good and will do the right thing if he can just show them. fix it from the inside. 

Maggie working up the courage to finally say something, to put herself out there, while Nina is utterly oblivious and then when she does realise Maggie has feelings, becoming standoffish, putting up that barrier, fighting it, denying it, ITS SO CROWLEY AND AZIRAPHALE IN THAT ORDER. the way I was fooled into thinking Nina’s trust issues are Crowley because he does have trust issues ofc he does BUT Crowley has ALWAYS TRUSTED AZIRAPHALE. has always relied on him. has always been hurt when Aziraphale doesn’t immediately reciprocate the way he expects (the holy water request, the bandstand, the “off in the stars” etc). he’s always the one putting himself forward. Aziraphale has always been the one to second guess everything, to fight their connection, their similarities, their friendship. the girls really made me think it was going to be okay when they sat Crowley down, even as my inner sirens were going haywire about Metatron interfering, they were telling Crowley he just needs to open up and it’ll all work out BUT HE’S ALREADY AT THAT POINT. he may not say it, and by gosh is that part of their damn problem, but he’s always SHOWN IT. he’s not Nina who needs time to heal and recover from her broken trust, he’s always been Maggie believing it doesn’t matter, they’ll end up together in the end anyway AND I WALKED RIGHT INTO THE TRAP THAT THIS MEANT THEY WERE GOING TO BE OKAYYYYYYYYYYY

[berry-potchy]

Dad's Best Friend!Miguel O'Hara blurb because I'm obsessed

UPDATE: Part 2

I love the DBF!Miguel O'Hara scenarios that have you sneaking around and fucking while your family is around and unaware BUT consider:

DBF!Miguel O'Hara who offered to let you stay at his place when you moved out for college. You don't have to worry about rent or anything because he'll take care of everything. He'll take care of you.

It all seemed so good and innocent at the start. You even got to have the place to yourself most of the days because of his demanding job. Miguel said you can bring your friends over but no romantic partners or flings allowed. Not that you had anyone in that way when you're so busy yearning for Miguel. You've had a crush on him since forever and every time you tried to get into a relationship or have sex with anyone, anyone your age, your mind always compared them to Miguel. For the longest time you were hopelessly yearning, convinced that he'd never return your feelings until one night.

You were lying in bed trying to catch your breath after fucking your pussy raw with your vibrator thinking about how hot Miguel looked that morning in his nice suit, ready for an important business meeting he had. You were about to fall asleep when you felt the bed dip and suddenly Miguel was pulling you close to him, your back against his chest. Your bare ass still wet from your own slick, flushed against his erection and the only barrier that separated you was the same sexy suit you had been fantasizing about. He was so big, he felt bigger than how you imagined him and your cunt throbbed, seemingly ready to be used and abused again.

He kissed your neck, licking and sucking, marking you as his while murmuring how long he had been wanting to do this. He heard you moaning his name when you thought he was going to come home late and he immediately called in his office to tell them he's taking a sick leave. He's going to spend that time fucking you, on every surface in the house, making up for all those times you teased him in the mornings just walking around in an oversized shirt and no bra. You didn't even wear shorts around him, gave him a show of your cute ass, trying to reach mugs from the high kitchen shelves. He had to go shamefully jerk off in his car just so he didn't have to go to work with a very obvious boner. How'd he explain that to your dad when he inevitably bumped into him in the office? His precious little daughter living under the same roof as this pervert?

Hearing you moan his name while you fucked your slutty cunt was the last straw, all his self restraint went out the window. He took your vibrator from your hand and let it overstimulate your swollen clit but immediately take it away when he feels you almost going over the edge. You whine and beg him to let you cum but he just laughs. He promised you'll cum plenty of times, more than you can handle.

Of course he eats your pretty pussy out and fuck you all night in so many different ways, in positions you never even heard of. Your pussy was swollen and oversensitive, and you're pretty sure your cervix is deliciously bruised. Miguel kisses your pussy as an apology but gets distracted and tongue fucks you and makes you cum again.

You slowed down some time in the morning. Miguel made you breakfast but soon enough you found yourself bent over the kitchen counter getting railed again. You don't know how this man had that much stamina at his age. You were getting close to cumming when you heard your phone ring. Your dad was calling you. You helplessly looked back at Miguel, expecting him to stop so you can pick up the call but he didn't stop and clicked the answer button for you. Your dad happily greets you over the phone wondering how you're doing and you tried to keep your voice steady and told him everything's good and uni was going great. Miguel leaned over, pressing his chest on your back and driving his cock deeper and harder into you. It took everything in you not to cry in pleasure and you wondered if your dad can hear the erotic sounds of Miguel's cock abusing your sopping wet hole and his balls slapping your aching clit.

Your dad told you he heard Miguel was taking a sick leave which he has never done befor. He was convinced that he must be really sick for that workaholic to finally take a break so he asked you to take care of his best friend for him. You told him not to worry because you were taking really good care of him.