#two imagines in one day too whew

[berberriescorner]

pregnant sexs w rio

I had to sit and think of which direction I wanted to take this in. Whew, chileee! Way too many scenarios are playing in my mind. This man😩😍!

I'm going to keep it a stack with y'all. This turned into a whole-ass fic.

Sit back, buckle up, and prep yourself for the trip my imagination's about to take you on♥️. Love, comments, and reblogs are appreciated, lovelies💞.

A/N: Sexual frustration and prolonged foreplay ahead. If that's not your vibe. You may want to skip out on this one. A couple of twists and flips here and there. I hope you lovelies enjoy what I did with this♥️. Just a heads up, I really got into this one, so it's going to be pretty lengthy. Worked on it for a while. Even made a damn mood board...I couldn't resist.

One More Note: A polite, gentle reminder that I don't usually take requests. If you float something in my ask that I just can't resist. I will give in here and there. In other words, if you don't get a response, please don't take it personally.

If you missed any other ask about dad!rio or hubby!rio, they're all listed on my Masterlist under Rio Asks/Headcanons (in order). Enjoy my lovelies! Feel free to love, comment, and share🥰.

Song Inspo💜:

"Let's Go Little Kitty-Kat"

Livid. Irritable. Restless. Each one of these words perfectly describes your current mood. The kids had begged to spend their spring break with Rio’s grandmother. Marcus was spending his time off with her, and his siblings loved to follow big brother’s every move. You weren’t surprised that they wanted to be wherever he was. It didn’t hurt that their great-grandmother spoiled them rotten and gave them whatever their hearts desired. Even your sweet baby boy left his momma in the dust. That wasn’t the reason for your foul mood (though being in this big, empty house didn’t help).

You were angrily resting on the couch, a permanent pout etched on your face. You huffed loudly as your husband’s voice sounded on the other end of the phone call.

“So, you’re not going to say anything?”

 Silence.

“Mama,” he sighed. 

You were willing to bet any amount of money that Rio’s hand was running down his face right now. Were you overreacting? Possibly. Maybe even being a bit unreasonable? Probably so. Did you give a damn? Not at all. Blame it on the hormones.

“Let me make sure I’ve got this right. You’re pissed off–again? That’s two days in a row, mama. I’ve still yet to figure out the reason behind yesterday's bad attitude. Normally, I don’t let that shit slide, but I understand you’re emo-.”

“Call me emotional one more time, Rio.”

“And you’re going to do what, darlin’,” he questioned, voice laced with a hint of warning. Rio chuckled sarcastically, “I got a lot going on right now. Call me back when you’re ready to talk like an adult. Ready to get back on your grown woman shit.”

“Whatever, Christopher. You called me. Nobody wanted to talk to your dusty ass anyway. Get off my line,” with that, you both hung up on one another, more irritated than before the call.

You knew your behavior was coming off as petty, but too much pent-up frustration kept you from acting like a rational human being. You rolled your eyes so hard they nearly got stuck as you recalled yesterday's events.

You lay awake in bed, your body vibrating with lust. The day had dragged by slowly as your need for Rio grew more and more. You changed positions so many times your head scarf came undone.

“If I can just manage to wait up at least another hour. Maybe Rio will get here soon enough to put my ass to bed.”

Nope. The tiny human growing in your womb pulled you into a deep slumber. 

By the time Rio reached the threshold of your master bedroom. You were snuggled deep into the covers with pillows surrounding you. His shoulders lowered with a hint of disappointment. Rio knew you wanted him home, even if you hadn't said the words aloud. He could sense the attitude and frustration in your voice when he called to tell you not to wait up. Rio had tried his hardest to get home hours ago, but with every attempt at leaving came more matters that required his attention. He lowered himself to your sleeping form. Adjusting your scarf so it wouldn’t slip off, Rio softly pecked your nose and cheek. After a quick shower, he carefully climbed into his side of the bed, gently pulling two of the many pillows from behind your back. It took some effort, but he managed to cuddle up to you and delicately pull you into him. You stirred for a few moments but quickly fell back into a deep sleep. Your husband watched, smirking at the light snores you released.

“Night, Mama. Love you,” he whispered, kissing your neck.

The following morning, you woke up. Still horny as hell. You rolled over to find his side of the bed empty. He had been there. Rio’s side of the bed looked slept in. Your head turned in the direction of your en suite. Not a peep sounded. He wasn’t in there.

Maybe he’s downstairs. I should fix him something before he heads out. Perhaps he could eat me for breakfast. These freaking pregnancy hormones are out of control. Every waking moment, I feel like swallowing this man whole. When I’m not hungry, I’m horny. When I’m not fiending for my husband, I want to eat everything in sight. Fucking Rio. The dick just doesn’t miss. He shoots the club up every.single.time.

You smiled at your small bump, rubbing soft circles at the sides. Honestly, you didn’t mind being pregnant for the fifth time, but for your sanity (and the kids), this would be your last. If Rio wanted more babies, he had better find a damn good surrogate. Mama’s tired.

Does this man not realize he’ll have to pay for three, possibly four, weddings? Who am I kidding? In his mind, Rio probably believes he’ll be able to chase off any and every potential love interest. He’s in for a rude awakening. My dad didn’t like his ass at first. I have a (legally) pistol-toting father as well. That didn’t stop shit. Now look at us: marriage and a gang of children.

Pregnancy turned you into an impatient woman. When you wanted something, there was no convincing you different. 

In your thoughts, the bedroom door crept open. Rio’s head peeked inside. He noticed you sitting on the side of the bed and stepped into the room. He swaggered over to you, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. His voice was low, and restlessness lingered in his tone.

“Morning, Mama. You sleep alright,” he asked as his fingers took hold of your chin, tilting your head back for a kiss. His rough, calloused fingers danced along your jawline, trailing low enough to graze the outside of your breast. He smiled as you gasped against his lips.

The kiss started sweet, turning into hunger in mere seconds. You tried tugging your husband down onto the bed. Rio pulled back, pecking your lips a few times, before standing upright, hand slowly stroking the inner part of your thigh. With just a few inches, he would've been dangerously close to where you wanted him most. 

“I had to come to kiss my beautiful wife before heading out. I need to slide, mama. I’ve got a lot on my plate today. It's going to be hectic, and shit might get active. I ordered you some breakfast. It’ll be here soon. I’ll probably get in late tonight. Don’t wait up for me. Make sure you and my baby get some rest. Love you,” he said, kissing you again.

“Love you too, Papa,” you exhaled.

You watched him leave and groaned with irritation. 

It would be two nights in a row that he’d be coming in late at night. That typically wouldn’t be an issue. You had grown used to it throughout the years. The only time it became a problem was when you were in your current state: knocked up, horny, and hormonal. It was just something that switched in your brain during these times. You wanted all Rio’s attention. The need to have him buried deep inside you was high, and you couldn’t quite get your fill of him.

Several attempts to distract yourself throughout the day had failed miserably. No matter what you did, your thoughts always redirected themselves back to Rio and sex. You made one last effort to ignore the constant need to devour your husband. Turning Apple Music on shuffle, you opened a magazine and thumbed through it. Unfortunately, the universe wasn't on your side. Every song was more explicit than the previous one. A frustrated sigh fell from your lips as you shut the music off.

Enough is enough. Hubby won’t come to me, but rest assured I can go to him.

You padded to your bedroom closet, looking for a sexy little number. Slipping on a pair of Steve Madden heels, you snatched up your car keys. You set forth on a journey to Rio. Bringing him lunch would be your excuse for showing up unannounced. That reason, however, wasn't enough to prevent the lecture you received from an overprotective husband, Rio. As if that wasn’t enough, you also caught shit from your meddlesome bodyguard/homie, Mick. He escorted you into the warehouse when you arrived.

“Boss lady, you know you’re not supposed to be here,” he instigated.

“Mick, hush. I can bring my husband some lunch. Chill on me.”

“Alright, but you already know. The boss won’t be happy you're out, running around for him.”

“I went to get him some takeout. I didn’t even get out of the car. It was a curbside pickup.”

You were about to continue the debate when Rio’s voice sounded behind you.

“Mama.”

How could one little word send your body into a frenzy? You could sense both curiosity and a little anger in his tone. Mick stood there smirking at you. He knew what was about to go down. It was one thing for you to be out and about with no security detail. That was enough to put you in hot water. The fact that you were pregnant pushed his disappointment to another level.

“Mick, that thing we were about to take care of? Start without me. I need a few moments with my wife.”

He nodded in agreement, giving you a ‘good luck’ smirk on his way out. You turned your attention to Rio after the door closed. His jaw ticked as he shook his head in disbelief.

“What did I tell you about leaving the house with no security detail? You’re supposed to be at home relaxing. What are you even doing out and about? I specifically told you I’d be busy today. You know that’s code for business dealings. Your ass shouldn’t be anywhere near this warehouse right now.”

“I just wanted to bring you lunch, Papa. I needed to see that handsome face,” you replied in your best baby voice.

“Nah, that little voice and smile ain’t cutting it right now. Why are you so damn hardheaded?”

Now you were starting to get a little pissed. It was understandable that Rio was always concerned for your safety, but what choice did you have? Several, you had several. It just couldn’t wait. Yes, you were slightly irritated by his reaction, but the ache in your core grew even more being in his presence. The scent of his cologne wafted through the air. With just one sniff, you could feel your nipples harden.

These hormones are so out of control. I need this man to wreck my shit. The sooner, the better.

Taking a deep breath, you attempted to plead your case.

“But baby-”

“Listen. I’m too busy to have this argument with you right now.”

Rio closed the distance between you and placed his hands on either side of your face. He angrily sighed and pecked your lips.

“I appreciate the gesture, Mama, but please listen to me next time.”

You bit your lip, looking at him apologetically. Snaking your arms around his body, you allowed him to engulf you in a hug. Wrapped tightly in his embrace, Rio caught you off guard, giving you a hard swat on the bottom. His voice was low and gravelly as he growled, “You're trouble, Mama.”

You moaned, pushing your backside deeper into his palms. Eyes drifted shut as you stood on your tiptoes and puckered your lips for a kiss. Rio’s hands caressed the soft, plush globes as his breath fanned your lips. He denied your request for a kiss. Instead, his lips ghosted your neck, and his mouth traveled to your ear. Nipping at your lobe, he rasped, “Sorry, mama. We don’t have time for that. I have to go handle business.”

He pulled away, smirking at the frown that quickly shifted to a pout.

“We can’t spend just a few more minutes together?”

“Don’t do that, ma. You know this is important. Since you’re already out and ignoring my demands, why don’t you spend some time with your best friend? Here, take my card. Lunch is on me.”

This man is so preoccupied with business. He doesn’t even see that I came here to give him a piece of pussy. For some reason, that irritates the hell out of me. Usually, he can read my body like a book. I see where his priorities are at the moment. Business must trump his pregnant wife’s needs. I gave this man four and a half babies, and this is the thanks I get? Let me take my pregnant, horny, irritated tail home. His ass is sleeping on the couch tonight, and I don’t give one fuck that I’m being irrational.

“Nah, I’m good,” you waved your hand dismissively.

Sensing attitude, Rio tilted his head back, giving you a look of incredulity.

“Look, I ain't got time for the dramatics right now. I told you I would be busy. Go home, mama. We can discuss this in the privacy of our home.”

Cocking your head to the side, you gave him an irritated glare. A rush of pregnancy hormones came hurtling towards you. Snatching your handbag and keys from his desk, you stormed out of the room. Rio knew he struck a nerve and possibly hurt your feelings. Stepping into the hall, he called after you. Ignoring him, you stomped out of the building. With an exasperated sigh, your husband ran his hands over his face. Taking a deep breath did little to soothe the irritation that started festering inside him. It also didn’t help that the idiots working the warehouse floor were ogling your behind as you angrily switched out of the building.

“Y’all got a death wish or something? Fuck you looking at,” Rio barked towards the group of men.

“I suggest you get back to work before I unload the clip in this bitch,” he boomed, walking back into his office to cool down before heading to the meeting.

“She’s almost to her car. Hurry up! Follow her. Keep a watchful eye over her. She’s in her feelings. Make sure my wife and child make it home safe,” he ordered one of his men.

Her ass is out here walking around in those tight-ass jeans. We’re about to have a heated exchange when I get home. Out here showing out. She’s over here pressing on my last nerve and still making me want to put her on her back at the same damn time. Thick-ass. Feisty-ass. Sexy-ass. Spoiled-ass. Hormonal-ass woman.

Rio’s detail only served to anger you more. Pulling into your driveway, you flung the car door open, grabbed your stuff, and turned toward the henchman.

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter. Either wait out here or take your ass back to the warehouse.”

Not waiting for a response, you went into your home. Setting the alarm, you settled in for a quiet, lonesome evening. You had hoped a nice relaxing shower, comfy PJs, and stuffing your face would put you in a better mood. It could have worked, but your husband kept blowing up your phone.

Annoyed by the fourth call, you answered icily, “What can I do for you, dear?”

Rio could hear the sarcasm in your voice. “This what we on tonight?”

“Why, whatever do you mean, husband?”

“Cut the shit, mama. Why are you ignoring my calls?”

“You were oh so busy. I’d imagine that ignoring you would give you more time to concentrate on business, sweetie.”

“You petty as fuck. Stop being mean, mama.”

His mini flirtations went ignored.

This man hasn’t seen petty yet. Watch me work, Daddy.

“What can I do for you, Christopher?”

“Oh, are we using government names now? Bet. Why are you being stubborn?”

Silence.

“So, you’re not going to say anything?”

 Silence.

 “Mama,” he sighed. 

“Let me make sure I’ve got this right. You’re pissed off–again? That’s two days in a row, mama. I’ve still yet to figure out the reason behind yesterday's bad attitude. Normally, I don’t let that shit slide, but I understand you’re emo-.”

“Call me emotional one more time, Rio.”

“And you’re going to do what, darlin’,” he questioned, voice laced with a hint of warning. Rio chuckled sarcastically, “I got a lot going on right now. Call me back when you’re ready to talk like an adult. Ready to get back on your grown woman shit.”

“Whatever, Christopher. You called me. Nobody wanted to talk to your dusty ass anyway. Get off my line,” with that, you both hung up on one another, more irritated than before the call.

Hours later, you came down from your mood swing. Guilt slowly started to seep into you. Not one to give in and apologize first, you decided it was the right thing to do. Unlocking your phone, you sent a request for FaceTime. It rang twice before being denied.

He’s probably busy. I’ll try again in an hour or so.

The next time you tried his cell, you called. It rang several times before going to voicemail. Waiting another hour, you tried again. Ringing once, it went to voicemail.

Now, wait a fuckin’ minute. One ring means he hit the “f you button.” See, now a bitch is starting to get mad again. Woosah. Fight them mood swings, girl. Fight them!

Just as you had calmed your nerves, a text came through.

Husbaeee (Papa)🥰😈👅💦: You and the baby good?

Wifey (Mama)🌎💍: Yes, we’re fine. Why haven’t you called me back? Are you okay?

Husbaeee (Papa)🥰😈👅💦: I’m busy, remember? You didn’t feel like talking earlier? Why are you so chatty all of a sudden?

His petty ass.

Wifey (Mama)🌎💍: Stop making it hard to tell you sorry, Papa. Chill on me.

Husbaeee (Papa)🥰😈👅💦: Keep your sorry, ma. I’m cool on that. See you when I get home.

Oh, okay! It’s just, ma, now? Bet.

Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Rio smiled to himself. He purposefully pissed you off again. Part of him did it out of payback, but his main objective was getting you frustrated. If it had done the trick. You would be ripping his clothes off and begging to be fucked once he made it home.

Not one to tell a man where he can and cannot go in his own home. You decided against telling Rio to sleep on the couch. However, the need to be petty was vibrating heavily in your bones. You fought sleep as long as you could, hoping to wait up for him long enough to ignore him for a bit. The baby again had other plans and lulled you into a deep sleep.

Rio braced himself for whatever you had planned to throw his way. He smirked to himself, releasing a low chuckle before exiting the car. Dragging his tired body into the house, your husband entered the code into the security system. Resetting it, he headed in the direction of the bar. He filled a tumbler with two fingers of bourbon. Tossing it back, Rio let the warm liquid flow through his chest. He rinsed the glass, set it in the dishwasher, and headed upstairs. 

Her moody ass is probably sleeping.

Attempting not to wake you, he quietly padded up the stairs. Rio unbuttoned the first couple of buttons on his shirt as he walked toward your shared bedroom. He nearly made it there but stopped in his tracks. The look on his face turned stone cold, and he slowly turned his head to peer into the guest bedroom.

What the fuck is this shit?

There you were, the door cracked, and lights dimmed just enough for him to see you tucked in tight, slumbering peacefully. Your plan to ignore him may have fallen through, but you still managed to be petty even in your sleep.

You jolted awake, feeling arms slip under your frame and pull you up from the mattress. Moments went by as you willed your eyes to wake fully. Your sight focused on Rio’s angered expression, and you pushed at his chest.

“What the hell are you doing? Put me down, Christopher!”

He ignored you. Rio’s jaw ticking as he took long strides exiting the guest room. He carried you into your bedroom, laid you in bed, tucking you in. You started to explain that you were a grown-ass woman and could sleep anywhere you damn well pleased. The look in his eyes forced you to think better of it.

“I don’t give a fuck how angry you are! Your ass will sleep in this bed regardless. Go to bed mad if you want to. Your stubborn ass is going to do it lying next to me. No room for debate, mama. You mad at me? You don’t want to be near me right now? That’s all good, but you sleep in our bed. Roll to the edge of the bed. That's all the space you're getting.”

Rio snatched his shirt over his head and threw it into the clothes hamper. You did your best to bite back any more snarky responses as you watched Rio stalk to the bathroom. The door flew shut, and you mumbled, “Dramatic much.”

The bathroom door swung open. Standing in the doorway, eyes set on you, Rio commanded, “Can you stop talking? Please give me a moment of peace, ma. All that talking’s gon’ land your ass in a world of trouble. Save yourself, mama. Be quiet.”

You cut your eyes at him, sliding down into bed. You lay on the side facing away from him. The corners of your mouth pulled into a mischievous grin. Waiting for the shower to start, you attempted to remove yourself from the bed and head toward the exit. Rio's voice bounced off the bathroom walls, halting your movement.

“Get back in bed, mama.”

You kissed your teeth, “Ain’t nobody left. Shut up, Rio.”

“You heard what I said. Stop playing with me.”

Pouncing back on the bed, you snarled towards the bathroom door.

“Fix your face, ma. You’re trying my patience tonight.”

Can he see through the damn walls or something?

“Nobody worried about you, Christopher.”

“Yeah, okay. Your stubborn ass got back in that bed. Didn’t you?”

Rio wanted to wash the events of the day away. He wanted a few quiet minutes to destress, but being a little hellcat, you wouldn’t give him that. You had a response for everything. He loved you combative and keyed up, but tonight, you were laying it on thick and wouldn’t let up. Rio was slightly irritated that his plan to piss you off again was starting to backfire. Taking a few calming breaths, he readied himself to regain control of the situation.  

The water cut off, and he walked into the room, towel hanging dangerously low around his waist. There were beads of water sliding down his naked torso. Being irritated by him wasn’t enough to stop your eyes from tracing him from head to toe. Squeezing your thighs together, you bit your lip, fighting the urge to jump on him. Rio felt your eyes on him and smirked in your direction. He laid a fresh pair of underwear on the foot of the bed. Standing upright, his eyes connected with yours as Rio pulled the towel from his waist. His eyes stayed on you as he took the time to dry the rest of his body. Your vision latched onto his manhood as you watched it swing from side to side. The tip of your tongue danced across your lips, and Rio rasped, “You hungry, mama?” The knowing smirk on his face aggravated you. Not thinking it through, you mumbled, “Like you give a fuck.”

A low and bitter chuckle fell from Rio’s lips. That was your last chance. His bottom lip pulled between his teeth. His eyes darkened and held yours as he slipped into his underwear. Tossing the towel into the hamper, he crept toward you. The silence that filled the air added to the moment's intensity.

Rio’s fingers glided along the column of your neck. His digits cupped your chin, giving it a light squeeze as a warning. His face crowded your own. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from smirking. Finally, you had pissed him off enough to get the reaction you craved. Wetness pulled between your thighs in anticipation.

“This all could’ve been avoided, mama.”

Rio’s thumb traced your bottom lip as he backed away. You watched in confusion as he stepped into a pair of sweatpants and grabbed his phone. Stepping toward the door, you asked, “Where are you going?”

“Thought you didn't want to be near me, darlin’? I think you need some time alone. Just go to bed. I'm not tired.”

“I’ve been alone for two days! You’re such an asshole.”

His hand gripped the doorknob as he rolled his neck and shoulders. He was fighting the urge to pounce. With his back to you, Rio finished, “Next time you want to be fucked. Just say that, ma.”

You growled in annoyance, chucking a pillow against his back as he walked out of the room.

“Your ass is lucky you're carrying my baby. It's the only thing keeping me from snatching your little ass up. Crazy ass woman,” he called out from the hallway.

You punched your pillows and got back in bed. Too upset to sleep, a slew of emotions rained down on you. First, there were tears of frustration. Then anger, followed by another round of guilt.

Why do I keep putting this man through hell? All over some dick. That’s what it comes down to. However, if he would’ve cracked my damn back, this shit could’ve been avoided. You're so damn busy you can’t slide inside me and bust a quick nut? 

You smiled, rolled your eyes, and finished your thoughts.

Damn, I’m a brat. Let me drag grumpy pants back to bed. I thought, “wE sLeEp BeSiDe EaCh OtHeR No MaTtEr WhAt,” Head ass.

Rio was sitting on the edge of the living room sofa, arms draped over his lap. The longer he sat there thinking over the day and your attitude. The more he had to fight the urge to do the things he truly wanted. Rio fisted the top of his pants as wicked thoughts of you crying out for him cycled through. His hands trembled, filled with the need to possess and punish you. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back to calm his hunger. That plan fell through as your scent flowed into the room. He groaned, opening his eyes and settling his gaze on you.

“You could’ve slept in the guest room. Why are you being extra? I thought we didn’t sleep in separate rooms anyway?”

“I’m not about to keep going back and forth with you. Just go back to bed, Mama,” he responded with tiredness in his voice.”

That pulled at your heartstrings.

Be nice, bitch.

You swallowed your pride and made the first move toward reconciliation.

“Come back to bed, Rio. I’m sorry for being unreasonable, papa.”

Still standing in the entryway of the spacious living room, you waited for a response. The room was painfully quiet as you two watched one another. Rio’s gaze trailed your body. It was just something about you in his T-shirts that always drove him crazy. He kept his expression blank, making it hard for you to get a read on him. The silence continued for a moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was different. It wasn’t angry, but it wasn’t happy either.

It was dominant, possessive even. 

“Come here.”

Oh, shit. Not that voice. Anything but that.

There were two types of dominant Rio. One, you had been working his nerves for. The other? Not so much. You stayed frozen in place.

“Don’t make me ask again.”

Your legs carried you over to him. Stepping between him and the coffee table, you waited for further instruction.

“Look, I know I’ve been working your nerves-.”

“Mm-Mm. Quiet. Talking seems to be your downfall, Mama.”

Rio’s hands reached up and grasped your hips.

“Sit,” he instructed, pulling you into a seated position on the coffee table.

His elbows rested on the top of his knees, hands folded underneath his chin.

“You’ve been doing your best to get my attention. Now that you have it. You seem a bit worried, Mama. It’s what you wanted. Right?”

Silence.

“Good girl. You finally learned how to listen and not talk. It’s a little shocking, honestly. You’ve had so much to say for the past two days. Now, when it seems you’re about to get the response you want, and then some. You don’t have shit to say.”

You could feel the heat radiating off of him. Fucked. That’s what you were. There were times when you would overdo it, pushing him too far. Tonight was going to be one of those nights. Pulling in a shaky breath, you continued to listen. Being pregnant, you didn’t know how he would play it. That alone sent a shiver down your body.

See, this is what my emotional, spoiled ass gets. It’s too late to turn back now. Dear sweet Kitty Kat, I wish you the best of luck, girl.

“What’s wrong, darlin’? You seem a bit nervous.”

More silence.

Rio leaned towards you, placing his hands on your plush thighs. He was so close your noses were an inch apart. He tilted his head, angling it to nip your bottom lip. Pulling back, his hand massaged your left cheek. It circled your skin as he leaned back in.

“My hands itching to wrap around your throat, Mama. You know I can’t act like this and do things like that when you’re carrying my child. I don’t take risks with my seed, and you know that. Playing with your oxygen supply is the same as messing with theirs. So why the fuck do you keep trying me,” he groaned.

“Baby, I’m-“

“Shhh.” He laid a gentle kiss on your lips. “You've been talking all day. Right now is a time for listening, darlin’.”

He leisurely rose from the couch, towering over you.

“Let’s put your mouth to better use. Yeah?”

Your breath hitched as his fingers threaded through your hair. Tugging it, he tilted your head back, pecking your lips again. Rio’s eyes held yours as his free hand dipped inside his sweatpants and briefs. Releasing and stroking his member, he hovered over you.

“You wanted some attention. Right, mama? You need dick? Open that pretty little mouth for me.”

Rio jerked your head forward. Hand still wrapped tightly around his thick length, he tapped it on your lips. Your mouth watered and instantly fell open.

“Now you want to be a good girl,” he groaned, swiping the head of his cock on the tip of your tongue.

You started to wrap your mouth around him, but he backed away. A whimper fell from your mouth. Rio held your chin, “I’ll tell you when you can eat it up, Mama,” he whispered, gently tapping your face with his girth.

“You so fucking fine. Wet juicy ass lips got my shit throbbing,” Rio moaned, bending down to kiss you again. Eyes blazing, you used your mouth to capture his thumb. You suckled it, giving him doe eyes. It was as if your beautiful orbs were pleading for him to give in. Your body was so wound up it screamed for some sort of relief. You so desperately wanted to taste him. Thoughts of him spilling his seed into your mouth had you salivating. Rio’s lips parted as his tongue did that snake motion you loved. He slid his thumb from your lips, moving it out of reach.

“Can’t even ruin you in the manner you deserve. I want to shove my dick in that pretty little mouth and fuck your throat until you choke. Damn, I want to leave you gasping for air, voice hoarse. You know I love the way you swallow the dick.”

 An appreciative whimper sounded from your lips. Rio’s eyes danced with excitement. He took joy at the needy and desperate look on your face. The rise and fall of your chest quickened as sinful sounds came from your sweet lips. 

“Look at you moaning and whimpering. That’s my nasty bitch. Does the thought of me shoving myself down that pretty little throat turn you on, mama? It makes you wet. Doesn’t it?”

You shivered and released a stuttered breath, “Daddy, please.” He smiled wickedly, “Damn, I love it when you beg, darlin’.”

“Christopher, please. I’m about to go crazy. I don't think I've ever wanted to swallow you down this bad. Please, Papa. I need you.”

A chuckle fell from his lips. Rio swallowed hard, and you could see the pulse dancing on the side of his neck. His eyes grew darker as he leaned close enough, and you felt his breath brush against your lips.

“You are so cute, mama. Beg as much as you want. The question is: Do you think you deserve it,” he whispered, peppering your lips with light kisses. The corners of his lips lifted, forming a smile as you panted the word yes. “Mm, no. I don't think so, darlin’. You've been stomping around, throwing tantrums, twisting and turning, rolling that neck for days now.”

Your impatience and temper got the best of you.

“If you're so tired of my damn attitude. Put me out of my misery already. You're the one being stingy with the dick! You can't find a few moments to love on your wife?”

There was that sinister smile once more. Rio’s hand went to wrap around your throat, but halfway he stopped. Closing it into a fist tightly, he forced it down to his side. He smirked, slowly opening his mouth to speak, “You’re letting these hormones rattle you, mama. They got you impatient as fuck and coming out of pocket.”

Tucking himself back into his sweats, Rio reclaimed his spot on the sofa. Leaning back into the cushions, he watched your face twist up in frustration.

“Fuck this. I’m going back upstairs. Sleep wherever you want. I don’t care.”

“Sit. Down,” Rio roared.

You froze, back still facing him.

“I’m getting tired of saying things twice,” Rio hissed. “Sit your ass down.”

You swung around and stomped to the coffee table to reclaim your seat.

“Not there. Come here.”

Standing in front of him, you crossed your arms over your chest.

“You beckoned? Dear sweet husband.”

Though Rio wore a thin smile, you could tell he didn’t find shit amusing. Glancing at his lap, he whispered, “Sit.”

You kissed your teeth, plopping into his lap. He pressed up against you, hands gripping your waist. “You enjoy making me tick. Don’t you darlin’?”

Not waiting for you to answer, one hand abandoned your waist. It slid into your hair, tugging at the strands. The action caused you to release something Rio couldn’t decipher. What had started as a gasp shifted to a whimper and ended as a moan. The sound caused his erection to twitch underneath you as he bit back a groan.

“Why are you giving Daddy a hard time? Thought you loved me, Mama,” he teased.

Your lips parted, but he tugged more, signaling you to remain silent.

“Don’t deny it, love. I’m over here fighting everything in me right now. I know how you want it. You ain’t in no condition for that, baby girl.”

“How do I want it, Papa,” you whispered breathlessly.

Rio’s hand trailed to the column of your neck. He gave it a light, gentle squeeze. Pulling your ear to his lips, he groaned, “You want that rough shit. Need me to choke you. Talk my shit and say all the nasty things you like. Pin you down, fuck you until you cry. That’s what you want, yeah,” he questioned, nipping at your earlobe.

A smirk danced across his face at the sound of your whimpering.

“Can’t you just do it as gently as possible? Please, you begged, grinding into his lap.

His growl bounced off the living room walls. It was a signal, a warning, but you couldn’t help yourself. Circling your hips, you pressed further into his erection. Rio hissed, “Behave. You really gotta chill, Mama.”

You stood long enough to turn and straddle his thigh. His hands cradled your small bump. Pecking his lips, you watched as Rio’s eyes fluttered closed. The two of you slipped into a sensual kiss. Your hips rolled as you started to grind your moist panties against his thigh.

“Papa, please. I’m begging you. I need you. I’ll take it any way you’d like.”

He sucked in a shallow breath, grasping your chin.

“I know you will. You don’t have a choice, mama.”

Cocky motha-.

“Keep grinding that slick little pussy against me, baby,” he rasped, grabbing up the globes of your behind. “Now I know you can do better than that. Grind harder,” he finished with a smack to each cheek. Mouths collided as your fingers traced patterns along the nape of his neck. Your tongues wrestled for dominance. His palms dug into your supple flesh, guiding you along the slick spot that started to form on his thigh.

“Damn, mama. Just the sound of my voice makes that little pussy weep, yeah?”

He watched you with pride, your eyes shut tight, breathing ragged. Rio moved his hands to your breast, giving them a light squeeze. He moaned as his teeth sunk into your bottom lip.

“Go a little faster. Pull yourself toward the edge, darlin’.”

Your body rocked faster against his drenched thigh as his hand crept until it found its way underneath your shirt, pulling at the hardened nipples.

“Christopher.”

“Hmm, baby? Talk to me, mama. What do you need from Daddy?”

The words got stuck in your throat, and you edged closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. Your head tilted back, and the mewl you released made all Rio’s blood rush to his thick member. He peppered kisses along the soft skin of your neck, cooing, “You close, baby girl? Hmm? Come on now, tell me how you feel, darlin’. Let me hear that pretty voice.”

“So damn close. Add a little pressure, Daddy. Press into me, please.”

Rio chuckled, lifting his thigh just enough to give you the desired pressure.

“That better, sweetheart?”

“Fuck,” you whispered. Ye-I’ma come. Please-.”

You started to tremble, signaling an explosive orgasm. Rio’s fingers gripped your waist, halting all movement. A high-pitched whine echoed throughout the room as you tried to power through his grasp and thrust your hips. His hold on you was too strong to fight. The teasing chuckle he gave frustrated you.

“Why would you do that? Don’t play with me like that, Rio,” you whimpered.

“Oh, you thought this was about to be easy? No, love. See where all the nagging and expectations got you. Playing with my patience had you believing I would let you have your way. Fuck that. You better work for that shit, mama. You know how I operate, and I ain’t feeling too generous right now.” He pinched your nipple, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth.

Shoving his shoulder, he fell back against the couch, pinning you with a mischievous glint.

“Ain’t shit funny, Rio. You’re pissing me off,” you snapped, pacing the hardwood floor.

“That makes two of us,” he countered, shrugging his shoulders.

“What happened to a happy wife, a happy life? I’m carrying your child. Where is the love?”

“So damn dramatic. You just knew you’d get your way, huh?”

You stopped, turning to face him. Your arms crossed your ample chest. Frustration ran deep in your mind. The two of you matched glare for glare.

Rio’s eyes darkened as he stood, walking toward you. He kissed you long and hard, backing you toward the living room wall. Your body shivered as you made contact with the chilled surface. He broke the kiss and rasped, “Should’ve used these past few minutes to make a convincing argument,” he tsked. “I don't even know if you deserve to come at this point, darlin’.”

Rio dropped to his knees, and you watched his head disappear underneath the fabric of your shirt. Heat pulsed throughout your core as you felt Rio pull fabric aside. Thousands of tiny sparks flooded your body as you felt his wet, warm tongue trail from the bottom of your dripping sex to the top. His middle and pointer fingers spread you open while the tip of his tongue danced around your bundle of nerves. You released a shuttered breath, head tilting back as your eyes fluttered closed. Without having to look up, Rio paused his licking and growled, “Keep you’re fucking eyes on me. Take off this damn shirt, and watch me eat this pussy up, mama.” 

Say less. I got you, Zaddy.

His eyes burned with passion at the sight of your breast. “You don’t need these either,” he rasped, tearing the panties from your body. Without another word, his head dipped back between your thighs. He teased you with nips and licks until you squirmed, begging for more. The pace had started achingly slow. His breath fanned your lower lips, “Look at you wiggling and shit. Are you aching for me, mama?” Rio inhaled your scent, “Damn, I’m about to eat this shit up.”

“Less talking. More licking, Papa,” you mewled, trying to thrust your heat back into his face. Rio leaned away.

“See, that’s your problem. You need to learn patience, mama. We don’t need to rush. Let me take my time and enjoy all this fine dining.”

“Truthfully, you get off on torturing me, don’t you?”

Instead of using his words, Rio answered with action. Still holding your lips apart, three fingers from the opposite hand pressed into your clit, rubbing wide circles slowly.

In a husky tone, he taunted, “Come on, sweetheart, I know you can get wetter than this.” Your sarcastic rebuttal halted as he continued, “Let me help you with that, ma.”

His words fully registered as you felt his saliva collide with your silky flesh. His mouth covered your lips again, alternating between slow, languid strokes and rapid, hungry licks. From the movement of his tongue to the way he gripped your thighs. Feeling everything at once was hurdling toward a powerful orgasm. His fingers rejoined the party, using them to fumble with your clit as he thrust his tongue into you.

“N-no, baby. Not ye-it’s too soon. S-slow down, fuck!”

Your hand wrapped around his wrist, trying to pull his fingers away. Rio swatted it as he hoisted you higher, locking his arms around your thighs.

“I thought you wanted to come though, Mama,” he teased. “Let me switch it up for you, yeah?”

His tongue replaced those same fingers, licking and sucking your sweet little nub like a man who hadn’t eaten in days.

“Oh! You fucking demon. Daddy, no,” you mewled, body starting to jerk. The sensation sent tingles throughout as your fist pounded against the wall. The digits of the other hand dug into his scalp. You felt him smile against your flesh, moaning and growling. Slipping three fingers inside, he flexed them, deliciously tapping your g-spot. The pace of his digits quickened as his lips wrapped around your abused clit, and he sucked as hard as he could. Your body writhed. The feeling was so intense you considered climbing the wall.

This bitch would go harder. I need to learn how to shut up.

Rio tsked again, “There’s nowhere for you to run, Mama. Daddy got you locked in,” he taunted, fingers speeding up a little more. “Thought this is what you wanted, hm? You've been crying for this all day. Is it too much for you, baby?” Rio’s fingers slipped out of you, and the palm of his hand delivered smacks over your lips. “Yeah! There we go! That’s that wet shit, mama.” Rio dove back in, the sounds of his mouth on your body growing more lewd by the second. All you could do was tremble and whimper. Rio groaned, his mouth devouring you. His words tickled your slick heat, “ You gon’ come for me? Hmm? My mouth got you leaking all over the place.” Your legs started to shake as his tongue lashed at your skin. 

“Answer me, ma,” he demanded, harsh yet sexy.

“Yes, fuck. I’m so close, shit!”

“Beg me to let you come.”

“Please, Papa! Let me come all over that sinfully delicious tongue.”

“I know you’re close. Look at that pretty little pussy squeezing around my fingers,” Rio teased, adding a fourth finger. “Look at these thick thighs shaking,” he taunted. Your husband took a moment to nip at your inner thighs. “Soft as fuck. Tastes so damn good.” His lips licked and sucked at the soft skin as he massaged your g-spot.

“Hold on a bit longer for me.”

His eyes glistened, and you knew Rio was about to make you suffer. There was something in his expression that just reeked of revenge. Minutes ticked by, and you were proven right: every torturous lick of his tongue was his getback. Every time his lips captured your bundle of nerves, it felt like he was trying to suck the soul out of you. He had brought you to the edge for the third time, only to slow down. Tears threatened to spill as you begged and pleaded. At this point, you were no longer begging him to come on his talented tongue. You just wanted him to wrap your legs around his waist and pound you into an earth-shattering orgasm. Twice, you had tried pulling his head away, pressing him to fuck you. Both times, Rio denied you and went right back to eating. His greedy mouth slurped at your juices, “Mm-mm, mama. Daddy’s still hungry.”

His tongue grazed your clit, causing your body to shiver with force. You cried out, “Rio, please! You have to let me come. I can’t do this anymore.” Tears trailed down your cheeks, tugging at his heart a bit. He kissed your nub once more before he pulled up from between your legs. Using the pads of his thumbs, he wiped at the remnants of your tears. Pecking your lips, his hands cradled your face. “I’m sorry, mama. Shh, I know, baby. I know. Breathe for me, catch your breath.”

How could your emotions be all over the place? Yet, every ounce of you still ached for him. Though you were irritated and pissed at the way he edged you. The need to be fucked and orgasm was still the top priority. You could curse him out later. Truthfully, you had done it to yourself. You knew pushing him too far was what brought you here. Patience and understanding had been an option that would have left you well rewarded. Instead, you had opted to try to force his hand.

I’m pregnant, horny, and a bit illogical at the moment. I want what the fuck I want, and I want it now.

Rio’s eyes locked with yours, his orbs still dark but sympathetic at the same time. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he swept hair that blocked your vision. Taking a deep breath, he leaned in, lips brushing against yours.

“I’ma stop fucking with you, mama,” he whispered, stealing a kiss.

Rio shushed your whimpering as his hands trailed back down your body and between your thighs. His fingers brushed your slit, collecting moisture along the way. His fingers slid lower until they reached the destination they were in search of. Two fingers penetrated you as his free hand tweaked your nipple. You sucked in a sharp breath as his digits tapped against that special place in warp speed.

“R-rio. Oh, God,” you mewled. “No, please. I want you inside. I need you inside me, baby. Why won’t you just-.”

His head fell into the crook of your neck as you pleaded. An anguished growl echoed against your throat.

“I can’t right now, mama. I just can’t,” he responded helplessly as his fingers kept slamming into you. “Give it to me, mama. I know you can’t hold it anymore. Come for me, baby girl,” he moaned against your skin.

“But why? Oh! Fuck! Y-yes. God, yes,” you cried, falling over the edge.

“Fuck, mama. My arm’s soaked,” he groaned, breath shallow, as he trailed kisses down your neck. He waited for you to respond, but the only sound he heard was sniffling. Rio pulled back with a quickness, hands cradling your face once more. He kissed you, “What’s wrong, mama? Why are you crying?”

“Are you not attracted to me anymore?”

“Mama. Don’t start. Why wouldn’t I be attracted to you? That’s a wild ass question. Please don’t take this wrong, but these hormones got you all messed up. You know better than to ask me such a ludicrous question.” 

Your eyes started to water again, and Rio threw his head back, running his hand down his face. Releasing a long sigh, “Don’t start again, mama. You’re all over the place today. One minute, you’re cursing me out, trying to push me away. The next minute, you’re on me. I damn sure can’t keep up with the mood swings today. Now I’m getting pissed all over again because you're questioning my love for you.”

“It’s a simple question, Rio. Something must be wrong since you won’t fuck your wife. It can’t be that bizarre of a question. Just admit it. I’m gaining weight (not to mention I was already plushie before), so you’re not interested.”

“What number mood swing is this?”

“Fuck you, Rio.”

“You’d like that? A fuck. Wouldn’t you?”

“Such a dickish response!”

You stormed away, ignoring his demands not to walk away from him. Upon entering your bedroom, you slammed the door. Climbing under the covers, you snuggled down until you found a comfortable spot. He didn’t immediately follow you upstairs. Sinking back into the couch, he tried to calm his temper. 

Rio’s mood/urge was why Y/N hadn’t gotten what she wanted in the first place. He was right back to being as pissed as he was earlier. It was all the more reason to stay where he was until he could calm himself. During the first round of this sexually charged argument, it had taken every fiber in him not to fuck you relentlessly. No matter how bad you both wanted it. He wasn’t comfortable with manhandling you at a time like this.

He tilted his head back against the cushions and chuckled to himself. Looking back over the day, you had been a pain in the ass. However, Rio loved that you were adamant about getting what you desired.

The fact that she thinks there’s a way for me to be gentle and rough in that sort of head space is laughable. I love this crazy ass woman.

He replayed the last of your conversation. Guilt crept in as he remembered how your lip trembled as you fought back tears of frustration and neediness while leaving the room. Thinking the situation over, Rio started to hold himself accountable. He knew what to expect at times like this. If he was being honest, having another baby was mainly his idea. That thought alone had him shaking his head and smirking.

This woman is going to drive me insane. She can’t be serious thinking I’m not attracted to her right now because she’s pregnant. If anything, that makes my dick harder. These kinks, man. Her ass knows I love her any size. Mama knows I love it when she’s stupid thick. Damn, I want to bend her ass over something. Just wait until baby girl or boy gets here. I’m going to remember every single mood swing and attitude. Like that man Miguel once said, that pussy gon’ be mine. Let me check on her mean ass. Remember to remain calm, Rio.

He flipped off all the lights downstairs and made sure everything was locked up tight. It was pitch black in the master suite. Rio entered quietly, not wanting to wake you. The faint sounds of sniffles came from under the covers on your side of the bed. Your husband’s head hung low at the sounds, shaking it side to side in disbelief. Sadness ached deep in his chest. It had never been his intention to make you feel unwanted. He certainly didn’t mean for you to feel unattractive. You had pushed him to that place of uncertainty. Rio didn’t trust himself enough to remain gentle. His anger had been raging off and on for the past two days. It was time for him to set the record straight and make things right.

Self-control, my boy. Self-control. I may not be able to choke her. Let that mouth get to firing off again. I’ma spank this woman. Lord, help me.

He approached your side of the bed, attempting to lower the comforter, but it wouldn’t budge. You grumbled, “Don’t, Christopher. Just get in bed. Let’s get some rest. We can discuss this in the morning.” The fabric of the blankets muffled your voice a bit, but Rio could hear how you fought back tears.

Rio gently rubbed what he believed to be your hip. “Don’t hide from me,” he rasped.

“I’m not. Goodnight, Papa.”

He lowered his head, rubbing soothing circles against your back. He stood there a few moments, trying to find a way to make things better. A thought entered his mind. His head leaned to the side as he gave a quick head nod. Heading to his side of the bed, Rio checked his notifications one last time, setting the ringer to silent. He grabbed an item from the nightstand, setting it to the side. Rio got into bed, sliding closer. The feeling of his chest pressing against your back as he joined you under the covers.

“You still mad at me, Mama,” he questioned, leaving butterfly kisses against your skin. “You gon’ forgive me, hm?”

“Shut up, Rio,” you responded with a giggle and sniffle.

“You know you’re crazy for thinking that bullshit, right? I love you, mama. Don’t you know that you’re my favorite person in this world? I love you for life, woman,” he explained. “I’ll always be attracted to you, no matter what. You’re my heart and world, baby girl.” Rio nibbled at your neck. “Those better be happy sniffles, he teased.

“They are, trust me. Thank you for the reassurance, Papa,” you responded, voice still shaky.

His fingers caressed your thighs, drawing small patterns on your flesh, lips peppering kisses against a bare shoulder back to the soft spot below your ear.

“Papa, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m still wet from earlier,” you whispered, lower lips tingling again.

Rio shushed you as his tongue swept across the column of your neck. “You looked so damn good in those jeans with the heels. You just had to get me hard while I was working. Didn’t you? How am I supposed to focus with images of fucking you against my desk floating through my head?”

“I just wanted to see you, baby.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

His hand slid between soft thighs, swiping at the moisture pooling between your folds.

“Always wet. Forever ready for me. Shit. Give me those lips, ma.”

Both of you tried to take control of the kiss until his fingers pulled away. You huffed, “Not this shit again-Oh! Shit,” you moaned. Not only had he placed his hand back where it was, but you felt a lovely buzzing sensation against your clit. “Yes,” you whispered.

“Been waiting for the right time to break this out. You’ve been rambling on about that damn toy, so I bought you a rose, Mama. How’s that feel?” Unable to speak, you answered with a sweet sigh. Rio’s lips connected to your temple. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he laughed, increasing the speed.

Between his lips and the toy, you hadn’t noticed Rio tugging down his sweatpants. The kiss broke as you mewled. He bit his lip, watching you gasp at the feel of the rose pressed against your nub while his aching erection slid back and forth against your folds. The leaking tip dipped in and out of your spasming channel. The covers kicked down to the foot of the bed as Rio’s hungry gaze drank in the writhing of your bodies. His breathing quickened, listening to your faint moans.

“I think we’re both a bit calmer now. Don’t you agree, Mama,” he questioned, sucking in a breath at the wetness pulling around his tip.

If you had heard him, Rio didn’t wait for a response. He reclaimed your mouth, sinking his thick, veiny rod inside you.

“Got Damn,” you both moaned in unison.

“That’s a good girl. Take it all, Mama. So fucking tight. Grip that shit.”

Burying your head in your pillow, you trembled, moaning repetitively. Rio’s hands sunk into the plushness of your waist. His finger sunk deeper, pressing your behind into his lap. Pumping you slowly, you felt his hips do that circular motion. 

“Faster, Daddy. Please go faster.”

“Whatever you say, love,” he answered, pulling your hair and snapping his hips harder. “The settings go higher, baby.” Shifting the rose to its highest voltage, he growled at the screams that bounced around the room.

“T-too much. Fuck!”

“No, ma. You got this. Take that shit. Don’t you want me to make that pussy feel good, yeah? Yes, baby. Oh, shit. Take it, baby. Just let me pound that pretty little flower.”

Every thrust sent you higher. Your fingers dug into Rio’s hand as you thrashed about the bed.

“You keep fucking me like this. I’m not going to last much longer,” you whined.

“You got that. Go on and wet that shit up, mama. Fall apart. Come for, Daddy. I’ll put you back together and break you apart again. Don’t bury your face in the pillow. Let me hear you come loud and clear. Come for me right fucking now,” he demanded, giving your ass a hard smack.”

“Fu-Chris! Baby,” you screamed, body tensing, shaking violently. Kisses danced along your temple. Whimpers continued to fall from your lips, the aftershocks sending waves throughout your body. Rio attempted to center and bring you back down from the high.

“You’re good, mama. I got you. Good job,” he praised. 

You couldn’t imagine a better way to end a long day. At least that's what you thought until Rio decided to take it one step further.

“I’m not finished with you yet, baby girl,” he whispered.

Rio slid out of you, laying on his back, while he waited for you to turn toward him. Your face hovered over his. Staring lovingly into his eyes, you spoke softly.

“Tell me what you need, Papa,” you questioned, stroking his jaw.

He reached for your leg, bringing it over his to straddle him. Hands traveled the length of your body, stopping to cup your breast. Through body language alone, the communication was clear. Giving him a gentle nod, lip tucking between your teeth. Rio felt your digits wrap around his length, rising just enough. You slowly slipped his throbbing length into the slick cavern. The two of you moaned in unison.

Rio sat up, wrapping his arms around your waist. You rode him slow and steady. Biting your lip, he encouraged you, “Mm, that's it, mama. You feel so good.” He wrapped his lips around your nipple, tongue circling it hungrily. Giving it a playful bite pulled a meal from your lungs. Releasing the taut bud, Rio whimpered, “Keep squeezing me. Just like that. Fuck.”

He tugged one of your hands from his shoulder, placing the digits around the column of his throat. He smirked as your eyes widened.

“I can’t choke you, so why don’t we switch shit up? You be me for a change, mama. Be rough with Daddy, yeah?”

A tremble coursed through you at the thought of it.

“It’s your body, mama. You’re in control. Ride me as hard as you can stand it.” He pecked your lips, cooing, “Are you going to ride your daddy nice and hard, hm? This is your dick. Take it, mama,” he insisted, giving your bottom another slap.

Pushing at his chest, you laid him back against the mattress. Your hand tightened around his throat as your hips circled, taking him as deep as possible. Your head fell back as your speed increased.

“Oh,” you cried. “Daddy!”

“Look at me,” he gasped.

Your face floated above his, and you started to bounce erratically. Rio’s face twisted up as he grunted your name. The hold on his throat tightened, causing him to bite his lip harder. You felt his hands spank and grip your cheeks. The two of you entered a lip lock as the headboard banged against the wall. Coming up for air, you felt him twitch inside you.

“Fuck, Mama. I’m about to nut. Is that what you want, baby? Do you want to be filled up? Yeah, I know you do, darlin’. F-fuck! Come with me, mama! Right now!”

You both plummeted over the edge, calling out each other’s name. Trying to keep balance, your hands rested against Rio’s chest. He sat up, pulling you into an embrace. Leaving kisses all over your face, you giggled breathlessly. His arm reached around your waist, guiding you to lie down comfortably.

“Let’s get you cleaned up. Stay right here. I got you, mama.”

Rio disappeared into the bathroom, returning moments later with a warm towel. With the aftercare complete, he quickly got himself together. Making his way to the kitchen, Rio returned with a glass of ice water for you.

“Drink up. You need to replenish, ma.”

“Thank you, Papa. What about you, though?”

“Drank it downstairs, " he responded, cuddling up to you.

“So we’re switching roles now? Is that what we are doing,” you teased.

Rio’s laugh bellowed throughout the room. “Listen, ma. You’re little thirsty ass needed that rough shit. I figured since I’m not doing that right now. You can get your fix if I relinquish a little bit of that power. Temporarily, of course.” He gave your shoulder a playful bite. “You should know I’m keeping tabs for the remainder of this pregnancy.”

“Tabs? What tabs?”

“I’m keeping a mental log of every time you act up. The moment the doctor clears you. That thick ass will be stinging, and you won’t be able to walk straight for a few weeks. Maybe a month,” he shrugged, nonchalance written on his handsome face. His eyes reduced to slits, “Breath play’s about to be a beast for you, mama. Hate it for you.”

“No, you don’t, liar.”

“You said it. Not me,” Rio shrugged.

He felt your fist collide with his arm.

“Aye, chill out now. You know what, let me put this shit in my notes. What is this? That makes at least eight offenses. For the day alone.”

“Whatever. Goodnight, crybaby.”

“Says the woman that’s been crying all night.”

“Don’t piss me off again, Rio. Go to sleep. Keep in mind that you won’t be leaving for work on time. I can tell that I’ll be just as needy in the morning. Have my dick ready.”

“Just admit that you only want me for my body,” he teased.

You kissed your teeth and mugged his forehead.

“Aye! Chill. Where my kisses at?”

Rio pulled your leg over his waist, cradling your bump, and kissed you goodnight.

What did y'all think about that roller coaster? Hope you enjoyed it. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, lovelies 💕!

lovelies💕:

@darqchilddaydreamz @4everbrookemarie @fineanddandy @rio-reid-whoreee @novaniskye @that-one-anxious-mango @1andonlytashae @blkbutterfly816 @lovedlover @vanityinvenus

@librarian1002 @banana123pudding @fezcosonlylove @sunshine-flower @invisiblegiurl

@astoldbychae @amorestevens @starrynite7114 @alertyoulikeitsamber

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#389

This is a direct follow up to Story #387

“Well, hello there shithead.  So, you finally get to serve me outside some disgusting bookstore theater.  I hope you are ready to get really nasty. Get on your fucking knees pig and sniff my foot…. 

“Take a deep whiff!  I’ve been on my motorcycle for two whole days.  Haven’t had a shower in that time.  So I can’t imagine those dogs are fresh.

“Hey!  No one told you to start licking.  But since you started, you may continue.  You know, when I come over here, you will always start with my feet.  I want a foot massage at the same time as you are slurping on my toes.  The one thing I allow my pigs to do to me without permission is taking care of my feet: licking, sucking, cleaning, scraping, chewing, and so on.

“Don’t look at me like that.  You want to be an intern for the executive team, you got to do what’s expected.  Foot worship includes foot care.  In fact feel my heel for callouses.  Dry hunh?  I want you to scrape them off….  Use your teeth.

“Wait you think that’s nasty?  Aren’t you the one who seeks me out at Ruby’s bookstore and beg me to use you?  And how do I do that?  By forcing you to take random cock after random cock in your pussy, and then making you clean them off after they dump a load in you.  And I hold your head while those same blue-collar tradesmen bend over you clean out their ass cracks.  You drank my piss.  You are a pig through and through.  And you balk at this?  Shithead, please.

“You do as you are told.  That electrified collar around your neck is there for a reason.  While I don’t get into the pain thing like Ben and Lloyd do.  I will use it to get what I want.  You got that.  The four of us executives have our own thing when it comes to using shitheads like you, but we all believe that you need to be trained to do it all.  I’m here today to see how much of a pig we both know you to be.  One of those things includes eating the dead skin off my feet.

“Normally foot service is the beginning of giving me a tongue bath, but that will have to wait for now.  I need to take a piss. 

“Sit back on your heels.  Help me with my sweatpants.  Whew!  Smell that?  That’s my jockstrap.  I have worn it for a week now. 

“What are you doing?  Don’t discard my sweats in some heap.  Pick them up.  Now, sniff my crotch.  Inhale the nastiness.  You always sniff my crotch anytime you remove pants or underwear, or jock.  And’s not just me, but do that to Bryce, Lloyd, and Ben.  You should be able to tell the four of us apart from our crotch and ass smells. 

“Now sniff the ass too.  Even if there’s skid marks, sniff it.  My socks, you sniff.  My jock, you sniff.  My shirt, you sniff.  Then you fold it, and respectfully put it down. 

“Here’s my shirt.  It’s full of dried sweat and armpit stink.  I’m going to leave it with you so you can smell me when I’m not here.  Rub it on your face, especially the arm pit area.  Smelling my own pit gets me rock hard.  I love my stink.  One thing you need to know, and don’t ever fuck this up.  While you are expected to give me a tongue bath, you will never lick my pits.  I don’t want some piss drinking pig to contaminate my smell with his licking.  Rather I want you rub your face in there. 

“Here, get in here.  Rub your fucking toilet face in my pit.  Feel my oily sweat coat your nose, your mouth, your cheeks, everything….  Yeah pig.  Now the other side.  Get it in good.  You can use your lips, but no licking.

“You are going to stink!  But it’s my stink.  And that is everything.  Pull back, leave some for me to enjoy.

“As I said earlier, I got to piss.  Let’s go into the bathroom.

“Kneel in the middle.  Lloyd made sure that this bathroom was large enough for some serious fun.  Bury your face in my jock.  Oh yeah.  Like that. 

“You ready to drink me?  You did that a couple times in the bookstore’s theater in front of those hard-working men.  I don’t think the bookstore liked cleaning up the piss.  Oh well. 

“Put the bottom of my bulge in your mouth.  Feel my cockhead under the jockstrap pouch?  Tastes nasty hunh?  Just wait.

“…Ahhh!  Drink all you can pig as it comes through my rank jock.  You get the extra benefit of the week-old stale piss being reconstituted. 

“Get that mouth back where it belongs.  I know it tastes nasty.  That’s what I want.  But keep drinking.  I don’t give a shit that it’s going all over the place.  You can clean it up afterwards.  I see you want to gag.  Don’t you dare. 

“Focus on the task at hand.  Piss drinking should be second nature to you.  If not, it will be.  If you are retching at this, then the next thing is really going to make you hurl.  I got to take a dump.

“Ha! Ha! Ha!  The terror on your face tells me everything and is getting me hard.  Now I can’t speak for Lloyd, but I don’t really get into scat.  As nasty and disgusting as I can get, it’s not my thing.  I will think about it, I will tease you about it, but I’m not into the reality of it.

“No, what I have in store is you giving me a blumpkin, you are going to give me head as I take a dump.  Over here.  Kneel in front of the toilet….

“I put my jock next to my shirt.  After I leave, I want you to wear that jock around your neck.  You can enjoy the richness of my smells when you are alone.

“Ok.  You have blown me before.  You are to do it again now.  I’m going to do my thing….  Is this your first time?...  Well, just ignore the sound and the smell.  And the taste is going to be nasty.

“Oh, look!  After two days of being in the hot sun riding on my motorcycle, my cock was very sweaty.  I developed some cheese for you.  You can probably smell it too.

“Nasty, isn’t it?  Well, your job is to clean me up.  Now crawl over here…. PIG!  Now.  I will give you a count of three.  One…

“…Well damn!  That shock knocked you to the floor….  I guess the collar works.  You want another jolt?  No, then crawl.  Pig! Crawl!

“Good pig.  You are learning.  Don’t think about it.  Just take it in your mouth and start the tonguing….  Good!  Ahh! 

“…Don’t stop sucking.  Look up at me….  Notice I don’t have the remote or my phone in my hand.  So, you might be wondering who shocked you.

“Keep in mind, there are cameras everywhere, and that collar can be triggered by accessing the controls on the internet.  Now Lloyd, being our company’s Chief Security Officer, routinely checks the system to make sure that only us four men have access.

“Bryce could have zapped you.  He likes it when his presence is felt, always reminding the pig of his control.  It could have been Ben; he likes to inflicts pain on a whim.  Or, it could have been Lloyd, who likes pain and raunch and wanted to see you cleaning off my cock.  The thing is that it wasn’t me.

“The other interesting fact is that I’m done. 

“Pull off.  Get under the rimseat.  Time for some tongue fucking and face riding….  What?  Don’t give me that look.  Toilet paper service is not scat.  It has none of what I don’t like.  Now you may think differently; I don’t care.  Besides, you’ve eaten dirty asses before.  I’ve seen the asses I had you lick at the bookstore.  I know they weren’t 100% clean.  Besides, I know what foods to eat to make using toilet paper merely a courtesy.

“Under the seat.  Good pig.

“Look up at my ass.  If you remember, this is the first thing you saw of me.  You were on your back on that platform near the screen at the bookstore’s theater with your legs up in the air getting plowed by that electrician.  I stood over you, showing my ass.  Remember what you did?  You stuck out your tongue.  I squat down on your face and your tongue went to work at that instant.  I knew you were an ass eating pig right away.

“Get that tongue going.  Oh yeah.  Good pig.  Your tongue was made for this.

“You know, after I sat on your face and used you a few times, I recognized you immediately at the company picnic a couple of months ago.  I knew you were Timothy Stone’s boy.  I pointed you out to Lloyd and Ben and they were very interested.  Lloyd said he would investigate you and your dad.  I gladly bowed out and went to the office. 

“I looked at your dad’s work.  Well shit.  Being the Chief Financial Officer, it took me less than an hour to find how he’s been scamming the company out of a serious amount of money.  Lloyd found a lot more.  We got things set up for him.  Bryce is actually meeting with your dad in Vegas today.

“You don’t need to worry about that.  Just keep that tongue action going. 

“Too bad you aren’t going to Ruby’s any time soon.  But don’t worry.  Once you are established as trustworthy, I’ll take you on one of my bike runs as my pig.  The guys I ride with like to go to the middle of nowhere and drink, smoke, and fuck.  Ben and his boy sometimes join in.  We use pain pigs and raunch pigs however we want.  Some of those men can get rough and nasty.

“Some of them are local.  I should call them over to have you clean out their shitholes for them.  We need to get a good gang bang going.  That’s my thing, a good ol’ train going.

“Let me see if Lloyd wants to join in.  He’s always up for a good fuck.

“…Were you just zapped?...  That must have been him.

“Hey Lloyd!  I’m sure you hear me!  Get your cock down here and let’s spit roast the pig.

“Pig.  I know he’s training your pussy muscles to tighten up.  For me I want you to be as sloppy as you can get.  Remember each that for each cock going in your puss.

“Get your legs up in the air.  Keep eating my shitter.  I got your ankles.  Here, let me put them under my armpits.  Now that reveals your pussy to anyone walking in.

“Lloyd!  I told you this pig would meet our needs.  His pussy is ready for an all afternoon pounding.”

This story continues in Story #394 and Story #400

[juniperdugong]

Jewelry that they'd gift you 95's ver.

Warnings: Mentions of body piercings, Slightly Suggestive (?) || 95s || 96s || 97s || Maknae Line ||

SCOUPS ⟡ Okay, my first thought is super boring...it's either a necklace or bracelet with a little cherry charm! ⟡ Still extremely cute though~ ⟡ This is deffo the gift he'd get you a couple months into the relationship, something expensive that you can brag about to your friend (trust he wants you to show it off) ⟡ Later down the road though (once he knows this is serious) he would gift you a promise ring ⟡ On the inner band he'd engrave your initials or small symbols you correlate with each other ⟡ And he'd get a matching one! ⟡ The outside would be pretty plain though - for privacy reasons (Lore drop: I got piercings so lemme indulge in my lil fantasy real quick hehehe)

⟡ HE'D GET YOU A BELLY RING WITH EITHER A CHERRY OR HEART ON IT!!! HERE YE HERE YE! ⟡ I just know this man drools at the thought of a belly piercing on his partner and them wearing something that represents him?!?!?! Bricked up.

YOU CAN'T TELL ME I'M WRONG! CAN YOU SEE THE VISION?

JEONGHAN ⟡ This man likes understated pieces on himself ⟡ So he LOVES understated pieces on you, especially "couple" related items! ⟡ If you like to go all out and are flashy with your personal jewelry he doesn't mind but he likes the idea of all the relationship stuff being just for you and him ⟡HE KNOWS he's got you wrapped around his finger (bc it's Jeonghan obvi) so he doesn't need to show off with anything fancy ⟡ His opinion is, "Well who are they coming home to? That's right, me." ⟡ He'd get you a simple bracelet or necklace, something that would go with every outfit ⟡ Obsessed with the idea that he would get you an anklet though!! ⟡ It's not visible every day but he knows it's there...whew~ (Lemme indulge in this crazy fantasy too) ⟡ Permanent jewelry. ⟡ Once he knows you're the one, he would gift you some permanent jewelry. ⟡ It's essentially a simple chain, usually a bracelet or anklet, that is welded on and can't be taken off without tools ⟡ Hehehe he's so crazy for this one ⟡ Lowkey I think he would like this idea more than wedding rings for y'all

(I go feral for the idea of lowkey possessive Jeonghannie)

JOSHUA ⟡ We all know it's true...bracelets. ⟡ Adores seeing you in anything he buys really ⟡ But bracelets take this man out! ⟡ Especially if they're ones he designed or made ⟡ Like the ones he showed off on live forever ago ⟡ Totally the type of guy to get you a Pandora bracelet and get you new charms for birthdays or special occasions ⟡ Overall I think customizable things that can grow with your relationship are very much Josh's vibe ⟡ Because what's more sentimental than something that you create together? ⟡ Plus. no one but you guys has to know the meaning and that's a point of pride for him ⟡ Seeing you explain what they mean or even seeing you refuse to explain what they mean, just knowing that whatever he buys you is going to remind you of him makes his entire heart melt into a puddle ⟡ I have a heavy fantasy about this man touring and picking up a charm every place he goes and gifting you a bracelet (or two) of all of them once he gets back or for your anniversary! ⟡ Certified sweetheart, certified sentimental man (when it comes to you)

(Quick someone write a fic about him making a bracelet for his S/O!)

A/N: Teehee, just some headcanons to fill the space between things atm (I am very obsessed with all of these tho...like an unhealthy amount of imagining going on here) Hope y'all like it though! And have a great week lovelies! Please Reblog and Comment if you enjoyed ! (They act as power-ups for me)

Taglist (OPEN): @bemybabiibish @bath1lda

[octuscle]

My professor is such a pain in the ass! I tried turning him into an average dumb college frat guy, but it’s not working!

Whew! Indeed, your professor is a tough nut to crack. He's as stiff as if he'd swallowed a stick. On time like a Swiss watch. And the strictest teacher imaginable. I'll see what I can do. Time is pressing, it's Friday and the exam period starts on Monday.

07:30. Your professor's shiny Volvo rolls into the faculty parking lot. He's always on time to the second. His suit may be cheap, but it's immaculate. And he walks into the staff room with his hair perfectly parted. No one notices the small tattoo on his forearm.

When he arrives at your lecture, it's like a sensation: he's not wearing polished Oxfords, he's wearing sneakers. Pretty cool, pretty expensive sneakers. And WHITE socks! He's never been seen wearing anything like that before. And you swear his stomach is flatter. Normally his jacket always conceals a tummy bulge. But now his silhouette is perfectly slim. Unfortunately, it doesn't change anything about his lecture. He's way too fast, firing his questions like a sniper in the direction of the students who weren't paying attention. He's a pain in the ass, and that hasn't changed yet.

During the lunch break, the professor is seen wearing jeans for the first time. Pretty crisp fitting jeans. He really has a tight ass. And damn: Does he actually have a beard shadow? Normally he's always perfectly shaved. You're sitting in the canteen with your bruhs when he approaches you and asks "All gud, bruhs? can one of you give me uh fag? I must have forgotten mine at home…" You are far too surprised not to give him a cigarette. "You're such uh lifesaver, dude," says your professor and asks what you're up to this weekend. You tell him about your plans to go to the sports bar, work out in the gym and maybe take a trip to the beach on Sunday. "Sick thing" replies the professor. "See you around, bruhs!" He leaves you with your mouths hanging open.

The professor leaves the parking lot in his open-top Mustang with loud hip-hop music and screeching tires. You grin broadly. Your plan seems to be working. You are sure of it when you meet the next day at the gym. Your professor has a cool haircut, a stylish beard and looks like he's a regular at the tattoo parlor. You greet each other with a fist bump. And when he takes off his sweaty T-shirt after two hours, you say goodbye with a chest bump. Damn, this guy has a killer body.

On the beach, your prof disappears from time to time with random people and goes to the trunk of his Mustang. Shit, he's selling drugs. Hashish or apparently steroids and other stuff. And at sunset you see him lying on his towel smoking pot while one of the musclemen from the gym massages his nipples. Fuck, the boner in his surfer shorts is impressive. You're very pleased with yourself. You don't need to be afraid of tomorrow. It's a good thing you didn't waste the weekend studying.

Hot picture, you think to yourself on Monday morning when you see your professor's latest post on Instagram. And then you read the caption: "Sicc training 2 start the new wk. Now let's go kicc sum student ass. I luv it when i c the airheads sweating over my exam questions"

Pic found @marechais

[stargirlfics]

”making a movie” 😏 with Alfred

Whew the thoughts this immediately gave me! The thought of creating a private little video for the two of you, between the two of you, yeah that’s hot!

Here’s a quick moodboard I made to set the mood 🎥

Just thinking about warming him up to the idea, I feel like it’s probably not something Alfred has done before in his sex life but the idea is intriguing—he’s willing to try anything if you’re down and wanting so he figures why not?!

Maybe he already has a lewd photo of you tucked in his wallet or in a private file folder on his phone from the occasional spontaneous moment but something about this; taking the time to set up the camera, discussing it together, the obvious anticipation starting to build as you do, it really would be like foreplay.

You decide to keep it pretty candid and natural, not wanting to perform for the camera necessarily but rather it be something authentic and intimate for you both so you’re eagerly waiting on the bed while Alfred props up your phone or one of his camera’s and though you almost forget it’s recording the second he cups your chin to kiss you, there is something erotic about knowing it’s there.

Knowing you’re being watched in a way, that you’ll play the video back later watching it with him just to see all the passion in the way you fuck each other, how you look at each other, the dew that will stick to your skin the more you intertwine your bodies. It’s everything!

Oh…don’t think about Alfred positioning you so the camera will have all the perfect angles and goddd the way his hands would be all over you like he’s showing off his favorite parts of your body, taking his sweet time to loosen you up and turn you on even more.

“There you are.” he would coo next to your ear, “I love how much you want this. Fuck, I could watch those legs fall open for me all day.”

You’re already reaching for him, body buzzing and eager for more when it does something else to you entirely to watch him touch you where you need him most, the slick sounds of two fingers sliding over your pussy just for his head to dip and his mouth takes their place.

He’s a lot more feral in how he devours you, something about making a movie in the back of his mind as he draws out every expert flick of his tongue, unapologetic about the mess, just content to hear you enjoying yourself.

“Oh, I know I know darling. Let me have it and I’ll fill up your pretty cunt just like you’ve been asking.” The growl is so deep it gives you chills and your eyes flick towards the camera for a moment before rolling shut, coming around thick fingers pressed so deliciously against that spot that has you seeing stars.

Even when you’re trying to catch your breath, limp against the sheets Alfred doesn’t relent, his mouth trailing over your skin, across the curve or your hip and down your tummy, up to your shoulder and eventually settling on your lips in a shattering kiss.

You’re hungry for it, for him, swallowing his groans, his oxygen and your own whimpers while your bodies find each other easily. Legs parting to wrap around his waist so you can feel him too and it has you crying out when he rocks into you, any sense of self restraint fully done away with now.

Please wtf I need him so bad!!!

And when he’s finally sinking that thick cock of his inside you I just know he would talk you through the entire moment, gently turning your head to face the camera and telling you to keep your eyes on him. Our beloved knows exactly what kind of visual and auditory porn you’d want, period!

“Such a good girl, taking it like this. You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” While he’s stretching you out, hips pressing you into the bed can you imagine…bye I am passing away!

Then you’re losing your mind a bit later when you ride him and he’s so generous with his praise and encouragement that you’re bouncing on his cock just a little harder, just a bit faster and you can tell he likes that you’re just as feral and wanton for it as he is, it’s all about matching each others freak, babyyy!

You almost forget you were filming any of this when you’re finally spent and sleepy, whining when he moves from your embrace to turn off the video but he’s slipping back into bed as quickly as he’d left, bringing the camera with him so you could look at what you’d just made.

Barely five minutes in and you’re squirming against him, a fading ache of what just transpired still pulsing in your core and once again your heartbeat quickens when you glance at Alfred and see him already looking at you with that expression in his eyes again.

Till the paint peels off the walls I say

—

Ugh I wanna be his little movie star! 🌟 Thank you for the thirsty thought, anon. Hope you enjoyed!

[vargamornight]

so imagine you've been talking mad shit about a guy to your new best friend, right. but it doesn't really stick, because the first time she ever meets him, he literally saves her life. so she's like "i don't really see what you see, he seems pretty chill" and you're like "whatever. you don't get it, i grew up with him, trust me, i know him better than you do and he sucks. you can't trust him, he's only out for himself." and she's like "okay" but she still hangs out with him, even though she tries to hide it from you at first.

and then that guy starts dying. you know he's gonna die, you can see it happening, he's just the most recent in a string of deaths. he is going to die, right in front of you, if your new best friend can't figure out how to help him. so what do you do? you sit with him. you hold him. you help him get comfortable. you listen to what may be his last words. and then, when he stops breathing, you realize you can't let him die. you start cpr right there, right on the stairs, and you hope and pray that your friend can undo whatever's been done to him before you break too many ribs.

and she does! holy shit, she does! he starts breathing again, and so do you.

and then he doesn't remember any of that happening.

so you continue insisting that you hate him. that you don't trust him. but you start asking for his help—or, more accurately, you get your friend to ask for his help, because she's way more likely to get a yes than you are, because of your insistence that you hate him. he doesn't let you down, not like the last person you asked for help (she helped, but left you, because the kinds of things that happen to you and your friend were too much for her.)

your friend's birthday rolls around, and everybody gets together for a surprise party. you get her a nice sweater; he gets her a necklace that belonged to her long lost mother. you do hate him for that, just a little bit. she starts spending more time with him, trying to hunt down any information about her mother, which leads to finding out exactly how he's going to die. a man with a tattoo (a stylized maze, with four figures around it like compass points) kills him. you all know it's true. it was seen by a woman who predicted dozens of deaths. you've seen the tattoo before, too—on the arm of the first in the string of deaths you investigated all those weeks ago, when you held him as he died.

your friend spends a few nights in a row on his boat, drinking and playing poker with a mutual friend and two out of towners. you think nothing of it—at least, that's what you tell yourself. more honestly, you refuse to think about it. but then, it turns out, she was actually just spying on the out of towners, who turn out to be bad guys, thieves, after something on his boat. which is great news! she had a real, unrelated reason to be there! whew, that's a relief. out loud, all you say is that she has the right to spend time with whoever she wants, even him.

he asks you for help—his life is in danger. he was double crossed, and some very bad people want him dead. he asks you to help him. but him asking you for help sends a slice of spite through you, and you get the urge to remind him of a time he hurt you. you don't often get urges you can follow through with without facing criminal charges, so you give in to this one. he asks you if he deserves to die for being mean to you in the third grade. you shrug, you let him think you won't help, and then you set up an entire sting operation and arrest the people that double crossed him. he's safe. the two of you spend some time together and, for the first time in years, it's amicable.

a couple days later, he gets a threatening visit from a man, just released from prison, with the tattoo. THE tattoo—the one that belongs on the arm of the man who kills him. he freaks out, which is understandable. but then that man turns up dead, and your first thought is of him. you say it's because you suspect him of killing the tattooed man. you find him, panicked and paranoid, with a shotgun he looks more than ready to use, but his hands are shaking and his breath is uneven and when you tell him the man is dead, he's so visibly relieved it even makes you let out a breath. he's safe, and you know he didn't kill anyone, and he's safe.

your father dies that afternoon.

that evening, you are going to die.

maybe.

there's a very real chance that, if you go with your friend to try and help someone, you will die. you ask him to come with you. maybe you remember, think about the fact that when he was dying, you were with him. maybe you don't. maybe you don't think about why you're asking at all. but when he asks you that question without speaking—why would you want him there with you?—you say you want him there for her. maybe he believes it. maybe he's forgotten everything you've ever said about him. maybe he's forgotten that you tried to keep her away from him, claiming it was for her own good. maybe he's forgotten that, not six months ago, the only communication the two of you engaged in was when you would go to his boat just to slap him with whatever citations you could get away with. maybe he cares more about her than he does about you.

he comes with you, and he stays with you. he doesn't go with her, so now you both know you were lying. he stays with you when you collapse, hanging back and leaning forward, like he wants to hold you but he's afraid. (after all, there are people around.) but your friend is the best at what she does, and she saves you. he helps you back to your feet, holds your arms, looks into your eyes to see if you're okay. the bigoted old preacher who's hated you for decades sneers at the two of you, and insists "the lamb can never lie down with the lion." you wave the comment away.

later, he helps you dig your father's grave without even being asked. (that's a poem, all by itself.) he tells you, smiling: "i'm the lion." you smile too.

and that's just the first season, plus a premiere.

[cherryxblossxms]

Masturbation May - Day 4b: Dry/Pillow Humping (Nanami Kento)

A/N: The lovely @peachsayshi suggested Nanami for day 4! This was such a hot concept, I go nuts for stoic men just losing their composure, and especially imagining Nanami just needing relief so badly that he resorts to pillow humping?? Whew I am not ok 🥵

Featuring: GN reader || Nanami x reader

Warnings: masturbation; sex dream/wet dream; dry humping to pillow humping; cumshot; sleepy horny Nanami~

Word count: 1315

══════════════════

It was a rare morning in which you weren't by Nanami's side. Although he was usually up earlier than you, it was also his day off, and something in him prompted him to sleep in today. You were supposed to be home too, but he vaguely recalled you receiving a notice regarding support in a mission.

Nothing out of the ordinary or worrisome, just assisting some student sorcerers going out for the first time. You'd given him a quick kiss before heading out the door, and Nanami had decided to settle back into the sheets, enjoying your fleeting warmth from the fabric as he slipped back into dreamland.

Nanami expected his sleep to be dreamless; he rarely had dreams anymore, perhaps because of the things he saw in his day to day life exceeded what his mind could probably come up with. The last thing he wanted was to dream of curses. Thankfully, his subconscious seemed to be filled with thoughts of you today, seemingly already missing your presence. And his dreaming self, with its lower inhibitions and less restrained desires, gladly accepted it.

He dreamed of the way you two would have woken up together, sleepy kisses with lots of giggling in the early morning light, slowly getting deeper and more passionate with time until he was climbing over you. Wandering hands tracing the edge of muscles, pressing into fat, memorizing the shapes of each other as if you both hadn't done it before. Warm bodies would press against each other, rubbing and grinding and preparing until he could sheath himself in you and become one.

He would always start slow, ensuring you were comfortable and ready for him to move before doing anything else. And once you gave him the okay, he'd work up to a pace palatable for both of you, just taking his time to properly love you as you deserved. This kind of rare morning where you two could just take your time, was a time for love making. Don't get him wrong, he enjoyed pushing your limits too (when you asked for it), going as rough and fast as you asked of him. But this was truly his favorite, having no time limit to just taste and enjoy your body, working his hips slow and deep.

Unbeknownst to Nanami in the conscious world, his hips had started moving to the pace of his dream. He had turned onto his belly at some point in his sleep, and his cock was rock hard, precum spotting in his pajama pants and rubbing up against the mattress deliciously now. The friction simply added to his dream, and he continued, wanting to pleasure you to the best of his ability.

You were holding him now as he continued to thrust, fingers tangling in his hair the way he always loved, soft kisses covering his jaw and neck, and your sweet moans were telling him you were close. So was he, and he continued his pace, knowing the longer he drew it out, the sweeter the release would be. It was so close now, your lips moving against him, telling him you were going to cum, telling him not to stop, how close you were, and he could feel the telltale signs as you tightened around him. Just as you tipped over the edge, he moved to follow, balls tightening up in preparation and then–

Nanami's eyes blinked open slowly, vision blurry at first but quickly adjusting as he caught sight of your empty side of the bed. Your pillow was missing, but it took a moment to see that he'd dragged your pillow down into the sheets at some point, squeezed between his legs and pressed up against his cock. He took a deep breath, realizing now that it had only been a dream, that orgasm that he'd been chasing quickly fleeting. He could almost laugh at himself; he wasn't sure the last time he had ever had a wet dream, if ever. And all because he simply missed your touch.

Just thinking of you made his cock twitch, and he realized he was still hard in his pants, aching for relief. The problem with missions was that, even in simple cases, it was sometimes impossible to guess how long one would be gone, especially when it came to teaching the students. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand to check for messages, but the only thing you'd sent him was a quick update from before going in to the veil, and no sign of having come out yet.

Nanami took a moment to consider his options. He could decide to ignore his boner, opting to take a cold shower and move on with his day to complete some errands. Or, and this was the option calling to his body, he could continue with where his dream self left off, humping the pillow to completion. After all, it was already dirtied with what precum had leaked through his pants onto the material, and he knew he'd be thinking of you all day anyway. What was one more item to clean, if it meant a little more peace of mind until your return?

Finally, he settled for the latter, setting his phone down and tossing aside part of the sheets and blanket. He didn't pull his pants down, trying to keep a little of the mess contained, and pressed the pillow closer against himself. It wasn't nearly as satisfying as having you against him, but for now, it would do.

He turned onto his belly again, his cock sandwiched between the pillow and his body, and began to rut his hips one more time. He could feel the waistband of his pants rub against his sensitive head, and he changed the angle of his thrusts to chase that feeling, getting as much friction as he could.

It was harder to build up pleasure awake rather than asleep, now that he was putting his muscles to work, but he tried to remember what happened in his dream. He thought of making love to you, filling you over and over again with his love and his heat, carving his shape into your body. He thought of all the ways you showed him your love, the types of kisses you gave him and how you held him as he pleasured you. And he thought of the way you called his name when you came, how sweet the syllables sounded in your voice, like he was your personal god delivering pleasure unto you.

Eventually, his orgasm started to crest the horizon once more, and he increased his pace. He gripped his own pillow now, fucking hard against the mattress until finally, his cock throbbed hard, oozing cum slowly but surely. He let out small grunts with each throb, humping the pillow a little longer, then finally reached a hand down to squeeze out the last few drops of cum through his pants. Thankfully, his pants had mostly caught his mess, but a small stain had formed on your pillowcase, and Nanami made a mental note to wash it as soon as he could stand.

Relief filled his body and Nanami rolled over, letting his body settle down now. Pillow humping was a first for him, but you always seemed to find new facets of him as your relationship grew closer. Admittedly, it was a little embarrassing, he couldn't be entirely mad; if there was anyone he wanted to dream of, it would always be you. However, his orgasm only served to sate his lust for you, and now he just ached to have you back in his arms. Finally feeling refreshed, he quickly sent out a text to you, telling you that he hoped the mission was going well and for you to be safe on the journey home, before finally starting his day, eager for your return.

[ilwonuu]

good for me. part one | two | three

jeon wonwoo

꧔ pairing- friend!wonwoo x reader

꧔ summary- you going on a trip with your friends is something you’re beyond excited for. you can help but think of your friend in ways you shouldn’t. he’s so shy with you. you just want to ruin him. well not before he ruins you first.

꧔ warnings- friends to lovers, wonwoo is in love with reader, reader is in LOVE with wonwoo, fluffy, they are in so much love( OKAY FUCK ALREADY), sweetheart!wonwoo, little bit of crack, lmk what else

꧔ a/n- random story i came up with…others parts coming soon!! HAPPY 400 THANK YOU FOR ALL THE REQUESTS<3

a road trip to california with your closest friends. seokmin, wonwoo, and mingyu. you are beyond excited to spend time with them. you four are always together.

you love them more than anything. . waiting for mingyu to pick you up. your mind naturally fading to the pretty boy who never leaves your mind. you’re imagining how his glasses is sitting against his face. you remembering his deep voice in your ear.

“it’s good to see you.” he says giving you a quick hug. “you too wonwoo.” you smile at his touch. breathing in his scent being so close. thinking about last night’s events at mingyu’s. seeing him against the couch. laughing at something seokmin said before shifting his gaze to you. his mind thinking how beautiful you look.

he just wants to fuck you- and mingyu’s here to pick you up. pulling you out of your day dreaming. sighing quietly as you grab your bags walking to the car. you smiling at the fact you are gonna be sitting next to wonwoo for the drive. spotting seokmin in the front as you walk out to the car. getting in the car.

“our final person. we’re officially ready to go!” mingyu announces. smiling at you getting in the car. “woohoo! im so excited for the beach. let’s go!!” seokmin shouts behind mingyu’s words.

you just laugh at the two boys in the front. looking over to the boy beside you. “i’m happy your my backseat buddy.” wonwoo says smiling at you. you laugh slightly at his cheesy words. “me aswell.”

you smile back at him. mingyu and seokmin obviously noticing the exchange. not mentioning it giving eachother an amused glance.

you and wonwoo chatting and laughing over simple things during the car ride. the music low as mingyu is focused on driving and seokmin decided to nap a little bit. he is such a sweet talker.

you find yourself smiling so much more than usual. well you’re not gonna pretend he doesn’t make you feel things-. you are enjoying his company. his eyes shifting down your body as he listens to you talk.

smiling to himself thinking how pretty you are. whew this is gonna be a long trip. upon arrival to your airbnb you two we’re informed you’re going be sharing a room. it had two beds its fine. you were way more excited then you should be. he feels the same way.

not giving himself away. “you can pick which bed you want first.” he just gives you a small smile. you appreciate his kindness at letting you choose first. you pick you bed moving your stuff to the bed area. setting in changing into something more comfortable.

wonwoo exploring the kitchen of the house grabbing a drink. seokmin joining him in the kitchen momentarily. “it’s nice in here huh?” he says to wonwoo. his only response being a nod. “you okay?” seokmin asks suddenly. wonwoo just nodding slowly.

“why do i seem not okay?” seokmin shakes his head. “you and y/n are just acting..weird. like is everything alright?” wonwoo is shocked at the boldness of the situation. “don’t say- anything i just like her-“

he says quietly. loud enough for the third boy entering the room to hear. “what the- fuck did i walk into.” mingyu says chuckling slightly. “guys can you please just- shut the hell up!” wonwoo says rolling his eyes.

you finally join your friends in the kitchen. in your shorts and your bathing suit. all of the boys shifting at your sudden appearance. “what are you guys yelling about?” you laugh.

wonwoo looks at you. taking in your new appearance. “n-nothing it was stupid.” wonwoo hates that he stuttered. he wants to just pull down your shorts and eat- “so how about the beach?”

mingyu breaks the silence. you nodding quickly. “please i want to go so bad.” you’re begging for something so innocent yet wonwoo is just full of filthy thoughts. seokmin agreeing with the two of you.

“wonwoo?” your voice calling his name has his dick hard. he shook that feel away nodding. “sounds great!” he thinks he fooled you well enough. you smiling turning back to look at mingyu.

“okay then the car we go- go!” mingyu said groaning as he grabs some of the snacks you guys brought. wonwoo can’t help but think is he pervy? he feels slightly shitty. trying his best to not thirst over you. he grabs a sucker he had stored in his pocket.

opening it sucking on it as you follow him to the car. you watch as his tongue wraps around the hard candy. your thighs squeezing together as you watch him climb in the back seat of the car. you following behind shortly.

your eyes not leaving his mouth. you want him so bad. he is isn’t looking at you as you two wait for seokmin and mingyu. he looks at you suddenly. see you already looking at him. his dick constantly wanting you. “wonwoo do you have another one?” you pretend to ask looking closer at him. “sorry no i don’t-“

mingyu and seokmin arrive at the car suddenly cutting wonwoo off. “lets fucking go!” seokmin yells getting in the driver seat. “okay there better be hot people there im horny ngl..” mingyu laughs. wonwoo shaking his head. “did not need to know that” he laughs as he sees you laughing.

[katerina-marie]

Don't Go Slowly, Tell Me If You're Lonely (Series)

Chapter 5

Gojo Satoru x Reader & (Past) Geto Suguru x Reader

Your relationship with Geto Suguru came to an end somewhere between the day of his betrayal and the day of his death. Your relationship with Gojo Satoru began somewhere in the midst of it all, even without you realizing.

WC: 11.8k (whew)

Content: Canon Divergence, Gojo x Female Reader (referred to as such but left descriptively vague), (past) Geto Suguru x Female Reader, Geto's canonical death, friends to lovers, angst, eventual happy ending, fluff, reader is a sorcerer (left vague tho), no use of y/n, vaginal sex (though not super explicit) so please avoid accordingly! More notes below.

Chapter Count: Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3, Chp 4, Chp 5, Chp 6 (Final)

Notes: Peep the cw, because in case you missed it there will be 18+ content in this chapter. But warning, I do not have the talent to write explicitly detailed sex so it's more narrative/vaguely described. I applaud all authors that have that ability! Also, this is 99% fluff and vibes because that's what we all need, right?

P.S. If anyone recognizes where part of the title/included line is from.....no you don't and I'm sorry, not sorry lol

------------------------------------------

Chapter 5: Heart of None, Heart of One (Don't Be Afraid, I Feel It Too)

Neither you or Suguru were dressed for the affluence of this particular part of the city, the two of you wearing light and airy clothing to help ward off the oppressiveness of the summer sun. Names of restaurants and boutiques that you hardly recognized lined each side of the street full of ostentatious vehicles, and you couldn’t help but wonder why exactly Suguru had dragged you to a place neither of you had any real business being in. His fingers were twined through each of yours and had been since the two of you hopped off the train to begin your stroll towards a destination unknown. You weren’t sure if he was being intentionally vague with where you were going, or if Suguru had failed to think any further than necessary and inform you of your day’s plans. 

Men and their inability to consider five minutes ahead of themselves for anyone else’s sake. 

You passed a building with black bricks and golden writing emblazoning its name above the door, and you felt your mouth begin to water as you recognized that the style of the restaurant lended itself to your favorite foreign food. A certainly more upscale version of it anyway, if the valet’s podium and immaculately dressed patrons were any indication. 

“We should come here one day, Suguru,” you told him wistfully, inhaling deep the scent of rich food before it faded from your nose as your steps took you further and further away. Suguru huffed a noncommittal chuckle and gave you an incredulous look of question. 

“Sure, I’ll just swipe Satoru’s credit card when he isn’t looking and we’ll have ourselves a night out.” His voice was full of sarcastic humor and you rolled your eyes at him, because of course you were aware that your meager student allowances couldn’t afford such luxury, nor would Satoru be willing to part with his card without an invitation to join what would have been a date night for the two of you. The idea of it was fun to imagine in the least, and you filed the name of the restaurant away in the back of your mind for an unspecified day in the future somewhere. 

“So what are we doing here?” you asked, peering around the city as you both came to a crosswalk and minded the traffic currently flowing through it. “I can’t say that I have a suspicion, and I would like to enjoy the last afternoon of the weekend together if you don’t have something already planned.”

Suguru was quiet as he glanced up and down the street once the vehicles cleared the road, and he tugged at your hand to spur you into movement once the signal had been given to ensure your safe crossing.

“We are having to make a quick stop to retrieve something,” he said, intentionally avoiding your narrowed eyes by keeping himself one step ahead of you. You’d yank your arm back and hold your ground in a juvenile display of defiance at his reticence, but you didn’t favor being run over in the middle of the street, nor were you confident of your victory in strength should it be put up against his; you’d count on being pulled along no matter how hard you dug your heels in. 

“And what is it that we are retrieving?” You grew annoyed at Suguru’s reluctance to speak anymore than what was barely necessary, and now that the two of you were again on the safety of the sidewalks, you had half a mind to start testing his patience as he was doing yours. Your boyfriend must have been able to pick up on the change in your disposition, and he turned to you with a weary sigh as the two of you came to a stop. 

“Satoru called me earlier,” Suguru admitted, and your face dropped into distaste, mouth open to offer your dissent for whatever moronic task your boyfriend’s best friend has saddled the two of you with, but he shot you a warning glare that stayed your tongue. “He’s still on that assignment, but he forgot to finish up his reports for the last one and Yaga’s going to have his ass if he doesn’t turn them in first thing tomorrow. I told him we’d take care of it this once.” 

You scoffed, offended disbelief fueling your ire for the white-haired sorcerer, and you fixed your withering look on Suguru.

“You coddle him,” you hissed, promptly snatching your hand from his and marching forward on your own even though you hadn’t the faintest clue to where you were. The surrounding buildings were no longer fancy restaurants and expensive retailers but instead towering, dark-windowed monoliths with impressive double glass doors at their entrance. Still swanky, but more unassuming. 

“I’m helping,” Suguru argued, jogging up to your side to keep pace with you. “Friends do that for each other.” 

“I mean, yeah they do, but this feels more like Satoru is intentionally being lazy, unable to deign himself to possibly do his own work and would rather put it off to the less fortunate of us.” Your tone was scathing and your words mean for meanness sake, even if they held a scant bit of truth, and from the look on your boyfriend’s face he didn’t appreciate the disparaging of his best friend’s character. You supposed Satoru could now be considered your friend as well, now that nearly a year and a half had passed since you met your significant other’s “other”, but it had been slow building between you and Satoru, if not for the complete opposite personalities and upbringings you each had then for becoming accustomed to sharing Suguru. 

“Cut him some slack,” Suguru said, his expression knowing and slightly irritated, but his voice for you was softer than it was moments ago, and he brought you to a halt with a hand on your shoulder. “I’m not ignoring the fact that Satoru is not the most apt student when it comes to his paperwork or always considerate of other people’s time, but he has a full plate and even heavier burden attached to his name, so I’ll let it slide sometimes.” 

You weren’t sure if you’d agree, but you didn’t want to taint the afternoon with Suguru just because of your disdain for Satoru’s lack of planning, so you gave him a half-hearted shrug and glanced over his shoulder at the building the two of you came to a stop in front of.

“This it?” 

Suguru nodded and took your hand again to lead you through the frosted glass doors serving as the entrance. “He has an apartment here for when he wants solitude, so we’ll just pop in to grab the reports and then be on our way. We’ll stop for lunch after, how about that?” 

The noise of affirmation you made lacked enthusiasm, mostly because you had been thoroughly chastised by your boyfriend and not because you didn’t want to share a meal out with him, but Suguru was undeterred and you turned your attention to the details of the front lobby. The high walls were painted alabaster and arched over certain hallways you guessed lead to various amenities. The slightly darker beige floors gleamed under rich lighting, leaving the forest green and muted mahogany fabrics of plush looking couches and other luxe decor to stand out in their superiority. You and Suguru continued through an archway and came upon an older man situated at a stately wood desk sandwiched between floor-to-ceiling glass doors that prohibited your entrance. You bristled at the idea of having to convince someone to allow you through to somewhere the two of you didn’t look to belong, or worse, have to stand by the desk as other residents came and went while Suguru beckoned Satoru to pick up his phone and petition you two through. However, to your shock, Suguru simply smiled and waved at the gentleman—who returned his greeting in kind—and he had the glass doors sliding open with a touch of a button just in time for the two of you to walk through them.

“A silver spoon Satoru does use,” you commented wryly. The two of you stepped into an open elevator, and you were pleased to see a stifled grin on Suguru’s face. 

“That I won’t deny,” he said, pressing the button for an obnoxiously high floor. You chattered between yourselves about lunch options and other plans for the rest of the day whilst traveling up, and your arrival to Satoru’s floor was announced with a pleasant trilling of a bell. As you walked down a hallway, you took notice of the distance between the doors of each dwelling, marking the considerable size of each one. Suguru came to a stop at the very end of the hall and pressed a series of numbers into a shiny keypad before motioning you through the now opened door. 

Satoru’s apartment was as beautiful as you imagined, with its sprawling living area and enormous windows the first thing to appear after making it through the entrance, and then an extensive gourmet kitchen was located on the left. There were a couple other hallways you assumed lead to various rooms, and you had a thought to explore (snoop) when you felt a hand at your back.

“Satoru should have some sweets in his fridge,” Suguru said, dropping a brief kiss at your temple and then another at your cheek as he brushed by you. “I’m going to his office right quick if you want to help yourself. It’s the least he can offer.” 

That brought a grin to your face, and you immediately turned towards the kitchen as Suguru’s footsteps faded in the opposite direction. Satoru’s fridge was nearly twice your height and the stainless steel was polished so perfectly that you could nearly see your reflection in it. It was all so grandiose, but the excitement immediately abated when you opened the fridge and saw nothing but a couple bags of sweets and water bottles taking up a minute amount of its expansive capacity. You grabbed one of each and brought them to the large island across from the fridge and tucked into your snack. As you munched, you let your eyes drift from space to space, everything meticulously placed and artfully decorated. Though you couldn’t help but notice the absence of anything that made it personal. There were no photos or cookbooks or trinkets of any kind. The copious amounts of furnishings and state of the art appliances all made up an impressive looking home anyone would be thrilled to make use of, but there was not one sign of usage or life that would indicate that Satoru did anything of the sort. The thought humbled your opinion of him a touch, and the quiet melancholy of his apartment made the sweet in your mouth taste oddly of cardboard.

How lonely. 

Now, years later, as you marveled up at the building that scraped the sky, you wondered if Satoru was sitting in the quiet of his apartment cutting a lonesome figure and feeling as such. 

You had taken most of the morning to scour the school grounds in pursuit of him, but no evidence had turned up to support his stay there. Megumi had confirmed it when you ran into him in your frenzied search and mentioned that Satoru had texted him to cancel their end-of-week training because he’d be off campus. The thought of having to transport yourself all the way to that part of the city where his apartment was located felt daunting in your exhaustion, but when you closed your eyes or let your mind wander, the images of Suguru and Satoru walking away from you after turning their backs superimposed over each other and sent a new wave of panic over you every time. 

So you cleaned yourself up the best you could in the least amount of time you were willing to give, and then set out on a train. After that, the walk from the station to his apartment was about ten minutes, but you had only been there once, and you had started to worry when recognition of the area still hadn’t struck. You were only half certain you had found the correct building until you made your way inside the lobby and found familiarity in the arch of the walls and luxuriousness of the furnishings. Ahead, still seated at the same wooden desk, was the gentleman from the one time you had visited with Suguru. Age had greyed his hair and added lines under his eyes, but you recognized him the same. As you walked up to his desk with a nervous smile, you hoped you looked more put together than you felt, and you had just opened your mouth to try and convince him to let you up when he grinned at you. 

“For Gojo, right?” 

You were taken aback at the friendliness in his voice and the expectant way he looked up at you from where he was seated, and you were sure your mouth had flopped open inelegantly. “Uh, yes, but how did you—,” 

“Years ago, he left me a photo of you and a man with black hair and explicit instructions to let either of you up at any time without questions asked.” The gentleman glanced down at his desk and you could just make out his hand scribbling at a large notepad. When he looked back up at you, his gaze was inquisitive. “I just barely remember you from the one time you came with him—the boy appeared often enough that I recognized him—but I haven’t seen either of you since.” There wasn’t any judgment in his voice, just simple observation, but the whole encounter was picking at the fraying threads of your already frail emotions. 

“Yes,” you bit out, swallowing to clear the hoarseness of your voice, “it’s certainly been, uhm, a long time and…” There wasn’t anything you could come up with to fit into a brief enough explanation, and thankfully the gentleman picked up on that fact. 

“Would you like me to call up to him and let him know you’re here?” He offered, his hand already drifting towards a phone on the edge of his desk. You shook your head and flailed your hands in an effort to dissuade him from doing so. 

“No, no, please. I’m…surprising him.”  

The man smiled gently and gestured with his head towards the glass doors as he opened them with a push of a button. “Off you go then.” 

You gave him a hurried thanks and rushed off through the doors before you could lose what little courage remained in you, and when the elevator shut just after you stepped through it, you leaned back against the wall of it to take in large mouthfuls of air. Satoru was definitely home, and you maybe had two minutes to compose yourself into something presentable before you were face to face with him. You took it as a positive sign that he hadn’t immediately revoked your extended invitation into his building (unless he had simply forgotten to and now you had another idea to fret at) and you hoped that when you knocked at his door he would neither ignore you entirely or answer and then proceed to slam it shut in your face. If you made it far enough that he welcomed you in, you had absolutely no idea what you were to say to him, and the pinging of the elevator bell signaling your arrival to his floor made it clear you were running out of time to come up with anything. 

Your steps on the tile echoed loudly in the empty hallway, and you were positive it was your tired mind that made them sound reminiscent of Satoru’s name. By the time you came to his door, it was ringing in your ears and beating to the same rhythm of your pulse, and you wondered if Satoru could hear it from wherever in his apartment he remained hidden from you. The stress of it had you wanting to linger outside to come up with a speech or some kind of plan before you knocked on his door, but the thought that he could sense you waiting—hesitating—drove you deeper into embarrassment, so you lifted your hand to knock your knuckles against the door without a second consideration. The time it took for him to answer left your thoughts to scramble. 

Would he look at you with the same anger he surely saw reflected in your own eyes just hours prior? You figured you both had a right to feel such a way, but whereas you had hurled word after word of condemnation at him without ceasing, regardless of their truth or lack thereof, he hadn’t been given a moment to offer scant more than a stuttered reply. Was it presumptuous to have the hope that he would repay you in kind? That he would offer what you hadn’t and listen to what you had to say? Never again did you want to live with the regret of last words unspoken.

The beeping of his door unlocking snagged your attention, and you inhaled sharply when the knob began to turn. Through a small crack in the door, you saw Satoru peer his head around it, just offering you a sliver of a singular blue eye and the glimpse of a closed off expression on his face. You tangled your fingers together in the hope he didn’t see them shaking, and you gave him the barest of contrite smiles.

“May I come in?” 

Satoru didn’t hesitate to give a single nod of his head and you took a step back when he pushed open the door wide enough for you to walk through, murmuring a small ‘thank you’ as you passed by him. You didn’t wait for him to continue further into his apartment, eager to get out of the small entryway and into the openness of his living space if only so you could feel slightly less confined. In a quick glance around, you noticed that Satoru’s apartment looked nearly identical to how it did the one and only time you visited it. There was still a museum-esque quality to the cleanliness of it, but you could see a half-full glass of water on the island in his kitchen, and you had spied his pair of black shoes by the door next to where you had toed yours off. 

The susurration of his house shoes on the wood floor could be heard coming up behind you, and you turned slowly to face him. You took in his casual clothes, a dark grey sweater and navy lounge pants, and noticed him doing the same to your similar but more feminine outfit. When your eyes met, it pained you to see how his were guarded, lacking their usual brightness and enthusiasm, and you knew it was somewhat your fault. 

“I should have let you talk more,” you blurted, head cleared of any logical thought. “I was within my right to be angry with you, but I should have heard you out, and I’m sorry I didn’t.” 

Satoru’s expression eased and you wrung your hands. “I want to respect your space. I’m willing to give that to you, but I’m afraid of leaving things unsaid and—,” 

You were horrified when your eyes began to sting and the inside of your nose burned. You flicked your focus down to the floor in the hopes that not looking at him would keep you composed enough to get the rest of your words out. “If you’re willing, I’d like to talk this out with you. I would hate for things to end the way they did.” 

When you looked back up at him, his eyes were wide, and Satoru shuffled forward to reach a hand out to press against the back of your arm. “Of course,” he said, his voice so emphatically eager that it panged your heart. “Of course I’ll listen to you.” 

The pressure of his hand guided you towards the ample seating in his living room, and the two of you made yourselves comfortable on the sofa placed in front of a massive entertainment system. Satoru sat just far away enough that two of you wouldn’t touch, but he laid out his arm along the back of the sofa, turned on his hip, and leaned forward slightly on his thigh so he could face you. You mirrored his position but kept your hands in your lap. 

“I don’t hate you. I never could,” you breathed out, and a part of you died inside when relief slackened Satoru’s features and his shoulders lowered as tension bled out from them. “I was angry, and maybe even felt a little betrayed, but it wasn’t you I hated.” 

There must have been a stricken look on your face, because his hand that rested on the back of the sofa lifted and hovered in the air for a moment before he moved it close enough that he could just graze his fingertips along the top of your arm. 

“I think I hated him. I hated Suguru in that split second.” The words felt heavy and disjointed in your mouth, not quite understood by your brain, but you felt palpable liberation once they were out. Satoru kept his eyes on you attentively, and you were powerless to the words that spilled from your tongue. 

“I hated him for what he did. I hated that he left me, and I hated that he chose to speak with you one last time instead of me. I hated that you had to kill him, and that we have to wake up everyday to live in the aftermath of it.” You were interrupted by a hiccuping cry that forced its way through your teeth, and when you looked up at Satoru helplessly, his hands shot out to take yours into his own. 

“But not you, I would never hate you,” you said once you had regained your composure, “and I would like to hear what you have to say. To help me understand what you were going through and why you made the choice to keep what Suguru said a secret until now. I’d like us to be completely understanding of the other, with the intention of being able to move forward.” 

Feeling much like you had just finished a sprint, you drew in a few deep breaths to steady the racing of your heart and calm the adrenaline running through your body. Satoru didn’t look angry or upset. He had an open, albeit cautious, look on his face and he studied your hands in his grasp momentarily before gently releasing them, and you both withdrew your hands to let them rest on your respective laps. 

“It was panic,” he started, pausing to meet your eyes. “I was so panicked that evening, about what I had just done and how I was supposed to reveal that to you. I could barely think straight enough to tell you I killed him, and I couldn’t stomach the idea of having to relay to you what Suguru said when I could hardly make sense of it myself.” 

You watched Satoru closely as he wiped his hands down over his legs and you both heard and felt the stuttered breath he pushed out from deep in his chest.

 “I’m not saying that to excuse my behavior, but it felt like the easiest thing to do for myself at that moment, and I regret it. If I could go back…well, I don’t actually know what I would have done.” Satoru inched a little closer to you and raised a questioning brow. “Would you have been okay if I had told you that he had said something, but couldn’t yet share it with you? Would have it been better to tell you everything he said, but warned you that I didn’t have the capacity to explore the implications of it right then with you? Or—god—I should have told you at any point between then and now.” 

The ideas Satoru was presenting caught you by surprise. You hadn’t ever really considered before what you had wanted to hear in the moments when your entire world was collapsing around you. Surely you would have wanted to know, but the anticipation of waiting to hear what those words would have been had you chosen the first option probably would have driven you to madness. In regards to the second, knowing what Suguru had said would have prevented the whole mess the two of you were in now. However, knowing yourself, you very well might have fled the school like you did to avoid discussing things with Satoru once he was ready, keen on never once touching such a topic for the rest of your life, and who knows what outcome would have resulted from that. And him revealing what Suguru said any time after that day and between now would have mostly likely played out the same way it did last night.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly, and you couldn’t help but let out a tired laugh. “Either alternative has its merits and its corresponding negatives. In the future, I think open communication would be best, but for things past I don’t see much point in dwelling on what should have been.” 

Satoru nodded, seemingly agreeing with what you had said. You chewed your lip, considering the weight of the question you wanted to ask him before ultimately deciding that he deserved the chance to let himself be heard. 

“How have you been?” Your inquiry had his mouth opening to respond, but he was silent in the aftermath, and you assumed that he needed time to condense his thoughts into words. 

You empathized with that particular plight.  

“Tired,” he said finally, solemnly, and you moved closer towards him until your knees knocked against each other. “I would give anything to have a night’s rest where I didn’t dream about killing my best friend.” This time, you reached out your hand to grip his fingers in yours, and his answering smile was full of gratitude. “Or have a nightmare where you hate me,” he added, squeezing your hand to balm the sting of his words. 

The two of you were silent after that, each of you taking turns glancing at one another and then back at your tangled hands before focusing on anywhere else in the room. However, there was a collective sense of expectation hanging above you both, and you had a good idea of what topic was waiting to be broached. 

“Satoru,” you murmured, biting down on the inside of your cheek as he lifted his head to listen to you. There was trepidation in the way he held himself, and you wondered if he anticipated what you were going to say next. “I tried to kiss you.” 

He was rapt in his attention on you, his face giving away nothing as to what he was feeling, but he fiddled with your fingers and ran his thumb along the inside of your wrist. He ducked his head just barely, and when his hair shifted over his forehead, it was just enough to conceal his eyes from you. “You did.” 

Satoru’s evasion grated you, but you set aside your frustration to focus on what you were trying to convey to him, to get him to understand what you couldn’t even quite wrap your head around fully. 

“I don’t want you to feel obligated to me because of what Suguru said.” His head snapped up and his brows furrowed at your words, but you kept going before he had a chance to interrupt. “I think you probably have an idea about what I feel for you, but I don’t expect you to reciprocate just because you might have some misguided sense of duty or responsibility towards me, and I can forget about that near-kiss if that’s—,” 

“I want you,” Satoru said on a exhale, and he looked to be fighting a bashful grin that pulled at the corners of his mouth. Your noise of surprise filled the heady silence following his declaration, and you felt as though the two of you teetered on the edge of some great precipice. 

A quiet “oh,” was all you could get out, breathless in a mounting giddiness, and he chuckled at whatever flush warmed your cheeks before his features smoothed out into something more solemn. 

“I do,” he insisted, and you could sense the ‘but’ following his statement and it made all the butterflies that had erupted in your chest fall leadened into your stomach, “but I can’t help feeling a little…unsettled about it, maybe? Not in a bad way necessarily, never with you—,” 

Satoru stammered, an overwhelmed breath heaving his shoulders, and you watched him with a pang of sympathy as he struggled to grasp at the words clearly evading him. “I don’t want you to think I feel entitled to you, and I don’t feel like I’m betraying Suguru by wanting you. I don’t even think I need his permission or anything like that. In fact, he seemed to give it in his own twisted way that night, and it’s just…you were his, once, and now you’re…” 

He trailed off, at a loss for the proper words to adequately explain a concept you both seemed to wrestle with, and the look he gave you was helpless and beseeching in a way that was delightfully captivating to you: eyes wide, lips slightly parted, and if his gaze could be anymore adoring you’d melt into the fabric of his fine linen couch. 

What was previously off limits had become an alluring possibility. A person who had always occupied a strictly friendly role had begun to appear in a way not thought of before. It was overwhelming, exciting, terrifying in what it could mean to want someone who had once been unobtainable, who you had not once considered for yourself before the loss of someone precious to both of you. But Suguru was gone now, and what more could be owed to the two of you than indulging in a shared happiness?

You giggled, catching your bottom lip between your teeth to try and contain the smile that was surely about to overtake your face, and you tugged on Satoru’s hands to pull him in close to you. 

“Don’t be afraid,” you whispered, your voice light and playful while the blue of his eyes danced and his cheeks went round in elation, “I feel it too.” 

————————————————

Later, as you contemplated your existence in the quiet sanctuary of your room, you would berate yourself for not taking the opportunity to kiss Satoru senseless. Alas, you had remained dutiful to your mutual agreement to let the enormity of the morning settle before getting carried away with frenzied touches and the mingling of panted breaths. Instead, the two of you stayed seated on his couch for another hour, close in the way you had both drifted to lean against the other while chatting idly about anything ordinary. 

You had taken moments to gently lift strands of hair from his eyes, goosebumps erupting over your skin when his focus couldn’t decide whether to fix on your face or follow the movement of your hand. When you had later regaled him with a forgotten tale from your time abroad, Satoru had spent his time listening by swirling a finger over the top of your kneecap before letting it drift just slightly over your thigh so he could squeeze it gently. The pressure had you stuttering over your words, and you used the increased need to jump from your skin as an excuse to leap from the couch and beg for a glass of water. Satoru smirked at you in that annoyingly smug, but persistently charming habit of his, and had simply sauntered off to his kitchen to leave you to follow in his wake. 

When the afternoon sun began to push shadows further into the depths of his apartment, you begrudgingly announced your intended departure, pointing out to Satoru the exhaustion that clung to you both when he began to protest. A much-needed nap was in order, and he only surrendered his disagreement when you let out an exaggerated yawn. He followed you to the door with your sleeve caught between two of his fingers. The two of you stared at each other after you had slipped on your shoes, neither quite ready to bid the first goodbye. You eventually took the initiative to rock onto the tips of your toes and wrap your arms around his neck, resting your cheek on his shoulder as you squeezed him to you. Satoru arms circled your waist and after nudging his nose against the top of your head, you heard him breathe in deeply before letting it out in a long exhale, and the yearning of it made you ache. 

You had to pry yourself from him, and you didn’t turn to look back as you walked down the hallway lest you lose any remaining self control and skip your way back to Satoru. It was only once you crossed the threshold of the elevator that you heard the click of his door closing shut. If you had a dopey look on your face as you made your way home, evidenced by the knowing grin on the mouth of the gentleman working the door in the lobby, then who were you to deny it?

As you lay in your bed, huddled under blankets and your head cushioned by pillows while waiting for the swiftness of sleep to weigh down your eyes, you stared at a couple of pictures now decorating a small cork board hanging above your desk. None of them contained a singular person more present than the others and were all full of various friends and toothy grins. For once, the appearance of black hair and pierced ears didn’t evoke a dull throb in your chest at a future lost, but instead welcomed a feeling of contented nostalgia for memories treasured. When your eyes started to flutter and you sensed that your battle against sleep was coming to an end, the sight of brilliant blue from the corner of one photo held your fading attention and beckoned the prospect of enduring happiness by a relationship newly minted. 

————————————————

A dreary midmorning wasn’t something that could keep you cooped up on a Saturday free of obligation, and in an endeavor to make the most of your spare time, you busied yourself with errands in the city. If you found yourself standing in line outside the building of your favorite sweet shop, you would insist it was only to fill your own belly. Any extras that made it into your bag would surely serve as a snack over the rest of the weekend and not linger in your room in the hopes a certain white-haired man would make an appearance and find them. 

The thought of Satoru had you reaching for your phone as you shuffled another step further in line. You had texted Satoru a simple ‘good morning’ right before leaving your room then promptly threw the device into the bottom of your bag to be forgotten until after your errands. Otherwise, you would have worried yourself beyond what was considered healthy about whether or not that message presumed too much in light of yesterday’s breakthrough. 

Maybe overkill would lend itself to your passions too. 

To your dismay, your phone remained disappointingly devoid of new messages, but the sudden appearance of small raindrops on your screen took your attention before you could waste more time wishing it would flash with Satoru’s name. While the sky looked quite grey in your perusal of it, the drops never fell faster or increased in size while you waited for your turn to step into the shop, and you hoped the weather would stay its course until you returned home. Because you, in your distraction, had forgotten to snag your umbrella as you scurried out the door that morning. Instead of dwelling on your possible misfortune, you gave a cursory glance at the shop’s menu board sitting by the door and when you were nearly halfway through reading it, a shadow came over you. 

“Dessert for breakfast again?” 

You jerked your head towards the familiar voice and came face to face with Satoru. He hovered close enough to you so that the large umbrella he carried could shelter both him and yourself from the faint pattering of rain, and you met his beaming smile with one of your own. 

“Satoru! What are you doing here?” His arrival wasn’t at all expected, but you drank in the sight of him no less, pleased to see him in casual clothes instead of his uniform and sporting a black coat to ward off the last of the morning chill. 

“You know, just out and about,” he offered, and mischievousness made the corners of his mouth twitch. You suspected his eyes would twinkle just the same if you could see them through his blindfold. 

“Right,” you drew out, not quite sure if you believed that he just so happened upon you by chance, but you were too preoccupied with the fact he was standing in front of you again to question it any further. “Are you busy? Or do you have time to join me?” 

He was quick to nod, and you reached out to wrap your hand around his bicep when someone cleared their throat pointedly from behind. You jolted, heat flushing your neck and cheeks when you realized that there was a large gap in between you and the door to the shop, and you scurried forward. Satoru beat you to the door, swinging it open for you before you had a chance, and you ducked in while he sat his umbrella off to the side. 

You came to a stop a reasonable distance from the person in front of you and crossed your arms with a small huff as you pretended to study the variety of different sweets sitting in their display cases. Satoru’s coat brushed against your back as he came up behind you, and you prayed he didn’t notice the shiver that shook your shoulders when he leaned down to whisper right by your ear. 

“Distracted?” he asked, voice deeply flirtatious, and a scent a bit spicier than the mild soap you recall him smelling of wafted to your nose and made your thoughts hazy. 

“Nope,” you said as casually as you could manage, trying your best to make a mental note of what options you wanted to order so that you didn’t look like a bumbling fool when it was your turn. His answering chuckle was not only heard, but felt against your back. 

“You sure about that?” 

You whipped your head to the side to glare at him out of the corner of your eye, and your cheek nearly made contact with the tip of his nose. “Positive.” 

There would never be any certainty with his eyes hidden, but you swore you could feel his gaze on your lips, and if you ignored the thought and turned your attention back to what was in front of you, it was only because there was nothing you could do about it in a crowded little sweets shop. 

Thankfully—begrudgingly—it was your turn to order, and you stepped away from Satoru and approached the counter while taking in a much needed deep breath. He didn’t stray far from you, however, and you were conscious of how he lingered at your side while you ordered a couple things for yourself and one or two for Nanami in exchange for the few times he had bought you something from the bakery. 

You were just about to pay for your portion when Satoru came up and bumped you aside with his hip and a smirk on his face, and you watched with mild horror as the employee set down a bag of sweets nearly bulging in its fullness. 

“You have a problem,” you commented warily, imagining the amount of sugar in that bag alone and feeling phantom pain in your teeth. You eyed Satoru as he placed down his card to pay for both orders. 

“If you say so.” His shrug was light hearted and drenched in boyish charm, and you shook your head at him. Before he could find any more opportunities to indulge random acts of chivalry, you swiped your bag off the counter and made haste for the exit, pausing only to throw a wink over your shoulder as you stepped outside the door. You barely caught his indignant protest as he finished up his transaction but paid it no mind as you bent down to grab his umbrella and trotted off down the sidewalk. You only made it to a cross walk a couple yards down and had to come to a stop before he was jogging up to your side. 

“Rude,” Satoru pouted, sidling up next to you to slip the opened umbrella from your hand. 

“I can’t let people think I willingly associate myself with someone who has the taste buds of a child.” You giggled and snuck your hand in the slim space between his side and his arm to curl your fingers into the crook of his elbow. Something fluttered pleasantly in your belly when the action softened the deepening frown on his face. 

“Not all of us can have such sophisticated palettes,” he grumbled, but you could see the hint of a smile on his cheeks, so you leaned just a little further into his side. The delicate kiss he dropped onto your temple had you choking down any retort you were prepared to give him back, and the two of you stood in shy silence until the traffic signal changed in your favor. 

“Follow me to the school?” you asked, already in motion by the time the words left your mouth, and the answering look Satoru gave you made it clear that he never intended anything else. 

————————————————

Twenty minutes later had the two of you back at the school and seated on Satoru’s coat under the large tree nestled in the corner of the campus training grounds.

“Leave my bag alone,” you hissed, slapping at the wandering hand Satoru kept trying to sneak into your own stash of sweets. 

“I wanted to try one of yours. They’re different,” he whined. He stretched over your lap in an attempt to grab said bag from where you had moved it to your other side, but you stopped his progress with a hand on his chest. You pushed back against him until he was seated again. 

“No, what’s left are mine and the ones I bought for Nanami.”

“Nanami?” he asked in offended disbelief. “And you didn’t think to get any for me?”

“I’m surprised they aren’t already in your bag, Satoru. I think you bought the whole store,” you said, feeling a little sick to your stomach when you took note of the dwindling size of his own purchase. He scoffed in disapproval and hunched down further against the tree the two of you were resting against. His antics had your eyes rolling, but you went ahead and pulled one of your treats out from the bag as you had intended to do before he decided to try and pilfer them on his own. 

“Here,” you told him, feigning the exasperation in your voice. You held the treat out in your hand, expecting him to take it from you with his own, but Satoru—with uncovered eyes gleaming—leaned forward and ate the snack right from your fingers. You had a brief second to register the heat of his lips and the way his teeth had just grazed your skin before he was sitting back with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. 

“Tasty,” he said, looking all too pleased with himself, and all you could do was sit there with your heart pounding. The thought of kissing Satoru had been plaguing your mind since even before the two of you had fought, and now, when his lips were flushed pink and there were crystals of sugar caught on a corner of them, you were weak in your resolve. 

You curled your fingers into the neck of his shirt and pulled him in to meet you, eyes already closing so you didn’t scare yourself out of the idea if there was a shocked look on his face. Your lips met his with an urgency, but you were mindful not to clash teeth or press too hard, and you felt marginally better when Satoru knocked his nose against yours in order to tilt his head and deepen the kiss. His chilled fingertips were a shock to your skin when they settled on the edge of your cheek and under your jaw, and he hummed pleasantly into the kiss when he felt you jump. Satoru’s other arm came to wrap around your back, and his fingers dug into your shirt when you used the tip of your tongue to swipe away any remaining sugar on his lips. 

You were vaguely aware of Satoru pressing closer to you, inching you back incrementally, but you were too lost in the feel of his mouth moving against yours and slipping your arms up and around his neck to pay much mind to it. So when you felt yourself falling back against the ground with Satoru’s hand bracing the back of your head it didn’t trigger the urge to stop, especially not when his free hand landed heavily in the dirt next to your head so he could lower himself down and chase after your lips. However, you could only avoid the cold wet of the ground seeping through your collar for so long, not to mention the fact you two were in public, and you ducked your chin slightly to break away from Satoru. 

“It’s unlikely,” you murmured, feeling him trail his mouth over your cheek to press a kiss just below your ear, “but any of our students—or our peers—could walk by at any given moment.” 

The noise of disagreement he made tickled the skin under your ear that he was nibbling at, but you didn’t have to tell him twice before he was pulling away just hair. All you could see above you was white eyelashes framing bright blue eyes, and the tips of his hair tickled your forehead when Satoru lowered himself just a little so he could nudge his nose into your cheek affectionately. 

“You’re not wrong,” he sighed, sitting himself back up and tugging you along with him by your arm. You pat down your hair and brush some dirt from your sleeves while keeping a watchful eye on his expression from your peripheral. Satoru didn’t seem particularly disappointed or upset at your words, but you, in your habit, worried about the implication of them anyway. 

“I’m not embarrassed,” you reassured him, drawing his focus as you hurried to get your thoughts out to him. “I’m not ashamed to be seen with you either, but this is…” you trailed off as words failed you. 

This was new and something precious to you. For the first time in years, you had someone by your side that cared to know everything you thought and longed to be near you. It was all a touch overwhelming to fall for someone you hadn’t ever pictured in a romantic role, and you were eager for the time to understand it fully yourself before allowing others to fix their attention on it. 

“Don’t worry,” Satoru said, and he was cheerful and giddy in the way he smiled while he dragged a finger across the back of your hand. “I feel it too.” 

————————————————

Your burgeoning relationship carried on in secrecy for the next three months. In between classes and training of students, you and Satoru would find yourselves in an obscure hallway or forgotten classroom to share whispers and fleeting touches. It was nothing torrid or salacious as of yet, but everyday you longed for the moments you had alone with him to bask in muffled laughter and give in to lingering kisses that he would pull you into when you would try to leave for the umpteenth time. More than once you caught his head following you as he and the students walked by you on school grounds, and the previous week Kugisaki had commented on how keenly you studied Satoru while he demonstrated a fighting technique to Itadori. 

And now, when the school day was long over and the sun was beginning to set, you felt at ease walking through the door of Satoru’s office door to surprise him with spoils from your day. 

“Knock, knock,” you called out gently, peeking your head around the doorframe to find Satoru already looking up at you, blindfold nowhere to be seen. Fatigue clearly was gnawing at him. His head dropped from where his chin was propped up in his hand, and there was the faintest hint of purple under his eyes. A pen was clasped in his right hand where it rested on a large stack of paperwork, and you took notes of the various others crowding his desk as you walked in. “How are all the reports coming along?” 

Satoru groaned and threw himself back against his chair. “It’s been terrible! I’ve been stuck here finishing these reports since this morning. I didn’t even have lunch!” 

You laughed at his plight as you came to stand next to him and lean back against his desk before pulling a small brown sack from your bag. “Here,” you said, passing it to him, “I got you something while we were out today.” 

His face lit up in excitement ,and he eagerly snatched the bag from your grasp and buried his hand in it to pull out the pastry located inside. “You’re incredible,” he said, pausing to express his gratitude before he shoved half of it into his mouth. 

“You’ll choke one day,” you warned, vaguely impressed when he ate the other half in just as big of a bite. Satoru shook his head, and his grin told you he was proud of himself. 

“Was that from our bakery?” he asked, and you were grateful he had swallowed before speaking. 

“Yup. The first years did so well in training today that Nanami and I decided to end things early and treat them. We ended up running into the third years on the way, so they joined us and we all had a happy time together.” Satoru’s face fell somewhere in the beginning when you started talking, and by the time you were done his mouth was turned down into a full blown frown. 

“Without me?” He pouted, and the sad, puppy-esque face he gave you would have worked if you didn’t know what would be awaiting you if he didn’t finish his reports. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” you tutted, shaking a finger at him, “you needed to get these done, or else it would have been me taking over the extras and then we would both be miserable.” Satoru scowled, but the sigh he let out was resigned. 

“You’re not wrong.” 

You reached out and ruffled his hair. “Of course I’m not,” you teased, “but I brought you a treat to make up for it.” 

Satoru cocked a brow and stood from his chair so he could take a step towards you. Your lower back was already pressed into the edge of his desk, so you had to crane your head back to meet his eyes. “That’s true,” he said playfully. “You do make everything better.” He closed the space between your chests and the audible hitch in your breathing made him smirk. 

“Cheesy,” you muttered, but exhilaration flowed through you when his hands came up to cradle your jaw and he lowered his head enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your nose. Satoru hummed an amused sound before finally taking your bottom lip between his. You tucked your arms below his so you could fist your hands into the fabric of his uniform as his sides and a fluttering burst into your chest when he started stroking the apples of your cheeks with his thumbs.

It wasn’t wrong to say that Satoru had transfixed you. Everything about him—the way he smelled, the depth of his laugh, how his fingers felt when they danced over your skin—was alluring to you, and you couldn’t help but clutch him closer as your lips moved against his. In response, Satoru’s hands dropped down to grip at your waist, and you let out a noise of surprise in the brief moment your lips disconnected when he lifted you up, only to set you back down on his desk. He was quick to kiss you again, chasing you when you leaned back to make space for him in between your legs.

His hands seemed like they were everywhere at once: between your shoulders to press you into him, cupping your chin to angle it up and allow his lips to ghost over your neck, and then spread over your thighs to grasp and knead. The room was quiet except for the heady exhalations and gasping breaths of the air you shared, and you heard the rustling of paper being scattered as he cleared a spot behind you. 

Somewhere deep in your mind, your brain supplied you with the thought that Satoru’s office was not the ideal first place to do this—to have him. Certainly not as his hand started to sneak under the bottom of your shirt or your fingers toyed with the button on his pants, but every inch of him was plied against you and it would take something monumental to separate—,

“Ahem.” 

As it turned out, your principal clearing his throat outside of the wide open door of Satoru’s office was catastrophic enough for the two of you to spring apart at something close to the speed of light. You propelled yourself off Satoru’s desk to stand rigid at the side of it while turning your head to gawk accusingly at him, because surely the honored one should have sensed Principal Yaga way before he ever arrived. But from the way he immediately dropped straight into his chair to conceal himself from the waist down proved that, astonishingly, Gojo Satoru could be caught unaware. 

 Neither of you three said a word. Principal Yaga eyed you and Satoru with his arms crossed and brow furrowed, and you couldn’t decide whether hurling yourself out of the window behind you would be less painful than the scrutiny coming from the large man at the door. 

“There’s paperwork for this. You two can each get a copy from my office tomorrow,” he said eventually. You were relieved to hear a lack of judgment or disappointment in your principal’s voice and decided you could live with the resigned finality that colored instead. He didn’t offer anything else and had just begun to turn away with a shake of his head and a hand rubbing at his temple when he spun back around suddenly, making you flinch from where you were still rooted next to Satoru’s desk. 

“I want those reports finished and on my desk first thing in the morning, Satoru.” His tone brokered no discussion and—in all the time you’ve known him—you witnessed the loud-mouthed sorcerer at an apparent loss for words. He simply nodded in agreement and then Principal Yaga was gone. 

“Well,” Satoru started slowly, turning to face you in his chair, “I think that makes things official.” His mouth then tilted upwards into an unbothered grin, and he looked at you expectantly. Strained laughter died in your throat. 

“I guess so.” 

————————————————

In an effort to help make up for last week’s incident , Satoru called you midway through the Friday afternoon to, not ask, but summon you for a late night dinner date. In exchange, you got to pick where the two of you would eat and what dessert you would share at the end. It had taken little to no convincing on your part to get you to agree, and when the name of a restaurant in the upscale part of the city near his apartment slipped from your mouth, you were surprised to find that no guilt came along with it. 

Once upon a time, you might have wistfully imagined yourself seated and dined at that particular restaurant with Suguru, as you had told him when the two of you first passed it on the street. However, that daydream never came to fruition, and you refused to let a faded prospect with your long-lost ex-lover get in the way of creating new memories. So, in order to do just that, you took time getting yourself ready and slipped into a new dress before taking a train to the city to meet Satoru. 

The restaurant was everything you expected, and you took in with a small smile the low light atmosphere and your secluded table illuminated with flickering white candles. Waiters bustled to and fro, and the soft plinking of a lounge piano underscored the muffled murmurings of the restaurant’s patrons. You and Satoru talked about anything and nothing as you looked over the menu. The establishment wasn’t overabundant in the options it provided, instead taking great care to provide a few exceptionally well crafted meals, but you still had a difficult time making your decision nonetheless. Satoru offered to select one of the two dishes you went back and forth between for himself so you’d have the opportunity to try it, and while the idea melted your heart into a little puddle, you urged him to pick what he wanted for himself. 

A waiter came by and presented you with an extensive wine list, and while Satoru didn’t partake, he guessed with unbridled enthusiasm at which type you’d choose. His answer had been wrong, but the determined gleam in his eyes told you he’d never again make that mistake. After eventually making up your mind and successfully placing your order, the rest of the dinner flew by. The two of you spent time exchanging bites of each other’s food and sharing stories about the progress of the first year’s training. 

When you were brought the dessert menu, you both leaned over the table towards each other to look over it together, and when the two of you couldn’t decide on just one, you suggested ordering two. Satoru had raised a brow at you, having already heard twice by then how you were too full to have your own dessert and, despite his protest, insisted on sharing one with him. He relented, and you ordered two. When the waiter was out of earshot, you told him in a pointed few words that you had every intention of sharing that second dessert with him as a middle of the night snack. Satoru immediately sat straight in his seat, eyes flashing with heat and want and a whole other amalgamation of emotions that set your blood alight. 

By the time dessert came, you were two minutes shy of snatching the check and hauling him out the door, sweets be damned. But Satoru simply laughed and passed you a spoon while he situated the plate of dessert halfway between you two. When you were two bites in, stomach protesting and your eyes feeling just a bit heavy from the dimness of the restaurant, you tucked your foot under Satoru’s to rest it against his ankle. His answering smile was tender and maybe a little bashful, and while it could’ve been the second glass of wine that caused the stirring in your chest, you wouldn’t have been surprised if it was your heart expanding enough to make room for him. 

————————————————

“I want to go there again next week,” you said blissfully, both satisfied from a delicious dinner and feeling relief from the cold floors of Satoru’s apartment on your sore feet. If you never again picked up the heels you had kicked off at his door, it would be too soon. You meandered into his kitchen and plucked a water bottle from his fridge to down in just a few swallows. 

“I suppose we could go back once a week until we finish trying every dessert and dinner option available,” Satoru responded, coming up behind you to curl one arm around your waist and press a kiss into your hair. “Thank you for being my date.” You lifted your arm to reach behind you and drape it around his neck, and he let his mouth glide across the skin that he could touch. 

“Always,” you murmured, and while the implications of the word felt a little heavy and maybe a bit presumptuous for the early stages of your relationship, it didn’t diminish the truth of which you spoke it with. Satoru didn’t seem to have an objection to it and merely pasted every inch of his front against your back. 

“If you’re tired, or if the second glass of wine was too much, I’m happy to lend you a change of clothes and offer you a guest room for the night. We can make breakfast in the morning if you’re willing to supervise.” His laughter tickled your skin, and you were quick to shake your head and turn in his hold.

“No to the guest room, but yes to breakfast.” 

He smiled into the kiss he placed onto your lips and you fisted your fingers into the collar of his shirt in an attempt to keep him against you when he stepped back and nodded in the direction of a hallway. You caught his hand from behind when Satoru turned to walk towards what was presumably his bedroom and held on to it as he led you. He glanced back at you over his shoulder, eyes promising and mouth slightly parted, and when he whirled around completely to tug you through the open door of his room, you caught yourself on his chest and giggled. 

While Satoru busied himself with nuzzling his lips against the curve of your shoulder and fiddling with the various clasps and a zipper at the back of your dress, you peeked around his arm to study the vastness of his bedroom. It was as expertly put together as the rest of his home, but still mostly lacking in its signs of life. The high beamed ceiling and towering window framed by lush dark curtains created a feeling of openness, but the plush comforter on his bed and the stone fireplace set across from it helped cultivate a sense of coziness. You spied his uniform draped over the back of a chair nestled under a desk, and a thrill went through when the computer sitting atop it flashed a screensaver familiar to you—the picture of your dessert from the cafe a thousand miles away. 

You had the mind to ask Satoru about it, but before you could he was peeling your dress off your shoulders and down your arms. His eyes flicked up to yours in silent permission and it only took a subtle dip of your chin before he was pushing it the rest of the way down your torso, and you squirmed when his fingers danced over your ribs in a way that tickled. Hands started to move in a hurry after that point. Yours flew to the buttons of his shirt while his traveled up your arms to cup your cheeks so he could kiss you again. When you divested him of the fabric concealing his chest, seeing it land in a flutter next to your dress on the floor, you immediately started in on his belt, taking pleasure in the stuttered breath Satoru let out above you when you yanked on it in your efforts to get it off. 

As soon as he stepped out his pants, Satoru was turning you to the bed and he just barely caught himself above you when the two of you fell back against it. You grinned up at him as you shuffled up towards the pillows, and he followed obediently to settle between your legs when you opened them for him. It wasn’t until Satoru had already shimmed your underwear off your legs and did the same to himself did you feel a prickle of nervousness in your belly at the sight of him. There had been a few others in the time between Suguru and now, but they all had blended into faceless bodies and blurred memories of dark bedrooms, none ever so important that you bothered to recall them in times of loneliness. But this—Satoru—would be different, and you had only ever known one other man in such a deeper level of intimate feelings.

“Comparing me to someone?” The sarcastic quip from Satoru reclaimed your attention and nearly had you leaving the bed altogether, but the hidden undercurrent of vulnerability in his voice kept you under him. One day, the two of you would have a discussion about appropriate boundaries and how to express one’s emotions with proper words, but for now, you would reassure him that he would not have to spend his entire life worrying that he would never be enough for you. 

“No,” you said pointedly, cocking an eyebrow at him, and he actually looked chagrined. “I was actually thinking about how you were longer than I expected.” You punctuated your words by reaching down and wrapping your hand around him, and all the air rushed out of his lungs in a forceful exhale. It wasn’t a lie on your part. Where Suguru had been impressive in his width, Satoru excelled in his length, but that wasn’t any of his particular business. 

“I always thought you’d wear some expensive cologne everyday,” you continued in a whisper, tightening your grip around him until he sagged against your chest and let out a low moan in your ear, “but you smell faintly of clean scented soap and that surprised me.” You trailed the hand not currently occupied over the ridges of his spine and had to bite at your lip when Satoru shuddered against you. “Your skin doesn’t run as hot as I imagined it would, but I don’t mind it.” 

He chuckled a bit at that, and the breathless sound of it made you shiver. In a strained voice he asked, “anything else?” You let out a questioning hum, feigning your need to contemplate the idea, and Satoru nipped at your neck in retaliation. 

“Okay, okay!” you squealed, wriggling under him as he continued his assault up over your ear before replacing them with soft kisses over your cheek. “Your hair feels as soft as it looks and not a day goes by that I don’t think about running my fingers through it.” To emphasize your point, you raked your nails over his scalp and a pleased grumble sounded low in his chest. You debated sharing your next thought with him, but he was searching your eyes in a way that was a little desperate and heart wrenching, so you obliged. 

“The night of that failed date, right before we fought,” you began quietly, tracing your finger over Satoru’s cheek and the bridge of his nose, “I spent the whole time wishing it had been you.” 

The admission must have taken him off guard because his eyes widened and a pink flush took over his cheeks. His chest brushed more firmly against your breasts as his breathing accelerated in the slightest, and you reached up to nudge the tip of your nose against his. You didn’t bother waiting for his reply, and arched your hips upwards to grind them against his, this time you both let out echoing moans. Much of what came next happened in blurs of frenzied movement; his hand slipping between your legs and moving about in a way that had you throwing your head back into his pillows until his room was filled with the sound of you chanting Satoru’s name. When you were breathless and panting, he trailed back up your body with his lips straying to the dip of your waist, the curve of your breast, and then back to your mouth. 

When he finally made space for himself inside you and pulled your thigh higher over his hip, all you could do was grasp at his back and grip at his arms while he murmured your name into the crook of your neck. His movements stole your breath and overwhelmed any other thoughts in your head, but you didn’t mind how much room Satoru took up. Not when his fingers traced your features in delicate awe and wonder, and not when he had you calling his name in response to the sudden burst of warmth that poured over you a second and third time before he followed in kind. 

Satoru rolled the two of you over when your chests were still heaving and limbs were trembling, wrapping you up tightly in the breadth of his arms so you could rest your cheek just under his collarbone while he whispered soft affirmations and praises in your ear. You decided then, when he was still nestled inside you and spoke excitedly of a midnight snack in a plastic to-go bag and of shared breakfast in the morning that Gojo Satoru would never be too much for you. 

————————————————

When Satoru blinked awake, the first thing he noticed was the calmness with which he came out of sleep. His skin wasn’t slicked with sweat, nor were his blankets tangled around his legs. He hadn’t thrashed into consciousness, tormented by an endless loop of nightmares filled with his dead best friend’s face or your vehement ire. Instead, his eyes opened drowsily to take in the blue-black of twilight peeking through his curtains and became instantly aware of the sound of rhythmic breathing to his left. You slept soundly on your side facing away from him, but with your back pressed against his arm. Satoru let out a long breath, feeling more rested than he had in months, but he was in no hurry to find his way out of bed and away from you. In an attempt to coax his mind back into slumber, he shifted onto his side and wiggled down into the bed until he could snuggle his face against the back of your neck. You made a sleepy noise of annoyance when he wrapped his arm around your hips to pull you against him, but you didn’t wake and Satoru sighed in contentment before letting his eyes fall closed.

-----------------------------------------------

I hope y'all enjoyed this sweetness as much as I did!

The next chapter with be the last, but will not be nearly as long and will wrap things up and give a happy ending to our couple. I'm excited to share it will y'all soon<3

Have a good weekend!

Taglist: @paprikaquinn & @kafanizdakicokiyi

[sednonamoris]

thunderstruck

Pairing: John Marston x gn!reader

Summary: A storm brews over your journey with John to meet an old friend and make a profit on the Braithwaite horses. What will happen when lightning strikes?

Warnings: Jealousy, emotional constipation, past relationships, strong language, love confessions, handjobs, penetrative sex, spit as lube (smut easily avoided if you want to skip over it)

Word count: 4,418

A/N: whew!! twenty-three chapters later these two finally got together - i hope you all have enjoyed the ride, and look forward to the rest as much as i do!! let me know what you think <3

Series masterlist • AO3

—

Thunderhead Gulch is an average plains town situated, as the name might suggest, over a gulch where a violent stream rumbles through otherwise quiet countryside. The rockiness of the area lends itself to pastureland and little else; herds of cattle roam and graze, and farmers with rough hands and kind eyes tend their flocks. The town’s storefronts are simple but well-kept, very much like the people who run them. It’s a place for good, honest people looking for good, honest work. 

And it’s exactly where a perfect criminal lives.

Half a week’s worth of travel brought you here, all the while John asking questions you’ve done your best to avoid answering. An old friend from Tumbleweed, is all you’ve told him about the forger you’re meeting. Just a quick reunion and a job done right and we’re out of there. There’s no one else you’d trust to do this job right, but it’s been a long time. You can’t entirely blame John for the skeptical scowl on his face. 

The curio shop you hitch your horses in front of is nestled into Thunderhead’s downtown like it’s been there forever, fit to burst with every secondhand oddity imaginable. Broken clocks and one-eyed dolls and discontinued dime novel serials line the front windows. Inside, a narrow and winding footpath from front to back is all that remains to customers. Every other square inch has been claimed by stacks upon stacks upon stacks of the curiosities this shop is named for.

You and John squeeze your way through the door to the cheerful tinkle of bells. Behind the counter lies a precarious stack of antique bear traps. There’s not a shopkeep in sight. 

“Hello?” John calls out.

“In the back!” a muffled voice replies.

You smile in recognition. John’s expression is entirely mystified, but he takes the look on your face as his go-ahead to forge a path through, weaving around cracked China displays and rusted revolvers and moth-eaten wedding gowns.

Past all that, between stacks of other men’s trash and lost treasures, sits Lottie Reed.

Surprise colors her sharp, angular face the moment she looks up from the faded throw pillow she’s mending, and though time has wrought its changes you still recognize the wild spirit you met once upon a childhood ago in the depths of her seafoam eyes. 

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is that a Ghost?” she asks. Her face is still surprised, still cautious, but a smile threatens the severity of her shock. 

“I’m afraid your shop is terribly haunted, Miss,” you grin.

Just like that her needle and thread are thrown aside as she rushes in for a hug. Her wiry frame curls around you in a vice grip, stood on her tip-toes and clinging like if she holds tight enough you won’t be able to fade away like lost memory. You laugh and hug back warmly. It’s been too long. 

John coughs uncomfortably after a moment.

“Oh, I clean forgot my manners,” you say, extricating yourself from Lottie’s embrace and taking a step back. “Lottie Reed, this is John Marston.” John gives a lukewarm smile. “John Marston, this is my old friend Lottie Reed. We grew up together.” Lottie extends her hand to shake.

“Good to meet you,” John says past his stiff shoulders and wary stare. “Ghost never mentioned much of you before.”

“We lost touch for a spell once I married and moved up here,” Lottie says. John raises his brows. You clear your throat. “Back in the day I earned a cut off stolen horseflesh for forging papers, but Melvin didn’t like me being a part of that life.”

As you recall, he didn’t like you being a part of Lottie’s life. The two of you lived fast and free before he came into the picture, a perfect suitor picked by her parents. Settled, property-owning, and respectable, Melvin was everything Lottie’s family ever imagined for their lettered daughter. You, a cast off orphan with nothing to your name but a government arrest warrant, were not.

“Wherever is Mr. Reed?” 

“Dead. The fever got him two years ago.” Lottie smiles wistfully. “I wrote, but I don’t imagine you ever got the letter.”

“I’m… real sorry.” You’re not sure if you’re apologizing because he’s dead or for a letter you never read. Maybe it’s the fact that you didn’t try to get in touch until now. You never liked Melvin much, but you and Lottie... Well. It’s all in the past now, where things get twisted and lost and can’t ever change.

“Any chance you’re still in the paper fixin’ business?” John asks. Tension looses from your shoulders at the change in topic. “Ghost and I got a couple horses that need buyers, and from what I understand they’d go for a prettier penny with your help.” 

Lottie stands up straighter, businesslike, when she says yes.

“Melvin left me everything, but as you can see,” she gestures to the worthless paraphernalia surrounding you, “it isn’t much. Why don’t you stay by the house tonight while I fix up those papers? It’s been a sight too empty for too long. I’d like the company.”

“We’ll be there,” you promise, clasping her hand before stepping away.

It’s been too long since you’ve slept in a proper bed with a roof over your head, and longer still since you’ve caught up with an old friend. John’s mouth tightens when you say it, maybe because you agreed without asking, but you can’t imagine why a hot meal and some company would bother him. It never has before.

—

Dinner proves an awkward affair.

By the time you and John broke camp and herded your stolen horses to the property, twilight had already painted the house and neighboring barn in dreamy purples and golds. John bitched the whole time you put the horses up, set off by something he refused to tell you about. Then when Lottie met you at the front door in a pretty green dress with her dark curls pulled up it only got worse. She ushered you both into her humbly lit dining room, where a wonderful meal awaited. He glared through the whole affair, despite the warmth of the fire and the kindness piled on every plate. You asked for seconds. He asked to be excused. 

Now he’s off sulking somewhere while you show Lottie the horses down at the barn. So long as he doesn’t scare any buyers away you just have to trust that this mood of his will pass with time. 

Old Father Time nickers you back to the present, begging for a treat that Lottie offers up gladly. She giggles at the tickle of his whiskers when he takes it from her outstretched palm. His dark coat gleams even in the nighttime. Autocrat paws and tosses his dappled head. Cerberus whickers for his own share of attention, earning an affectionate scratch behind the ear. As you introduce each stallion and his accomplishments Lottie hums thoughtfully, mentions a few adjustments she’d like to make on their papers accordingly. It’s nice to work with a professional. You’d almost forgotten what the luxury of forged papers felt like, so long spent with unlettered outlaws and people otherwise uninterested in the horse business. 

“They’re fine animals,” Lottie says, then gestures to Old Boy and Moonshine. “What about these two?”

“I found Old Boy there skinny and abandoned. Perfect timing that John needed a new horse. He put the weight back on him and has him trained up nice.” 

“And the roan?”

“A friend died and left this beast behind,” you say with an affectionate pat to Moonshine’s silver-blue neck over the stall door. He rolls an ornery eye at you, but doesn’t offer a bite like he might have just a few months ago. “He’s mean, but he’s mine.”

Lottie laughs. “Like your cowboy, then.”

“He ain’t—we’re not—” you fumble, “I don’t—”

“The outlaw doth protest too much, methinks,” she cuts you off gently, with that smile full of home and heartbreak. The quote scratches at almost-lost memory in the back of your mind. Summers spent sneaking into a family home through the second story bedroom window. A warm hand in yours. Her familiar voice reciting Shakespeare while you pretended to understand the lines you parroted back. 

“The outlaw protests just enough,” you frown. “He ain’t mine, though I will apologize on his behalf for the way he acted at dinner. John’s plenty mean, but not like that. Not usually, anyway.”

“He’s jealous,” she says like it’s obvious. “I can hardly blame him.”

“If he wants you, I ain’t standin’ in the way, Miss High-and-Mighty,” you laugh, caught off guard by the sudden turn in conversation. It’s a high-up, nervous sound.

“Miss Nothing-to-him,” she corrects. “Can’t you see? That man only has eyes for you.” 

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted to hear and you’re not quite sure what to say. Emotions flash through you like lightning and brush fire, electric scorches of surprise and denial and self-deprecation. Longing. Hope.

“You think?” is all you manage to muster.

Lottie’s eyes are far too sympathetic. “I know.”

“And you don’t… mind?” Your shoulders cringe even as you ask it. Some things are just worth checking. 

She sighs, turns to face you fully, and takes your hands in hers. “I loved after you for a long time. The idea of you, really. A dashing outlaw and a horseback rescue from the life I didn’t want.” She offers a wry smile as she continues, “I only heard that you took Daddy’s money and ran long after the wedding was over.” You start to apologize, but she cuts you off before it ever leaves your mouth. “It’s done, now. I don’t think either of us would go back and change it if we could. I’m happy here, now, and you have your cowboy. Your John. It’s time you let yourself be happy, too.” 

“Funny enough, you’re not the first person who’s said that to me.” You drop your chin and try to stop the burn of tears that threatens your composure as you squeeze her bookish hands with your calloused ones. “Thank you, Lottie.”

She squeezes back and smiles. “You’re welcome.”

When she says your name, you feel a little less like a ghost. 

—

On the walk back up to the house you spy movement in an upstairs window. Just a blur by candlelight. 

You wonder how much John saw from up there. If jealousy burns his eyes and the back of his throat the way it used to for you, watching him and Abigail together. It lights a spark of something low in your belly, hope or want or vindication. A grim, simmering promise of things to come.

—

The next morning greets you sunshine-bright and singing. The grasses sway gently with the breeze. The birds flit from leafy tree limbs outstretched in the sky’s great blue embrace. Lottie insists on giving you not only the agreed-upon papers, but breakfast for the road as well. The fistfull of cash you fetch from your saddlebag is more than she asked for, but when she protests you push her hands back gently. After everything, it’s fitting payment.

“Ride safe, now,” she tells you, shielding the sun from her greenglass eyes to look up at your mounted form. “It’s nice now, but a storm’s brewing. Can you smell it on the breeze?”

You can. Sunshine undercut with petrichor and the buzzing, electric promise of lightning. “We will. Thank you again, Lottie. For everything.” Live well.

“The same to you, old friend,” she smiles your way, then turns to John. “Keep an eye on this one, will you?”

“Always do.” His voice is curt, and his eyes are sharp and unkind when he says it.

Mean, you think as you sneak a look at his striking profile. But mine.

You wave one last goodbye before riding off, stolen horses in tow, false paperwork tucked into your breast pocket. The pair of you make for the horizon line and don’t look back.

—

John is quiet in the coming days. Uncharacteristically so. You catch him staring at you when he thinks you don’t see; eyeing the length of your neck as you drink from your canteen, memorizing the planes of your face lit by campfire, burning a hole in your back as you ride ahead. All the ways you’ve watched him since you were young and scared and barely knew what to call the ache in your chest and the scorch of your want. That anguish which even now you refuse to name; you know what it is. 

Maybe Lottie was right.

Maybe John knows it too.

—

As you ride toward the next town, and the next one, and the next, the sky darkens from shades of blue to grey to not-quite-black. The storm hasn’t hit yet, but rain heralds its coming on the wind. In the hoofbeats of the horses you hear thunder.

—

A man in tweed with a curled mustache buys Cerberus behind a saloon in Split River. John orders you both a round of drinks to celebrate. His fingers brush against yours when you toast your glasses together. It tastes of wildfire. Stings the whole way down.

You’re forced to leave when he almost takes a man’s head off for asking you to share a dance shortly after. The jaunty fiddle tune haunts your steps into the lamplit streets as you beat your hasty retreat, John’s shoulder clasped tight beneath your burnt whiskey fingertips.

—

In Steelhead, a farmer with a nose for a pedigree takes Autocrat off your hands. That night he puts the pair of you up with his other farmhands to get you out of the nighttime chill. It’s a kindness you hadn’t counted on, but it feels cruel the moment you see a man, broad and strong with eyes the same shade as yours, agree to light John’s cigarette. Across the room they lean in close. Closer. The butts of their cigarettes glow shrouded in smoke as they share the intimacy of nicotine breath, but the whole time John’s eyes are on yours. A punishment. A dare. 

In a bedroll as far from everyone else as the room allows, you don’t sleep a wink.

The following morning breaks grey and ominous. You can’t leave the place far enough behind. 

—

Rushing Spring houses Old Father Time’s new owner, a fashionable young woman whose father can refuse her nothing. He barely looks the horse over before offering more than your asking price, and you shake his hand without giving him a moment to think twice. 

“Better get going if we want to beat this weather,” John says as they walk away with their new purchase. His eyes are squinted up at the sky, storm grey and swirling. It’s the most he’s offered to speak since Lottie’s.

“You’re right,” you agree. But as you glance up at the churning clouds above you, you’re not so sure that you will.

—

The rain catches you the next afternoon in open country, not a settlement in sight. It starts as a drizzle, errant drops that speckle the leather of your saddle and pepper Moonshine’s coat, but soon crescendos into an all-out pour. It comes so thick and fast that you can hardly see John and Old Boy just a horselength in front of you. John turns to shout something over the downpour, but the wind snatches his words. It’s too dark to read his lips.

When he turns his horse away you follow blind.

There’s a rockface somewhere off to the left, you know. You’ve seen irregular shelves and outcroppings from a distance. Maybe John spied something like that before the rain came? Maybe he’s just trusting that he’ll find shelter before an errant lightning strike hits anything nearby. Whatever the case is, his luck holds. You endure only a few more minutes of being utterly soaked before the dark, yawning mouth of a cave opens up before you.

The horses shake their dripping coats the moment you step inside. Their unshod hoofbeats echo with the rainfall. Lightning flashes, lighting your surroundings for a heartbeat and a half. It’s enough to see that the cave doesn’t run dangerously deep; you need not fear it housing some slumbering bear or wildcat’s den, but it’s enough to keep the rain from soaking you entirely. So long as it doesn’t flood, you guess.

Without so much as a word you and John fall into a routine that’s been established since you were kids. You untack and hobble the horses, toweling them dry as best you can. Moonshine tenses beneath your hands at the distant rumble of thunder rolling ever closer. John starts a fire and gets to warming food. Canned beans, it looks like. Better than nothing. You set the tent tarp on the ground to keep the bedrolls dry. The extra blankets you have packed away aren’t quite wet. It’s a sadder, damper camp than you normally pull together, but in the wake of this weather you’d be hard-pressed to do better.

You huddle close to the small fire with your plate of food. John sits opposite you and says nothing. Just watches. You watch back. The way his sharp features accentuate with shadow. The way his damp skin is drenched in firelight. His hair is plastered to his cheek, and your fingers twitch with longing to smooth it back and kiss the raindrops from his lips. When the next lightning strike flashes, you see unmasked want reflected back in his eyes.

“John…” you start, but can’t find the right words. How do you give voice to thoughts you’ve smothered for years now? How would you even begin? 

“I need a drink after all that,” he says, pulling his flask from his belt and taking a swig. “How ‘bout you?”

Your mouth is terribly dry. “Sure.” 

The offer doesn’t surprise you, but the way he hands it over, slow and deliberate, your fingers brushing together, does. Instead of retreating back to his side of the fire he remains with his hungry eyes and sharp mouth. You can’t quite bring yourself to look away as you drink. It burns like whiskey, but it tastes like him.

“Somethin’ else out there,” he says, inclining his head toward the mouth of the cave. Lightning flashes, and a clap of thunder - the closest one yet - punctuates his statement. “Reminds me of all them years ago, picking you up out of the mud. You remember that?”

“How could I forget? Saved my life.” Marked it forever. Changed it. For better or for worse.

“Every time it storms I think about that day,” he confesses. His hand reaches up for your face, cupping your cheek. You swear your heart stops. His brows knit together. “I don’t know that I would’ve saved anyone else.”

“I’m not sure I would’ve let anyone else do the saving.”

The rough pad of his thumb strokes the side of your neck. You swallow past a dry mouth and watch his eyes trace the line of your throat. Firelight flickers across his features. He leans in closer.  

“It was always gonna be you and me, wasn’t it?” His breath fans your lips; whiskey and want. 

Lightning arcs across the sky outside, lighting his face in that same eerie glow it did the day you met. He’s so beautiful. You’re so tired of pretending.

Before the thunder has a chance to crash, you answer him with a kiss. 

It’s everything.

Electric.

You feel the boom of thunder in your chest when it comes, feel his hands wandering there and know it’s where they’ve always belonged. When he bites your lip and pushes you onto your back, your body accommodates him without thinking. He settles into the space between your legs and pulls back just long enough to admire, a wolfish gleam in his eye. What a sight you must be, spread out and chest heaving, eyes blown wide with years’ worth of want, face half-lit by the fire. 

“Fuck,” he says, breathless, and then kisses you again. “Should’a done that sooner.”

But you’re here now, and it’s everything you could ever want or imagine. Better, somehow. You know John better than you know yourself and still his passion surprises you as he presses chapped-lip kisses further and further down your neck. You gasp when he bites down and feel him smirk against your rainsoaked skin. He’s paid back in kind with a sharp tug at the root of his hair, your hand tangled in those long, dark strands. A groan sounds from deep in his chest and he pulls away long enough for you to see the grey of his eyes go black.

“Tell me you want this,” he says. 

“I want it.” You squirm, rolling your hips against his just to see desire glaze across his face. “I want you.”

“Shit, Ghost,” he says. “You always had me. I’m yours. It’s all yours.”

Whether he means his body or his heart or his soul you don’t rightly know. Right now you hardly care. All you know is that his hands are all over you at once, pulling layer after layer of soaked clothing away until you’re almost completely bare beneath him. Your nipples pebble against the sudden exposure to evening storm air, and his hungry eyes watch your every move, every breath beneath him. He’s a sight himself; half hard already, those soaked-through breeches plastered to his skin leaving little to the imagination. His hair is all a mess and his scars stand out against scarlet and his eyes are dark and bright. You help him tear his clothes away and grin when his broad, lean chest gleams in the flickering light of the campfire. You run your fingers against the dark hair there and feel him shudder beneath your touch. Heat rushes to your core when he removes his pants, leaving his cock exposed and flush against his stomach. You move to lick a stripe down your hand when he grabs your wrist.

“Don’t,” he says, face flushed. Eyes bright. “I like when it hurts, a little.”

He licks his lips. You grin and take him in your hand. His breath catches and his hips stutter as you set a slow, steady, punishing rhythm. 

“Goddamn,” he curses. “Just like that.”

You’re dizzy with power and want. Seeing the effect you have on him, his chest heaving, his eyes rolled toward the heavens, makes that simmering warmth in your belly start to boil over. You smooth a calloused fingerpad over his tip just to watch him shudder. Precup smears. His eyes squeeze shut, and all too soon he’s pushing your hands away.

You tilt your head in question and he grins, half-shy. “I ain’t gonna last if you keep that up.”

“That’s the point, dumbass.”

He shakes his head, bends to kiss the corner of your mouth. “Want to feel you, first.”

Heat floods your body from your chest to your fingertips at the confession.

Hard to argue with that.

He makes a strangled sound at the back of his throat watching you wriggle out of your pants, moaning outright when you take his hand and put his fingers in your mouth. His eyes glaze over and he thrusts them to the back of your throat just once to see what happens. You hum around them. His eyes go even darker.

Hesitantly, maybe even a little reverently, he starts to work you open. The further he goes and the more you relax into it, the rougher and more confident he becomes. One finger becomes two, becomes three. Still you want more.

“Yeah?” he says as you moan, half cocky and half like he can’t believe he’s the lucky son of a bitch making you see stars. You hate that it wrecks you the way that it does.

“Yeah,” you breathe, tilting your head up to press a kiss to his jaw.

He takes your face in his hands and kisses you back properly, thoroughly, before lining up to your entrance and thrusting in all at once. It’s that special kind of too-much ecstasy, your vision going dark and your voice keening at the sensation.

“Shit, you feel good,” he whines.

“Please, John,” you say, though you’re not sure what you’re begging for other than more. 

Lightning screams through the storming sky outside and his pale skin glows in white-hot light. He takes you apart to the sound of fading thunder and falling rain. You shift to meet the thrust of those narrow hips halfway, and rake your fingers down his back with each burst of pleasure. If there’s such a thing as completion, it must be this. The way your bodies fit together, the way you know every thought that flashes behind the wolfish want in his eyes. Each unspoken, understood I love you. He taught you to do it long before he recognized the feeling returned, and when you finally reach the peak of your pleasure you sigh it into his skin.

I love you, John Marston.

“Fuck, Ghost,” he pants. “Fuck. I love you too.” 

His thrusts get sloppy, chasing his own high, and when he pulls out and spends himself across your stomach his voice cracks saying your name. It’s never sounded sweeter.

After a few settling breaths John leans down and presses a firm kiss to your forehead. You miss his warmth for only moments when he rolls away to find a rag to clean you up. The two of you fall asleep in one another’s arms. Outside, the rain slows and fades away to a drizzle, then nothing.

—

You wake the next morning to wiry arms wrapped around you and John’s face pressed into your stomach. He snores softly, and you allow yourself a quiet moment to admire his sleeping form. It’s impossible to stop the fond smile that steals across your face. Carefully, carefully, you extricate yourself from his embrace.

When you step outside, morning birdsong greets you. The grass beneath your feet is as dewy as the pinks and yellows and robin’s egg blues that paint the sky above. It’s the kind of sunrise that only comes after a storm.

You lean against the rockface and light a cigarette, watching the smoke dissipate on the fresh morning breeze. It isn’t long before John joins you. Wordlessly you pass him your cigarette, and wordlessly he takes a drag. He breathes smoke into the air and smiles.

Together you watch the sun rise.

[bodiedbyteecosplays]

Modern!Human Hantengu Brothers headcanons

Heeeyyyy babiesss!!! I’m sorry it’s so late but I FINALLY GOT MY HANTENGU BROTHERS HEADCANONS DONE 🥹🥹!! I sincerely hope y’all enjoy them!

Alright so, The headcanon came from the roots in the manga. Hantengu (the demon) was known to have multiple wives and children and he killed every last one of them. After Muzan’s defeat & Hantengu was reborn, he sadly abandoned his wife and his two children because he still had his memories from his past life and felt guilt & fear. His son grew a bit of resentment for him and promised that when he became a father that he would be there for his children through and through. He met the Brothers’ mother because she was visiting Japan from Nigeria and fell absolutely head over heels in love with her. They soon started dating after getting to know each other. Then married later on and their first born son, Sekido was born, then came Karaku, Aizetsu, Urogi , & Zohakuten.

Their Mother, Dr. Kehinde Adeyinka- Hantengu is a OBGYN & their father Urami Hantengu is a co director for a very big movie production company. ( my boys came from riches but still humble )

Their parents come from different cultures so they always brought them up in a way where they were exposed to both equally. They know Japanese (that does include how to write in Japanese too), Yoruba, Nigerian Pidgin, English, and Swahili.

SEKIDO

• Much like his past life, Sekido still remains the oldest. His birthday is September 3rd, 1995 making our angery baby a Virgo ♍️.

• When I tell yall he is nonchalantttt!! Whew! He literally says the first thing that comes on his mind. His mom always told him that he was like his father in that regard.

• Also much like his past life, he always looks angered (Resting bitch face go brrrrrrr) Most people are kinda afraid to approach him.

• Definitely gets annoyed by his brothers antics (mostly Urogi and Karaku playing pranks on him and pissing him off and Aizetsu constantly second guessing himself)

• Loves the rain and finds it peaceful when it’s thundering outside.. it sets the mood when he’s by himself playing the piano (one of his hidden talents)

• He works as a Auto mechanic at his own shop. (which explains how he knows to keep his cars in perfect condition)

• He is most DEFINITELY a cat person. He has a Black Maine coon mix named Zeus. He found him just laying on top of one of his cars one day as he was getting ready to go get groceries and when he came back from the store, he was sitting in front of his apartment and he started growing fond of him and took him in. Zeus is spoiled rotten so I can only imagine when Sekido gets a partner 🫠.

• Is a greeeeeaaaaattttt cook! Other than their mother, his brothers usually latch on to his place when he does cook. (He definitely has a special apron on when he cooks too) He learned from his momma 🤩

• Has a giant dragon tattoo on his back that was drawn by Zohakuten and tattooed by Managi (Modern Human Gyokko. In my headcanon, he’s a famous Tattoo artist that grew fame from TikTok)

• Definitely is a Heavy sleeper but don’t let that MF Fan Turn off. He gonna wake up PISSED.

• Academically speaking, Sekido is extremely intelligent. He graduated top of his class in High school & has a degree in Engineering (he also graduated top of his class in college too)

• BLACK COFFEE ADDICT! Can’t stand overly sweet coffee or sweet ANYTHING. Likes really savory foods! Lots of meat but not too too much. Also loves vegetables, stews, curry’s, and etc. The only thing he can tolerate that relates to sweet foods is dark chocolate.

• Definitely the type to go to bed by 10 pm (grumpy old man 😂😂)

• LISTEN! My baby is BUILTTTTTTT. He definitely hits the gym after work He’ll OCCASIONALLY go with Karaku if he doesn’t have to work. He’s also tall (he’s 6’3 1/2 and the tallest out of the brothers)

• He adores his family and anyone he deems close although he does get annoyed with their shenanigans he will always and forever care.

• y’all know that bath & body works scent “ Mahogany Teakwood” yeah, literally smells like that plus Shea butter & mint.

KARAKU

• Karaku is the second Born like his past carnation. He was born on October 4, 1996 making him a Libra baby.

• He’s literally a big kid at heart but he’s really chill and down to earth.

• Much like his past life he’s really playful and loves a good thrill. It makes his blood pump lol.

• Loves teasing his brothers (mostly Sekido and Aizetsu) One time he played a prank on Sekido while he was asleep by putting a realistic looking robotic spider on him (poor Seki has arachnophobia 🥲) & when he woke up all hell broke loose and when he finally caught Karaku, he put him in a chokehold and it took Urogi and Aizetsu to get him off of Karaku. 😂😂😂 and you’d think after that he’d learn his lesson (he didn’t)

• He works as a Bartending Manager for a big club and always makes good money in tips because one he loves serving the drinks and seeing people’s reaction to his drinks and they all love him dearly.

• Speaking of, he Is a masttttterrrrr at creating drink recipes and has a miniature bar at his place. He’s also a fairly decent cook but still annoys Sekido because he likes his better 😂.

• Like I’ve said before, mans is a seriously talented dancer & he effortlessly woos people with his moves ever since he went viral online & has a lots of fans (no pun intended).

• He also posts videos of him making drinks on TikTok too and always picks the best songs but people mostly like when he does voice overs of what he puts in drinks.

• He also does Twitch streams from time to time playing games( likes games like FNAF, Dead by Daylight, or any kind of scary games.)

• I also headcanon that he loves Halloween mostly because it’s during his birth month.

• Has one tattoo on his arm of his moms first name. His mom always told him that he reminds her of herself back in her youth.

• Loves all animals but is more so a Dog person.

• HE DOES SMOKE WEED & VAPE!

• Academically he made A’s & B’s in high school so he is quite smart but still goofed off in class though 😂. He has a Bachelors Degree in Communications and is also apart of a Fraternity.

• DEFINITELY A GYM BRO BUT NOT THE TOXIC KIND. Takes his physical health and physique seriously but never ever talks bad about how anyone else chooses to do with their body. If they are happy, he is as well. He’s definitely not a bodyshamer & will put someone in check if they talk bad about someone around him.

• HES A LIGHT SLEEPER. Any little sound will wake him up instantly. One time he came home from work so tired that he forgot that he connected his phone to his big bluetooth speaker while he took a shower & also forgot that he set an alarm to wake him up in the morning for the gym and damn near had a heart attack when his alarm went off. 🥲

• Loves energy drinks and coffee but knows his limits on his intake and that too much caffeine isn’t good. DEFINITELY MEAL PREPS! Has meats, vegetables, and fruits.

• Like I Said, he takes his personal physical seriously. He has a skin care routine and he also smells really good too .. it’s like a Citrusy and warm vanilla type scent mixed with hints of his favorite cologne.

• He’s also fairly tall too standing at about 6’2

• He’s heavily into zodiac signs and reads his horoscope on the daily! Got the rest of his brothers into it. Sekido & Zoha thought it was stupid until they both did some research and it started singling out their individual character traits & that’s what sparked their interests in it.

• He’s a lover at heart so anybody that he loves he has them near and dear to his heart. If he loves you then you’re a 4LIFERRRRR.

AIZETSU

• So he’s the middle child! His Birthday is February 20, 1998 making Zetsy a Pisces baby!

• Much like his past incarnation he’s quiet & monotone if he’s not comfortable around you but once he is comfortable he becomes relaxed and more expressive. Is very introverted.

• He was kind of bullied in school due to his quiet and timid behavior but when asked his opinion on something, much like his older brother Sekido he wouldn’t hold back the truth (it’s always the quiet ones)

• I would like to think that Aizetsu is heavily into meditation because it calms his anxiety and his nerves.

• PLEASE GIVE THIS BABY WORDS OF AFFIRMATION AND REASSURANCE!

• Aizetsu works as a computer tech and is very good with technology. He’s been very tech savvy since he was a kid always learning how it functions and knowing the ins and outs of it. He also works part time as a Lyft driver.

• His hidden talent is singing! Like I said in my last post, Aizetsu is a hellllaaaa talented singer but he only does so in private but if he sings around someone that means he’s comfortable with them.

• He’s into Zodiac signs thanks to Karaku. He’s a water sign (Team waterrrr) so he’s really good at seeing through people and strays away from those who he determines to be not good people.

• Doesn’t really go to the gym. He thinks it’s way too many people. Instead he finds alternatives at home and he was blessed with a high metabolism too so that’s a W for him. But don’t let that fool you, under what he covers up, he’s still buff. He is about 6’2, same height as Karaku.

• Made excellent grades in school. Mostly all As and graduated top of his class like his brother. He is currently in college pursuing software engineering and is still doing excellent academically!

• Is a good cook at best. Only sticks to simple stuff and doesn’t really like to go all out. Not particular about food but in the same breath, he does lean towards savory foods.

• Doesn’t have any tattoos but low key wants a treble clef tattoo on his chest or something small.

• Has a pet Bearded dragon named Toothless.

• Smells really good! I think he would smell like Cinnamon. Skin does get irritated during the summer time but it’s not severe. Does get tips from Karaku about skin care.

• Is much more of a tea kind of person and loves herbal tea (chamomile is his favorite)

• Not really much of a sweets kind of person.

• IS A VERY LIGHT SLEEPER. Imagine Karaku x10!! Will wake up if he hears the smallest sound or if the temperature is not to his liking (he keeps his place on 64 degrees AT ALL TIMES).

• Aizetsu is a very gentle, understanding, sweet, and thoughtful person and he has times where he second guesses himself but he definitely has a good crowd of people around him to keep his head held high.

UROGI

• Like his past incarnation he’s the second to last born. His Birthday is January 4th, 1999 ( he’s only 11 months younger than Aizetsu)

• He is most DEFINITELY a wild child lmao! He’s like Karaku x3000 when it comes to getting a thrill out of doing some shit. As a child he used to like to jump off of crazy shit and oddly would not get hurt 😅

• Has always been hella adventurous since he was a young lad. Always loved being outdoors and being in nature and still does in his adulthood. Likes going hiking & climbing. He feels at peace outdoors.

• He once climbed a whole fucking billboard and sat there for like 10 minutes ( Karaku and one of their cousins has a recording of him climbing it)

• Not only is he super flexible and athletic but he’s also very musically inclined too. His singing voice is on par with Aizetsu and he can read and write music (to an extent).

• Urogi works at the same bar as Karaku (Yes they work together) literally trouble but make it double 😂😂. Much to anyone’s surprise they don’t cause THAT much chaos. If Karaku is thing one then Urogi is thing two!

• He also loves coming up with different type of recipes and they are all a hit. Him and Karaku compete to see whose drinks are the best at work but it’s all brotherly competition and never any hard feelings.

• Heavily into gymnastics too & have been since he was little! So you know he keeps his body in great condition and goes to the gym everyday! He is about 6’1 1/2.

• Academically he made a mixture of A’s, B’s, and some C’s. Never went below a C. Is very smart but is whole ass class clown. It only took one time for his parents to get onto him and he never caused any significant distractions again lmao. Did not want to attend college but chose to follow what he felt was good for him. At first his parents were a little mad but they let Urogi decide what was best for him and supported whatever he decided (WE LOVE GOOD NON TOXIC PARENTING 🥹).

• Can cook but absolutely hates doing it. Prefers takeout instead and only cooks when he is in the mood to do so.

• Very much a HEAVY ASS SLEEPER & SNORES. Can probably sleep through a loud ass storm.

• Smells very earthy but not in a bad way. Like a combination of Pine and Sandalwood. (His favorite body wash is Dove Sandalwood for its earthy tone) Has seasonal breakouts but worst during winter (poor baby)

• He definitely smokes weed but by himself or with Karaku.

• His weakness: HE LOVES SWEETS & JUNK FOOD. Mans can literally eat a XL pizza by himself.

• Urogi is all together a very friendly, eclectic, and outgoing person and everyone can’t help but love him (even though he sometimes drives them crazy) 😂

ZOHAKUTEN

• He’s the last born baby of the brothers! He was born July 21st, 2007 so he is a Cancer baby!

• Like Sekido and Aizetsu, Zohakuten is a rather quiet, reserved person. But he is hellllaaaaa blunt. Zohakuten’s tone may come off a bit direct and blunt and a little harsh but I think he means well. (Sometimes)

• INTROVERTED.

• Also like his brother, he DEFINITELY has a resting bitch face and is his dads literally mini me.

• He is very much into art and loves graphic design. He’s also a very skilled digital artist as well.

• As a matter of fact, he drew the dragon design that Sekido has tattooed on his back for his birthday last year.

• He is still in high school and is very close to his senior year!! He makes excellent grades in school with straight A’s and has always.

• He is also a band student too! He plays the snare drums.

• After Highschool he does hope to help his dad out at the studio and work to save up for college. He wants to pursue a career in art.

• Since he still lives at home of course he gets spoiled by his parents but I don’t see him being the petty type like rubbing it in his brothers faces. Hell they be spoiling him too.

• He hits the gym with his brothers when they go. It’s like part of a bonding experience.

• He is about 5’9 ( his mom thinks that he’s on the brink of a major growth spurt.) For more context, their mom is 5’11 (momma a stallionnnn) and their dad is 6’7.

• HE HATES SWEETS! Prefers spicy foods though! Literally will go through a family sized bag of hot chips in 30 minutes and nobody knows how. (Not even me.) 😂😂😂.

• HEAVY ASS SLEEPER! That’s it that’s the post.

• Is willing to learn how to cook but only trusts his mother or Sekido to teach him.

• Karaku got him into zodiac signs too. He didn’t understand the concept at first until he read further and started seeing his attitude traits in what he read on Cancers.

• Not a people person but it is not as bad as his past incarnation where he bathed in hatred. Is willing to make some changes to his attitude and approach especially pursuing a career that deals with customers commissioning him for his arts but PLEASE do not piss him off or rush his work.

• He may not show it but he lovvvveesssss and adores his family!

I genuinely hope you all enjoyed my headcanons. I had been putting it off and putting it off and making revisions but I think that I love my headcanons for them. There are of course some more to come though so keep your eyes peeled. I will eventually start writing for more fandoms but I gotta let this Hantengu clone brainrot out somehow lmao.

I tag: @i-karaku-swear-i-dont-smoke-weed @ch3rriiii-bunn @hakujisstuff @bbkook @its-freaking-jordan @yunaarts

[mynonclicheblog]

I'm thinking waaayyyy too much about the implications of Lockwood's morning montage that was cut from the final edit...

Mainly about the fact that he's shown to be lying there, wide awake.

Complete Fiction confirmed on twitter that this scene was supposed to happen at the beginning of episode 5, and hoooo boy do I have THOUGHTS about this. Okay. So.

When we look at the events of episode 4, it was an emotional roller coaster of a day for Lockwood. I'd argue it was the most stressful single day's events for him that we see up to this point. To recap, Lockwood had to deal with:

Being bested and humiliated by Kipps's crew during the wraith hunt; (presumably) having to worry about Lucy's wellbeing after she passed out in the basement; waay too many close calls at the Kensal Green Cemetery job that night; getting into a big blowout/fight with BOTH George and Lucy; having to expose a very raw and vulnerable side of himself to apologize to Lucy; and finally, putting himself in a bet with Kipps that could potentially cost him his home, his livelihood, his purpose; and worst of all - it could cost the same for Lucy and George. That, I imagine, is something that would've kept him awake. Just turning over all the worst case scenarios, all the ways he'd have to try and pick up the pieces if he ended up losing the bet, therefore single-handedly ruining the lives of the two greatest people in the world due to his own rash stupidity.

Whew.

No wonder this poor sweet boy hasn't slept.

But then I think about the events of episode 5, and how it contains some of his most reckless behavior to date - like inviting a dangerous criminal to their home, spontaneously sneaking into Winkman's to find the mirror, at the same time leaving George alone at the house where said criminal will most likely show up (something the dialogue explicitly tells us Lockwood "forgot" about) - and I wonder how much of that was exacerbated by his poor emotional regulation + lack of sleep after the whirlwind that was yesterday. It's so, so difficult to think clearly when you're running on empty.

He's just a kid, your honor.

Episode 5 is also the one in which Lockwood/Cameron's dark circles are the most prominent in the entirety of season 1.

I JUST... I JUST think it's really important that it's episode 5 specifically that we were going to be shown Lockwood getting up in the morning! Because it adds SO MUCH context to know that he didn't sleep that night!!!

[zexalisliving]

@darlingasta-not and @pileofrocksjh, you both know what time it is.

“Jaden!” A voice called from in Slifer Red. 

“W…what is it, Sy?” 

Syrus rushed over to Jaden’s bed. “I’ve been trying to wake you up for 5 minutes, Jay! I thought you’d be awake by now, cuz today’s the day!”

Jaden sat up. “Today’s the day for what?” he asked.

“Dr. Crowler is gonna’ teach us something called… ‘Synchronized Summoning’?” Syrus said. 

Jaden chuckled as he recalled what Syrus was talking about. He got out of bed. “Synchro Summoning, Sy.” he said.

“My bad.” 

Jaden changed into his normal Slifer Red attire before leaving the dorm room. Syrus followed him out. 

“Aren’t you excited, Jay?” he asked. 

“Totally, Sy! It’s always sweet to learn new dueling stuff!... except that I have to sit through class to learn it!”Jaden chuckled, scratching the back of his head. 

He and Syrus arrived at Duel Academy’s entrance and went inside. 

Jaden waved at a variety of students, which included Chazz, who scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

“Typical Chazz!” Jaden said, walking past him and into the classroom.

Once everyone had sat down, Dr. Crowler began his teaching. 

“As you all know, well, maybe except for Jaden, today I’m supposed to teach you about Synchro Summoning. But there’s something else that you don’t know, and I’d like to keep it that way.”  

Bastion stood up. “Um, if you don’t mind, Dr. Crowler, why on earth would you bring that up if you weren’t going to tell us what it was in the first place?” he asked.

“Don’t defy your teacher, young man! I can say whatever I want!” Crowler snapped.

Bastion sat back down.

Jaden bumped Syrus’ side with his elbow. “Hey, Sy!” he said. “This ‘something else that we don’t know about’ sounds really cool, right?” 

Syrus nodded, but he was clearly worried about something. 

“Is everything alright?” Jaden asked. 

Syrus looked at him. “Well… what if this thing is something we don’t want to know? I mean… imagine it, Jay. Chancellor Shepherd could be quitting his job, or maybe Dorothy will quit making fried shrimp! Mm… fried shrimp… b-but that’s not the point! We could be in for something horrible, Jaden!”

Jaden patted Syrus’ back. “Oh, Sy, you worry too much. Everything’s gonna’ be fine!” he assured him. 

Dr. Crowler was anxiously biting his nails. The whole classroom filled with mutters and quiet discussions, likely due to his comment on the mysterious subject, which he didn’t like for a variety of reasons.

“Attention, class!” he said at last. 

Everyone stopped and turned to him. 

“Enough of your muttering! I’m the one who’s supposed to be speaking, not you!” he said. 

“Uh, why?” An Obelisk Blue asked. 

“Because I’m your teacher.” Crowler replied simply. “Now anyways,” he pointed to the chart behind him. “This is a Tuner monster. They can be used with other non-tuner monsters in order to synchro summon. This action is called ‘Tuning’.”

It was a long day in class. In fact, everytime Dr. Crowler taught it was. 

Jaden was talking to Syrus  and Alexis on his way back to Slifer Red. 

“Whew! At least that’s over!” he sighed. 

“Oh, please!”Alexis said. “You slept through most of it!” 

Syrus still wasn’t talking. He hadn’t since Crowler started teaching. 

“You okay, Sy?” Jaden asked him. 

“No, Jay,” Syrus answered.

“Then what’s wrong?” Alexis asked.

Syrus sniffled. “T… the friend shrimp. The poor, poor, helpless fried shrimp…” he began to cry.

“Woah, Sy! Calm down, dude! It’s just shrimp–” 

Syrus began bawling louder. 

“A-and I’m sure Dorothy won’t stop making it!” Jaden said, in hopes to cheer him up. 

And it worked. “Really? You’re sure?” Syrus asked. 

“Yep!” 

Syrus wiped the tears off his face with the sleeve of his Obelisk Blue jacket. “Man, that’s good to know,” he said. 

Alexis went back to Obelisk Blue a little while after talking with Jaden and Syrus, and a few minutes later, the two arrived at Slifer Red.

“Hey, soldiers!” Hassleberry said once they had entered their dorm room. 

“Hey, Hassleberry!” both said in unison. 

Syrus sat at the desk. 

“Hey, did ya’ hear about the event that’s gonna’ happen tomorrow?” Hassleberry asked.

“No, what is it?” Jaden asked, changing into his nightshirt.

“The Duel Academy Boys are playing their new hit called “He’s In The Moonlight At Midday”. Apparently it’s gonna’ make millions world-wide!” 

Syrus gasped. “The Duel Academy Boys?! I love them!” he pulled out a poster from a stack of papers on the desk. It was of the three Duel Academy Boys dressed up as Duel Ghouls. “I even wrote an article on them!” he said proudly.

“Oh, really?” Hassleberry asked, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. 

Syrus didn’t pick up on that, however. “Yeah! I’ll show you!” he pulled out his Duel Academy-issued newspaper and passed it to him. It read:

“The Duel Academy Boys are  three guys from, as their name suggests, Duel Academy. They created a band 2 years ago after they were turned into Duel Ghouls. 

The idea originated when they sung ‘Duel Me’ when they were Duel Ghouls, but they actually created the band a week after that incident. 

Their first song, called “Duel Academy”, was a huge hit. The first person to buy a record of this song was Chazz Princeton, the same day it was released. 

Their members include–”

Hassleberry stopped reading, looking over the extremely long article. “I’ve always liked the Duel Academy Boys, but that’s a lot of info, Sy.” he said. 

Syrus nodded. “Yep!” he said. “Just how I like it!” he took the papers back. 

“So, Jaden,” Hassleberry began. “Where do ya’ think we can find some Synchro monsters?” 

Jaden thought about it. “Maybe Dorothy gives em’ out, or maybe they come in Duel Academy booster packs!” he said. 

“Or we could go to Mr. Muto’s game store!” Syrus added. 

“Yeah, but I suggest that we get some shut-eye before we go synchro huntin’.” Hassleberry said. 

“Say, you’re right,” Jaden yawned as he stretched. 

“Yeah. Goodnight, guys.” Syrus said, climbing into his bed. 

After a while, the three fell asleep.

The next day, about 10 minutes before class, Jaden and Syrus went to the card shop that Dorothy ran. Hassleberryhad already visited earlier that day.

“Hey, Miss Dorothy!” Jaden said. 

“Hello, boys!” Dorothy smiled. “So what brings you two here?” 

Jaden browsed the shelves, as did Syrus.

 “We came for some Synchro monsters.” Syrus said.

“Ooh, sorry boys, but we’re all out. We have been since 6:00!”

Jaden sighed. 

“Aw, man!” Syrus said.

Dorothy looked at them for a brief moment before digging around in a box on the counter. She pulled out two cards and held them out. “Well, here’s this.” she said, giving them to Jaden and Syrus. “Though they aren’t Synchro monsters, they sure are Tuners! I hope they make up for it.” 

Syrus flipped his card over. “Woah!” he said, looking at a new holographic “Roid” monster.

At the same time, Jaden gasped as he looked at his card as well. “Mr. Happy Kuriboh! I heard about his release last month!” he exclaimed.

Dorothy chuckled. “Now go on before you’re late!” she said. 

The two put their cards into their pockets and ran off. “Thanks, Miss Dorothy!” Jaden called behind him.

On the way to the classroom, Chazz stopped them in their tracks by stepping in front of them. “Hey dorks.” he said. He took a card out from within his pocket and held it, the back facing Jaden and Syrus. 

“Hey Chazz.” Syrus said.

“Can you move? We’re gonna’ be late!” Jaden said, running in place.

“Oh, what’s wrong? You in a hurry? That’s fine, cuz a quick guessing game with The Chazz won’t take long.” 

Jaden stopped and stood still. “Alright!” he said. “I’m always up for a challenge!” 

Chazz smiled. He was obviously up to no good. “What’s in my hand, Jay?” 

“Simple! A card!” Jaden said. 

“No, Jaden. Guess again.” 

“Um… A replica of a card…?” 

“No!” Chazz said angrily. Then he cleared his throat. “It’s a Synchro monster.” he flipped it around. “Do you want to know something?” 

“Sure, Chazz!” Jaden said.

“You don’t have one!” 

Chazz walked off, snobbishly laughing up a storm. 

Syrus started to cry loudly. “Oh, Jaden! He’s making fun of us!” he sobbed. 

“Come on, Sy! It’s alright. We’ll get synchro monsters some day…” 

This caused Syrus to sob further. “Oh, why Jaden, why?”

“Now let’s get to gettin’ otherwise we’ll be late!” Jaden grabbed Syrus’ hand and ran towards the classroom. 

Syrus was still sniffling by the time Dr. Crowler got ready to start teaching. 

Crowler smiled. ‘It seems the students forgot about my little mishap yesterday. That was a close one for sure! They nearly figured out about the Duel Academy Boys. Now that would be a disaster!”

Class continued as it normally did, but little did Crowler know, almost every student knew about the concert that was going to happen later that day. 

After class, most of the students went behind Obelisk Blue, where the Duel Academy Boys were going to be performing. 

And a couple of minutes after everyone had seated themselves, Crowler arrived. 

A shrill noise caught everyone’s attention. Turns out it was Crowler, who had screamed of anger. His plan was to keep the entire performance to himself, but obviously it didn’t work. 

“Hey, Dr. C!” Jaden said. 

Crowler stomped his foot. “How’d you all know about this?!” he demanded. 

“Well, Dr. Crowler, it’s kinda’ easy when they put up fliers all around,” Hassleberry said.

“But I took all of them down! You shouldn’t have known!” Crowler yelled.

A smug look on Hassleberry’s face made him think otherwise. 

“W-wait, huh?!” he looked around furiously, only to find many posters hung up on the walls.     

Hassleberry chuckled and then bursted out laughing, followed by many others.

It was then that Crowler left, stomping his feet and mumbling something.

Chazz, who was of the many people who laughed at Crowler’s outburst, closed his eyes and turned around. “What a loser.” 

The Duel Academy Boys arrived about a minute later to set up their equipment. 

Jaden sighed as he stretched out by his seat next to Syrus, who couldn’t shake the feeling that something… strange was going to happen. 

Jaden smiled. “Another typical day at Duel Academy.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thus concludes chapter 3.

Not to give anything away, but... next chapter it gets good!

And for those of you who may be wandering "who are the duel academy boys?" if any of you remember that episode in GX where everybody turns into duel ghouls and there are those three guys who pop out of the lockers or whatever and like sing something? That's who they are. I created the concept when i was naming music disks in Minecraft, (oh, do i have some great stories about minecraft) and that occurred to me. so there's the lore behind that.

But anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

[pixeldistractions]

intermission: cleaning out the pipes

You get paid to unclog the toilet, not to ask what clogged it up in the first place. Try not to look. You really don’t want to know what’s in there.

Jordan never went to college himself. Having little experience about what goes on in these college dorms, he just assumed those wild college frat house movies were far-fetched. But then he hears giggles and moans from the room next door, and he wonders how terribly authentic they might be.

Excuse me, you’re doing what?!? With how many boys?!? Quiet little Melissa Fortney from Lakeside Heights? Shy bug girl who had a crush on Beau Jackson and only first learned about sex from Summer Phoenix at the cafeteria lunch table freshman year???

It’s always the quiet ones, isn’t it?

“We’re just messing around,” she says. “Nothing serious.”

Also, panties collection! 😱😆☠️

Jordan hurries downstairs to work on the dorm kitchen instead. Surely nobody is having sex in the kitchen. Surely! Right? Surely he can finish his work unnoticed. Right?

While there’s nothing obscene happening in this kitchen, yet, Delphie Deppiesse is utterly awestruck. She’s harmless, no worries. Valedictorian of her high school class and certified kindness ambassador, her thoughts are chaste, mostly. But she is overwhelmed with the desire to give this man everything he needs… except the space to do his work.

“Hi, we really appreciate your work here. Oh, I bet it’s really hard. (Delphie is far too virginal to even snicker over her use of the word “hard.”) Can I get you a cup of coffee? Can I hold your wrench? I’m eighteen now, by the way, in case you were wondering.”

Jordan wasn’t wondering. At all.

“Excuse me, um, don’t step in that puddle. I’m not insured for student deaths, I don’t think.”

Melissa joins Delphie in her admiration party, still smelling of saliva and other unmentionable fluids because she couldn’t have had the time for even a quick shower.

Didn’t you get your fill upstairs? we might ask.

Hardly, she thinks. Those college boys don’t really know what they’re doing. Melissa has a taste for older men. Men who know how to use their hands. Case in point: Hudson.

Somewhere in a far-off land called their fevered girlish imaginations, a scene unfolds:

His shirt, a size too small, pulls tight across his shoulders and biceps. The shirt is missing a few too many buttons. Torn buttons, actually, destroyed in a fit of passion, revealing a peek of chest hair and begging to be torn the whole way down to reveal the endless wonders beneath.

“Mmm, is that a wrench in your pocket, or are you happy to see me?” the girls ask.

And he says, “I couldn’t leave without making sure everybody’s pipes were cleaned.”

“Whew,” Melissa swoons, “I gotta go write something down.”

“Wait,” Delphie says, “Can I read it?”

So the girls run off upstairs to write a smutty fic and post it on Pillowfort where it will become viral for a few hours, and a small corner of the internet will simultaneously pleasure themselves over visions of a rugged blond plumber.

Finally, Jordan is left to finish his work day in peace, slightly scandalized, thinking, “Two-thousand dollars… two-thousand dollars… two-thousand dollars…”

Until Austin emerges from where he was watching, astounded at how thirsty those girls got over some overalls and a tool belt. And how many chicks could he score with a Halloween costume like that!?!

“Dude, can I, like, buy your outfit?” Austin asks. “I’ll give you twenty bucks for it? Twenty bucks! Man, come on!”

The clock strikes five and it’s clean-up time.

Go home, Jordan. We won’t judge you if you want to run.

Next -> // 5.2 start // index

[normal-about-boys]

Hey there! Me again! ;3

I Hope i don't annoy you already

I have actually a Lot of ideas but i Don't want to overwhelm you so i will wait from time to time to do requests.

Anyway! My request!

How would the Papys react to a Datemate that Like, Takes Care of Their Younger siblings? They are Like 6 to 10, you can choose What works best. Be it due to parents absents, passed away or neglect, you can choose!

Would They Try to get on the Younger siblings good side? Who Would Try to be a Brother/Dad Figur?

I gotta know! 🤩

don't worry! Feel free to ask me as many questions as you want! Makes my job easier, I don't have to come up with the ideas myself/j

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cinnamon: oh he is STOKED! A two in one combo???? Datemate AND little sibling??? He always wanted to be an older brother!

Now, he got his perception of an older brother from sans. And that means he is going to prank the shit outta your little sibling. He also spoils the hell Outta them, but that's a him thing. Your little sibling is going to get so many toys you won't have room for them.

Carnation: Now, it's not that he doesn't like kids, he's fine with them, it's just that they are so fragile! He really doesn't know what to do with himself when around them that he just kinda freezes.

The bigger thing is that he's worried about you. He knows what happens when someone is parentified, his brother raised him after all. He doesn't want you to get the same burnout he sees in his brother every day. Basically, if his partner is raising their sibling he becomes a big worry-wart.

Honey: honey is great with kids! Not in an older brother or dad way, but in an older cousin way. You are going to have to be careful when you let him babysit because they have learned new swear words. And the FNAF lore.

He's too lazy to do activities with them like cinnamon, but he'll still hang out with them. Let them play video games with him and such, it's really sweet.

Jam: Jam is the only one that can't so kids. He's already really nervous about adults, he can't handle being around someone where a few words could traumatize them [in his head at least]

He'd end up having panic attacks around your little sibling because he's way too scared of messing up. His childhood sucked because of adults! He's an adult! Thats a child! Sadly, he just can't be around them

Persimmon: Oh persimmon loves kids! He's never really wanted any himself, as he knew he wouldn't be able to handle it. He can barely function himself after all! But if you're raising your sibling he is stepping up!

Persi is going to help out as much as he can! He already does that with you, he doesn't mind having to help a little more. It is a bit of a problem as he'll take too much responsibility than he could handle. Like I said, he struggles himself so he needs a break but he can't take a break because there is a child that needs care! You have to reassure him a lot that you can do some things yourself and he should worry about his own health.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Whew! This was kinda hard. This stuff is mostly self indulgent and I never really want kids so I've never thought about this before, but it was really fun to imagine! Hope you like it :D

[not-goldy]

Oh boy. I just got one question and I'm being dead ass serious. Not even joking. Is it mutual? Cause if so, I have major questions right now. He sure seems to think its mutual, cause once again he's saying he's back to those feelings and once again asking his friend to let him out of the Friendzone one and for all. Ooooohkay. The title alone was a jumpscare, a deliberate choice, now the lyrics. It all seems too easy to connect, but subtlety has also never been this man's thing, ever. Blunt more like it. Anyways, I'm way too into my overthinking today, to deal. I am gonna have to rewatch the video again.

He's more delulu than I am is more like it😩😹😹😹😹

He's out here singing friends to lovers while Jimin thinks they are more of a mystery loving on each other one day, being enemies the next 🤣🤣🤣

Mutual bby boy join the circus 😆

1st off THAT MAN IS FFFFFFFFFFOOOOINE DUUUUUUUMMMMM whew

Like let's not lie he's a gorgeous human being 🥵

Ladies and gays I get it 😌

No need to explain yourselves I get it🤭

Fantasize away😏

Also the song is 🔥 🔥 🔥

It's exactly as it should be. its done what songs do- give us the tickles 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

It's giving Olivia Her Jungkook and Ariana in one song

And I think the meaning is clear. Dude caught feelings for his friend and he wants to be taken out of the friendzone. Such a beautiful tale of friends to lovers fantasies

Which is what we were all thinking it was so another L to those delusional solos and antis who thought we were mad how does it feel to be a clown guys.

Friends don't say words that make Friends feel like more than just Friends- which words sir juseyo 🎤

And sir what do you mean.... who is leading you on cos I know it's not Park Jimin🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Not gonna lie all my Vmin fantasies are coming to life

That emotional entanglement they had going on like two emo lesbians I knew one was bound to catch feelings and it was not going to be Jimin🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Jimin tried that shit with Jungkook and now Jungkook is stuck on him for life😆

Such potent magic.

Now of course it leaves room for speculation as to who this friend he is singing about is but the fact he has a few songs asking what are we? Are you my best friend? And Jimin has a responding song saying we are friends and soulmates and now he's here saying friends don't feel this way let's end the friendship and start something is a bit 😝

I can understand why they didn't want him to sing that song with Jimin the sus level would have been high💀💀💀💀

Imagine thinking he has a boyfriend who went away to ms with his other besties meanwhile dudes just pining here over his best friend 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

The jokes write themselves 🤣