#then will goes to dance with that girl and he's just going through it!!!!!! he's even more confused. basically zoning out in gif 7

[endereies]

THOUGHT YOU WERE MINE - CS

No Nut November - Day 5

NNN Masterlist...

-➤ When Chris was finally ready for a relationship with you, it was too late

Your situation with Chris was complicated to say the least. You had been running around with his for the past few months, sneaking off during parties and events. You loved the risk between getting caught with someone who was only meant to be your best friend. But it never stayed that way.

At first you sought out Chris’ attention in the midst of a drunken decision, yet as time went on, you found yourself seeking his frame in the crowd as soon as you arrived. It was stupid, you were aware of that. Chris never did commitment, that he made clear. Countless conversations spiralled around the idea if you two and what you both wanted.

You had thought you could escape the pain of falling for someone you couldn’t have. As soon as your heart clenched when he complimented you, you knew it was over. That feeling only grew and even if in the moment you felt like the only girl he’d ever look at, it was a lie. It didn’t help that when you snuck off with him, it wasn’t always for sex. Occasionally you’d find his hand tangled in yours while the concrete steps lay below you. Sounds of the party called the pair of you back. You always ignored it.

He'd steal the odd kiss from you, in front of people and never batted an eye. The two of you would be dragged into the stage by the other to your favourite songs and you never care how you looked when you were with him.

Those moments made him question how he felt about you, seeing your vibrant smile as you danced with your friends. Or the way you’d laugh without a care in the world. Little did you know he was falling too. He hated it.

Chris was open about his commitment issues to you. He wasn’t someone who was immediately happy getting into a relationship, the whole idea intimidated him. Having a label felt too immediate for him, and after being hurt in a previous relationship it was easy to see why. The fact he was falling for you was already enough to throw him off course, he just couldn’t turn away.

The way you both felt wasn’t subtle. Your friends always giggled when they noticed the smudged makeup that was lining your lips. No matter how many times you v denied the accusations of you two dating, the butterflies in your stomach became obvious.

That was until you confronted Chris about everything.

“Hey Chris...? Vulnerability filled you as soon as the words left your mouth. Quick glances around the room failed to aid you in finding anything else to converse about. His hand stilled from your hip, the touch burning your skin. “Mm? What’s up?”

You hadn’t even said anything to him, and you already felt sick in your stomach. Is this how every confession goes? “Can we talk…about us?”

“What about us Y/n?” You could tell he was getting concerned, yet not out of fear, but the fact he’d have to repeat himself again.

“I don’t want this anymore…like, I don’t know. I guess I don’t want to act like this is all casual anymore.” His touch on your hip no longer burned as it withdrew completely.

“I’ve told you, I’m not into that shit Y/n. We agreed on that, you knew. I’m not meant to be in a relationship, especially with you. That shit would hurt the both of us. We talked about this, end of.”

Tears brimmed at your eyes, and you felt so childish. He was right. You had discussed this more than once, the rules were clear. Weren’t rules meant to be broken. You couldn’t believe that you could be so stupid, the false hope from your friends fed into things that shouldn’t have been touched.

“Right…Well maybe I should go.” He didn’t protest, or even acknowledge you leave. Asking you to stay felt like too much to him, even if every cell argued with him.

The door shutting felt too real. You had actually left, this wasn’t a prank? Chris’s gaze was held on the door, praying you’d push it open and walk back through. You never did.

You quietly left through the front door and walked away from the porch, both your hands in your pockets. You were thankful for the dark sky, that way no one could see your tears. It was too quick, to reactive. It felt scripted hearing those words from him. ‘I’m not meant to be in a relationship, especially with you’

With you…

Maybe if you were someone else, he’d be more willing to hold your hand and call you his. He would always step in and call you ‘his girl’ when any other guy got a little to close to him. For once you wished it wasn’t a ploy. Chris never played you, never treated you badly, never gave you a reason to walk away. Maybe that’s why it hurt so much, he was too perfect.

Steady weeks went by with no contact from you. You never came over to his place anymore, invitations to parties remained unread. He didn’t care, he shouldn’t. What was this weird feeling in his chest.

It hurt seeing you so close and yet so far. Your contact was there, staring him in the face. Your face beaming in the profile picture wasn’t helping him. Chris felt out of place now. Without you by his side he had no one to kiss, no one to hold. He had no one to rant about his day to, no one to console when things got bad. His friends weren’t the same, he needed you. As much as he hated to admit it, all his thoughts revolved around you more than ever. Whenever he used to think about you, his heart clenched with resolute admiration towards you, now it felt sour. It was like a deep breathe wasn’t deep enough, distractions weren’t fulfilling enough.

He hated the feeling of falling for you, but the feeling of losing you was a nauseating sensation he wanted to scratch off his skin.

Not even alcohol could wipe the stain of you, nothing was working. He waited too long and fell comfortable to the casualness of your relationship. He was willing, willing to work through any fears if it meant getting you back.

Before he knew it, his front door was locked, and footsteps disappeared into the night. Stars began to light the sky above him. He found himself wondering if you were looking at them too, like you used to. The walk was only 15 minutes away but each second felt too long. he had waited too long. Now he hurt someone he cared about for his own selfishness.

When Chris turned the corner, his body stilled, and his stomach dropped to his feet. An unfamiliar car was parked outside your house, tilted against the concrete. Your hand placed gently into another’s as they pulled you from the car. You inched closer towards them, yet Chris remained frozen. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. Who was he, why was he here, with you.

The voices were too meek for Chris to make out, yet the message was clear. It was evident when the distance between you two close, his lips softly touching yours.

Only then could Chris turn his eyes away, he felt betrayed without reason. Chris wasn’t ready and when he finally was, he pushed you away enough to move on.

Yet, he loved you first.

@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerrss @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @jassturn @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone @ribread03

© ENDEREIES 2024

[fandomtherapy44]

Trick or Treat Dean x reader Oneshot! Pt2

Pairing: Dean x reader

Warnings: SMUT, language

Summary: Y/n and Dean finally get to have a treat.

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WC: 2,401

AN/ So this is like a second part to my Congrats you're a Dad fic with Dean, but you don't have to read that to fully understand this one. This was supposed to be posted on Halloween, but life got in the way, so let's just pretend that it is okay! Also, if you like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I have a Spike x reader with smut if you're interested!

I blink my eyes open to sunlight peeking through our curtains and shining on our feet. The air is cold and crisp due it being October, and I want just to ignore the world and cuddle myself deeper in the heap of blankets we have on our bed. But sadly, the world demands our attention, well, more like our daughter needs it. I knew Bella would be awake soon her being now seven and having all the energy in the world, man I never thought I would be jealous of my kid. And my boyfriend the father of our daughter Dean Winchester is just softly snoring away. 

And I couldn't blame him he has been working a lot for us, both of us were to just afford a bigger place. I softly kiss his nose get out of my bed and grab my robe. I walk to the kitchen to get breakfast ready. I start the coffee and get the pancake mix out I’ve been making new spooky designs for Bella every day, its a pain in the ass to do it but worth it to see her face light up every morning plus it’s a lot easier to get her up for school. I start to make the food pour my coffee turn on a hype playlist on my phone to try to wake myself up.

“Hey, baby,” Dean said in his early gruff morning voice coming into the kitchen and wrapping his arms around me from the back.

“Good morning sleep well?” I responded loving the feeling his arms brought an extra warming to my body.

“Yeah, I did, what is that a witch?” He asked referring to the monstrous creation I have in the pan, no pun needed.

“No, I was going for candy corn.” I slumped my shoulders pout and I could feel his body chuckle at that.

“Aww sweetheart you know Bella loves anything you make for her.” He comforted me.

“But it’s supposed to be-” Before I could get in one of my little overthinking rants Dean started kissing my neck.

“Dean, what are you doing? You know Bella has to be up in fifteen minutes.” I sighed trying not to get swept up in his presence. Which is impossible.

“I am trying to remind you that no matter what you are an amazing mother to our little girl and that you deserve a little treat.” He breathes in my scent and reaches forward to turn off the stove. He starts to kiss my neck and finds my pulse and sucks down on it like he was a vampire.

“Mhh Dean.” I moaned.

“All for you.” Then his hand slips through my robe and to my shorts.

“I love these on you so easy to…” His fingers find their way to my panties and lightly tease my slit. The fingers getting slick on them almost embarrassingly.

“To go in.” I start to move with him and grind up on him a little like a dance. I can feel him getting hard. He moves his shaft against me.

“You…are…playing…with…fire…buddy.” I stated with bated breath.

“Always have.” He then slips in.

“Ah fuck Dean!” Fingers start to pump in gently.

“That’s it just let go.” I'm already close, it’s been a while since we could have a fun time.

“Mommy?” Shit! Fuck!

Dean quickly removes his fingers and goes to wash his hands while I try to compose myself.

“Good morning Princess, did you sleep well?” I asked as I placed her pancakes on the table kissed her head and tried to forget the last ten minutes.

“Uh-huh! Good morning Mr.Dean!” She exclaimed excitedly eating her pancakes with glee.

“Good morning Pumkin!” He adored her back with her nickname. We still have not told her that he was her Dad we really want her to get comfortable and she is.

“Mommy we still have to get my costume.” Our little seven-year-old demanded.

I laugh, and so does Dean, and we sit down, too. “Well, how about this: How does Mr.Dean take you to get one, huh?” Her little eyes light up like Christmas lights.

“Really! Yay! Thank you, Mr.Dean.” She runs to hug him and then to get ready.

He turns to me with a little panic running through him. “I’m going take her? Not that I don’t want to it’s just it will be like a real bonding thing do you think she’s ready or me?” My heart leaps with joy at his shyness and happiness.

“You are ready, plus if you’re going to stay around there is going to be a lot of bonding experiences.” Before I know it he pulls me to his lap.

“Hey I am here to stay and I’m going to rock the socks off of this bonding experience.” He gave me his signature smile and I leaned in to kiss him. We start to drift into what we were doing before and I pull away.

“Mhh baby you're giving me blue balls here.” He gripped my hips.

“Sorry, but we both have work and you still have to drop off Bells at school, maybe later okay?” I get up to get ready. “I lo-” I stop myself. “I hope you have a good day.” I smile and ignore the almost confession I committed. 

It’s Halloween and I’m rushing to get ready in my costume. 

“Babe you almost ready Bella is pulling on my-” he stops dead in his tracks seeing me.

“Wow just wow.” Scanning me up and down in my Poison Ivy costume he was Batman and Bella was Robin.

“You just trying to torture me aren’t you?” He asked in a low sexy voice getting his hands on me.

“Maybe?” I innocently asked knowing what I was doing.

“Oh, are you really trying to play coy right now?” He gripped harder on my hips.

“Why don’t you find out Mr. Wayne?” I whispered and nipped his earlobe.

“I am going to have you all tied up with your own-” He gets interrupted by our adorable daughter.

“Batman! There are criminals out stealing candy we must stop them!” She pronounced it like a real superhero.

“We are coming, Robin!” He called out. He turns back to me.“We just got blocked again by our own kid what is this world coming to?” He practically whined.

“Sorry, Mr.Wayne.” I kiss his cheek grab my cape and leave with blue balls… again.

We walk hand and hand while watching Bella run down the sidewalk shouting “Criminals beware!” Yes, it is the cutest thing ever. Between the orange twinkle lights and fake monsters on the lawns, little kids running around having fun, and the man I am starting to love it felt like a dream. A dream I never thought I would get.

“Hey, Ivy what's passing through that pretty head of yours?” My Batman asked. I hug his arm tightly.

“Just I think this is the best Halloween Bella and I have ever had.” I kissed his shoulder.

He squeezes my hand in agreement. “Me too, but there was this one year where I got to fight this animatronic that is a horror movie icon!-” He sees my face of confusion and just stops. “Yeah, me too.” 

We get home after an hour of Bella yelling about criminals and yes people did look at us a little weirdly. We walk up and Sam and Eileen are waiting on our porch. “Hey guys, sorry but we weren't expecting you.” I hug them both. 

“Actually I was,” Dean responded to my surprise.

“You were?”

“I was thinking while Bella has a super fun sleepover with her Uncle and Aunt we can have our own “super fun sleepover”.” I got what he was putting down and I loved the idea. I bend down to Bella.

“Sweetie would you want to-” 

“Yes, Mommy! Love you goodnight!” She hugs me quickly and runs to her uncle. I signed thank you to Eileen and she signed back you're welcome and have fun.

“Dean you planned this?” I put my arms around his neck.

“Well what I said earlier is true you do deserve a treat.” 

“Well, Mr.Wayne show me to your bedroom.” He picks me up bridal style and takes me to our bedroom.

SMUT 18+ Below cut....

He brings me in and places me on the bed. The room is dark, and a candle is burning, giving off the scent of chocolate and sweet berries in the air.

“Oh, you don’t know how long I've been waiting baby.” He starts to kiss down my neck. Paying special attention to my sweet spot.

“Why don’t you show me?” I raised my eyebrow being bratty. I knew what I was doing and I was good at it. That’s how we met in the first place I may have “accidentally” bent down in front of him at the diner.

“Oh, I will.” He gropes all down on me like he’s never touched a woman before. His fingers linger and drag down my most sensitive areas. Knowing what he was doing.

“Babe? Babe!” I giggled. “We have time now slow down I want to enjoy my Batman.” I spread my hands down his chest. Felling his toned muscles through his costume hell he probably could be Batman. They tensed under my fingers.

“I know it’s just that I miss my Ivy in bed waiting for me.” He nibbles on my neck. Sucking hickies in the deep nape of my neck.

“Me too but we have all night and tomorrow morning so I’m thinking maybe five rounds?” I pronounce confidently. Letting him really get into it. He was now licking those sore spots.

His eyes light up. “You really think we can do five?”

I pull him down by his cape. “You're right let’s do ten,” I smirk. Like I said it has been a while.

“Oh, I like what you're thinking!”

I slowly pull off my costume to reveal my green matching sexy lingerie. I run my hands over my body to tease him.

“Oh my, I think I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

“That you are Mr.Winchester.” He climbs on top of me and we start to make out. His tongue slips to meet mine and we start a beautiful rhythm. Like we had a hundred times before.

“Mhh Dean.” His hand goes to my pussy. Fingers go straight in. Really, sloshing in.

“So wet already huh?” The fingers pump in but then move more quickly. My body reacted and involuntarily jumped up. His hand steadied me on my hip. It was so sexy that my body shook from excitement.

“Yes yes!” He makes rings around my walls. He makes patterns in me. Rubbing up and down before I know it I’m cuming.

“Shit, I guess it has been a while.” I chuckle. “You're turn Bats.”

I push him to the bed and get on top of him.

“You want slow or fast?” 

“Slow.” 

I pull his pants down and bend to pull his underwear down with my teeth and his shaft springs forward. I start with tiny kitten licks and go up and down mainly focusing on the head. My tongue circled the top like a lollipop. The flavor being sweet and salty. 

“Mhh that’s it Baby you're doing great.” He sighs in deep pleasure.

At that compliant my pussy gets wet again I guess I have a praise kink.

I then suck deeply. And bop my head up and down making sure to get all of it. I then add my hand to it. And I pump the parts I can.

“Ah fuck!” I can tell he’s getting close. I don’t pull off and he comes in my mouth.

“I will never get tired of that.” He smiles happily.

“Thank you, now should we get to the main event of the evening?” I raise my eyebrows up and down.

“Yes, we should.” He goes to pull off the rest of the costume but I stop him. “Wait I've always wanted to do it with Batman.”

“Oh you dirty girl, okay your wish is my command.” He pulls me to him and slides up his shaft to meet my slit.

“Okay, are you ready?” I nod yes.

He slips in very easily.

“Oh that is…”

“Amazing” I finish.

He starts to move at a careful but intentional pace his strokes in me making music with my body. His shaft was hard as a rock making it juts up like it was a ship hitting the shore but in the best way possible. He held me up in a way I would feel every thrust.

“Ohh Dean…” I groaned out. He is fucking sex on legs littery and physically.

“Y/n… fuck…so…good!” He could feel my walls clench around his dick hard he kept pounding and sweat started to pour from both of us making the slick a lot more slideable. 

I grab the sheets in a tight grip to remind myself I wasn’t in heaven even though I felt was pretty close. One of his hands goes up to my nipple to rub it in small circles. His thumb moves over the texture of it and my whole body is in full on stimulation. I moved up my hand to his bicep and his skin was hot. We were both meeting each other in the middle of the thrusts. We were both getting close.

“Dean..” I was breathless.

“Yeah I gotcha Baby okay ready.” I nod yes.

He slows down his thrusts to make sure we can fully chase and enjoy the high. His hand that was on my chest goes to my clit. He makes tiny pets at it.

“Three…Two…One!” Both our bodies exploded together.

He pulls out and flops down next to me in exhaustion. 

“Baby we needed that.” he pulled me in under his arm.

“Definitely, so ready for the next round.” I reached up and brought his face to meet mine.

“Ohh give me like thirty minutes to recuperate I’m not twenty anymore.” I smile at that and give him a sweet kiss truly appreciating that he is here and getting older. Because with his old job, he could of very easily of ended at twenty.

“Dean thank you for my treat best one I’ve ever gotten.” I cuddle in deeper and think “I am so in love with Dean Winchester.”

Thank you for reading! And remember to vote! Also, if you like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I have a Spike x reader with smut if you're interested!

[rafecamerons-national-anthem]

𝑀𝒪𝑅𝐸 𝒯𝐻𝒜𝒩 𝒥𝒰𝒮𝒯 𝒜 𝐿𝐼𝒯𝒯𝐿𝐸 𝐵𝐼𝒯-𝒱𝐼𝒩𝒩𝐼𝐸 𝐻𝒜𝒞𝒦𝐸𝑅

𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕜𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕤

The room is dimly lit, shadows dancing along the walls as the music pulses softly in the background. Vinnie stands across from you, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie, eyes holding yours with that look. It’s a look you've seen a thousand times, but tonight, there’s something different about it, a deeper intensity, a smirk that’s both playful and almost daring.

“Come on, y/n," he murmurs, the corners of his lips twitching into a grin. "You’ve got me here. Why play it safe?”

Your heartbeat picks up at his words, but you try to keep your cool, folding your arms as you lean against the wall. “Who said I was playing anything, Vinnie?”

He lets out a low laugh, stepping closer. He’s only a few feet away now, close enough that you can smell the faint hint of his cologne mixed with a touch of adrenaline and something else, a wildness he can barely keep hidden. His eyes never leave yours, burning with something you both know is more than just a crush.

“Girl, I want you," he says, his voice low and serious now. "More than just a little bit. More than just a little too much.”

His words hit you straight in the chest, catching you off guard even though you’ve been hoping he’d say them. Your heart races as he steps closer, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from him, hear his breath catch as he waits for your response. For a moment, the world fades, the noise of the party outside the door dulling to a soft hum, leaving just the two of you in the thick, heady silence.

“Fuck your games,” he whispers, his hand brushing yours, sending a thrill up your spine. “Come on, play with me. Just for tonight. Let’s see where it goes.”

His words linger in the air, daring you to let go of your doubts, of the guarded front you've put up. You take a deep breath, feeling that rush of excitement and maybe a little danger as you finally close the space between you.

“Fine,” you say, a smirk tugging at your lips as you place a hand on his chest. “But only if you’re ready for things to blow up.”

His grin widens, and he brings his hand up to cradle your face, eyes smoldering as he pulls you close. The room might as well not even exist anymore, there’s only him, and you, and the thrilling uncertainty of where this will take you.

The tension between you and Vinnie is electric, every inch of space between you crackling as you lock eyes, both daring the other to break first. His hand cups your face, fingers brushing against your jaw, and his thumb traces a line across your cheek as he watches your expression with that steady, knowing gaze.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” he murmurs, voice low and rough. His thumb trails down to the corner of your mouth, and you feel a shiver ripple down your spine. He’s not moving, just holding you there, letting the anticipation build. Every fiber of your being is telling you to close the gap, but he’s waiting, wanting you to make the first move.

With a slow exhale, you finally step in, letting your hand slide up his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his shirt. Vinnie’s eyes flicker, a hint of surprise mingling with excitement, and he lets out a soft chuckle as you take control.

Your lips hover a breath away from his, the thrill making your heart pound. "I'm ready if you are," you whisper, barely more than a murmur, challenging him to follow through.

That’s all it takes.

In one swift motion, Vinnie leans down, his lips brushing against yours softly, almost like he's savoring the first taste. His hand slides to the small of your back, pulling you closer until your bodies are pressed together. The world around you blurs, the low hum of music in the background and the muffled laughter outside forgotten as the kiss deepens, turning from tentative to urgent in seconds.

The next moments are a blur hands tangled in hair, the feeling of his heartbeat pounding against yours, and that overwhelming, dizzying sense that you’ve crossed into something you can’t come back from. Each touch, each kiss, feels like a promise neither of you are ready to put into words just yet. And even though neither of you knows where this is heading, you feel that spark growing into something that could burn out of control.

As you pull back for a breath, his forehead resting against yours, you realize he’s smiling a real, soft smile that only you get to see. His fingers trace patterns along your back, grounding you in the here and now, even as your mind races.

"I told you,” he says, his voice soft but sure. “I’m not letting this be a "maybe" thing. I’m all in.”

You look up at him, that familiar, playful confidence shining in his eyes. And for the first time in a long time, you feel yourself letting go of your guard, leaning into whatever this could become.

“So…what now?” you ask, feeling a surge of excitement mix with the slight uncertainty.

Vinnie grins, squeezing your hand as he glances toward the door. “How about we ditch this party and find somewhere quieter?” he suggests, his thumb brushing across your knuckles in a way that feels intimate, promising.

With one last glance at the room, you nod, letting him lead you outside. The night air is cool and sharp, a contrast to the warmth between you, but his hand stays entwined with yours as you walk down the quiet street, lost in your own little world.

The possibilities of the night stretch out before you, and you’re ready to dive headfirst into whatever comes next, knowing that, just maybe, he feels exactly the same.

The two of you walk in comfortable silence, the quiet city streets illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights above. The night feels endless, like it’s all yours. With Vinnie’s hand wrapped around yours, everything else fades away no distractions, no half measures. Just the two of you, each step bringing you closer to whatever this is becoming.

Eventually, you reach a small, hidden park you’ve both wandered to a few times before, drawn by the solitude it offers late at night. There’s a bench under a canopy of trees, and he leads you over, taking a seat before pulling you down beside him. The leaves above rustle gently in the breeze, and somewhere in the distance, a car rumbles by, the headlights washing over you for a second before disappearing down the road.

Vinnie leans back, his gaze fixed on the night sky before shifting back to you, his expression a mix of amusement and warmth. “It’s kind of crazy, isn’t it?” he says, his thumb tracing idle patterns on your hand. “How fast this is happening?”

You look at him, feeling that familiar flutter in your stomach. “Feels like it was bound to happen eventually,” you say softly, watching his face for any hint of hesitation. But there’s none. He’s listening, looking at you as if you’re the only thing that matters.

“Eventually,” he repeats, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Guess we’re both not the best at admitting things.”

You laugh, nudging him playfully. “I could say the same about you. How long were you gonna keep giving me that look before you finally said something?”

He tilts his head, as if considering. “Maybe I just like watching you try to figure me out,” he says, his tone teasing. But then his expression softens, and he reaches up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Or maybe I just wanted to make sure you were ready for me. For this.”

You don’t respond right away, the weight of his words sinking in as his hand lingers by your face. His fingers brush your cheek, gentle and reassuring, and you lean into his touch, letting your eyes drift closed for a moment.

“I think I’ve been ready,” you admit quietly, opening your eyes to meet his gaze. “Maybe I just didn’t know how to say it.”

He smiles, that warm, genuine smile that makes your heart skip. “Good,” he whispers, his voice just a little rough around the edges. “Because I don’t want this to be something that fades away tomorrow.”

You search his eyes, sensing the honesty there, and you feel that wall around your heart crumble just a little more. “I don’t want that either,” you say, squeezing his hand.

Vinnie lets out a breath, looking almost relieved, as if he’s finally hearing something he’d been hoping for. His hand slips to the back of your neck, pulling you close until your foreheads touch. The world is still and quiet, holding its breath along with you as you both stay there, wrapped up in the intimacy of the moment.

And then, without another word, he kisses you again, this time slower, softer, like he’s savoring each second, letting the world fall away. His fingers trace along your jaw, gentle and tender, and you melt into him, feeling every worry, every doubt, dissolve under his touch.

When he finally pulls back, his eyes are soft, and he brushes his thumb across your cheek, his expression almost unreadable.

“What?” you whisper, curious about what’s going on in that head of his.

He shakes his head, smiling a little, almost as if he’s amazed. “Nothing. Just thinking about how crazy it is that I’ve had you here this whole time, and it’s taken us this long to get here.”

You let out a soft laugh, leaning your head against his shoulder as he wraps his arm around you, pulling you close. “Guess we’re both a little late to the party,” you say, teasingly.

He chuckles, squeezing you a bit tighter. “Better late than never, though,” he murmurs.

For a long while, you sit there together, wrapped up in each other, watching the stars above. There’s no need for more words tonight. You both know exactly where you stand, and for once, you’re more than okay with taking things one heartbeat at a time.

The cool breeze of the night wraps around you, but Vinnie’s warmth keeps you grounded, his arm still around your shoulders. You can feel his breath against your hair as you both sit in silence, a rare moment where everything seems to fall into place, where the world feels right.

After a while, you shift slightly, looking up at him. His gaze is steady, but there’s a softness there now, a tenderness you haven’t always seen before. You’d gotten so used to his playful, teasing side, but tonight it feels like he’s letting you in on something deeper. You can see it in the way his eyes linger on you, the way his touch lingers a little longer than usual.

“Are you sure about this?” you ask, your voice almost a whisper, unsure why it feels important to ask now, but needing to hear it from him.

Vinnie’s hand moves to cup your face, his thumb brushing your lower lip as he gazes into your eyes with an intensity that makes your heart skip. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t sure,” he says, his voice steady and sure. “I don’t want to just have fun with you for a night and forget about it. I want… this whatever this is. I want to see where it goes.”

You feel a weight lift off your chest. It’s that same thing you’ve been dancing around for so long, the uncertainty of what this could turn into. You’d both been hesitant, skirting around it, but now it’s out there in the open, and it feels right. The vulnerability in his words makes your stomach flip, but in the best way possible. You’ve wanted this, wanted him, but more than that, you wanted the honesty.

“Good,” you reply, your voice barely audible, but the meaning clear. You reach up to take his hand, bringing it to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles before looking back up at him. “Because I don’t want to do this halfway either. I want all of it. I want you, Vinnie.”

His eyes soften as he leans in, forehead touching yours. The air between you crackles again, but now there’s a deeper connection, a trust that hadn’t been there before. His lips brush against yours lightly, just a soft, lingering kiss that leaves a warmth in its wake.

As you pull back, his smile is easy, relaxed, and the intensity of the moment shifts to something more playful. He leans back on the bench, stretching out a little, his hand still wrapped around yours.

“Think we’re ready to head back, or do you want to keep hanging out here, watching the stars?” he asks, his voice teasing but with a hint of sincerity.

You chuckle, looking at the dark sky above, the stars twinkling faintly through the gaps in the trees. The night feels endless, like it could stretch on forever if you wanted it to. But there’s something about this moment, something that makes you want to savor it for a little longer before heading back to reality.

“I think we’re good here for now,” you reply, shifting so you’re closer to him. You lean your head back against his shoulder again, the sound of the leaves rustling around you feeling like a soft lullaby. “Let’s stay here for just a little bit longer.”

Vinnie hums in agreement, resting his chin on the top of your head, his arm loosely draped around you. The peaceful quiet between you feels like the perfect kind of silence, the kind that speaks volumes without either of you needing to say anything more.

But eventually, the night catches up with you both. The cool air starts to seep through your jacket, and the sounds of the party in the distance remind you that the world outside is still spinning. But you don’t want to go back just yet. Not while everything feels so simple, so right.

When you finally get up to leave, Vinnie doesn’t let go of your hand. He pulls you close once more, pressing a kiss to your forehead before you both walk back toward the streetlights. As you leave the park behind, there’s a sense of calm between you, a quiet understanding that this moment, this night, is only the beginning.

The future is uncertain, but tonight, with him beside you, the possibilities feel endless.

And you’re both ready to take that next step, together.

[bylrndgm]

MIKE WHEELER IN EVERY EPISODE [17/42] 2.09 The Gate

[momotonescreaming]

lowkey obsessed with the domestic college stommy au that lives in my head

[homunculus-argument]

Character idea that I had at some point: A dance teacher who had to give up his own highly promising career as a performer after an injury, and now makes his living giving lessons to children. He comes off as stern, serious, and frighteningly strict, and even some of the parents have a hard time believing that the kids genuinely like him and enjoy the lessons. Which, to be fair, are frightening to watch with no context of what this is about.

The children go through their practices with downright eerie, automation-like, coordinated synchrony, with stern and focused looks on their faces, while the teacher circles them, observing and correcting, brandishing his cane like a weapon and every once in a while dramatically lamenting about how "you little vermin can't do anything right", and occasionally the music stops and the only sounds coming from the studio are of kids running and screaming while their teacher bellows about teaching them a lesson.

This, however, is all just method. He started the first lesson with the children by proposing a game: How about they play flea circus, where he is the cruel evil ringmaster and they are all his poor suffering little fleas. One of the girls starts crying, protesting that she doesn't want to be a flea. Well, how about mice? Mice are cute. The children accept these terms, and ever since they've spent dance lessons playing Evil Circus.

For reasons beyond adult comprehension, children of a certain age really love playing pretend in a setting where everything is Dark And Horrible And The Worst, and Evil Mouse Circus is exactly that. And whenever he picks up that the kids are starting to get too genuinely nervous or agitated, that's when he goes "that's it I'm going to beat all of you" which is their cue to take a break to run around screaming, while he chases them. He won't catch them and isn't even trying to, the kids just need to let the nervous energy out.

It looks horrible to an outside observer, but the kids are having an excellent time playing circus mice.

[freebooter4ever]

unrelated to the stick but have you seen cooking with geno?

Haaaaaaaaaaaa. I have :) i mean...what self respecting geno fangirl hasnt? If im honest i think it was the first thing with him that i watched, but i was not paying attention to him at all at all then. Aside from noticing that Fuck He's Exactly My Type If I Ever Had One and being very annoyed by it. My ADHD research spiral in the summer of 2022 went something like this: ra*ngers -> pana*rin -> russ*an red w*ngs -> larion*ov...and then i side tracked over to alyonka's mental health/ E*D*O videos, and then her podcast which also interviewd several hockey players including her brother (which are really interesting btw)...tldr i actually watched that video more curious about alyonka than geno, cause in her more current stuff she talks a lot about those early 2000's days and what it was like working in the league as a woman. Unfortunately for geno at that point the only thing i knew about him was that he was on the penguins and that he said some shit in one interview about bread, and i had already decided based on that and his instgrm that he looked like an asshole. I cannot find that interview quote about breadman, for all i know it could have all been made up, but it reaaaaally made me dislike him. So the first time i watched the video i was doing my best to ignore geno and pretend like he wasnt radiating attractiveness. My one conclusion about that video and a few other old pens videos with alyonka (and not geno but other players) i watched was that i was surprised how much more informal things used to be. She felt very casual and more like a friend to the players than the more professional style interviews i have seen while watching this stuff live now.

And if none of that research spiral makes sense just be grateful you dont have ADHD.

ANYWAY then lucky for geno he features in my favorite hockey photo ever - that one of him sitting on the boards with the snow and baby blue jersey. So i had to draw that photo, and then i started paying more attention to him that season, and watched that dan and sushi interview, and realized shit i might have been wrong about this guy. And maybe my change of heart only has a little to do with his Very Pretty Eyes.

And moooooonths (a year?) later i finally rewatched the cooking with geno video and had to basically admit that my initial gut instinct of Oh Shit He's Hot reaction remained the same. He's a terrible cook, somehow even worse than me which is saying something cause i'm really fucking bad at it myself. But his physicality/personality rather shines in the clip. (i have heard people say he was sexualizing or staring at alyonka??? It doesnt look like that to me, they just seemed very comfortable with one another and maybe a little teasing but im not the best at recognizing flirting etc). Young Geno's got that same confidence/swagger as old(er) geno that in most guys would come across as arrogant but with him it's very quiet and understated. He makes a lot of dumb jokes. Even on my second viewing i still didnt understand the basketball joke. He didn't talk much but there were a lot of shy smiles. He reminded me a lot of my old friend ethan in attitude and height - just like how he kind of awkwardly looms in the background at times, and how all his obvious strength is sort of soft in a gentle way. He also seemed like a guy very willing to listen, which was cute. But -and this might be me projecting. But sometimes when people try to 'teach' me how to cook i play dumb just so i can check out and not use my brain and let them do all the thinking and tell me exactly what i need to do. Its very lazy and i recognize this but sometimes my brain is tired. And i swear geno was maybe doing that to alyonka at times. Like i think his effort in the video was at most 70%. Maybe 50%. It takes one lazy cook to know another one. And i am a very lazy cook.

Sorry anon, ive been cleaning and working all day so you got more than you asked for, basically a character study, whoops.

Oh, also on the second rewatch i realized the weird short grimlin who only appeared to eat the food and then disappeared was tanger. I did NOT recognize him. I still cant really believe thats him.

[s0dium]

Fucking you raw??!!!

Synopsis: It's his first time fucking and you are letting him go raw?????!!! Oh boy.

Warnings: Everything you might imagine.

Is he dreaming? This has got to be a dream.

He blinks. Hard. To his disbelief, the site below him remains unchanged.

He gazes, awestruck by the vulnerability and arousal mirrored in your eyes. The soft, ambient light above casts a gentle glow on your skin, accentuating its smoothness and the delicate curve of your shoulders and highlighting the gentle slope of your breasts. Your nipples glisten, probably from his spit when you practically had to coax him off them.

"Are you ok baby?" Your voice comes out almost as a whisper, sultry and smooth. He watches your lips form the words, how your mouth glistens from the spit of his messy kisses, and how your tongue darts out to wet it.

He thickly gulps and nods. No, he would not lose composure, not now when he has been fantasizing this moment for months. With unbreaking focus, he presses the tip of his dick against your tight hole.

Then, he sucks in a breath through his teeth and pushes in. Immediately his mind goes white, paper white. Fuck, he has to kneel over from how wet, warm and goddamn tight you feel. The sensation is electric, like tiny sparks dancing along his nerves, igniting every inch they touch. It's a delicious contrast of heat and moisture, sending waves of tingling delight that radiate from dick finger to the rest of his body. He can't believe this is happening, he can't believe he is fucking the girl of his dreams raw. Your a god damn angel for letting him do this he is sure of it.

He has to remain still inside your heat for a few seconds and thank god you let him, or else he is sure he wouldve cum ropes into you there and then.

"Im gonna move now baby," He throws his head back and groans "J-jesus you feel so good"

He's too immersed in his own pleasure to realize that you are also being thrown in the abyss of utter euphoria. Letting him go raw was the absolute best fucking decision you have ever made. His dick filled you to the brim, stretching you perfectly. His thrusts were slow at first, testing the waters to see how much you could take, how much he could take. It was dizzying, the grith of his dick digging itself against your g-spot, the euphoria of him fitting snuggly against walls with every thrust. The friction is incredible and it made pain quickly turn into pleasure.

"F-faster" You manage to croak out and he lets out a whine at your words. Jesus, you don't need to tell him twice.

He reels his hips back just enough so his fat tip barely leaves your warm cunny, the anticipation building as you brace yourself. In an instant, he slams them forward, hard and fast right into your cervix, driving into you with a force that leaves you gasping for air. The bed creaks beneath you both, each powerful thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. His movements are relentless, each one more intense than the last, the friction of his dick scraping against your walls making your toes curl.

"Love you, love you so much" he babbles. He's far too gone, a primal need for you has settled in him and his brain is on auto pilot. All he can think about is how good your pussy feels wrapped around him and how pretty you look right now. The sensation of your body moving in unison drives him wild, his grip on you tightening as he loses himself in the overwhelming ecstasy. His low groans and murmured praises only heighten the intensity, making each moment more electrifying than the last.

"So good s-so good" your words are strung out on your lips from how good he is fucking you. Every thrust ignites a fire within you, the sensations so intense you can hardly think. Your senses are overwhelmed by the feeling of him deep inside you, the rhythm of his movements perfectly attuned to your own mounting desire. You moan in ecstasy, the sound mingling with his groans, as each powerful thrust pushes you closer to the edge. The pleasure is all-consuming, making your body tremble with each delicious impact, every moment more euphoric than the last.

As he continues, you can sense his building intensity, his breaths turning into ragged gasps. His eyes flutter shut, and you feel the shudder of pleasure running through him with each thrust like electricity. His grip on you tightens, and his pace quickens, driven by a primal need. Every thrust brings him closer to the peak, his mind beginning to blur with overwhelming sensation. You can see the tension in his muscles, his abs tightening with the strain of holding back.

"Shit shit shit" he gasps, bending over so his lips are against your ear. "Im gonna cum baby, im gonna cum in you fuuuuuu-"

Then, with a final, powerful thrust, his mind goes blank, and a surge of pure ecstasy washes over him. His body tenses, abs hardening as he reaches the peak of his euphoria. He groans deeply, lost in the moment of ultimate pleasure, every muscle in his body taut with the intensity of his climax. The sensation is overwhelming, leaving him trembling as the waves of pleasure gradually subside.

You gasp at the feeling of hot ropes of cum filling you up. Theres so much of it it spills out of you and onto the bedsheets below. Your body trembles in response, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. Sensing your rising climax, he leans down, his lips brushing against your neck, leaving a trail of soft, peppered kisses.

His voice, husky with desire, whispers in your ear, "Let it go, baby. Let it go."

His words, combined with the gentle touch of his lips, send shivers down your spine. He slows his thrusts, his dick still painfully hard, moving with a deliberate, tantalizing rhythm that drives you wild. The pleasure builds to an unbearable peak, your entire body tensing as you approach the edge. His soothing words and tender kisses coax you further, until finally, you let go.

A wave of intense pleasure crashes over you, your body arching in response. The world blurs as you reach the peak of your euphoria, every nerve ending alive with sensation. His slow, deliberate thrusts and murmured encouragement keep you riding the wave of ecstasy, your mind lost in the overwhelming bliss. You cry out, the release so powerful it leaves you trembling, completely consumed by the moment.

Your left gasping for air and just when your about to roll over and take a breath, he grabs the underside of your legs and presses them against your chest.

"So sorry baby, I need more. Please let me have more."

GOJO, GETO, Toji, YUUJI, YUUTA, KENMA, OIKAWA, BOKUTO, EREN, SHIGARAKI, SANEMI

[screampied]

Hii vegas!! Lil request 🙏🙏 brat taming w jealous!Sukuna BUTTTT with Sukuna doing it in front of his servants(if u already did this u can ignore this request!!)

—Sukunas no.1 glazer

✧ ⁺˳ cw. fem! reader, jealous kuna, heian era! sukuna, exhibitionism, cōckwarming, dirty talk, praise, mdni.

it’s become known that sukuna doesn’t like when other eyes are all on you.

the moment he spots his servants laying their filthy eyes on his beloved favorite human, he scoffs in vex. the audacity, he didn’t like people staring at what’s his. but of course out of all days, you decided to be a brat. “c’mere,” a simple word and you were at his usual beck and call. the demon pats a hand against his manspread lap, ushering for you to take your rightful seat. his seat was his throne whilst yours was right on his thigh. taking your sweet, precious time and dragging your feet against the slick marmoreal floor, he snarls. “woman, don’t waste my time. my lap, now.”

“you all, c’mere,” he snaps his fingers with a sly eyebrow raise.

sukuna’s got a vicious gaze at his low ranked servants, a good dozen of them nearly shivering at his command. they create haste, standing in front of his throne, awaiting for his next orders.

“and lastly, you,” and his voice pitches a deep low. you merely gulp, feeling one of his arms sling around your waist, another creating a teasing trail down your nape. bringing a chaste kiss toward the outer part of your earlobe, he whispers salaciously. “you love testin’ my patience, huh. i was watching you earlier. i don’t like you giving my pathetic servants your precious attention.”

“oops,” you hum, and he’s not so fond of your cheeky attitude. as your back lies against his bare, broad chest - you’re facing the eyes of the fearful lackeys. still, they’re looking at you, some desperately wishing they were in your shoes.

oh, to be lucky enough to take a throne on the sukuna ryomen’s notorious lap. anyone who tried without his word would have easily been caught dead. alas, you were the exception. “was jus’ sayin’ hi, ‘kuna.”

“tch. don’t make me laugh, princess,” he murmurs, and your breath hitches once he sprawls your legs open a bit. “saying ‘hi’ doesn’t take you fifteen minutes, but i’ll spare you,” and with the way his voice delivers, it was a snarky growl underneath. timbre and haughty, you felt the sudden twitch between your thighs almost immediately.

he wasn’t gonna spare you,

in fact— you figured he’d do something else like maybe bend you over his knee and spank you. but sukuna had another thing in mind.

a thing where you’d be taking his cock right in front of his servants. staring them dead in the eyes as you’re creaming down their righteous king’s shaft.

as you’re barreling his hefty length, you shudder the moment you feel his second cock brush up against your sopping folds. they were stacked upon each other but your pussy’s main focus was on the one directly in front, not behind.

“good girl, easy. don’t go down too quick or ya might break,” and your body twitches in rapture once his feverish breath dances against your skin. “heh, ‘s that what you want? to be broken?”

“y- yes,” you mewl out, making a failing attempt to rock your hips against his lap. his servants claw their nails into their thighs, the awkward tension wafting against the air like wind as they just stare. the fact that dozens of eyes were seeing you like this made you throb. convulsing pulses multiply and shoot through your folds before a big hand wraps around your throat. chortling in a raspy manner, sukuna spanks your ass for you to hurry. sinking down on his thickset dick makes your toes curl - he’s big. chewing on your lip, you moan. “kuna, ‘s fuckin’ big, fuuuuck.”

“what a nasty fuckin’ mouth,” he growls, and another one of his hands goes toward your drooling, weeping cunt. a palm swiftly swats against your entrance, allowing your legs to sprawl wider and you whimper. “mhm, brat. this is supposed to be a punishment but y’er just turned on, huh,” and as you’re all the way down on his cock, feeling the tiny pressuring prod and pierce through your tummy, you nod against his chest. “thought so,” he chuckles lowly, stern ruby eyes leering toward his servants. “look at her. none of you will be this wet for me, acknowledge that.”

as he’s speaking to them as if they’re below him, and in this case—they were,

while another one of his hands toy against your folds, your slit dribbles with slick and you’re happily coating his base with your juices. your legs were about to collapse and you moan whilst sukuna’s pitchy deep voice rumbles in the background. his voice,

it’s heavily intimidating. booming and loud, no one dared to defy him.

it’s so gruff and smothered with authoritative baritone that it rings and reverberates throughout the sacred walls of his domain. his scent, his rich cologne scent clogs through your nostrils as your legs struggle to maintain its stillness. “f- fuck, ‘kuna ‘m not gonna l- last,” you whine, chest deflating within each breath snatching out your lungs. with a hand gripping his thigh, yanking on the silk made fabric of his kimono—you whimper. “s- sukunaaa.”

“such a sensitive little thing,” he tsks, cockily shaking his head side to side before one of his arms wraps around your torso. the demon’s cock, fat and all, buries itself completely into you and you moan the moment you try to grind back on him. it’s pathetic, all that bratiness earlier and now, you were already creaming. it comes quick, so quick that you barely even have time to react. his peeling foreskin that’s attached near the crown of his dick tickles against your gummy walls, relishing in your goopy grip. “oh,” he murmurs, feeling your sweet slick drench him from the base down. the entire time, the king’s got the most haughty grin, feeling your human body slump against his soft tatted chest in its defeat. “that was early, princess. a bit too early.”

you whimper, still coming undone and the white noise ringing in your ears only intensifies. panting repeatedly, you squeeze against his thigh before the only words you could sputter out was, “s- sukuna, ‘kuna- more.”

“heh, always a greedy girl,” he grunts, feeling his cock twitch at your simple plea. the pesky servants were appalled, witnessing such lewd activity before them. sukuna ryomen and his favorite human. with a titter, one of his hands gives your cunt a good squeeze, snickering at how you easily gush all out on the center of his palm. “who’s pussy does this belong to though, tell me,” and his eyes dart toward the little audience, his former jealously subsiding a bit. “tell our friends too, let ‘em know, princess.”

his touch was so sharp—you gasp, feeling an extra limb of his grab against your neglected breasts, a thumb flicking against your perky nipples that poke out of your cottony blouse. “ngh, belongs to y- you, ‘kuna.”

with a single hand, he turns your head, glancing near his extra peripherals of the incoming drool that’s seeping from the corners of your mouth. once he cranes your head, he makes you stare straight at his servants. “uh huh, tell them. tell them who’s pussy ‘s my favorite.”

“m- mine,” you moan, his touch making you shudder in utmost pleasure. glossy eyes meet the dozens of people - secretly sucking their teeth and growing envious of you, of you getting off to this entire thing. a few of them shamelessly yearned to be in your place, but they knew with you in the picture, they never stood a chance. “my p- pussy’s your favorite, ‘kuna. ‘m yours.”

“good girl,” he praises, and you’re still on his lap with his twitching cock shoved deep into your clingy walls. with a hand again, he turns your head to the side to face him briefly - sneaking a wet kiss near your lips for a few seconds. you moan, feeling the edges of his fangs and his forked tongue collide and mash inside of your mouth.

all hands of his feel and wander and roam against your body at such a slow pace, you whimper before he gives his unworthy servants one final side eye.

“show’s over. get lost,” he snarls, and they all scatter like flies. the large darkened room’s finally empty, and it’s just you and your king.

sukuna hums in amusement at your state, the brat within you nowhere to be found before he whispers against your ear. the final words of the demon not only makes your cunt twitch but a shiver runs down your spine. “seems like my girl needs a bit more training. now now, since we have some privacy, we should try one of my favorites. full nelson,” and he purrs.

“i wanna see you take both of me, princess. be a good girl ‘n bend over for your king.”

[eternallyhauntingthehouseoflove]

Bat-Boys in Bed

I couldn’t find a good gif, sue me

Dick Grayson’s mouth is filthy. And he gets enough praise, so I think he’d be into praising you instead.” You’re so pretty, all fucked-out and dumb…just for me” as he pounds into you, panting in between words.

He’d also be into touchy sex positions, like missionary where he can hook his nose into your neck and wrap his arms around you. Dick would be into you giving him hickies.

I think Dick has an insane stamina—round after round. His hips would meet yours at a punishing pace as he muttered out praise,” this cunt is so warm and wet for me. My beautiful girl.” And he place wet kisses to your neck and cheeks.

Dick isn’t above moaning, but he’s not pornographic about it.i see him whimpering and begging if he’s getting a blow job or if you’re on top and teasing him, but I don’t see him moaning as much or more than you.

Jason Todd isn’t much of a talker during sex, but I do believe he moans. He’d be a lot more gentle with you than popular belief thinks. Especially if we’re talking older, mature Jason who’s passed his “fresh from the pit madness.”

I do believe Jason has a choking kink and I’ll die on this hill. And it doesn’t have to be his hand around your throat or vice versa. It can be him shoving his cock to the back of your throat and feeling you pulse and throb around him.

He enjoys, mature Jason too, seeing your eyes go wide and glassy. Jason loves to pull his cock from your mouth after you’ve had enough and seeing your lips plump and pink. He loves the slight flush of your tits.

Jason is a lot more eager to switch roles and be on the bottom than Dick. If you’re feeling top-ish and want to ride. Jason wouldn’t argue as you ground down on him, rolling your hips and leaving a trail of slick on his pelvis.

He’d beg through covered lips as you shushed him and picked up your pace, driving your hips forward and giving Jason the release he’d been craving.

I don’t know enough about Tim or Duke, sorry.

Bruce is harder to read because there’s decades of lore, canon, and stuff that’s not in the main continuity. Many writers have different versions of him that some favorite—however, here goes.

Bruce is a control freak. Whether you planned it or not, you’d end up in a dom/sub dynamic. He’d be choosing your clothes, picking which jewelry he buys, telling you when to cum before you even realize it.

I also think he has a power imbalance kink, just a little bit. Nothing extreme or megalomaniacal. So I truly believe you wouldn’t be rich (sorry lol); you’d maybe be a lesser known vigilante, and that’s if Bruce is healthily interested in you. I believe you’d be a civilian, but a smart and compassionate one. We know Bruce isn’t one to dumb himself down for company; we know Bruce is attracted to smart women, but none of his past relationships worked because they didn’t have a heart ( I love Talia, but he real; she wasn’t Mother Teresa).

This one may lose people, but I believe Bruce has a breeding kink. It would be a chance for him to restart. His only blood child is an arrogant, cold assassin and the rest of his children are masked vigilantes who dance with death nightly. But with you, his love, he could have a child not born in pain and anger. He’s older and wiser; he’s not as vengeful and mission oriented as he was when he adopted Dick and Jason; Tim sought him out, and Damian came with a chip on his shoulder.

Bruce is unyielding in his refusal to switch places. He’s too paranoid and enjoys control too much to bottom. The closest you’ll get to topping is bossing him around from the bottom.” faster, pretty boy.” You reached up and caressed his face as his pace stuttered and he spilled into you, gasping and groaning as he did.

You wouldn’t be fucked in the suit or the Batmobile. And he hates being called Batman in bed. The closest you’d get to mixing sex with his vigilante life is getting fucked in the Batcomputer seat.

Damian Wayne is the kinkiest Batfam member. I see Damian, who didn’t undergo such a beautiful arc, having a blood and bondage kink.

Damian preferred to tie you down rather than tie you up. He cares for you, and tying you up puts you in an uncomfortable position (he doesn’t want that) and it screws with your circulation. And if he ties you down, he can see your face as he places the vibrator right on your clit. He can see you try to knock your knees—to no avail.

Damian loved to take a small knife and inflict a wound, if you can even call it that. It was feather soft, and you loved when he would wrap his mouth around the wound and suck the blood. Then he’d kiss you, letting the saliva and metallic taste mingle.

I believe Damian would be into hickies and spanking too, but not the for the violence like I see from the kinkier side of the fandom. He would be into hickies, spanking, bandage, and blood play for the markings. It all boiled down to markings. And that’s not to claim that those activities didn’t get you both off, but Damian’s true enjoyment stemmed from the possessiveness of it all.

That’s why he likes to untie you and massage the rope imprints, then walk you to the mirror and spin you around, letting you see all the prints and marks. He could feel himself harden again, but he knew he’d break you if he ever tried to impose his libido and stamina on you.

Don’t kill me, but Damian isn’t into cunnilingus. He also wouldn’t bottom, not like you’d want him to. If, and that’s a huge “if” ( it’s months into the relationship too), he does bottom, it’s not traditional bottoming. Damian would top from the bottom,” go slower, grind harder, beloved.” And he’d grip your hips hard enough to leave prints, because marks, duh!

Damian likes sloppy blow jobs. I know he’s proper and clean, but trust me. Spit, moans, and whimpers; that’s what gets him off. And seeing your cheeks flush and your breathing quicken, but you keep going lower and taking more of him in. He appreciates the determination, and it makes him feel in control, huge, and dominant which strokes his ego.

[sturnsdarling]

'Stay the fuck away from her'

{based on this ask I left in @sturnioz inbox} fratboy!chris leaves shy!reader alone at a party for the first time and it goes south, quickly.

vibe check: fighting, violence etc, pressure to do drugs, fratboy!chris being a guard dog, fratboy!matt being a lil bruiser (i love him) a TINY bit of fluff bc I cant help myself and I'm a sucker for an asshole (fb!chris) with a soft spot (s!reader)

1.6k words

A/N: based on cas' fratboy!chris au. FUCK I love this. I had this idea after cas' lil blurb about jealous!fbchris and she told me to write it so mother gets what mother wants. another day another slay y'all lets fucking go. PART TWO HERE

love and cigs, merc

The frat house was nearly vibrating with the movement of hundreds of people, all moving, dancing, fucking and taking drugs in every millimetre of the house.

Chris and Matt were off doing their rounds with the freshers, Chris handing out his new stuff to all the sorority girls that pushed themselves against him before palming them off to Matt, who was just as uninterested in them but of course, made the moves to make the sale.

Tonight was a big night, it being the first party back after Christmas break so, the boys actually left you by yourself for the first time ever to make their rounds. Of course, Chris had instructed Nate to watch over you, but he was so faded that he could barely look after himself.

You were sat on a smelly couch in a back room, pressed in between two rival frat brothers to Chris' frat, both of them fawning over you as you sat there uncomfortably, shifting in your skin at the sensation of them peppering encouraging touches over you.

"come on, baby, one lil pill wont hurt you" one said, holding a small white pill in front of your face, your eyes nearly crossing as you stared at it.

"yeah, it'll be fun, and don't worry, we'll look after you" the other said, menacingly smirking at his frat brother

you shook your head, "I'm alright, I don't do drugs like that" you said, trying to crane your head back from them.

"theres a first time for everything, baby" one of the boys said, pressing his thumb into your chin, attempting to open your mouth as his friend moved the pill closer to your lips.

Nate was sat on the other side of the room, two girls draped over his lap as he sucked on one of their necks, palming the other ones ass.

"oh fuck" he said as he looked over to you, pressed between two frat boys as they waved a pill in front of your face.

He pushed the girls off him and they whined in a huff. He lifted his lips and pulled his phone from his pocket, opening it and calling Chris.

"Chris, dude, theres some guys here n'there all over your girl, touchin' her n'shit, one of them has a pill and kid is basically forcing it in her mouth" he said down the phone.

Chris didn't reply, only hung up the phone with a tsk sound and summoned Matt to follow him.

Within seconds, Chris was in the room, searching around the sea of bodies for you. He met Nates eyes first, who was once again sandwiched between two blondes. Nate pointed over to the other side of the room to you. The sight made Chris' blood boil, a villainous smile etched across his face, shaking his head and pressing his tongue to the side of his mouth as the thought of what he was gonna do to that kid raced through his mind. You were desperately trying to free yourself from the trap the boys had laid for you, squirming as they touched you and edged a pill closer and closer to your lips.

Chris stormed over, taking a long drag of his joint before tossing it to the floor. Just as quick as he arrived at the sofa, his hands were wrapped around one of the boys shirts, pulling him off the sofa and throwing him on the floor. Everyone gasped, moving out the way and gawking at the sight of Chris coming to stand over him.

"dude what th-" the guys questioning was cut off by Chris coming down on him and clocking him round the jaw with a swift punch.

"Chris!" You shouted, jumping off the sofa and grabbing his shoulders.

He shoved you off him and turned back to the kid underneath him, swinging down once more and cracking his jaw off his knuckles.

"y'think you're hard 'cuz you pressure girls into taking your shit pills? huh, kid? y'think you're a fuckin' gangsta?" Chris screamed as he laid into him.

The guy was borderline unconscious as you screamed Chris' name over and over again. Matt came up behind you, grabbing you by the shoulders, "go stand with Nate" Matt said, pushing you in Nates direction.

You nearly fell forward as you stumbled over to Nate, unable to tear your eyes of Chris as he continued to hit the boy beneath him, never letting up despite the boys pleads.

"yo, get the fuck off him" His frat brother shouted, coming to grab Chris by the shoulders. His movements quickly cut off by Matt, pulling him backwards and shoving him back to the sofa.

"watch ya hands, tough guy" Matt chuckled, grabbing the guy by the scruff of his shirt and nutting him, cracking his nose off his forehead. The guy recoiled, blood pouring from his nose instantly as his hands flew to his face.

Matt pushed him back as he stumbled, meeting him on the floor with a brutal clock across his jaw.

Chris got up off the guy and pulled him up with him, holding his bloodied and swollen face inches from his, "think you're a fuckin' big dog, yeah?" He turned and threw the nearly limp guy on the sofa.

The boy shook his head frantically, holding his hands up as Chris stood over him. "no, no, I don't, I don't, I didn't know she was your girl dude, m'sorry" He stuttered.

"well, now you do, so stay the fuck away from her, yeah?" he spat, moving as if he was going to hit him again.

The boy flinched and whimpered, running away, leaving his frat brother to fend for himself as Matt continued to pummel into him. He was relentless, near enough laughing as the boy lost consciousness underneath him.

"you wanna force girls into doing shit? you wanna be a tough guy n'drug girls jus' so they'll fuck you?" Matt said, pulling the guy up off the ground by his shirt, "hows it feel bein' a fuckin' loser, huh? tell me kid, hows it feel?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" the guy cried and Matt just laughed in his face.

Chris panted as he watched the guy he near enough battered run away. He turned round to Matt, placing a hand on his shoulder and tapping him.

"s'enough, Matt, y'gonna kill him" he said, pulling Matt off the bloodied and battered boy on the floor.

Chris eyes immediately searched for you, finding you tucked into Nate, scared shitless of what you had just witnessed. He walked over to you, everyone in the room still staring at him as he did.

When he reached you, he grabbed you by the back of the neck and pulled you round to face him, taking your face into his bloodied hands.

"did they give you anything? huh? did they do anything t'you?" His eyes searched your face for any signs of drugs or bruises.

"no" you shook your head, brows furrowed as tears welled in your eyes.

Chris sighed and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. It was weird, Chris never hugged you like this, but as if on instinct you sunk into him, wrapping your hands around his waist.

"m'so sorry I left you alone, y'not leaving my side ever again, okay?" he muttered into your hair.

You nodded into his chest, whimpering slightly at the sensation of Chris breaking the hug.

"and you-" Chris spat, pushing Nate by the shoulders, "y'were s'possed to look after, her not let sketty fuckin' sorority girls distract you, fuckin' idiot" Chris said, insulting the girls as if they weren't right there.

"chill man, it all turned out peachy" Nate chuckled, stepping backwards with his hands up in surrender.

"get the fuck out my face, dude, can't even look at you" Chris spat, turning back to face you, taking your face in his hand once more.

"y'sure you're okay, kid?" he asked, soft eyes baring into yours.

you nodded, leaning into his gentle touch, the smell of iron lingering on his hand as it caressed your face.

"you didn't need to go that hard, Chris, you could have gotten hurt" you said, bringing a soft hand up to wrap around his wrist.

Chris chuckled, soothing a thumb over your face and raising his brows. "does it look like that kid could'a hurt me?" he asked, a prideful grin spread across his face.

You returned his smile and shook your head, gripping his wrist tighter.

"besides, you're important t'me, or whatever, so, I wasn't gonna let that fuckin' loser be all over you like that"

"I'm important to you?" you cheesed

"yeah, whatever, kid, try not to pull a muscle from cheesin' so hard" he rolled his eyes with a smirk.

"thankyou, for protecting me, Chris" you said, tugging at his wrist slightly.

"always" he said simply, before pulling you into a soft and quick kiss, his mouth slotting perfectly over yours, the taste of weed and shit beer lingering on his breath.

You chased the taste, whimpering slightly as he pulled away and dropped his hand from your face. You were smiling from ear to ear as he shifted his weight between his feet.

"wipe that smile off ya face, kid, s'not happenin' again" Chris said, referring to the kiss as he wiped a wet spot off your lip with his thumb.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10

[gojonanami]

ALL'S FAIR (IN LOVE AND MERGERS) ✩ SATORU GOJO

✴︎ summary: you're not sure what's worse -- being an arranged marriage or being an arranged marriage with the person who used to be your best friend. ✴︎ contents: 18+ only, nsfw, arranged marriage au, gojo and reader are both heirs to large companies, childhood best friends to enemies to lovers, lots of fluff + banter, gojo is down bad, geto makes an appearance, handjobs (f!+m! receiving), oral (f!+m! receiving), creampie, unprotected sex, dom! + sub!gojo, degradation (slut), breeding kink, gojo has a praise kink, semi public sex, office sex, tiny amount of sexting, under the desk oral (m!receiving), pet names (sweetheart, princess, baby), pregnancy mentions ✴︎ wc: 16,381 (why do i do this to myself?)

“Why do you look so down, Princess?” Your eyes flicker up from your book, forcing your expression to stay disinterested — the one emotion Satoru hated, “shouldn’t you share your feelings with your fiancé?” 

“Don’t call yourself that,” you snap, and his lips curl at your reaction, “what are you so smug about? You’re stuck in the same position as me,” 

“And what’s that?” You close your book, glaring daggers at his all too perfect face. 

“Marrying your worst enemy.” 

It wasn’t always like this. 

Satoru Gojo used to be your friend — your best friend in fact. The fact your families’ companies were rivals often meant you ran in the same social circles more often than not. And it meant more than one boring adult party that the two of you were stuck with each other.

The two of you had become inseparable — attending the same prestigious schools with the most pretentious children, though the two of you were no exceptions. But you liked to think you were. 

And you didn’t realize your feelings for Satoru, until someone else had. 

“Do you want to hang out on Friday?” You ask, flipping through the channels as the two of you watched TV, looking for something other than the second half of movies and the reruns of shows you didn’t care for. 

“I can’t, I’m going to the formal,” he replies, not looking up from his phone, and you pause. 

“You’re going to that?” You raise an eyebrow, “we’ve never went,” 

“Well I never had someone ask me who I wanted to go with,” his eyes flicker up from his phone, a smirk on his lips, “you jealous?” 

Your reply leaves your lips like whiplash, “You wish,” you cross your arms, but you can’t help ask the question burning on your lips, “who are you going with?” 

“Akari,” and you scoff, “what?” 

“That girl goes out with a new guy every week,” you shake your head, “you’re better off staying at home with me,” 

“So you are jealous,” he hums, leaning back on the couch, “if you wanted to go with me, all you had to do was ask, Princess,” 

Your cheeks flush, which you make up for in indignancy and sharp words, “Don’t call me that,” the nickname your family affectionately had called you had become Satoru’s favorite thing to call you, “I’m just telling you to be careful — that girl isn’t someone you should trust with your feelings,” 

“I think I’ll use my own judgment instead of someone who hasn’t even been on a single date before,” his tone is far too biting and his accuracy is far too sharp — and you can’t stop your face from dropping, and his lips part - regret flashing across his features, “princess—“ 

“Go home, Satoru,” you rise, brushing past him, “you know the way out,” 

“Princess—“ he tries to reach for your hand, but you slap it away. His hand retracts like he’d been burned. 

“Please, go,” you open the door for him, and he does, and little do you know that would be one of the last times you spoke. 

The day of the formal arrives, the two of you hadn’t seen each other outside of class since that day. But Satoru did see you at the dance that night - on the arm of his former best friend, Suguru — the same one he had a falling out with a year ago. He doesn’t say a word to you, but you don’t miss the hurt in his eyes - but you wonder why it was there in the first place - and why he was acting like you put it there. 

It all goes to hell after. 

The Gojo Corporation poaches one of your family’s biggest clients in a shady backroom deal, breaking their truce and your family’s trust. Arguments and stress reach a peak over the phone and lines are drawn and metaphorical guns are drawn. 

And you and Satoru are caught in the crossfire. 

Not that you weren’t firing shots yourself. 

It wasn’t until you pulled Satoru into a secluded classroom, and you shut the door behind the two of you. Even with the sunglasses perched on his nose as always, he flinches in the bright light of the sun setting behind you, dipping the classroom in a blazing orange  — light sensitivity nearly required him to wear his sunglasses out, but he certainly made a statement in them — though what didn’t he make a statement in?  

“What are we going to do about our families?” you chew your lip — you had listened this morning to your father rant about the Gojo family — unkind words to say about them all, even Satoru himself, who your father had treated as a second son — and now he was grilling you about what you had told him about the family business. 

“What can we do?” His arms are crossed and his gaze is upwards, “they are going to do what they want,” 

You stare at him, your heart cracks, blood rushing in your ears, “Satoru, if this gets worse, we won’t be able to be friends,” you refuse to let your voice break. 

“So what? I know the way out, don’t I?” But your heart did break, “I’m sure Suguru could comfort you,” 

Your eyes burn, but you can’t, you can’t let him see you cry, “Why are you so upset? You had a date—“ 

“And mine wasn’t the person who backstabbed me,” he bites back, “what my family did is done, and so are we,” and he doesn’t look back when he leaves. 

And it was good — because he didn’t see you cry. 

And now you sat with him in your living room, trying to process the fact you would be legally married soon enough. 

“Worst enemy? I know you liked to embellish princess, but that seems excessive,” he snorts, “glad to know I haven’t escaped your thoughts these years,” 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” and he grins his shit eating grin, and it’s almost as if no time has passed, except the person who sits before you isn’t a seventeen year old with an attitude of a shithead — it’s an adult man (albeit with the same attitude). 

“Don’t need to - you already do that for me, baby,” he winks, and you don’t know whether you want to slap him or strangle him. Either way, you wanted him to shut up, “shouldn’t we at least try to make the best of this?” 

“The best of what?” You scoff, ready for your veins to burst out of your head, if only to spare you the agony of this conversation, “Gojo, we were best friends a million years ago and then we weren’t and now we’re getting married - all on the whims of our families, so how do we make the best of it?” 

He pauses a moment, almost thoughtfully, “I was your best friend?” 

And you rise to your feet, “this is impossible,” you brush past him, but he catches you by your wrist, his thumb grazing your pulse. 

“Princess, I’m sorry,” he says, and you stop, meeting his gaze reluctantly, his lips part, “that you were so annoying in high school—“ 

“Fuck you,” and you storm off as he cackles, but you don’t notice the small smile on his lips that stays as he watches you. 

And nor do you hear him say, “God, I missed you.” 

“This is ridiculous,” you mutter under your breath, as you place back the millionth dress you looked at, “we’re hardly celebrities but we have to make a public appearance?” 

Your families wanted the marriage to be portrayed as a love marriage in the media - childhood friends falling in love after reconnecting - the thing of love stories. The thing that would circle the drain on social media on cute threads of meetcutes and what ifs. When in fact, you were being forced on a shopping date with an already well paid and positioned paparazzi ready to take pictures of this charade. 

“You may not be, Princess, but I am quite the catch,” Satoru takes the attention in stride, not only of the paparazzi, but the passersby who gawked at the two of you. It was true, Satoru was nearly always listed as an eligible bachelor in far too many of these lists that existed, if not the eligible bachelor, and yet here you were, glued to his side like some taudry accessory. 

“So does that mean if I just toss you away, someone else will catch you?” You grumble, and he looks at you over the rim of his sunglasses. 

“Like it or not, you caught me,” he flashes you those pearly whites, and you supposed he blinded you as you stumble forward, tripping. But you don’t kiss the pavement — but you almost wish you do. He catches you, his arm around your waist, the other on your shoulder, and his eyes graze over you in a flash of concern, and then amusement, “and I’m not going anywhere this time,” 

And you flush, the clicks of cameras in the distance snapping you back to reality, as you right yourself with a fake smile plastered on your lips. You brush his shirt off as lovingly as you can, “And if I go?” 

His lips only curl into his obnoxiously charming smile, as he gestures for you to walk on, “I’ll follow, Princess,” 

Finally the trip is over, and Satoru is driving the both of you back, “I’m surprised you took a day off for this,” he remarks, “usually you work all week,” 

“Well I wasn’t given much of a choice, now was I?” And then you glance at him, furrowing your brow, “how do you know how often I work?” 

“What’s the phrase? Keep your enemies close, and your lovers closer?” He gives a wry grin as you scowl at him, “you’re not surprised I kept tabs on you, are you?” 

“Well, no,” because you did the exact same. You pinned the blame on late nights and doom scrolling on social media — curiosity killed the cat. 

“And now I know you kept tabs on me,” he looks far too satisfied with himself, “I’m flattered,” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you wave him off, “it’s not like you’re that interesting to begin with,” 

“Sure,” he smirks, and then you glance outside, noticing you were getting further out from home rather than closer. 

“Where are we going?” You sit up, glancing around — you didn’t recognize the area. 

“Oh, you didn’t think our date was over yet, did you?” his lips curl, his eyes still on the road, “we are just going to a more private location,” 

“If you take me to a hotel, I will slap you,” you murmur, and he laughs, a sound that makes your stomach flip. 

“I didn’t know a princess’s mind could be in the gutter,” he remarks, his fingers flexing on the wheel, a small infinity tattoo on his ring finger, and your mind really then all but fled to the gutter as you thought what else he could use those fingers for. 

“Oh my mind goes a lot of places,” this was growing more dangerous — for your tongue and for your heart. 

And he notices your gaze flickering to his hands, and his lips curl, “I think I’d like to familiarize myself with the places your mind goes, Princess,” You flush, “but that’s for a different day.” 

“Where are you taking me anyway?” 

“We’re almost there, just enjoy the ride,” you eventually pull up to a park, and he leaves the car, opening the door for you, “after you, my lady,” 

You slide out of the car, as he shuts the door behind you, and then pulls a basket out of the back, “Is there tape and rope in there?” You raise an eyebrow. 

“Didn’t know you were into that,” he winks, as you glare at him, “it’s a picnic basket - this is a nice spot to watch the sunset,” 

“You watch sunsets?” 

“Only with you,” you roll your eyes. 

“Such a dork - are these the lines you use on all your dates? And don’t say only with me,” you add quickly, and he snorts. 

“You catch on quick,” and he takes your hand, leading you along, “come on,” 

His hand envelops yours, his fingers eventually intertwining with yours, his warmth flooding your body, but you can’t urge yourself to pull away. 

A bottle of sparkling cider and a charcuterie board later, the two of you watch the sun begin its descent, blazing colors bleeding into one another. 

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, looking over your glass as you sip, “even when we used to hang out, I was the one to bring the snacks,” 

“Well times change,” he replies, “plus you’re the one who always stopped me from buying snacks,” 

“You always bought only sweets — it was always chocolate, sugar, and desserts,” you roll your eyes, “I see you got over that,” 

“Nah, I just decided to buy things I know you like,” and your heart traitorously squeezes, but then he points, “look,” and your gaze falls onto the sunset and you gasp softly. 

“It’s beautiful,” you sigh, and you don’t notice Satoru’s gaze on your face, a small smile on his lips. 

“It is,” and you look back at him, his eyes shifting to you again. 

“You never answered my question,” you say, “why are we doing this?” 

“Why wouldn’t we? We’re getting married, Princess, did you forget?” He expertly dodges the question, swiftly leaping over a landmine, but you weren’t one to mince words or hesitate to do a direct assault. 

“We’re getting married, it doesn’t mean we have to date,” you tilt your head, “Gojo, tell me—“

“Call me Satoru,” his words are so soft, hesitant even, as if his words could break apart any second if he had spoken them any quieter. 

It’s a fragility he doesn’t often grace you with - that’s he’s maybe never given to you, and you don’t wish to break it.

But you’re also scared - scared that this will break yours. 

“Satoru,” you whisper, and he smiles — the same smile he’d greet you with when you would meet up after school, the same smile when he’d beat you at whatever game you guys were playing, and the same smile you hadn’t seen in so long, “why are you doing all of this?” 

“Is it not obvious?” He’s leaning closer and you only realize that you’re doing the same when your wrist hurts from leaning on your hand. 

“Nothing is obvious when it comes to you, Satoru,” his lips warm yours with his breath, and the sun has set - there’s no other explanation for the warmth blooming on your skin other than him— 

Ring. Ring. Ring. 

His phone ringing sends both of you flinching apart, but his eyes don’t leave you for a lingering moment, before he picks up. 

“Hello,” his voice is unwavering even after the moment you shared, you barely hear what he says over the blood thundering in your ears, “yes, we’ll be home shortly. Ok. Bye,” 

He turns to look back at you, “My parents were wondering where we went,” and you nod, “we should get back,” and he begins to pack away the things, 

“Satoru—“ you start, but he grabs your hands, tugging you forward. 

“What?” he smiles, “not ready to part with me yet, princess?” 

You scowl, pushing him away, brushing past him to the car, “Forget it,” 

And he catches you by your wrist and pulls you back to him, your back against his front, “I don’t want to forget it,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “I��” 

And his phone rings again, and he sighs, showing you that it was your father this time, putting his phone on silent, “Our parents have impeccable timing,” and the moment is broken, as the two of you walk back to the car in relative silence, the sun long sunk below the horizon, and the moment along with it. 

The wedding comes and goes without much ado — it was a private ceremony done with only your families and a few close family friends. And aside from a photo shoot that was to be “leaked” of the two of you looking far too lovey dovey that wound up circulating the media drain and ended up causing you and Satoru to keep a low profile for a week or two, not much of your life changed. The only thing being that you and Satoru slowly start to move in together, each moving your things into separate bedrooms, not that you’re around enough to even notice a shift as the work piled on due to the merger, only accumulates, and as do your late nights. 

You come home again, back to your shared apartment, late at night, shutting the door softly behind you. You slip your shoes off, along with your jacket by the door, before setting your things down. You stretch your sore muscles, your stomach crying for mercy of the deprivation you had put it through today, and you allow it to lead you to the kitchen. 

Satoru was surprisingly neat, aside from his own room that was a disaster zone not worth entering. The living spaces were always clean, as was the kitchen (though you had a sneaking suspicion he had hired a cleaning service to specifically tidy up when you were gone (due to the lingering lemony scent every surface had at times). You rummage through the refrigerator as quietly as you could, but not quietly enough as the lights flick on, and you feel akin to a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. 

“I feel like I’ve seen the mailman more than my own wife this week,” Satoru stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame of the door, a small grin on his lips, but a hint of something else in his eyes — concern? You don’t have the time to decipher the feeling, as your mind chooses to replay the phrase “my wife” on repeat. 

“The merger has been killer to deal with — all the diligence requests has buried us,” you grumble, as you grab a box of cereal off the top of the refrigerator and the milk from the inside, and he’s holding a bowl and a spoon, “thanks,” as you reach for it, he holds it away from you. 

“You know there’s something called delegating that you should try sometime, princess,” he says, tilting his head, “otherwise, you’re likely to run yourself into the ground,” 

“It sounds like you care,” he puts down the bowl and spoon, grabbing the cereal and milk from you, and fixing a bowl for you, as you rub your eyes, sitting on the stool by the island. 

His lips curl, “Who said I didn’t?” 

You lay on the counter, staring up at him, “Didn’t know my husband could be anything but annoying,” and you enjoy the way his eyebrows shoot up, and it may have been your tired eyes, but you swore a small pink flush settled his way onto his cheeks, “cute,” you mumble, the word escaping you before you could stop it. 

“What?” his eyes snap to yours, but he only finds them closed, the soft snores from your lips told him you weren’t pretending, as he stares at you, biting his lip, before sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose, “what are you doing to me, princess?” he murmurs. 

And the next morning when you wake, you find yourself tucked into bed, as you roll over, to find your alarms had been turned off, and you were far too late to several meetings you had that morning. 

You jolt up, before you find a note stuck to your shirt, you pause in your panic, to peel it off and read it:

Canceled your meetings for today and had your staff handle the ones they could deal with. You’re taking a break. You need it. - Satoru. 

You wanted to protest, but even as you willed yourself to try and check your email, your body was screaming in agreement with Satoru, and you sighed, lying back down in bed, as you drifted into a dreamless sleep, with the note still in your hand. 

~~~~~

“Gojo, get back in bed,” you cross your arms in front of his doorway, “you’re sick,” 

“I’m fine,” he pouts, his normally pale skin flushed with a red tinge that gave away his fever, his eyes bloodshot from a restless night, and yet he still looked as perfect as ever, if not a bit rumpled from his askew hair and ruffled clothes, “I have to—” 

“Rest,” you say, gently pushing him backwards towards his bed, “you need rest. You made me rest, and now it’s your turn,” 

“But—” 

“Satoru,” and the use of his name stops him in his tracks, as his knees buckle as his legs hit the end of his bed, “please?” 

His resistance crumbles, “Princess, I’m fine—” and you press your forehead to his, making his breath catch, your face far too close far too fast. 

“You’re burning up,” you ease him back into bed, as you roll your sleeves up, “will you be okay? I’m going to run out and get some supplies - have you taken any medicine?” 

He shakes his head, “You can send out someone,” he says, reaching for his phone, but you grab it, “Princess-“ 

“I’m texting everyone that you’re sick and that you can’t make it in for the next two days while you recover,” you pocket his phone, putting it on silent, “consider this payback,” and you’re pulling on your jacket, “and I’m going to get you some things. I don’t need to send someone out. Do you want anything? I can’t get anything sweet because it will make your cough worse, but is there anything that you want?” 

He shakes his head, as you snap your fingers and head out of the room, before returning with cold medicine, “I’ll give you this for now, and then I’ll grab some more while I’m out,” 

You pour the medicine into the cup, and he sits up as best he could, reaching for the medicine cup, but you cup his chin, feeding it to him. He feels like his body is burning hotter from your touch than it is the fever,  “I have to make sure you drink all of it, you can’t leave half of it in the cup like you did when we were kids,” 

“You remember that?” he mumbles, as you help him lie down again, your hands gentle as you help lean back, and you tilt your head. 

“I remember every ridiculous thing you did,” you snort, as you check to make sure you got everything — phone, wallet, keys — “just rest here, and call me if you need anything, ok?” his eyes are already starting to droop, heavy with sleep, and he gives a small nod. 

And he catches you by your wrist, “Do you have to go?” he mumbles, pulling your hand close to his face, “I don’t want you to go,” his words slur, and he’s asleep in a moment, his hand still clutching yours to his face, lips brushing against your palm. 

Heat flares up your cheeks, as you stand, motionless, his soft snores filling the room, as you manage to tug your hand away, and you stand over him, his mouth in an adorable pout, as sweat glistened on his forehead, white locks sticking to the damp skin. You leave for a moment to grab a cold compress for his forehead, and you come back, brushing his hair back to place the compress on. He shivers ever so slightly, but you just rub his head slowly, and he drifts back into sleep. 

“I’ll be right back,” you whisper, and you wonder, how often has Satoru been cared for by maids or employees rather than his family? How often had they passed the buck of caring for their son to others as if it was more of a chore than a privilege to take care of someone they loved. 

You leave his phone on video call with yours so you can keep an eye on him as he sleeps, even if you were going down the street, you didn’t want to leave him alone completely. Instead of music, you listened to the cacophony of his soft snores and shifting of his sheets. You grabbed the things you needed - medicine, supply for meals, vitamin water, vitamin c supplements, and anything else you could think of. 

You return, door shutting softly behind you as you hang up the call, and set everything down on the counter. You poke your head into Satoru’s room to find him still fast asleep, and you remove the cold compress, going to replace it with a new one, but his hand catches yours as it brushes your forehead, and he mumbles your name. 

And you flush — were you sure you weren’t getting sick at this point? 

You sigh, running your fingers through his hair, “You’re as touchy as you were when we were kids,” and he was — there wasn’t a moment that Satoru wasn’t all over you before the ages of puberty — holding hands, hugging, even laying on top of you — but it was innocent. But even as you got older, it was poking, it was a leg over yours, it was grabbing your wrist instead of your hand. 

And now, your hand was dwarfed by his, consuming your wrist and hand with his own, and it was so warm — though exacerbated by his fever. And you couldn’t help but want to lace your fingers through his. But — you pulled your hand away and replace his cold compress — you couldn’t afford thoughts like that. 

Not now. 

You cooked soup for him, filled with vegetables and nutrients that he clearly did not get enough of, made freshly squeezed orange juice, and put the supplements you wanted him to take on the tray you had found in the kitchen. 

You washed your hands, as you start to clean up, your back to his room, and you hear Satoru say your name. 

You turn and see him in the doorway, “What are you doing?” 

“I should be asking you that,” he murmurs, rubbing his eyes, “what’s all this?” 

“Lunch,” you walk over, waving him back into bed, “you need to rest,” 

“Did you make me lunch?” he asks slowly, and you help him back into bed, as he frowns, “you didn’t have—” 

“You’re my husband, Satoru,” you say, tilting your head, “I’m going to take care of you and not let you work yourself to the bone while you have a cold,” 

And his lips curl at the words slowly, “Your husband,” he repeats, as if the words were foreign to him, and your cheeks flush as your words that were embarrassing enough to say linger in the air, “thank you,” he mumbles, as you nod, trying to calm your utterly burning cheeks before entering with the tray. 

Satoru sits in bed still, more coherent than a few minutes before, a small smile on his lips as you enter his view, and you place the tray carefully on his bed, “Will you feed me?” And your eyes flit up to his innocent baby blues full of skies that you couldn’t say no to — and he knew that, “please?” 

And now you’re feeding him, your lips carefully blowing on the hot soup as you spoon fed him, and he takes each one, “is it good?” 

He nods, “It is, I didn’t know you could cook. The last thing I remember you making me was a microwave brownie that you burned,” and you rolled your eyes. 

“That was because you told me to microwave it for too long,” you pout, and he laughs, sending him into a coughing fit, “karma,” and he scowls at you, before his lips split into a grin, “what?” 

“Must have been pretty good in my past life,” he says, as you blow on another spoonful, “to end up with a pretty little wife like you, Princess,” 

And you nearly drop the spoon, a few droplets slipping from the utensil, as he makes you flustered for the eighteenth time today — “Satoru,” you chide, and you’re not even sure what you are chiding him for — his word on a loop in your mind, “i think you’re high on cold medicine, or your fever,”

You don’t think he had ever called you pretty before. 

And he leans forward pressing his forehead to yours, “I have no fever right now,” he whispers, his eyes glancing at the tray, “and I haven’t taken my cold medicine yet,” 

Your words catch in your throat, and you’re swallowing thickly, as your eyes drift to his lips and back again, “Toru,” and you can’t lean away from him, he’s pulling you in, like he always did. 

But then he pulls back, his cheeks flushed, “I think I should lie down,” and you blink, as you nod hastily. 

“Of course,” you grab the tray and flee, leaving his medicine and water on the bedside table, heart thumping against your ribs and blood rushing to your cheeks. 

And you don’t hear him grumble, “If only I wasn’t sick.” 

After Satoru gets better, you barely see him. It feels empty in the house without his presence. You had grown accustomed to his loud, obtrusive presence, the clothes half thrown in the laundry basket, his snacks stacked up in the pantry and sometimes on the counters, and his cologne wafting through the halls. It seems all of that has faded with time, as he does his best to spend his time at work, and away from you. 

After the billionth time of this, you get a phone call from his colleague, Nanami, asking for you to come and fetch him. You furrow your brow as he texts you the address of a bar near his work, and you arrive to find him passed out at a table, drink glasses and small plates littered the tabletop, his pale skin flushed, as he snored slightly as he slept. 

His colleague too was flushed, but still sat with drink in hand looking utterly irritated and bemused, “How much did he drink?” 

“Maybe two drinks?” and you raise an eyebrow, “he’s a lightweight, but he likes to pretend he isn’t,” he snorts, shaking his head, “did you two have a fight?” 

You tilt your head, as you check on him, fingers brushing over his skin — he was so warm from the alcohol, “No, why do you ask?” 

And Satoru is mumbling your name, again and again, pouting, “Is that you, my wife?” you flush, and that was your cue to get him out of there. Nanami helps you get him to his work car, luckily that came equipped with a driver, and you slide in beside him, as he dozes, his head drifting to your shoulder. His breath is warm against your neck, as he nestles into the soft skin of your nape, and you can feel his lips move, only catching your name between soft sighs and snores. 

“Satoru,” you mutter, brushing his hair from his eyes, “what did you do?” 

The driver helps you get him inside, and you’re left with him, his body leaning against yours on the couch, as you rouse him, “Satoru, wake up,” your hands cup his cheeks, and his eyes flutter open blearily. 

You can still smell the scent of alcohol on his breath — and you know it’s sweet from the scent that drifts from him. Sometimes you wonder if he would taste sweet with how much sugar he consumes, but you brush that thought to the back of your head, as he finally speaks. 

“Are you a dream?” he murmurs, and you have to suppress your laugh at his puppy dog stare. 

“Don’t think so, Satoru,” you pinch his cheek lightly, “see? I’m real,” 

He smiles, so gentle that it almost takes you aback, “Too real,” his hand slides over yours, flattening it against his cheek, “your hand is so soft, just like when we were kids, and we’d always hold hands anywhere we went,” 

You swallow thickly, wondering if your cheeks were hotter than his were from the alcohol, “Well my family hasn’t sold me into manual labor yet, so they’ll stay that way,” and his eyes widen almost comically. 

“I wouldn’t let them do that,” he says, almost every other word slurred, “can’t do that to my wife,” and your traitorous heart squeezes, despite itself, despite everything telling you that it didn’t mean anything — that he was drunk — and the million other reasons to brush it away, your heart does what it does best — takes it to heart, “I missed you so much,” 

And he’s burying his face in your shoulder, warm breath against your skin making you shiver as you hold him gently, “then why have you been avoiding me?” He’s mumbling into your shoulder now, as you can’t help but laugh, “Stop, you’re tickling me.”

And his stare lifts and settles upon you, stopping your breath in its tracks, “I didn’t want to avoid you, I just was…” he mumbles something incoherent, “I couldn’t face you,” 

“Why?” and it’s objectively cute the way he pouts, his face scrunching up like a child, his brow adorably furrowed, as he mutters under his breath slurred words you can’t make out, “let’s get you to bed — if you promise not to avoid me anymore,” you hold up a finger to his face. 

He nods, lips still in the same pout, “promise,” he murmurs, as you help him into bed, but as you do, he grabs you, tugging you into bed with him with a yelp, his arms trapped you against him, as his face snuggles into your back, “stay,”

Your skin burns at his touch, his face buried into your back, his arms wrapped impossibly around you, “Satoru—” 

“Please?” and the resistance you have crumbles, as you sigh, relaxing as best you could into his touch, “thank you, Princess,” he mumbles something else you can’t make out, before falling asleep. 

And you bite your lip, ignoring how your skin feels under his touch — how were you ever going to sleep now? 

But you do. 

Satoru wakes with a slightly pounding head, a small groan caught in the back of his throat, as he stirs at the bright sunlight streaming in, his eyes fluttering awake to find you. His breath catches, as he stares at you. Your mouth slightly ajar, you softly snore as you sleep, your head resting against his arm, and he swallows thickly, as memories of last night trickle in.

And he nearly groans. He had avoided you to stop himself, to hold himself back from embarrassing himself, and he had gone and pulled you into bed with him after getting drunk. How pathetic was it that it only took you referring to him as your husband for all his walls to come crumbling down? Not that those walls ever stood a chance against you — it was easy for him to pull away from everyone, as if he had a barrier around him, stopping anything from coming near. But you — you were one thing that could penetrate his infinity — and the one thing he wanted to be infinite, if only for him. 

His cheeks burn at his revelations and he can only be thankful you’re still asleep as he stares at you — god, he had almost let it slip twice last night. He had mumbled it twice, but from what he remembered, you hadn’t made out the words. 

His cheeks burned, god he had said the words twice, and you didn’t even hear him, but the words had left his lips. And how many years had he been waiting to say them?

His fingers caress your cheek, making sure you were still asleep before he said them for a third time, “I love you.” 

“How many social events must be inflicted upon us?” you mutter, pressed next to Satoru at the bar, as Satoru sips a soda instead of the alcohol they offered — if only to avoid the disaster that was the last time. But still, the lack of alcohol only makes your touch worse without its dulling effects, “and why did we need to go to this?” 

“C’mon sweetheart, it’s not so bad,” Satoru smiles, his eyes skimming over your new suit that you had donned for the occasion, “I like seeing you all dressed up,” 

“Well I rather be dressed down at home,” and he raises an eyebrow and you flush, “i mean in a t-shirt and shorts, you absolute perv,” 

“Whatever you say, princess,” and you’re too busy elbowing him to notice who's walking over, until you hear your name. 

You spot Satoru’s eyes narrow, his lips pursed, as you spot Suguru holding a hand up in greeting, patented grin on his lips, “Yo!” 

“Suguru, it’s good to see you,” you greet, as he sweeps you up in a hug, and you shoot a look at Satoru, nudging him to be polite at the very least. 

“Satoru, long time no see,” Suguru says, and Satoru plasters a fake smile on his lips. 

“It has been,” and the three of you make pleasant small talk about your work — Suguru’s family was in a business adjacent to the work your families did. 

“I heard about the merger your companies are doing, how have preparations been?” you open your mouth to answer, but Satoru gets to it first, his arm curling around your waist. 

“It’s been going well, our marriage was the first step after all, wasn’t it, baby?” and you flush as Satoru does, doing your best not to glare at him. 

“It was,” you smile, as Suguru raises his eyebrows. 

“I hadn’t heard you both had married — congratulations,” 

And then you’re beckoned by your family, and you slip away for a moment, going to speak to them about one thing or another, leaving Satoru and Suguru alone. 

“It’s too bad we lost touch all these years,” Satoru sips at his drink. 

“You don’t have to say that, Satoru,” Suguru replies, his grin melting away, “I know part of the reason was the business with our families companies, but I also know that it was personal,” and Satoru follows his eyes to you, as you laugh at something your mother said, “how has married life been treating you both?” 

And Satoru glares, his grip tight around his glass, “Is your interest personal?” 

“It’s not, but I see that you still haven’t been honest with each other,” he smiles over the lip of his drink, “was this marriage arranged by your families?” and Satoru’s silence was enough to confirm it, “well you should be careful, a marriage is a fragile thing, especially without love,” 

“Is that a threat?” and Suguru’s dark irises meet his, full of mirth. 

“No, just an observation, Satoru,” and you make your re-appearance, looking between the pair, sensing the tension, as your hand curls around Satoru’s, “It was lovely seeing you both. I hope to see more of you.” 

And with that he’s gone, “What was that about?” you ask slowly, and Satoru can’t meet your gaze, only sipping his soda, “Satoru?” 

“It’s nothing, princess, don’t worry about it,” and you tilt your head, your brow furrowed. 

“That’s it,” you sigh, as you glance between the two of them, Suguru’s gaze still lingering on the two of you, “I know what this is about,” you declare, stepping ever closer to Satoru, your fingers brushing at his shoulder, sending his heart into a gallop. 

“Princess—” your hand is sliding up his neck, brushing at his undercut, and your lips curl. 

“I didn’t know you had an undercut,” and he can’t form words to respond to you, as you tug him closer, your lips were so close now, “it’s kind of hot,” and his mouth is so dry, his eyes can’t help but flicker down to your lips again, as you lean forward, pulling his head closer, closer, closer—

And you kiss him, it's barely a brush at first, but then you pull him in again, and he can taste the wine on your lips now, as your lips meet, his eyes fluttering shut as his hand slides to cup your face, the other around your waist. And finally you part, small pants leaving your lips, as your fingers toy with the hair resting on the back of his neck, smiling at him, as if you had done this a million times before. 

And he wanted to do it a million times more. His fingers trace the length of your jaw, delighting in the shiver you give as he touches you, and wondering what other noises he could pull from you. 

“Is he still watching?” you whisper, as you smooth over his collar, and he blinks, his eyes following yours to Suguru, who glances at the two of you before looking away, “think we convinced him?” 

And his heart sinks just as high as it had soared, “what?” he murmurs, confused. 

“He suspected us, right?” you continue with the phony smile on your lips, the heated lust in your gaze, and your soft touches — and it was all enough to break him. 

But he doesn’t. He’s Satoru Gojo — he can’t be allowed to break. 

So he gives a smile instead, “Yeah, I think we convinced him.” 

He can’t help be quiet on the drive home, and he senses your unease, fidgeting in the seat beside him, your attempts to fill the silence falling on deaf ears, and you eventually stop trying, settling to look out of the window instead, until the two of you pull inside your driveway. 

You both head inside, and the door shuts behind you, and he watches you struggle to take off your heels, the buckle not cooperating, as you lift your leg to undo it. 

But then he’s kneeling before you, undoing your heels for you, as you stammer, “No, Gojo, you don’t have to—”

But his touch is gentle as he helps you out of your heels, one by one, his fingers brushing against your ankles, and then he rises, and for a split second, you forgot how tall he really was. 

“No, I want to, because you’re my wife,” and his fingers brush against your jaw. “And I want your thoughts to be of me when I touch you, and not of someone else,” and he tilts your chin up, thumb dragging against your lips before he kisses you. 

It was gentle but insistent — and far, far too fleeting, as he pulls away, “and I’ve told you before — I’m your husband, call me Satoru.” 

And with that he’s gone, leaving you speechless and alone in your entryway. 

You can’t sleep. For several nights. 

You replay the moment over and over, the kiss, his words, and all of it. 

What the fuck. Were you really up all night because of Satoru Gojo? You lay on your stomach, kicking your feet in frustration as you bury your hot face in your pillow. Your husband was going to be the death of you. 

And especially with tomorrow. 

Satoru’s family was hosting an event to announce the merger, and you stood in your bathroom, getting ready. You had opted for a baby blue dress that Satoru had picked for you when he had insisted on taking you shopping. He had winked and said you could wear his gaze this way. And you had only rolled your eyes at the time, but now it felt you could feel his eyes upon you. 

“You look beautiful,” and you whirl around to find him standing in your doorway, a small smile on your lips, and you flush. It doesn’t go unnoticed, “is that all it takes to embarrass you now, Princess? I used to have to work a lot harder,” 

You glare at him, “Shut up,” and your eyes flick to his untied tie, and it’s unspoken, as you walk over to tie his tie for him, “how did you even tie this the day of the formal if you don’t know how to?” 

“I didn’t wear one,” he shrugs, his attention making you mess up the knot twice, “I only went to make you jealous anyway,” 

Your fingers pause, as your eyes meet, “What?” 

“I don’t want to play games anymore, Princess,” the back of his fingers brush against your cheek, “or at least, if I’m going to play, I’m going to play to win,” and you continue tying his tie, if only to distract yourself from your stomach doing flips, “do you know how it feels to want someone for so long only to end up married, but it’s not either of your choice?” And you swallow, not daring to look at him, “because I do.” 

“Satoru,” your hands are shaking now, “I-“

“I don’t expect an answer, I don’t expect anything to change,” he adjusts his tie as you finish, turning his collar down, his blue button up matching your dress perfectly, “but I wanted you to know where I stood, and know wherever you are,” his gaze rakes over your form, the same color as the dress than clung to your skin, “I’ll always be here for you,” 

“Satoru—“ but he gets a call — as always with impeccable timing, his parents were asking when they would be arriving. He hangs up shortly after, offering his arm with a smile. 

“Shall we?” And you take his arm, ignoring the flip your heart does when his arm curls around yours. 

The drive over is uneventful, but not the same can be said for the event itself. The merger event was being held at Satoru’s childhood home — the home Satoru had grown up in and around — and never wanted to be at. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, your arm still curled around Satoru’s arm, as you glance at him, his shoulders tense and lips tight, before your concern makes the tension melt away a moment, rolling off his shoulders like snow on a spring day. 

“I’m fine,” and you’re unconvinced, “just this place is like time has stood still,” he chuckles, his eyes finding the place where the two of you had cracked the chandelier fucking around with a ball inside, “look, still there,” 

You snort, “I’m surprised your mother never noticed,” 

“She did, she gave me hell for it,” he sips his drink, “I just didn’t tell you,” 

“Why?” 

“There was a lot I didn’t tell you,” his eyes snap to yours, his pain almost too visceral as he glances around the room he had grown up in — and you could feel him in this room, the ghost of his past roaming the halls, “why do you think I spent so much time at your house?” 

“Because of my incredible company?” you half-joke, lips forced into a small smile, but he laughs, rolling his eyes. 

“That too,” he hums, his fingers tracing up and down against your wrist sending a wave of heat down your spine. 

“Well, you always have an escape now, don’t you?” you intertwine your fingers, “our home is always graced with the presence of your wife,” 

He grins, the first actual smile you had seen all evening, “How lucky for you that it’s also graced with the presence of your incredibly handsome husband,”

And you open your mouth to respond, before Satoru’s father interrupts, his hand on Satoru’s shoulder, making him stiffen, “Son,” and his icy blue eyes slide to you, “and my daughter, would you mind if I steal my son for a moment?” it always struck you how different his eyes were from Satoru — the coldness as opposed to the warmth. 

You glance at Satoru, and he gives a slight nod, “No, of course not,” you step away, as he pulls Satoru into a side room, and you linger nearby for him, mingling as best you can, when Satoru emerges, eyes downcast and fists clenched, “Satoru-“ 

“I’m okay,” he plasters on an easy smile, “it’s fine—“ 

“We’re leaving,” you grab his hand, “let’s go,” and he’s staring at you, as you drag him from the party, wordless. 

“But your parents, my parents—” 

“Have done enough for us already,” you say, and the two of you walk to the car in silence, “I can drive—” 

“It’s ok, I got it,” and you both shut the doors, as he begins to drive. The ride home is quiet, and you glance at him here and there, but you hold your tongue, “you’re not going to ask?” 

“It’s your dad - do I need to ask?” You scoff, “It may has been years but I know he’s nothing but a bully — especially to you,” 

You may have been young, but you remembered the phone calls Satoru would get, the lectures about his potential and responsibilities as the next heir, the scoldings he’d get for anything less than perfect. And you remembered the look he had the next day — the same one he had when he had come out of that room. 

And you couldn’t protect him then, but you could do it now. 

He sighs as he pulls the car into the driveway, “You don’t deserve that, Toru,” 

“Then what do I deserve?” And he meets your gaze with glassy eyes, and you give a small smile, your fingers reaching for him, brushing along his jaw. 

“Love,” and you lean across the gap of the console, across the line you had drawn, across the misunderstandings you had, and you chose him. Your fingers cup his cheek, drawing him close, as you hear his breathe hitch, “can I—” 

“You don’t need to ask me even once, Princess,” and you kiss him, your lips grazing his again and again, until your lips finally slide against each other, deepening it as he presses himself against you, hand bearing against the armrest between the two of you. And you can taste the sweet taste of the strawberry dessert that he all but inhaled at the party, the hint of the soda he drank instead of wine, and something that tasted utterly and perfectly of him. 

“Toru,” you murmur, but his lips keep finding yours, and you can’t breathe much less think, “I—” 

He silences you with another kiss, his fingers finding purchase on the back of your neck as he tugs you impossibly closer, before his lips are tracing a path down your jaw. 

“What was that, sweetheart?” he smiles against your skin, “you what?” 

“You’re insufferable, you’re endlessly frustrating, and I swear I want to murder you at least twice a day,” and he smiles, as you gasp as his teeth graze your pulse, “but you’re also my best friend, and I—“ you make him meet your eyes, fingers cupping his chin, ocean blue eyes drowning you with their gaze,  “I love you,” 

And he blinks ever so slowly, before his lips curl into the most beautiful smile you had seen, before he’s kissing you again, as you gasp, “Toru—” 

“I’m never going to stop now, Princess,” he grins endlessly, as he presses his forehead to yours, dragging a thumb down your kiss ruined lips, “waited too long for you, but I’d wait a million years to do that again,” 

“So should I make you wait?” you tease, and he’s looking like a kicked puppy, pouting and wide eyed, before he’s pressing butterfly kisses to your face, and you’re laughing, “I’m just kidding, baby—” 

And he pauses, “‘Baby?’” and his grin is a million watt, as he kisses you again, “never thought I’d see the day you’d call me a pet name,” 

Your noses brush as you both laugh, “Well, you are a big baby,” and he pouts again, and you kiss them, “but you’re my baby,” 

And you barely remember how you manage to stumble into your home. Frantic touches and hurried kisses and fumbling keys. As soon as the door slams shut, he has you pressed against it, fingers busy with undoing your buttons, as he grins against your mouth. 

“Know how long I wanted you? How long I dreamt of this?” he bites your bottom lip, “had to call you my wife before i could call you mine — thought about you dating Suguru, about all the times I wanted to lean over during our movie nights as kids and just kiss you — and how much I regretted it,” 

“So you admit you’ve been pining for me,” you gasp as his teeth drag against your neck now, biting and sucking, as your fingers thread through his white locks, “Satoru,” you moan, biting your lip. 

“Judging by that moan, I’m not the only one,” he smiles cheekily, his hands sliding down your back to rest at the back of your thighs, large palms and thick fingers pressing through the all too thin tulle of your dress, “can’t wait to see how fuckin’ wet you are for me, Princess.” 

You gasp at his vulgar words, a rush of heat that leaves your legs shaking under his touch, “Now whose mind is the gutter?” You tease, your fingers tugging at his tie, unfurling the knot. 

“Always has been when it’s come to you, want to make this perfect princess filthy,” he coos, and he’s pulling you up against the door, your hands wrapped around his neck, “wanna make my beautiful little wife scream my name, don’t I?” 

“Toru—“ you gasp as his teeth graze along your chest, tugging the neckline of your dress impossibly low, “you’re going to rip it—“ and he does, pulling the fabric apart with ease, “what the fu—“ and he’s swallowing your swears with his tongue. 

“I’ll buy you another,” he grins, “in fact I’ll buy you any amount you want, as long as you keep letting me do this,” 

And he’s peeling the dress off of you, dress falling to the floor in a shamble of tulle, and your skin flushes at the air hitting your bare skin, and shivers at the feeling of his sharp breath against your neck. 

“How are you so fucking perfect?” he sighs, burying his face in the nape of your neck, pressing butterfly kisses down your collarbone, “I should get an award for patience — not being able to touch you, to kiss you, but living with you?” 

His fingers are skimming down your underwear now, snapping the waistband against your skin, you gasp, “Fuck, Toru,” you whimper, “thought you’d talk less during this,” your fingers are undoing his shirt now. 

“Oh I can think of a few things that could shut me up,” his lips curl deviously, and you’re slipping his shirt off his shoulders, your lips pressing to his collarbone. 

“I don’t think you’d even shut up from that,” as he shivers when your teeth graze his soft skin, “I think you’ll only whine more,” 

And his gaze is hot as his eyes meet yours again, as he grasps at your thighs and picks you up, “let’s see who’s the one whining at the end of this,” you squeal, grasping into his shoulders, as he carries you into his bedroom, as he settles you down on his bed. His eyes raking over you, panting and disheveled, he drags his thumb down your bottom lip, “can’t believe you’re all mine, Princess,” 

“Satoru,” you’re reaching for him, but he pins your hand to the bed, “wha—“ 

“Patience, baby,” he purrs, as he presses his lips to your wrist, “let me enjoy you,”

He’s so pretty it’s unfair - the way his breath hits your skin steals yours, pretty pink lips parted as he runs his tongue over them, the same ache between your legs longing for that tongue between them. But it leaves you with so little of the patience he asks you to have — especially after over a decade of this in the making. 

And your impatience is evident, you suppose, by the pout on your lips, and he laughs, “Want a kiss, baby?” 

You don’t have the time to say you want much more than a kiss, as he humors you with a kiss, lips teasing you with their sweet taste, and you don’t fail to notice his smile as you lean up into his touch. And suddenly his hands brush down your bare sides, squeezing your hips, and you’re gasping, “Feel good, Princess? We’ve barely started—“ 

“You keep teasing me and I’ll make you regret it,” you grumble, between breathless kisses, the bite of your words dampened by the soft pants that leave your lips, “Toru, I swear—“ 

And his thumb presses against the wet patch on your underwear, flimsy layer of soaked fabric barely doing a thing to hide your arousal, “Not acting like a good little girl for me,” he tuts, as you keen against his touch, gasping as you throw your head back as he grinds his fingers  against your puffy clit, “all it took was one touch to have you so pliant, huh? Should’ve done this a long time ago,” 

“Stop,” you whine, and his grin only grows larger with such self satisfaction, you don’t know if your lust addled brain wants you to strangle his neck or his cock, “please, just—“ 

“Just what?” And his fingers are breaching past your underwear, just barely touching the outer lips of your cunt, “come on, Princess, use your big girl words, or are you already fucked stupid before I’ve barely touched you?” 

“Motherfuck—“ 

“I will be one once I get my needy little wife pregnant, won’t I?” And his long fingers finally tug down your underwear — the wet schlick of the sticky fabric hitting the floor make him drag his teeth over those beautiful lips, “but we got plenty of time for that, after all,” his fingers tease the outer lips of your throbbing pussy, “practice makes perfect,” 

And he sinks a long finger knuckle deep — and a whine crawls its way out of your throat, his fingers were thicker than yours were — and so much better. His thumb teases your clit in tight circles as he begins to tease your walls, reaching deep, deep, deeper, your slick starting to drip onto his palm, “God, you’re soaking me, Princess,” and your hips can’t resist the urge to grind against his touch, “oh, and where’s that mouth now?” you can barely see much less talk, words failing as he begins to stretch you out - his other large palm rested against your thigh, keeping your legs nice and spread for him. 

He’s grinning, he sinks another finger into you, teasing your walls apart, beginning to finger fuck you in earnest, “my mouthy girl just needed to be fucked right? Didn’t she?” And all you can hear are the filthy sounds of your cunt, as his fingers piston in and out, “nothing to say, Princess?” And he spanks your pussy, making you yelp, a whine leaving your throat, “and you thought I’d be whiny, look at you now, baby,” his fingers cup your chin to force your glassy eyes to meet his darkened blues, “such a good fucked out wife for me,” 

And a third finger joining right as he brushed against a spot that had you seeing stars as his thumb bullied your clit, eyes rolling back as he did, and he’s grinning, “my perfect princess and her perfect little pussy,” 

You came with his name on your lips, panting and shaking as he held you steady, his fingers dripping with your release, as he pulled away, watching your cunt twitch around nothing, aching for his fingers. 

You're coming down from your high, chest rising and falling, as you watch him gather your release on his fingers, toying with your cunt, before he sucks them clean, “Fuck,” you whimper, as he licks and cleans himself of your cum, “Toru-“

“Fuck, baby, how’ve I resisted tasting you for so long?” And he’s bending down as he noses your thighs, making your hips jolt, still sensitive from your orgasm as he deeply inhaled, tip of his tongue darting out to lick your release from your thighs, “smell as sweet as you taste,” he hums, your legs trying to close, but his palms keep them spread, “can’t keep a man from his vices, can we baby?” 

And his tongue teases your cum that pooled from your orgasm, the tip hot and wet as it tastes it, “tastes when better coming from this filthy princess cunt,” he grins against your thigh, teeth grazing your skin, making you lurch. 

“T-Toru, please,” fuck you hated how needy you sounded, but you needed more — but he’s leaning away, pressing his cheek against the soft plush of your thigh. 

“Need you to do something me first, sweetheart,” and his fingers are drawing teasing infinities  on your thighs, “tell me how much you want me,” 

“Fuck you,” you groan, “I know what you’re gonna say,” you add, cutting off his snappy retort of “I’m trying to,” “I want you, Satoru, please, I’ve wanted this for too long,” and your voice grows more teasing, “how long is my husband going to keep me waiting?” 

And his eyes darken, the slight flush on his cheeks growing deeper, as his mouth presses a wet kiss to your sopping pussy, “good girl, think you deserve a reward,” and he’s manhandling your thighs, spreading them wide, as he buries his face in your cunt, “such a good little wife deserves to be eaten out,” 

And eating is exactly what he does - you had only seen Satoru eat sweets with the same voracity he devoured you, pressing his thick fingers into your thighs as he splayed you out as his mouth pressed wet kisses to your dripping lips. His hot tongue drags up the length of your cunt, “best fucking thing I’ll ever taste, know what my last meal will be,” he’s murmuring against you, making you twitch, as he looks up at you with half lidded eyes and saliva and slick covered lips,  “awww my pretty pussy begging to be filled? Well I can do that for you, baby,” and he’s burying his tongue in your messy hole. 

The moan that leaves your lips leaves his cock harder and hurting, he didn’t know you could make such a lewd noise, and he couldn’t wait to make you make it again and again. He’s making out with your pussy at this mouth, your hips doing their best to grind against him, desperate for more, more, more. 

And your fingers find his shoulders first, before sliding up to his hair, pressing him further against you, “you’re so fucking cute,” he murmurs, as he spreads your folds with his thumbs before tongue fucking you. His tongue teases and abuses your walls, deeper and deeper, before he pulls back to flick his tongue over your clit, making you moan even louder, “neighbors are gonna hear you at this rate, baby,” but he only sucks at your clit, harshly, “oh well, they know we’re newlyweds,” he’s humming as his ears hear your broken whines and pants, body tensed up against his. 

And you’re so wet now, your slick drips down his jaw, mixed with his spit, “you’re all mine now, baby, can’t live without tasting you now—“ and he groans when your hips buck into his mouth again, feeling your walls twitch, “I know you’re close, Princess, tell me how good it feels,” 

“S’good, Toru, I can’t—“ you’re pulling at his soft white locks now, making him grunt, and you fall apart, back arching as you cum as all you can hear are the squelching sounds of his tongue and mouth as he continues to eat you out through your orgasm. 

And you’re twitching under him as he sucks up every bit of your cum, “so fucking good for me,” he’s finally pulling himself from your messy pussy, “can’t wait to feel you around me, should’ve known you have a little princess cunt,” 

And he’s licking his lips and chin clean, as you watch him with half lidded eyes, still panting, as your eyes skim down his body, his jacket had been thrown aside at some point, but his now wrinkled shirt is only messily untucked from his dress pants, and disheveled was too good of a look on him, but you rather see those clothes on the floor of your bedroom, “you’re still annoyingly dressed,” you manage between breaths, still aching from his ministrations, “strip,” 

He’s raising an eyebrow, a wicked grin on his lips, “So demanding for someone who was moaning my name a second ago,” but you pull yourself up, supporting yourself on a shaky arm while you use the other to tug on his tie, smashing his lips to yours. 

You unfurl the very tie you tied, fingers flying to unbutton his shirt, “Made me feel so good, baby,” and now you were kneeling in front of him, your release slipping down your thighs, as you slipped his shirt off his shoulders, tossing it aside, heated eyes raking over his bare chest, tongue running over your lips, “only fair if I repay the favor,” 

You’re undoing his belt for him, pulling it free from the loops, as your hand grazes his noticeable bulge in his suit pants, “surprised you haven’t ripped through,” you squeeze lightly, making his hips jerk, as he pouts all too cutely — and now you knew why he always teased you, “didn’t you tell me to have patience, love?” 

“Your husband is running low on that at the moment, never been one to be patient, sweetheart,” he’s gritting his teeth, as you slip his pants off leaving him only in boxers. 

Your eyes are glued to his erection, visible through the damp front of his boxers, wet with his precum, “so fuckin’ big, even better than I thought,” you say almost with reverence, and his lip quivers at the praise, a quiet groan leaving his throat. You raise an eyebrow, “like to be praised, baby boy?” 

And he swallows, adam's apple bobbing, sweat on his forehead from his treatment of you, but a red flush deepens on his skin, “Princess,” it’s half a warning and half a plea—and morphs into a whimper as your fingers tease the head of his cock through his boxers, rubbing his precum into the fabric, “f-fuck, s’good with those hands, sweetheart,” 

“Imagine how much better it’d be with your boxers out of the way,” you say leaning down and licking at the tip through the sticky fabric, as his head falls back with a soft moan, “can’t wait to feel this between my legs,” as you kiss the clothed tip, two fingers slipping in only to snap the waistband of the boxers against his skin, and he’s biting back a moan, a pout on his kiss ruined lips, “god, you’re so pretty,” 

Another noise in the back of his throat, “Fuck, Princess,” he hissed, as you finally spare him, pulling his boxers off, his erection slapping against his too fucking incredible abs — how was he so unfairly perfect? He was so gorgeous — more long than girthy, but he was so thick still, and flushed red with pearly pre-cum at the tip. Each vein and curve felt as if he was made for you. 

“All this for me, baby?” You tease, as his mouth opens and then closes as your fingers tease the head of his cock, a sharp inhale that keeps echoing in your ears, “all turned on from eating me out, huh?” You move close, nearly straddling him, but you don’t let your cunt brush against his cock — not yet. 

And his dick twitches in your hand, “Sweetheart,” he whimpers, eyes nearly glassy with need, “such a fucking tease,” 

And your lips curl, “Match made in heaven, baby,” you rub your thumb against his flushed tip, spreading the pre-cum along his shaft, “can’t wait to taste you, wonder if you taste as sweet as what you eat,” licking your lips, and he’s biting his lip, “tell me what you want, Toru,” 

“Y’know what I want, Princess,” he’s panting as you lean forward to kiss him, lips sliding against his, just as your palm starts to stroke him, his moan is nearly pornographic, words spilling from his mouth, “want your pretty pussy around my cock, sweetheart, plesse,” 

“Not so fast, baby,” you hum, your other hand moving to tease his balls, achingly full, judging by the gasp that left his throat, “wanna take my time with you, like you did with me, right?” And he breaks your kiss with a whine, “you feel so good in my hands, Toru, been thinking about this cock for too long,” and he’s grunting, lips parted as he pants, burying his face in your shoulder. 

“How good?” he mumbles, and you’re grinning even wider — the great Satoru Gojo fell to pieces with only your touch and some praise, his face beautifully flushed as you tug him by the back of his hair, thumb running over his undercut as you do. 

“So good that I wanna make you fall apart over and over until my name is the only thing on your lips,” you squeeze the base of his dick, making his hips jump, “gonna be a good boy for me and let me do it?” 

And he’s nodding, utterly fucked out even before you’ve even started. And you guide him to the end of the bed, as you get on your knees for him, his gaze darkening as he watches you lean down to press your lips to the tip of his weeping erection, making him groan your name. And you trace his slit with the tip of your tongue, tasting his salty release, “How long you gonna tease me baby? I’m being so good for you,” he’s whining, his baby blues fluttering with lust as he looks down at you, choking as he sees how his precum paints your lips, “please, fuck, just—“ 

And you finally guide his cock into your mouth, and he’s jerking at the sensation and groaning as he watches your pretty little mouth take his length — those same smart lips that always had a reply for everything, the ones he’d jerked off to the thought of this very situation — you on your knees for him, the ones he’d wanted around him for so long — it was too much. 

He almost blew his load all too fast, your warm mouth all too accommodating to his cock, as your wet walls and tongue swirl around him, tasting and sucking, your fingers grasping his thighs. And you bob up and down his length, the weight of his cock making the ache between your legs worse, and your eyes flicker up, and moan as you watch him. 

He’s so fucking gorgeous — panting and so fucked out, as his lips part for you, your name leaving his kissed red lips, teeth baring down on his bottom lip, “Fuck, my little wife is so pretty on her knees,” as his hands settle on your head, watching you sink your mouth down on his cock, pleasure running up his spine, as his thick fingers dig into your scalp, “so nasty, baby, fuuuuck, gonna fuck your throat at this rate,” he groans, “how’d you get so good at this baby? Don’t answer that,” he adds, a growl in his words, and you almost giggle around his dick. 

“Learned so I could blow you, husband, after all, this mouth is yours,” you grin, and his lips curl too and then they part as he grunts, as you press teasing kisses along his length before sliding it back into your mouth, beginning to let the tip hit the back of your throat. You gag on him, making him moan, as he helps you deepthroat him, his hips thrusting against you lightly, his white pubes brushing against your face. 

And he’s moaning even louder, as he watches you, drool slipping down your chin as he fucks your mouth, tongue massaging him as he did, “Made just to fuck me, huh? Want my load that bad, Princess?” And his words have your eyes rolling back as he’s moving against you, his cock twitching telling you that he’s close, “shiiit, fuck, my wife’s a slut for me, gonna swallow my cum baby?” 

“Only for you,” you pull away a moment, a string of spit connecting your lips to his dick, smiling, before you slip him back into your too eager mouth, and you hollow your cheeks, the lewd noises of your tongue and mouth sending him over the edge.

“Fuck, fuck, gonna cum, baby, can I cum in—“ and you make his tip brush your throat again as you suck, looking at him with half lidded, dilated eyes. And he spills into your mouth, hot cum down your throat, as he holds your head gently in place, “shit Princess,” his hips jumping at the sight of you, cum and spit slipping from the corner of your mouth as you pull his cock from you, “s’good for me,” 

He’s still panting, as you climb into his lap properly, his cock sliding against your cunt, making his face twist in pleasure, as you lick your mouth clean of him, wiping your chin, “Taste so good, Toru,” you hum, his eyes half lidded with pleasure, chest still heaving, as he leans back on shaky arms, “you may be my favorite meal, but I think I rather,” you grind on his lap teasingly dragging his tip against your messy cunt, “have you cum inside me,” 

And he gives a delicious gasp, “baby, too sensitive,” but you’re tilting his chin back as you meet his lips, both of you moaning as you taste yourselves on the other’s lips, “you’re gonna be the death of me, Princess,” he’s chuckling, as he starts to grab your thighs, putting you properly into his lap, “you gonna ride me like a good little princess? Fuck yourself on my cock?” 

How does he have the upper hand when you’re the one on top? 

As you feel yourself clench around nothing at his words, and he’s sliding your body back and forth, his cock slapping and sliding against your wrecked cunt, so close to sinking in. His hand bears down on your ass, slapping it, before his fingers squeeze it, making you jump against him, your chest brushing against his, “you like that huh?” he’s grinning, as he kisses you again, his lips sliding against you, swallowing your moans eagerly, “what do you want, baby? Remember to say please,” he adds, and you want to roll your eyes, but his fingers rub your clit, and any protest you had fled your mind. 

“Please,” and you’re using your fingers to part yourself above him, making his eyes roll back, as you grasp his cock, teasing your dripping cunt with the head of his dick, “fuck me,” 

And you sink onto him, inch by inch, as your head looks back, your walls squeezing as he parted your folds, “You’re drenching me, sweetheart, fucking perfect princess cunt is gonna wring me dry,” he grunts, as his fingers splay over your hips, grasping but not pushing, letting you go at your pace, “s’good, might just have to fill you up, again and again,” and your pussy twitches at that thought drawing a laugh from him lips, “you want that? My wife wants to be full of my cum,” he’s groaning when you finally fit all of his cock in you, cunt clamping down on him, “trying to break my cock? Don’t have to go that far to keep me, I’m living in this sweet cunt from now on,” 

You’re a mess — whining and moaning, your chest bouncing as you begin to move against him,  “Toru, so full, s’good,” his own hips jumping against yours, a low growl in his throat, as his hands begin to guide your hips, snapping his own hips as he fucks you onto his own cock, reaching new depths, as your eyes squeeze shut, “fuckfuckfuuuck, Toru,” you’re babbling and moaning his name, again and again — and he just needs more. 

And he’s spanking you, hands coming down on your ass, as he grunts, your warm walls twitching and squeezing him, brushing against sweet spots that have both of you groaning, “such a fucking good girl, taking my cock — I know you can take more, baby, my perfect wife,” and he’s capturing your nipple in his mouth, teeth grazing it before he sucks, his hips growing even faster, until his cock finds your special spot. 

“Toru, g’nna cum, I—“ And your orgasm hits you, head thrown back as your lips part in a silent scream, toes curling as you wrap your legs around his waist, and he’s fucking you right through — fucking relentless, almost limitless, with his pace, groaning as he watches his the base of his cock covered in your release, a pool of white that almost has him cumming then and there. 

“S’ fuckinh pretty, Princess, and all mine,” he says, as you moan, as he slows his pace, your face buried in his shoulder, as you come down from your high, and he’s tilting your head. 

But he isn’t done yet. 

In a moment, he’s pulling his cock out — a whine parting your mouth — as he manhandles you so that you’re flat on your back, your ankles thrown over his shoulders, and spread wide for him. You’re the picture of filth — lips in a kiss ruined pout, chest rising and falling as you gaze up at him with needy eyes, and your perfect cunt leaking and drenched for him — he could see everything — all of you, the way your cum slid down your hole, the way it clenched around nothing, the pretty pink insides he was desperate to make his.  

He licks his lips, “soaking my lap and sheets with your cum, baby, such a dirty girl,” and he’s spreading your lips, letting your release trickle out. 

“Satoru,” you whine as he runs a finger over your still twitching pussy, as if begging for his cock back, “please, too sensitive,”

“Please what, sweetheart? Because your cunt seems to disagree,” his chuckle is a deep noise that reverberates through his chest as he leans down to press your lips to yours in a languid kiss, “such a nerdy princess, imagine how’d your family would feel — seeing you beg for my cock, huh? Not the chaste little princess anymore? Nah, you’re my filthy baby,” and you’re whimpering, “tell me baby, I know you’re not nearly fucked dumb yet, you’re too smart for that,” he coos, a grin on his lips as he stares with that damn crystalline gaze.

And finally he’s sinking into you again, cock sliding back into your soaked cunt, “God, I love you,” he murmurs, as he’s somehow deeper inside you, pussy pressed against all of him, “so fucking perfect, baby, better than I imagined,” he’s pussydrunk now as he rails into you, and you’re grasping at him, the only sound in your ears is the squelch of him as he filled you again and again as his chest presses against yours, fucking you long and hard, “you’re all mine now, baby. My wife, my body, my love, my soul — all of it,” he growls his last words, grunting as his hips begin to stutter as he kisses your sweet spot again and again, “you want me to cum in this sweet princess pussy, baby? Wanna make me a daddy?” 

Your cunt twitches at that, and he laughs, “did you just get wetter, baby? Didn’t think you could do that,” 

But you’re only moaning, you’re so fuckin’ close but you want him to cum with you - wanna feel him sink into as he does. And so you’re meeting his lips in a searing kiss, his hips thrusting harder and longer, “give me your baby, Toru, breed me,” you whisper, words slurring as you pant and stutter, all sense had left your mind - and all you wanted was him. 

“Fuck, Princess,” he’s grunting as he pistons in and out of you, bed groaning under his thrusts,  until your walls clamp down again and again on him as you cum, throbbing and needy as you moan his name, back arching, “g’nna cum,” 

And he does, his cock hitting the deepest part of you as he does, his warm seed filling you up, as his hips continue to fuck it deeper into you, making you whimper, as he just keeps on cumming ropes, “oh, f-fuck, Princess,” he rasps as he kisses you, sloppy and wet, as he pants, watching your face come down him your high, eyelashes fluttering as you look up at him, “so beautiful,” he murmurs, as he rubs his thumb down your lips. 

He pulls out slowly, groaning as he watches your mixed releases leak out of you, dragging the tip of his weeping erection down your cunt, a whine leaving your throat again, “So fucking filthy, baby,” he hums, a shiteating grin on his lips, as he collects his cum on his fingers, and pushes it back inside of you, as you jump, a small pout on your lips making him laugh, “gotta make good on my promise, baby,” and he’s kissing you silly again, “gotta get you pregnant and full for me,” 

His body is sticky with sweat, as he eases your aching legs down, as he kisses up your body, nosing your neck, “So perfect for me, Princess, I love you,” he says so earnestly that it makes you melt, as you pull him into a kiss, “suppose we consummated our marriage now, does this mean we get to have a honeymoon now?” he’s grinning, as you roll your eyes, “come on, don’t you want to travel?” 

And you laugh, “I don’t think we would even leave the hotel room if you had your way,” and he’s pressing his thumb against your bottom lip and dragging down, before kissing you, sliding his tongue into your mouth to taste you. 

“Would that be such a bad thing?” And your breath catches a moment, before you sigh, and he grins again, “so?” 

You roll over to grab your phone, kissing his lips, pulling up possible destinations, “where are we going?” 

“Satoru, we’re at the office, uhmph—“ Satoru’s kissing you even before the elevator doors shut, and you can’t help but not care if anyone saw either of you making out, his talented tongue stealing your logic from under you, before he’s pulling away, your lipstick nearly smeared all over his face. You bite back a laugh, before using your thumb to wipe away the evidence of your kiss, “we’ve been here less than a minute, and you’re already making a mess,” 

And his lips catch your thumb between them, kissing it sweetly, “What do I do better than make a mess of you, princess?” and he’s pressing sweet kisses to your fingertips, before you’re pulling him back for another kiss, right before you hear the elevator ding, and you scramble apart. 

Your cheeks flushed, as you stepped onto the floor of the newly merged company that was formerly your families’ individual companies, now united as one — just as you and Satoru were now — which was why he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of you. The two of you had come into the office to finalize the transition for your staff, each of you dealing with formalities on either side, but Satoru did little to help your focus on the process with his blatant stares and sneaky touches. 

Twice already he had pulled you into his office, only to have you either pressed against his door, or bent over his desk. And god, you sat in your office, biting your lip as you thought about paying him another visit — and fuck, this is what he wanted. 

You pull your phone out and text him: You suck. 

And his reply is instant. If I recall from last night, you’re the one who sucks ;) 

You’ve left me high and dry, Satoru, and I shouldn’t be thinking about fucking you in the office. Especially with both of our parents around in meetings all day. 

He replies, Nah, that’s exactly why you should be thinking about it. 

And then another text. 

Imagine our parents walking in while you’re under my desk doing what you do best, you’d be quiet for me, Princess? Wouldn’t let us get caught when I fuck your pretty mouth? 

You’re biting your lip — Fucker, I hate you. 

Nah, you love me, a little too much, Princess. Another text — especially the way you were moaning my name last night. 

And there’s a knock at your door in that moment — “Come in,” you intone, and you were ninety-nine percent sure that was Satoru — ready to make good on his promise — and then white hair visible as the door swings open, “Father,” 

It was a Gojo, but not the one you expected — your father in law, instead of his son. 

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he says, lips curling in a smile that was all too the same as his son — but missing the same charm, the distinct softness that made you adore Satoru was not present in his father — nor was his father very present at all — except to chastise his son on how he thought his son should live his life. 

And he was interrupting — interrupting you about to sext his son and your husband from the confines of your office, but you only offered a smile, “Not at all, can I help you with something, Father?” 

He’s shutting the door behind him, before taking a seat across from you, “I just wanted to have a chat with you — it’s been so long since we’ve been able to see the two of you — we still haven’t had you over since you’ve returned from your honeymoon,” 

“It’s been very busy,” and it had been, but not too busy to see Satoru’s family. Since the launch party, you and Satoru had agreed to steer clear of his father for some time, until Satoru could develop some more healthy boundaries with him. And so you could get through a conversation without strangling him (although Satoru wasn’t opposed to seeing that), “with the merger and Satoru and I trying to spend time to get know each other again,” 

“Of course,” but his smile told you he was unconvinced, “I wanted to talk to you about something important, I’ve seen how close you and Satoru have gotten since the engagement and the wedding, and I was happy to see you pushing him in the right direction,” 

“”Pushing him?’” you repeat, raising an eyebrow. 

“With the merger, I haven’t seen him so focused, so determined, and I knew my suggestion to my wife to have you marry him was the right choice,” and you stare at him, mouth agape, as anger slowly melts from your stomach into every vein of his body, fingers curling into fists. 

“Excuse me?” 

He leans back in his chair, “When the idea of the merger was floated by me, I knew I wanted a condition to be your marriage to Satoru,” his eyes glance over the things on your desk — the stacked folders, the paperwork, and the pictures of your family and of Satoru, “you’re driven, you’re focused, you’re perfect — I knew you could change him, and I was right,” his lips curl, and you can’t hold your tongue anymore. 

“Maybe what your son needed was someone to support him,” your words are even, but your body is tense, “he needed someone not to scold him, to put him down, to whisper doubts in his ear when he needed help,” you rise from your chair slowly, “I respect you as my father-in-law and as my family’s old friend and co-owner of this company, but,” you glare at him, “no one insults my husband’s capabilities, and makes me takes credit for his achievements,” 

The old man’s teeth grit, and he opens to respond, when there’s a curt knock at the door, and Satoru enters, “Old man, how about you go chat with the other old farts in the room? Pretty sure you’re bleeding investors by the second the longer you talk with my wife,” he slides a small smile to you that tells you he heard everything. 

Satoru’s father shoots a glare at both of you, before leaving the room in a huff, door shutting behind him, and you sigh, rubbing your temples, “I’m sorry if I made things worse—” 

And he’s pulling you into a hug, arms snaking around your waist and pulling you against him, “Thank you, Princess,” he murmurs into your ear, making you tense, “oh you like that, huh?” and you roll your eyes, laughing. 

“Even in a moment like this, huh?” you lean up and whisper in his ear, “I don’t just like it, I love it,” and it’s his turn to shiver, his cheeks burning, “you’re so cute,” you grin, before leaning up and kissing him. He melts into the kiss, his fingers cupping your cheek to deepen the kiss, pulling your waist against his, and you feel his arousal pressed against your thigh. 

You pull away, tilting your head, you snort, “Already?” 

And he bites his lip, “Take some responsibility, baby, it’s your fault,” and he leans down and grazes your ear with his teeth, “not my fault my hot wife defended my honor and then decided to whisper sweet nothings in my ear,” 

You hum, guiding his lips to yours, your teeth graze over his bottom lip, “And how should I take responsibility, baby?” and he shudders, crystalline eyes glazed over with lust, “we’re in the office, not very professional,” his fingers unbutton your blouse, so he can lean down and kiss your collarbone. 

“I was never very professional to begin with,” he smirks, his teeth grazing over the soft skin, sucking and biting, making you gasp, “don’t be so loud, someone will hear us, what will they think?” he murmurs, with a grin against your skin, as he continues to undo your blouse, as he turns you around so your back is against your chest, he tilts your head to look at your door, “look it’s unlocked, anyone could walk in,” and his fingers sneak down the front of your skirt, fingers teasing your panties, “fuuuck, princess, you’re soaked through — are you more turned on by the idea of getting caught?” and you whimper, only making him grin wickedly against your neck, “my filthy girl, imagine your father walking in, seeing your husband’s fingers down your skirt, legs spread wide like a slut,” 

“Satoru,” you’re biting your lip so hard that you wouldn’t be surprised it would bleed, your knees buckling, as his fingers part your dripping folds, “we can’t—” 

“We can,” he shushes you, guiding your lips to his, fingers cupping your throat, but he leans back to get confirmation that you were okay, and you lean in again to kiss him, “such a good girl,” You whimper, and he laughs, “gotta break in the new office don’t we?”

And his fingers slip your panties aside, two fingers parting your folds, and you gasp, as he stuffs two fingers into your mouth as well, “Not so loud, Princess, can’t give the office gossip mill something really juicy, now can we?” And his digits start to really fuck you, in and out, the wet squelch ringing in your ears, as his fingers bully and stretch your walls, until they find what they are looking for — your g-spot. 

You fall apart, but it’s gushing all over his hand, soaking his hand, as your hand grasps at the fingers in his mouth trying to stifle your noises, “Fuck, Princess, did you just squirt for me?” He’s grinning, “such a sloppy little Princess, look you’re staining the carpet with your cum,” he guides your head to look, seeing the spot on the carpet, as you lean against him, “gotta do this again,” 

He kisses you as you moan. Tangled limbs and eager touches, as you guide him over to the desk, as you settle him into the chair, lips still parting as your tongue slips in, “Your turn,” and before he can even react, you’re slipping down to your knees, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, slipping his aching dick out, nearly slapping your face with it, you drag it along your lips, “Like you said, I’m the one who sucks right?” you wink, before you finally lick the length of his cock, tracing the veins to the slit, “you always taste so good, Toru,” and he’s hissing now. 

“Fuck, baby, you always so pretty on your knees for me,” and you have to disagree — he’s the one who looks pretty — shirt disheveled, chest rising and falling far too fast, as he looked down at you with his snowy white eyelashes half lidded with a lust ridden gaze — “your pretty mouth is s’fucking perfect, can’t wait to cum down that lovely throat,” he hisses, as his fingers dig into your scalp, urging his cock deeper, his tip brushing against your throat, making you gag. 

He opens his mouth to apologize, but you only shake your head, as you do it again, making his hips buck against you, tip hitting your throat again, his composure quickly falling to shreds, as he’s fucking your throat now, biting his lip so hard to keep his groans in, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was bleeding afterwards. 

“I-I’m close,” he’s gritting his teeth, but you only redouble your efforts, “so fuckin’ perfect, made to suck this dick—” 

And that’s when there’s a knock on the door, making you both freeze. You panic silently — before Satoru is shepherding you under your desk, while he adjusts himself, scooting your chair in more, so his weeping cock is hidden along with you. 

“Come in,” Satoru says, as even toned as someone who was just fucking their wife’s throat can manage, “Dad—what a nice surprise,” 

And you cover your mouth — fuck it was your dad — Satoru called his dad, “old man” — what the fuck. 

“I should be saying that to you son,” you bite your lip, listening to their conversation, “where’s my daughter? And why are you in her office?” and you covered your mouth, shit — you were hiding under your own desk, while Satoru sat in your chair. 

Shit, shit, shit. 

“I was just waiting for her to come back with lunch,” he manages, and you can almost see the dependable smile on his lips, “she volunteered to get us lunch and she told me to wait here so we could eat together,”

Your father was seemingly convinced after that, but to both of your dismay, sat down to speak with Satoru about business matters. You crouched, utterly bored as you listened to them talk, his erection beginning to wane, and you got an idea in your pretty little head — you grinned — well, Satoru should be careful what he wishes for, or he might just get you blowing him in front of your father. 

You start slow — teasing the head with a brush of your fingers, easily could have been an accident, but it nearly makes him jump, as he gives a warning nudge with his foot gently. But then your hand begins to rub him in earnest, fingers using your spit as lube, as you heard your husband stammer over his words to your father. But it was nothing compared to when you closed your mouth over his cock, and began to deepthroat him again. 

“Satoru, are you okay?’ you hear your father ask, as you discreetly suck your husband’s cock under his desk, and you can only imagine the delightful shade of red your Toru is turning. 

“Sorry, I’m not feeling like myself,” he mumbles, as he grits his teeth in an attempt not to moan, and you can feel his thighs tense as he forces himself not to fuck your mouth as he wants to right now. He’s so close — as much as you like the idea of getting caught, you think Satoru likes it as much or maybe even more — his cock is twitching in your mouth as you suck and swirl your tongue around it, as your fingers dig into your thighs, “I apologize, I’m getting a call. Could you excuse me?” 

And your father is oblivious, and excuses himself from the room, door shutting behind him, and Satoru groans, “Fuck, princess, you almost made me cum in front of your dad in this nasty fucking mouth,” and you suck harder, fingers fondling his balls, as his fingers find your locks again, and his hips jerk into your mouth, his white pubes tickling your nose, “thaaat’s it, fuck, so fuckin’ good, i’m close, sweetheart,” he groans, “you want me to cum—“ and you bury his cock deeper into your mouth as an answer, your hands pumping what you couldn’t fit, until he cums down your throat. 

You meet his half lidded gaze, swallowing his cum, as you ease off his cock, a mix of cum and saliva connected your lips, “You taste so good,” you lick your lips, as you push the chair a little back and climb out, as you tug his boxers and pants back up, tucking his cock back in, “my favorite treat,” 

He smiles, chest still rising and falling fast, “I love you, princess,” so genuinely as he pulls you into a deep kiss. 

You giggle, humming against his lips, “So heartfelt after getting your soul sucked out of your dick,” you glance at the door, “do you think anyone heard us?” 

He shrugs, as he pulls you into his lap, “I hope they did,” he grins against your neck, as you roll your eyes. 

“You’re terrible,” and his lips curl. 

“And you love me,” you kiss those same lips you would each day. 

“I do.”

~~~~

“What do you wanna do today?” Satoru asks, your legs thrown over his lap, as you read a book you had picked up the other day out on a date with him, and he eats the kikufuku he had insisted on picking up the same day. 

“Hmm, I have some ideas,” you hum, hiding your smile with a book, and you don’t need to see his face to know he’s grinning. 

“And what’s that, Princess?” he leans forward, plucking the book from your fingers, as you tut at his sugar covered fingers, “shouldn’t you share your feelings with your husband?” And his lips brush against your neck, nose brushing against the soft skin of your nape, inhaling your scent. 

“Well I have a surprise for you,” you weren’t planning on giving it to him now, but you pulled a wrapped box from behind the couch cushions, “should I make you wait?” 

He’s reaching for the box already, as you laugh, and he’s snatching it from your fingers before you can tease him, “can I open it?” He was so eager, as always. 

“Go ahead, baby,” you bite your lip, a small smile on your lips. 

He lifts the lid of the wrapped box off, and the first thing his eyes flit across is the word “positive.” 

His mouth parts, as he stares at the pregnancy test carefully nestled into the box, “is this—“ his cerulean eyes meet yours, a soft gaze with wonder, “are we—“ 

“We’re having a baby, Toru,” you nod, and he’s sweeping you into his arms, as you squeak, his body sweeping you up in his, as he buries his face in your neck, “Toru—“ 

“Is this real?” He murmurs, into your skin, all soft words and soft kisses, “I feel like I’m dreaming,” 

“Well I am your dream girl, so maybe don’t be surprised when I pinch you and you wake up,” you pinch his cheek lightly, making his pale skin cutely flushed, pink dusting his cheeks, “no dream here, all real — so I guess you’re just lucky,” 

“The luckiest,” he hums, a quiet noise that soothes you, “a beautiful wife, and now,” his fingers graze over your stomach, before lifting the hem of your shirt, to press his lips to it, “and now we’re going to be a family,”

Your lips curl, tilting his chin up so his watery gaze meets your own, thumb rubbing the length of his cheek, “We already were a family,

He raises his eyebrows in mock surprise, “I thought we were mortal enemies,” and you laugh, before shrugging. 

“That too,” and he pulls you into his lap, smiling, “but you’re actually pretty cute,” 

He gasps mockingly, “Princess, do you have a crush on me? A mere commoner?” 

You roll your eyes, pressing a languid kiss to his lips, tasting the lingering sweetness of the kikufuku, “I hate you,” you say, when he knows you mean quite the opposite. 

And he only smiles the same way he always did — and the same way he always would — “love you too, Princess."

✩ a/n: so this was also inspired by a character AI made by @/fairybaby that has been living in my mind rent free for far too long. thank you to @/laneymusings for being the best emotional support from writing to formatting to everything in between

✩ tag list: @ryliobrow, @getosho3cakes, @delaneyyyy, @soukokufan, @purplscnerie, @solarlunarsstuff, @growingupnrealizing, @forest-fruits-jam, @achipstea1ingseagull, @fruitscall, @starplasma-cujoh, @crashing-a-jeep, @mwah-chia, @vorschlaghannah, @xrysakts, @emonaculate

[ponderingmoonlight]

Reader falling obsessively in love with kny men after getting poisoned

Pairings: Rengoku x fem!reader; Sanemi x fem!reader; Giyu x fem!reader; bonus Genya x fem!reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: There's no smut going on but it's definitely a close call lol, I just thought this concept is funny so the fics itself and the whole scenarios aren't 100% serious it's getting absolutely heated in every single one though hehe, Not proofread bc I literally finished this last minute before my flight lol, I'm currently in Greece when this gets published so surprise ya girl with your support until she's back 🤍

Rengoku Kyojuro

“And you’re sure this is safe?”, you question while looking up at Shinobu with frightful eyes.

It should be fine. After all, Shinobu is the one who invented a medicine that is supposed to finally force your headache away. She’s a professional, so well-educated that even Kagaya-sama’s very own children get treated by her.

Even though she didn’t have the chance to test this medicine, you should be fine.

Right?

“As you know, I’ll never promise something I can’t keep, (y/n). But you’re here with me and if something goes wrong, I will find a way”, she tries to reassure you, only to spike your panic up even higher.

“Listen Shinobu, maybe I’ll try something e-“

Before you’re able to finish your sentence and stop her, you feel a needle poking through your arm oh so gently.

For a moment, you simply sit there and blink in confusion. Huh, not as bad as you thought. It really seems like your headache slowly but surely starts fainting away while the medicine burns every so slightly through your veins.

Not bad at all.

Until your heartbeat picks up so suddenly that your eyes dart wide open. Like in trance, you yank out of the chair you were sitting in, orbs darting around without a real aim while frantically searching for something.

Or rather someone.

What a quiet and peaceful day it is to roam around the beautiful butterfly estate. Rengoku actually didn’t even plan to come here. After all, he isn’t injured nor does he need something from Shinobu-san. To be honest, he’s only here because of you.

You told him yesterday that you’ll see Shinobu today in order to test medicine that is supposed to end your ongoing headaches. You were a little frightened when you thought about getting an injection, so it was never a question for Rengoku to be there for you. Hopefully, he made it on time.

“Kyojuro.”

He furrows his eyebrows and turns towards that unusual seductive voice.

When your eyes meet his, he forgets how to breathe. There you stand, your kimono opened just enough for him to catch a glimpse of your chest like never before. But what simply sweeps him off his feet are your eyes. As gorgeous and captivating as ever, but this time igniting an so unknown spark, inviting him to a silent dance.

“(y/n), are you feeling alright?”

Your hips swing from side to side as you draw closer to him and place your hand straight over his beating heart.

“I’m feeling better than ever before, Kyojuro.”

Kyojuro can’t help but blush deeply, eyes widening in surprise. A nervous smile plays on his lips while he stammers slightly, unable to hide his flustered state. Is this really you, the secret love of his life, discovering his body with your bare hands? The second your flat palms start wandering over his back, his hands start to fidget. Out of instinct, he avoids eye contact, his very own hands now keeping you in place.

“W-What’s going on. (y/n)?”, he stammers like he never did before.

“Take me, Kyojuro.”

His eyes grow even wider, usual confidence momentarily faltering like a house of cards.

“I-I…um, what?”

With a force he didn’t even know you have, you shove him against a nearby tree, your knee gliding between his legs.

“I want you since the first time I saw you. I won’t wait for another opportunity when you’re right here.”

“(y/n)…D-did you already meet Shinobu-san?”

Are you sick or injured? A quick scan of your body reveals nothing that could indicate a serious wound. No, to be precise, you reveal nothing but your soft curves, your gorgeous frame he has never seen like this before. With your kimono slightly opened and the cleavage that peaks at him oh so invitingly…He never felt your hands pressed against his chest like that before, never got a taste of how well you fit inside of his arms.

No. He shakes his head ever so slightly, forces his own mind back to reality. This isn’t the (y/n) he knows. You’d never sneak up on him like this, even if the words you just spoke are true.

Oh, please let them be true.

“All I care about is you”, you purr, face now only inches away from his.

If his back wasn’t pressed against a tree already, Kyojuro would lose his balance for sure. He was always captivated by that gorgeous colour your eyes have, never able to look away. But now, with that dark gleam inside of them, your hands wrapped around his neck. A little innocent kiss, a dream that comes true right here and now-

“(y/n), come back right now!”, a voice cries behind him so suddenly that he jumps up inside the cage of your comforting arms.

“We are here, Shinobu-san!”, he replies automatically.

Only to regret his words instantly. Just one second more and his lips would have touched yours, only a few moments more in your embrace before it all ends again. It takes him all his strength to let go of you when Shinobu arrives with an injection ready in her hand.

“I’m beyond sorry, Rengoku-san! (y/n)’s strange behaviour is all my fault. But don’t worry, I’ll bring her back in just a moment.”

Faster than he’s even able to comprehend the insect pillar’s words, she sticks a needle into your arm and releases the injection.

You blink a few times, head spinning uncontrollably as you stumble backwards. Where are you? What happened? Your head pounds so roughly against your skull that you feel like puking any given minute.

“How are you feeling, (y/n)?”, Shinobu’s comforting voice rings in your ears.

Slowly but surely, your foggy vision starts to get clear again.

“Since when are you so tall, Shinobu?”, you mumble absently.

“It’s me, (y/n). Kyojuro.”

Oh.

“Kyojuro!”, you mumble in utter surprise.

“But…what are you doing here?”

“Let’s not talk about it. I-I…I need to go now”, the flame hashira announces before turning on his heels and walking away.

You stare at his back in nothing but confusion. What is wrong with him? Is he not feeling well, maybe?

“Is it just me or does Kyojuro walk very strange today?”, you question, earning endless giggles from Shinobu next to you.

“He does indeed.”

Sanemi Shinazugawa

“Watch out idiot, you’re gonna get hit!”, the white-haired man barks harshly at you before dashing towards again.

It happened faster than you were ready to react. A little troll through the woods at night, a deep conversation with the wind hashira. And just a few seconds later, an upper-ranked demon appeared out of nowhere.

“Don’t let it hit you, (y/n)!”

“I’m not stupid, dumbass!”, you bite back while dodging another hit with a tendril.

What a strange-looking demon that woman is. With countless pink tendrils that act as her hair and her long tongue, she really looks different from every demon you’ve seen before.

“Still fighting for your love, you fool?”, she jeers at Sanemi before trying to hit him once again.

"I will show you what love really is! It's a consuming fire that burns away your sense of self, leaving you hollow and desperate. It's an obsession that blinds you to reality, making every thought, every breath, every heartbeat revolve around the one person who becomes your entire world. In this love, you lose your freedom, your identity, and your sanity, as you sacrifice everything to feed the insatiable hunger that never goes away-“

“Can you just stop talking shit, ugly bitch? I just wanna go home”, Sanemi interrupts her dryly

You chuckle to yourself. As if a demon would know anything about love. Their only purpose on this earth is to kill innocent humans for the fun of it.

“What the hell do you know about love, huh? All you do is destroying it”, you blurt out.

Just a moment of sloppiness, a second of turning your back to the tendrils that surround you like a prison. The second you feel it, it’s already too late.

“(y/n)!”, Sanemi cries out, feet rapidly carrying him to your side in order to slice through that fucking piece of tendril that pierced itself through your leg.

He wraps his arms around you tightly, saves you from clashing onto the ground. But the second you open your eyes again, they don’t look like they did before. No, you look obsessed.

“Hey, look at me (y/n). Come back to me”, he insists, a slight tone of panic now taking over his usual so harsh voice.

What if that bitch poisoned you? Shinobu is miles away, there’s no way in hell he’d make it on time. And even now, tendrils continue to circle both of you, waiting for an opportunity to hurt him as well.

“Just see what love does to you! You’ll have to kill her!”

“What the fuck are you talking about”, he hisses under his breath.

“(y/n)?”

“Sanemi.”

Your voice sounds dark, unpromising, coated in something he’s never heard before.

“Hey, are ya alright?”

You’re moving too fast for him to react. In the split of a second, you sit on top of him, your hands holding his in place while your lips start tracing up and down his neck.

For a moment, Sanemi forgets how to exist.

You’re sitting on top of him.

With your lips pressed against his neck.

Almost instantly, blood shoots up his face and straight into his private parts, eyes widen in…horror?

No, not because of you, not because he doesn’t enjoy to finally feel you this close. But this isn’t you. This is the poison of that fucking demon.

Just before he gets hit as well, he slices through another tendril that was ready to attack both of you.

“You can’t save her and yourself!”, the demon shouts at him in sheer amusement.

“Your love will get you killed!”

“(y/n).”

His voice is as tender as never before, hands now grabbing your arms oh so gently.

“You need to come back to me, okay? This isn’t you, this isn’t…how you feel for me.”

He hates the way his heart starts aching as soon as those words leave his mouth. There’s no way in hell someone like you would ever fall for someone like him if it wasn’t for that demon. Not when you’re so gorgeous, so breathtakingly beautiful, so smart-

“But I love you, Sanemi! And I need you!”, you cry out, lips now only inches away from meeting yours.

“You don’t love me, (y/n). How could you ever love me?”

“Let me show you.”

Just before your hand gets the chance to grab his pants, he swings you around in order to lay on top of you – completely out of breath and flustered like never before.

“You need to focus. We need to kill that bitch”, he tries to remind you while dodging another wave of attacks with his free hand.

“You’ll need to kill her!”

“Shut up!”, he barks at the demon behind him.

But that thing’s right. With you writhing like a snake underneath him and those countless merciless attacks, he can concentrate on neither.

“I’m the only one who’s able to save her-“

“I said shut up!”

“(y/n), please get yourself together”, he breathes out.

God, why do you have to look so damn tempting with your legs wrapped around his waist and eyes as flustered as he’s never seen before? Countless lonely nights, he imagined what you might look like, feel like, sound like.

But this isn’t real. That sudden outburst of love isn’t real.

“Looks like you’re busy, Shinazugawa. Maybe you should do things like that somewhere other than on the battlefield”, a painfully known voice comments behind him dryly.

“Shut up at take care of that bitch. I need to look after (y/n)”, he instructs the serpent hashira sharply before picking you up and sprinting into the woods.

“I need you. Please”, you beg between his arms, the way your hands roam around his chest simply driving him insane.

“You can’t help her!”, a faint female voice cries behind both of you.

Screw that fucking demon. He needs to get the real you back, needs to finally confess his damned feelings. Even if all of this is nothing but poison, he simply can’t live like this anymore. Not when you’re so close to him every day, not when he secretly can’t get enough of that sight in front of him right now.

“Come back to me, (y/n)”, he almost begs while letting you down.

Fuck, what is he supposed to do? What if he’s not able to help you? Even if he sends after Shinobu, you might go insane until she arrives. And what if you do something stupid, what if he isn’t able to protect you? And what if this isn’t the only thing that cursed poison does?

“Don’t you love me? I thought you like me back, I thought we have a future together, I…I can’t do this without you!”, you suddenly scream on top of your lungs while bursting out in tears.

“What? I never said that-“

“I don’t wanna live without you. I…I’ll end this!”

It happens almost too fast for him to react. In the matter of milliseconds, you grab your sword and direct it towards your throat, ready to slice it open with full-force.

“You little idiot”, he hisses through gritted teeth while forcing your blade away.

“I love you so fucking much that it hurts, you’re the only thing I’m thinking about constantly! Can’t you see that you’re driving me crazy since joining the corps!? I love you, (y/n)! I always did and I definitely always will! You’ve got me trapped, goddamn!”

And then he presses his lips against yours. Longingly, passionately, as if you’re air and he cannot breathe. Never in his life, Sanemi longed for something so small yet so big. Each and every night, his mind wandered to your lips, your laugh, just you and your fucking perfect self. He can’t stand the thought of you talking about yourself so badly. Him not loving you? Are you fucking insane?

“Sanemi.”

You breathe his name against his lips oh so sweetly.

Sweetly, with that cheeky undertone he knows so well.

“Is that you, (y/n)?”

When he opens his eyes again, he gets greeted by the gleaming kindness that radiates from your orbs just inches away from his.

“I’m sorry for…throwing myself at you like that…”, you mutter with reddened cheeks.

How embarrassing. You can’t believe you were about to touch his groin without permission. Even if you were poisoned, what the hell has gotten into you? And why do you have to remember all the things you’ve said and done? That would have been the least that cursed poison could have done…

“Don’t be, it’s fine”, Sanemi replies equally awkward.

“But…are you actually into me?”, you mumble followed by a swift gaze.

“I…I mean…-“

“He totally is”, Obanai barges into the conversation from behind.

Giyu Tomioka

“Didn’t you say that-ah! This was supposed to be easy?”, you press out while fighting a bunch of demons.

You really have no idea how you ended up here. Just a few seconds ago, you were having the best sleep of the week when your crow interrupted your slumber as rude as ever and literally dragged you onto the battlefield straight on his side.

His side. Giyu Tomioka, to be exact. The mysterious yet captivating water hashira you are eyeing since the first day of joining the chosen circle of pillars. What is it that ties you onto him like a chain, that forces your mind to wander towards him each and every day without any break?

“I will take care of the right side. Stay focused”, he instructs you as absent as ever, not even sending you a single look while your heart is all over the place.

It’s ridiculous and you know it all too well. A man like Giyu would never fall for someone as clumsy and unsettled at you. He will never look at you the way you look at him, not even daring to send you a single smile. Because you’re nothing but comrades, distant known. If it wasn’t for your responsibilities as pillar, he would have never even talked to you.

And you absolutely hate the way this stinging fact bugs you every single day of your life.

“You’re not focused enough, stupid girl”, a voice way too close suddenly purrs inside your ear.

There’s no time left to react. Not even Giyu Tomioka is able to reach you in time when the demon scratches your neck oh so slightly.

Only enough to spill your blood.

Only enough to make you go absolutely insane.

Your mind gets flooded by a wave of emotions, memories, thoughts. All at once. So rapidly that you feel like fainting any given minute.

“What did you do to her?”

“Nothing hurts more but the truth. Did you ever wonder about what she might feel for you, even love, maybe? I will reveal her darkest secrets, her thoughts that were never said out loud. And when she finally loses her mind completely, I will force her to kill you and afterwards herself!”

Giyu’s eyes widen at those words. You, loving him? He never even dared to think about something like this, not when you are admired by everyone around you. Why would you fall for someone as quiet and boring as him?

He swallows hard. But knowing that deep inside him is definitely different from hearing those words coming out of your mouth.

“Giyu.”

Your voice sounds cold and distant, eyes completely blank.

“(y/n), I will get you out of here, I’m sure Shinobu is able to-“

“I love you.”

You hate him.

No.

You love him?

“And I’ve loved you for so long that I lost count a long time ago. I love the way you walk, the way you inspect the world around you so carefully. I love how tender you are when it comes to children. I love your kindness, your calm voice-“

“Wait, this wasn’t supposed to go like this!”, the demon cries out.

“I love the feeling of your eyes set on me even though I know I’d never stand a chance. You are so much more than a friend to me, so precious that it hurts. And I can’t help but imagine myself lying inside your arms every night. I can’t help but stare at you whenever I catch you training. I can’t stop those butterflies from invading my stomach every time you’re around. I love you with all my heart even though I know you’d never love me back.”

HIs mind goes blank, ocean blue eyes staring at you in sheer disbelief. Suddenly everything else around you goes silent. The demon, the screams from afar. All he’s able to see is you with those tears glistening in your orbs.

Giyu’s heart skips a beat when he begins to realize.

You really mean it. Every word you just said is true.

“But I do feel the same way about you”, he finally replies while cupping your hands with his.

“I just never thought someone like you would fall for someone like me.”

“I would always choose you”, you clarify in an instant.

And then your eyes roll back into your skull, your lifeless body threatens to hit the cold ground.

-later-

“Giyu? Where’s Giyu?”, you croak out before you even open your eyes, your heart hurting so bad that you feel like puking.

What happened? All you’re able to remember is Giyu’s hands intertwined with yours before everything turned black. Or was it just a dream?

“Finally, I was so worried about you, (y/n).”

But no. At this very moment, he still holds onto your hand tightly while looking down at you with his brows furrowed.

“What happened?”

“You were poisoned by a demon and lost consciousness. I carried you to the butterfly estate”, he explains as briefly as ever.

“You…carried me?”

“Of course I did. You were unconscious, like I said.”

“Did we hold hands?”, you blurt out so suddenly that you even scare yourself.

You can feel Giyu sliding back and forth on his chair, eyes avoiding yours at any cost. Oh no, did you make him feel uncomfortable? What if he’s annoyed because of your foolish mistake? You should have never asked him-

“(y/n), do you remember the conversation we’ve had on the battlefield?”, he questions with unspoken hope glimmering inside his orbs.

“I…I don’t remember anything…”, you finally admit.

What did you talk about? Did you insult him? And what about that demon? That thing definitely wasn’t a lower ranked demon.

“You told me you love me.”

Your heart leaves your body and soul behind, glossy eyes staring at him in sheer disbelief. Fuck, did you hear that correctly? You told him you love him?

“I…I said that?”, you stutter.

“I mean…M-maybe I h-hit my head a l-little too h-“

“And I love you too.”

Oh.

This is even more ridiculous.

“You love me?”, you shriek in reply.

“I never thought about the possibility that you might actually like me back. But when that demon poisoned you, when you told me that you love me…I can’t keep this lie up any longer. I love you, (y/n).”

Gently, he wraps his comforting arms around your aching body, allows you to take in his calming scent.

“It embarrasses me that it took a demon to finally say this out loud.”

“But…would you mind telling me what I said?”, you mumble against his neck.

He lifts up your head enough for you to catch a glimpse of his breath-taking smile.

“I’d rather keep these words for myself.

Bonus: Genya Shinazugawa

“Where’s (y/n)!?”, Mitsuri cries out in sheer panic while darting around the estate in a haste.

“(y/n)? I’ve seen her on her way to the hot springs just a few moments ago”, Tanjiro replies in utter confusion.

“Is there somebody else, Tanjiro-kun?”, Mitsuri continues while grabbing Tanjiro’s shoulders roughly.

“Hello, Genya”, you purr.

“(y-y/n)!? What the hell are you doing here, I’m taking a bath!”, Genya cries out with his cheeks already bright red.

But instead of getting lost like he told you to, you let your towel fall to the floor.

And stand in front of him.

Completely naked.

“What are you doing!?”, he shrieks.

In the matter of seconds, he turns himself away from you, his face burning like a thousand fires. Fuck, he’s already flustered when you’re around him in your uniform. But you, butt-naked, in the same hot spring? He’ll definitely die here.

“I needed to see you. There’s actually something I wanted to tell you in a long time, Genya.”

When the water around him starts to move due to you entering the hot spring, he feels like dying out of excitement and fright. You shouldn’t be here together, not when you’re completely naked, not alone. He never prepared himself for something like this to happen, didn’t even allow his mind to wander such places. Fuck, what is he supposed to do?

Suddenly, he finds himself whirled around in your arms, your chest pressed against his.

Your very naked chest.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

“What are you doing!?”

“Come on, I saw the looks you were giving me when you thought I wasn’t watching”, you purr while drawing small circles onto his chest.

“I…no…I didn’t mean it…that way…I just think that…that you are awesome. And cute…”, Genya mumbles.

“(Y/N)!”

Another splash, another butt-naked woman that now grabs your shoulders and pulls you out of the water with impressive strength.

“I’m so sorry, Genya! I fear (y/n) mistook the love portion I made for juice!”, Mitsuri bubbles while trying to tame you down.

“CAN THE TWO OF YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE NOW!?”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @laurencrsnt @sanemifucker

[szasfuckingwife]

Yakuza!Gojo who’s the future head of the family. Everything, money, information, deaths, goes through him. The sight of him alone sends shivers down many people.

Yakuza!Gojo who often visits the strip club with other members of the family. It was more leisure time for them, seeing some pretty girls and having that buzz from drinks? No one would deny that. That’s where he met you.

Seeing your body up on that pole made Satoru almost starstruck. The beauty of your curves and the way the lingerie was pressed against your tits and ass made him want to make a mess in his pants right there. Everything was moving slowly, especially when you walked up to him.

Yakuza!Gojo who knew he had to fuck you. If not him, who else? And so, he interrupted your scheduled private dances and landed a fat stack of cash in your hands, money that you could not refuse. You’ll never forget his face when he said that he’ll compensate for the interruption.

You wish you were dreaming, you honestly wish you were. But that’d mean the feeling he’s giving to you isn’t real. The way he’s relentlessly fucking you wouldn’t be real. He snaps his hips, colliding with the plush of your ass. Nothing in the room could be heard but your moans, the skin slapping and his filthy words.

“You fuckin’ like that, yeah?”

“Fuckin slut for my cock, aren’t you?”

“Good fuckin’ girl, throw it back…”

Yakuza!Gojo who made you his fuck buddy after multiple rounds that night. He refused to leave his bed until he had enough of you. But it was never enough. He loved fucking you.

But then, after three months, you wake up to him just staring at you. You don’t say anything, and neither does he. But a mutual understanding that ‘this was never supposed to go this far’ was shared.

Yakuza!Gojo who ghosts you the next day. Deletes your number, blocks you, doesn’t show up to the club anymore. You can’t even cry because that was never your man, he was never yours.

That’s how you found out he was already betrothed to someone and announced his engagement. An uncommon feeling of heartbreak loomed over you. Now, imagine heartbreak accompanied with the feeling of shock that there are two lines on the stick that sits on your bathroom counter.

You knew it was his. There was no debate about it. Two options circulated in your mind. Option A: Don’t tell him, figure out what to do with the baby on your own. Or, Option B, tell him immediately and maybe break his engagement up.

You chose the latter.

Yakuza!Gojo never liked his fiancé anyway. He didn’t personally choose her to marry, his father did. So, when you turn up at his doorstep to tell him the news, he cries. He cries right in front of you and hugs you tightly.

“I love you. Only you, Y/N….I’ll do my best with this baby.”

[elliesgaythoughts]

Ellie fucking you in your brothers room after she had an argument with him

Toxic bbf!Ellie x in love reader

Warnings: fighting, angst, oral, blood, spit kink (once) and weed💗

“Broo cmon!” Ellie’s yell passes through your brothers room to your ears as you sit crossed legged atop your bed, barely reading up on your studies, your mind was other places. You missed Ellie.

It has been days since Ellie had her fingers buried inside your snug cunt, since you moaned her name and fucked yourself on her, since she called you her good girl as she sucked her fingers clean and walked out of your room as if nothing had happened. She then walked downstairs and greeted your parents so sweetly with the taste of you still on her tongue.

You tried to focus on the sounds from kehlani that filled your ears but her yells that started playfully at your brother were starting to sound a bit more serious, they argued often over stupid shit like video games and sports “you didn’t fucking win!” “I fucking did. What do you call this then?” You hear him chuckle as he probably shows her the scoreboard, then the house goes silent as Ellie knocks the wind from his lungs with a swift punch to the ribs “cunt!” she screams as he hits her back with a box to the face and you hear the sound of fists hitting flesh and hisses of pain for a solid ten minutes before you hear your brother yell at you “im gonna go get some air!” and slam the front door.

You grab a cloth and cautiously walk out in just your pink shorts, a white crop and your hair in a ponytail “Ellie?” You call softly as you follow the sounds of her groans into your brothers room, you creak the door open and your heart drops at the sight “fuuck baby” you coo, stepping forward with the rag in your hand and reaching up to wipe the bloody corner of her mouth “don’t call me that”

She hated when you showed her affection but when she saw your bottom lip tremble, your eyes tear up and your gaze fall she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around you “shh it’s okay mama” she cooed, rubbing circles onto your waist. You knew what she was going to ask for next. She always knew how to talk to you when she wanted something. She knew what you needed to hear.

The auburn headed woman huffs through her lips “I need you mama” and your eyes light up as you look at her from the spot on her chest where she rested your head “yeah?” She pauses “yeah” and separates herself from you.

Her eyes land on your lips then to where she taps on her belt buckle and you understand instantly what she wants from you as you drop to your knees softy. Even though you knew she saw you as nothing but a release you were on your knees in front of her and insatiable for the taste of her, clumsily unbuckling the leather of her belt, undoing her zipper and pulling the denim past her pale thighs, her boxers following suit soon after.

Your mouth falls open and your pupils turn heart shaped at the sight of her as you take her in, the auburn trail that led down her toned tummy to her bush, the glisten of her slick against her lips. Your gaze softening and your breaths picking up as she lifted one of her legs over your shoulder and gripped your ponytail “cmon mama, are you gonna make daddy feel good?” “yeah..” you trail off, never removing your eyes from her wet cunt as you feel yourself throb against your panties “gonna make you feel so good daddy”

You breathe in as your fingertips dance on the outside of her thighs, feeling her smooth flesh as your lips meet her cunt and you feel her hair tickle the tip of your nose as you kiss over her lips and whine at the feel of her on your pout as you slide your tongue through her dripping folds, a guttural moan leaving your throat as you palmed her ass and pressed her closer to your mouth while you tasted her beating clit, sucking on it as your eyes met hers.

Ellie nearly came at the sight of you, her clit between your lips and her slick painted across you face as your pretty doe eyes begged so desperately for approval from the girl that gripped your hair and rewarded you with a strained groan.

Your cunt was aching as she pulled on your hair, disconnecting you from her puffy clit and gripping your chin to open your mouth “tongue out” and your pink muscle is revealed to her instantly before she disrespectfully spits onto it and carelessly shoves your face back against her cunt as you instantly sucked and flicked at her clit.

Both of her hands gripped onto the back of your head as her hips bucked “oh fuck” her voice cracks “that’s it baby, just like that” and you nod, closing your eyes and whining “please” begging her to cum on your tongue, begging to be used like the slut you are, your cheeks hollowing and your finger teasing her entrance and slowly sliding inside her, making Ellie fold over as she clenched onto your finger, her belly spasming and hips bucking as she grinded onto your face, pulling your hair so hard that it hurt as she coated your finger and tongue in her pearlescent cum while she panted above you, trying to regain her breath.

A sigh left her and her puffy clit throbbed contently on your tastebuds as you rested your face against her and pulled your finger from inside her pulsating cunt “you taste so good daddy” you praise onto her pink flesh but doesn’t answer.

She lifts her shaky leg from your shoulder “you’re so good for me mama” and you try to hide the stupid smile that appears on your face as you look at her and dress her again as she runs her fingers through your hair while you close over her belt and kiss the buckle before raising to your feet and wrapping your arms over her shoulders, looking at her blushed face and leaning forward for a kiss, you’ve never kissed her before despite how intimate you both have been it still felt distant but this time felt different, it felt like she actually cared about you and you cared about her, you always have.

Your eyes flutter close as you cup her face, ready to finally feel her mouth against yours before you felt her leave your grip “go get cleaned up mama” she says before turning around and sitting in your brothers gaming chair, picking the controller up and turning on fifa again without giving you a second glance.

You felt your mouth turn into that horrible feeling of a frown and heard a sob leave your throat but Ellie acted like she couldn’t hear you, she wished she couldn’t hear you “close the door on your way out.” “okay” you whisper as you looked at the carpet and walked away.

You felt so used, a small tear rolling down your cheek as you left the room and closed the door behind you.

You walk into your bathroom and stop to look in your mirror, the sight of Ellie glistening on your lips and the tears rolling down from your bloodshot eyes turned your stomach as you tried to wipe them away while you stifled a sob as you heard the front door slam and your brother come up the stairs, walk pass the bathroom and into his bedroom.

He stood against the doorframe as he eyed Ellie “You gonna admit I won now?” He says to her, he seems more calm now and so does she, maybe fucking his little sister made her feel like she truely had a one up on him anyway. Sure he beat her score but she fucked his sisters face just moments ago so she didn’t give a fuck if he thought he won.

“Sure” she laughs as she tosses him the controller and sparks up a blunt, leaning back in his chair and manspreading as she took a draw and smirked to herself before she spoke “your sister is nice”

He stilled as he paused the game and stared her down “don’t you dare” he has always been protective of you and Ellie knew this “what?” She giggled “just don’t” “bro she’s your sister” she rolls her eyes “what do you take me for? I’d never”

@williamellieslilho @yourelliewillms @moonalumi @heygrimace @pascals-doll @infiniteinquiries @aouiaa

[eternally-racing]

can i have this dance? | lando norris

pairing: lando x wife!reader (and their teenage daughter!)

genre: fluff

wc: 2k

summary: When your daughter goes on her very first date, it's time for you and Lando to accept that your little girl is growing up - especially when a familiar face shows up at your door.

this can be read as a standalone fic or part of the racer girl series!

---

“I’m going to need to have a stern talking with him when he gets here, you know.” Lando stands in the doorway of your daughter’s bedroom as he watches her double check her makeup in the mirror for what feels like the 20th time. 

All Lando can think about is how fast his little girl Piper is growing up as she looks so grown up getting ready for her first date.

 “It’s not even a real date, he just asked me out to prom” is what Piper said as she tried to break the news to you both gently. She knew that you wouldn’t be a problem, that you enjoyed hearing about all the dating drama that had been going on in her class. In fact, she had come to you first for advice on how to tell Lando about it, but you would never admit that to him. The two of you girls had a bit of a master plan to break it to him - it started with cooking Lando’s favorite meal for him, watching your favorite movie with him together as a family, and then finally breaking the news gently over dinner.  

Lando chokes on his food slightly when the topic comes up, trying to chalk it up to the spice you’ve put in the pasta even though you and your daughter can see right through the lie. He simply nods at the dinner table and doesn’t say another word on the topic - instead choosing to shift to discussing some upcoming vacation plans. 

While his blatant lack of reaction was a pleasant surprise to Piper, you knew there was something else under the surface. 

“That’s what I was waiting for” quickly spills out of your mouth once you see Lando start pacing around your bedroom when you’re getting ready for bed.

“Can you believe this? She’s dating now?” Lando exclaims with his hands in the air. The British man is pacing back and forth as he keeps muttering under his breath in disbelief. 

You, on the other hand, are the complete opposite. You’re starfished out on your bed, Kindle in hand as you look like the epitome of being relaxed. It was actually a stark change for you to be the one that’s so calm and collected, and it was usually Lando who had the job of trying to comfort you. 

 “It’s prom - it’s normal that she has a prom date! Hell, you were my prom date.” you exclaim.

“True, but I’m me - and she won’t even tell me who this guy is. What if he’s one of those kids that just been repeating high school over and over again so he’s actually just in his 20s and super creepy.”

“First off, no, he’s a regular high schooler, I promise you that. I actually think you’d like the kid.” 

Lando looks at you with an air of suspicions as his eyes narrow and he stops in his tracks. “Wait, how do you know who it is?” 

The guilty look permeates on your face as Lando keeps pressing you for answers. He’s made it from being across the room to now being chest to chest with you in seconds, prodding you in the side for answers. He’s relentless as usual, as you give into his charms all too easily. 

“Okay, okay. I don’t know anything for sure so I don’t want to give you false information which is why I didn’t say anything. But me and some of the PTA moms were talking and we have our theories.”  

It’s no surprise Lando finds your answer unsatisfactory as he begs for you to tell him more. 

“Nope! My lips are sealed” you say with the gesture. “Prom is literally in just a couple of weeks, Lan. You’ll find out soon enough.” 

- - - – - - - -

Those weeks fly by and before you know it the special day is here. Lando has been on the quieter side all day, but your house stays as noisy as always as Piper’s excitement fills the place. 

The knock on the door is gentle but you can still hear it from upstairs in Piper’s bedroom. You’re helping your daughter with the finishing touches on her hair and are about to walk away to answer when you hear that Lando has beaten you to the chase. Piper’s eyes widen along with yours when you both start to regret your decision to not camp out by the door to soften the blow. 

There’s an audible gasp from your husband as you hear him open the door. 

“Samuel Sainz?” Lando stands in disbelief in the doorway as the words fall out of his mouth.

The younger boy is a spitting image of his father. He’s clutching what looks like a bouquet of handpicked flowers in his shaking hands as he looks up at your husband. He was only a couple months older than your own daughter, having grown up just a few doors down from your family when you all used to live in Monaco. There weren't that many schools to choose from when they were younger, so naturally you had come to see Samuel and his parents quite often throughout the year. It was of course only helped by the fact that both of their dads were best friends. 

“It is good to see you, Mr. Norris. I’m just here to pick up Y/N, if that’s okay?”

 It’s an adorable sight really - even from the top step of the stairs you can tell how nervous the boy is by the way that he uncomfortably shifts his weight between both legs. You wince knowing that him phrasing it as a question is giving Lando the opportunity to launch into his “protective dad” talk, which you had heard more than a couple of times from him in the shower over the last week.

“Why don’t we grab a seat and chat before Piper comes down, Samuel?” Lando sounds extra official as he guides the younger boy to your couch. 

As you watch from the top of the stairs, you can see Lando put on his intense stare as he leans forward to intimidate the younger boy. 

“So, what are your intentions with my little girl, Samuel?” 

Samuel has an equally fiery glint in his eye as he says something along the lines of “my dad warned me this was going to happen”, before launching into his eloquent answer about how he wants to take Piper to prom and make sure she has a great night and that he’ll make sure that she’s safe and home on time. 

It’s not enough for Lando, you’re not sure anyone ever will be, as he continues to dissect every single word that comes out of the younger boy’s mouth.  You can’t bear to watch the scene in front of you any longer as you cut to say that Piper is almost done getting ready so Samuel could wait by the base of the stairs for her.  The younger boy gives you a look that you know means “thank you” as he bolts off the couch at the first opportunity to do so. 

Lando’s poker face facade falls once he sees his daughter at the top of the stairs. That’s his little girl all grown up - and for a moment he forgets about all his worries for the evening. He catches your gaze at the top of the stairs and can instantly spot the similar look of pride on your face. 

“Dad, don’t get too emotional on me now.” Piper jokes as she gives her dad a hug once she makes her way down to the main floor.. 

Now that she’s getting older, special moments like this are more and more treasured by both of them.  

Lando knows that it’s just for the rest of the evening, but Lando feels his heart starting to squeeze in his chest as he watches Samuel and Piper talk to each other. You’re right by his side as you rub comforting circles onto his back. 

“Not a minute later than curfew, young man, remember that.” Lando sticks to his stern demeanor as you roll your eyes. He really is the grumpy to your sunshine in this moment as you drape an arm around his shoulders.

“What he means to say is have fun, you two.” you smile as you take one last picture of the two of them before sending them on their way. 

Piper mouths a “thank you” to you as your grip on Lando’s wrist stops him from following the two kids out to the car. 

—-

Less than 15 minutes later, luckily once the shock has started to wear off of Lando, there’s another knock on the door. 

“Well if it isn’t the devil himself.” Lando mutters as he comes face to face with his old teammate and his wife. 

“Before you give me that look, just know that I only found out about this today. Turns out our wives are the true masterminds scheming in the background with our kids now.” Carlos mutters.

You and Rebecca are trying to hide your smiles as you lazily hide behind the excuse that you both needed something to talk to each other about while the men were away at their 6am tee times. 

Carlos holds up a larger than life bottle of wine from his collection for the four of you to share. 

“Figured you could use some of this tonight too, yknow, to cope with the fact that our kids are probably at second base with each other by now.” 

“They’re having sex?!” Lando looks like he’s actually going to pass out as he grabs your hand in fear. You and Rebecca will laugh over this on your own time later, but for now you comfortingly rub Lando on the back while Carlos also tries to calm Lando down from his spiral by pouring a heavy helping of wine into a glass for him. 

The night from then on actually stays pretty uneventful. There’s a couple of rounds of board games played while you order some takeout for you all from your favorite Italian place. 

“I think I see some gray hairs in there, mate, you’re getting old.” Carlos tugs at Lando’s curls to try and find one to pull out. For a minute the two of them argue like little kids, almost finding themselves in a full cat fight while you lean back and watch it all happen. 

“It’s a Friday night and we’re playing Catan and drinking fancy wine while we wait for our kids to get back from a school dance, Carlos - safe to say we’re not in the days of closing down the club and buying everyone free tequila shots.”  Lando muses 

“AND some of these hairs are brand new thanks to your son, mate, don’t forget that.”  Lando rolls his eyes as he quips back at the Spanish man.

The Sainz make sure to leave before their son can come back, as you all had come to the conclusion to stay out of your kid’s romance as much as possible. With the promise to hang out again under less surprising circumstances, Carlos and Rebecca give you both one last hug before they’re out the door. 

In less than the time it takes for you to finish clearing away your takeout boxes, you hear Samuel’s car pull up in the driveway one minute before curfew. You know that of course, because Lando is waiting by the front door with a timer on his phone. 

There’s a ghost of Piper’s lipstick on Samuel’s cheek when he walks her back to the front door,  but you opt to say nothing to Lando.   

He’s instead focused on how happy his daughter looks - he can feel the giddy feeling radiating off of Piper as she has a little pep in her step going up the stairs. 

“Oh my god she’s in love.” Lando says in awe as he stares at the now empty staircase. 

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Lan. It was just prom.” you chuckle as you go back to clearing away empty dishes from your dining table. 

“No, I’m sure.” 

“That sure?”. Lando’s certainty makes you feel extra puzzled as you pause at the dining table. 

“Seriously, I’m sure Y/N.”

You walk towards him and interlace your fingers with his as you rest your head into his chest. 

“What makes you so sure Lando?” 

Lando gives you a sweet smile before kissing you on the forehead. 

“Because that’s exactly how I looked when I came home from my first date with you.” 

------

author's note: it has been far too long since i've posted something, so i hope you all liked this piece! Until next time! - Em 🩷