#why does he look so hot standing like that?

[strawberrystepmom]

dante x f!reader. established relationship, light angst with a happy resolution. | wc: 1.9k, reading time: ~7 minutes

“If you go this time, don’t come back. I don’t want you here.”

The words blow through Dante’s memory like a chilly wind, not unlike the one that is sweeping through the nearly deserted city streets tonight. His jacket’s collar is popped over the bottom portion of his face to obscure him from the eyes of anyone who may be looking than it is to fight against the cold, his hot blooded nature coming in handy on nights like these where he has to keep himself warm. 

He’s had a lot of those nights lately and they make him wander the streets aimlessly if he isn’t working. He’d call it a patrol if someone asked but he knows the truth about why he does it.

Your part of the city is a bit nicer than his despite there only being a few blocks separating them. He wanders around looking at nicely kept shop windows, all of which keep normal business hours, closed and locked and tidy. A tidy neighborhood meant for tidy people. He’s sullying this like he does everything else. 

Sighing, he shoves his hands deeper into his jacket pockets and walks toward your apartment complex with his face pointed forward. Seeing his own reflection would only solidify how terrible he feels right now, certain the outside is reflecting the inside which is a mess since you told him you didn’t want to see him again.

Your reasoning makes perfect sense. You aren’t just a warm occasional bed or a nice meal or the owner of the only place that feels like it has light left in it in the entire world, you’re more and you deserve to be treated as such, which is far more than Dante can do for you as he is right now. Unfortunately, he made a promise to you after you first met that he’d always keep you safe, no matter what. 

Dante doesn’t break a promise. Not anymore. 

Punching in your personal code for the door of the apartment building where you reside, he raises a brow curiously noticing you still haven’t changed it. The first time he tried it and he worked would be the last, he promised himself. Then he returned the next night and did it again. And again. And again. And now, weeks later, he’s punching it in without even looking over his shoulder.

0127 - the date of the night the two of you met for the first time. 

Looks like you aren’t quite ready to move on yet yourself. It would be foolish to hope maybe you’ve softened your stance toward a man who doesn’t deserve such grace so he squashes the flame that the number stokes in his heart. 

He takes the narrow, metal stairs two at a time to decrease the chance someone will hear his heavy footsteps and peek out - it is 2 o’clock in the morning after all. There’s no telling what you’ve told your nosy neighbors if you’ve told them anything and he is loath to think that the noise complaints they made about the two of you specifically, about giggling and lovemaking both, continued because you’ve brought someone else into your life. He’d like to think he knows you better than that and you wouldn’t but lonely hearts do crazy things to feel full for even a little while. 

Standing in front of your door, Dante thinks better of this for the first time since he started. What if someone else is in there? Even worse, what if you aren’t home? Will he traverse through the city for the rest of the night to find you? 

Yes, of course he will but thankfully as he reaches for the doorknob, the subtle scent of you drifts around the door. Not in the way all people’s homes kind of smell like them but you, direct from the source. Not arousal, not fear, just you. 

He breathes a sigh of relief and reaches to lift the little placard you keep on your door welcoming guests in, unsticking the spare key from its secret hiding place. He slips it into the lock and it unlatches as always.

You hear it from your bedroom. The locks components slide over one another then you hear the door open quietly. Your guest is attempting to hide the little squeak from the hinges by keeping their foot beneath the bottom one and shutting 

There is one singular person who knows both where the spare key is kept and how to keep the door quiet. Chuckling quietly, you curl into your bedding and shift to lay on your back so that you can watch what’s happening through the open bedroom door. You silently thank whatever is out there, shutting your eyes tightly for a millisecond before footsteps reverberate through your quiet apartment again confirming what you already knew.

Dante. He’s come back.

The footsteps continue for a few moments and stop in the kitchen. You hear the jingle of your keys being swept out of the way on the counter, wondering what he could be reaching for. 

It’s the picture of the two of you on the counter, the one you just took off of the fridge last night. It made you ache to look at while retrieving a glass of water so you pinched it off of the fridge and put it aside. He pinches it in the same way, frowning softly. 

It isn’t too late to turn around and walk out, he thinks. But he came all this way and needs to get a good look at you just to make sure you’re okay. 

Placing the picture down on the counter, he steps as quietly as he can in boots across the wooden floors. He’s held your hand and danced with you through these rooms during happier times and you’ve listened to him talk about his pain freely during the hard ones.

Why does it feel like this may be the last time he ever memorizes himself as a fixture in your place, your life?

Dante’s footsteps still as they approach the edge of the living room that then continues on to your bedroom. The door separating the rooms is rarely closed unless you have someone over and it’s open tonight, as always. He sighs and takes a few more steps, walking past the couch and tipping his head to look over the doorway. 

“I know it’s you.”

Shit. Of all the things he’s thought about since coming here, never once did he think that you may be awake. A more idealistic part of him hoped for it, maybe, but now that it has happened he freezes in his tracks and comes to rest, standing across the room from you. It feels like a world apart.

“I never should have come,” he states simply, coolly though it’s a facade to hide his pounding heart. The possibility that you’ll deny him again races through his head and now that he has been caught doing his nightly ritual, there’s a chance things could end up even worse than they have been lately. It’d be what he deserves.

You let silence linger for a moment, working up your courage to say what you’ve been thinking since that unfortunate evening that ended with him simply nodding and leaving, shutting the door behind him and erasing his presence from your life since.

“And I never should’ve said something that I didn’t mean to you.”

You sigh, using your left index finger to bend the right middle one backward, your eyes glued on the stretch of the digit rather than the only eyes that have ever made you feel seen that look at you across familiar darkness. 

“There’s one place you will always belong, Dante and it’s here.” Nodding, you swallow. “With me.”

He says nothing, statue still in the darkened doorway. The big window in your living room backlights him in shades of late night neon, the reflection of a reddish halo above his snow capped head. A little part of you thinks you’re dreaming, saying all the things you’ve kept to yourself over the difficult few weeks that have passed to an apparition of a man you’d give anything to see again at this point. Perhaps your sanity is the first of those things you’re freely giving yet this feels real. So you keep speaking. 

“And I want you here even if you don’t believe it. Even if you think I’m mean or crazy or you don’t love me…”

The air in the room shifts. 

“Don’t say that.”

His silhouette slips through the door, past the creaky floorboard. 

There are many things in this world that he can tolerate but you doubting his feelings is not one of them. Heavy footsteps ring through the room. Your discarded clothing that should’ve been put in the hamper becomes a victim to muddy boots that should’ve been cast off at the door despite his haste to see you. 

“I love you.”

The words come from the side of the bed, Dante kneeling at the side of it though he’s practically lying across it with how low it rests above the floor. Your eyes finally focus in the darkness, allowing you to clearly make him out for the first time in a while.

He’s as sharp and beautiful as ever yet haunted, dark circles indicating sleepless nights giving him away. Stubble dots his chin and cheeks, your palm graced by its sharpness when you reach out to cup his jaw. Your mouth bunches in on itself, quivering lips hiding while your sniffles give you away. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m such a selfish brat and you don’t deserve it.”

You burst into tears, a sob wracking your body. A balloon of sympathy bursts inside of Dante and he reaches for your hand that rests on his cheek, covering it and weaving his fingers over yours. 

“We all say things we aren’t proud of,” he mutters.

It’s a covert acceptance of your peace offering because he knows you’d overreact to a direct one.  It’s also a plea for you to stop talking badly about yourself. He has been through enough, the last thing he wants is to listen to this, this painful self flagellation. 

“Yeah but I don’t want to be so afraid of losing you it makes me hurt you either.”

You are so precious he cannot even begin to fathom that you see yourself as anything lesser. He smiles softly. 

It’s the first time he’s felt like doing so for weeks.

“Then I’ll just keep reminding you that there’s nothing to be afraid of. There are no monsters that I can’t handle for you.” 

You silently point downward with raised eyebrows, the faintest hint of a smile flickering across a handsome face when he realizes you mean the tiny space just beneath your bed.

“It’d be a little hard for a monster to slip under there but yeah, exactly. Not the ones under your bed.” He raps his knuckles gently against your forehead.  “Not even the ones in your head.” 

You reach up to wrap one of your hands around his fist, warm tears sliding down your cheeks when you close them. The two of you remain like that for a few moments, simply enjoying the warmth of the other's presence. You swallow the lump in your throat and look up at him.

“We aren’t perfect apart but I know we’re perfect together.”

Dante nods, leaning in to press his forehead against yours.

“I can’t help but agree with that.”

[opbnj]

A bit? I don’t think you understand the dynamic here. This guy doesn’t do anything by half, clearly.

You think he got those juicy pecs and bulging stomach from working out “a bit”? From eating “a bit”?

No, of course not. Maybe actually, this could be a useful lesson for a little bitch like you.

Staring at him from across the gym, you’ve clearly got a hard on just from looking at his trimmed hair and big daddy arms, but don’t think Uncle Jack hasn’t noticed. It was his idea for you to come lift together after all, wasn’t it?

You thought you remembered him saying something in the hall this morning, but come to think of it, it’s a little hazy? You remember him grinning a little, and then he turned around—

And then you were in the truck with him on the way there, right? And you asked if you could roll down the window. It must’ve been hot in his old pickup, but that can’t be right because he lifted his arm across to stop you from turning the crank, and you felt his armpit drag across—

Your train of thought snaps off again as Uncle Jack comes to stand before you, his gaze assessing and neutral.

“Still fighting? And I thought you’d want to be daddy’s good boy.”

Good boy? Uncle Jack is not your ahem, “daddy”. But even still, something about the words tickles at the back of your brain. You don’t want to upset him right? If you upset him—what, what will happen again? You can’t quite remember, but the feeling you get just at the thought of it is somehow both bone chilling and…arousing?

“That’s fine little pig. You won’t be so confused soon. Let’s go shower up. Now.”

Without quite thinking about it, your feet carry you behind Jack into the locker room, where three or four other men are going about their day, getting an early morning workout in. Distantly, you wonder about that nickname. Little pig? Why does he call you that again?

“I’m gonna need the room fellas, clear out.” Jack says, voice authoritative yet bored.

The closest man snorts and turns back into his locker, clearly intending on ignoring the order. Jack’s eyes narrow at the disregard the other patrons have displayed.

“That’s fine. I’ve been looking for some extra help around the house anyway.”

Jack’s eyebrow barely twitches as he concentrates, and squats ever so lightly, only just pushing out his magnificent bulbous—

Where did that thought come from? Why are you so fixated on your Uncle Jack’s prodigious—

*blrrrrrrrrrrrrtttt*

Uncle Jack pushes out a dark, wet fart, giving a small shake as it finishes, seemingly pleased with the result of his effort. The smell seems to wash over the room each of the other gymgoers seeming shocked at the display of raw masculine dominance, seeing and hearing it before finally, the smell reaches their nostrils. Each grimaces, then straightens their backs, eyes going dark, faces blank.

Uncle Jack smirks and nods, pleased.

“As I was saying boys, I need the room. Lock up behind you as well.”

The other men chant in unison: “Yes daddy”

“Good little grubs. Here’s an extra hit for the road.”

*blrrrtt*

Jack gives another, smaller blast of malodorous wind as they file past us. You notice at least two of them seem to have wet spots forming on the front of their underwear as they depart in varying states of undress.

Jack turns to face you, as you realize that your treatment will surely be even more disruptive.

“Cmon pup, kneel for me.”

Your instincts tell you to flee, but you limbs twitch to obey, leaving you frozen before him. He sighs.

“Still resisting? That’s fine, these muscles aren’t just for show, though I’m sure they’ve given you more than your fair share of wet dreams runt. I guess you’re gonna need the full wipe.”

Uncle Jack takes the back of your head in one of his catcher’s mitt hands, and pushes you onto your knees. He is swift in lining up your nose directly with his globular, muscular, positively rotund ass.

“You’re gonna be my best slave yet. Once you learn the rules.”

*PLFFFFFFFRRTTT*

A gargantuan fart shoots out with the force of a fastball, and with it goes the last dregs of your resistance. You have become positively fixated on the deep crevasse of his ass, needing to be closer to it.

You rip down his loose sweat pants and shove your head up behind his flannel, tongue stretching out to his crack as he shoots out blast after blast of noxious heavenly farts onto your submitting tongue.

“There we go, now we remember don’t you slave? Let’s reward some good behavior. Kiss my hole little pig.”

Without hesitation, you spread out his meaty, sweaty cheeks and attach your lips directly to his farting asshole, prepared to lick inside.

Your earlier confusion is forgotten. Why would you be confused? Master Jack knows best. He will be obeyed. You will work hard to do exactly as he says.

Jack flexes his arms above you, wafting out an extra layer of stink from his manly armpits. The hurricane of musk has not slowed from his perfect farting hole.

“Come on little pig, let daddy tell you how to be a real man. If you’re really good, you can suck on my man tits will I blow away some of our news houseboys. But in the meantime, my cock needs some attention.”

The words register in your mind only after your body has scrambled to his front, your mouth wrapping around his gigantic stinking cock, tongue laving over its head. And even then, your only thought is “I need to be really good.”

Back to the gym after a successful 2 week holiday stuffing

[b1eedthefreak]

Heyyy ily and your work!!

Wanted to ask if you could possibly do a fic about reader who isn’t really bothered by the whole modesty deal. Like she changes right infront of Daryl one night like full tits and or ass out facing him and reader acts so casual about it even though Daryl and reader are “just friends”?????

Can be smut or fluff or both !

<333

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. Made You Look

⌇daryl dixon x reader

⌇summary: you casually undress infront of daryl not thinking anything of it, but he does

⌇warnings: reader takes her bra off in front of daryl (not sexually), that’s all it’s really just fluff

⌇word count: 0.6k

a/n thank you for your request anon! i hope you like it :) ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

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You didn’t mean to do it to him.

The two of you had been clearing out the east wing, another supply run through the abandoned cells. Nothing but the smell of dust and old sweat hanging in the air. You were hot, you were tired, and your shirt had long overstayed its welcome.

So you peeled it off.

No ceremony. No sultry glances. Just a girl standing in a dim hallway tugging off her sweat soaked top and tossing it aside while rummaging for a clean one.

You didn’t expect a reaction. Daryl was busy, anyway, sitting against the wall, cleaning out the blood crusted into his hunting knife. Focused. Quiet. Classic Daryl.

You stood in your sports bra for a while, just breathing easier, arms stretched over your head, not thinking twice about it. Not until you turned your back to your pack and unclipped the bra too because why not? You were putting a clean shirt on in a second, and it wasn’t like Daryl gave a shit.

Except he did.

Because the moment he looked up, just as he set his knife down on his thigh and turned to ask you something, he got a full view of you. Completely topless. Right there. No shame, no flinch, no apology.

Daryl spun back around so fast he nearly knocked his bow over.

“Damn it girl—!” His voice was sharp, low, somewhere between exasperated and strangled. “Will you ever give me a goddamn warnin’?”

You blinked, unfazed. “What for?”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “Jesus.”

You stepped into his peripheral vision again, pulling your clean shirt over your head slowly. “I didn’t think it’d bother you.”

He didn’t look at you. Not directly. Just stared at the opposite wall like it was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. “Ain’t that it bothers me. It’s just…”

You waited, arms crossed. “It’s just what?”

He mumbled something.

You took a step closer. “Didn’t catch that.”

Daryl exhaled. “It’s just you.”

That made you smile. You dropped down beside him, shoulder bumping into his. “So if it was Carol, you wouldn’t care?”

He shot you a dry look. “Carol’d never do that.”

“And if she did?”

He didn’t answer. But the way his jaw clenched told you everything.

You leaned back, casually stretching your legs out in front of you. “You know, I really don’t mind you looking.” You said teasing him.

His eyes snapped to yours, finally, fully, and you could see the storm behind them.

“I wasn’t lookin’.”

“Mhm.”

You grinned wide. “If you weren’t lookin’, how come you keep glancing over?”

Daryl’s lips twitched like he was trying not to smile, but his eyes stayed fixed on some invisible spot on the floor. “Maybe I’m just makin’ sure you ain’t ‘bout to walk around half-naked all day.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a problem with me bein’ comfortable,” you teased, stretching out your arms like you owned the place.

He finally looked up, his eyes locking on yours with that guarded, sideways glance he reserved for when he was trying to act serious but failing miserably. “Ain’t a problem,” he said gruffly. “Just sayin’, give a man a warnin’ next time, thas all.”

You laughed, stepping closer so your shoulder bumped his. “Warn you? What, like a little heads up before I drop the top? You want me to knock first?”

He gave you a flat look, but there was something soft in it.

You grinned, “Maybe I just like messin’ with you.”

Daryl shook his head, but he wasn’t mad. Not really. “You’re somethin’ else.”

“Yeah? I’m somethin’ you can’t handle.”

His grin was crooked now, slow and sure. “Maybe I don’t wanna handle it.”

You threw your head back and laughed, the sound echoing off the cold prison walls.

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[kryannoy]

CAN YOU FIX MY HAIR?

genre: fluff, sfw

characters: suo x reader

summary: he asks you to fix his hair after a fight because "his hands hurt from punching."

Huge smile on his face when he asks you that because he knows you'll do it anyways even if he gives a petty excuse of his hands hurt. You know they aren't.

What makes his teasing even worse—or better—is he doesn't bend down for you.

He simply stood tall, hands behind his back, and you have to make the effort to stand on your tippy toes to reach up his hair.

You fix his hair while grumbling he should bend a little to match your height but he would say that he doesn't want to with a closed eye smile like he had done nothing wrong.

To further his teasing, because you're so vulnerable right now, he wraps his arms around your unguarded waist and pulls you closer.

Your eyes widen and your cheeks become hot. You look up at his face and he seems unfazed, of course, it's Suo we're talking about.

You quickly finish up with his hair before gently pushing him away because you're getting embarrassed.

Why? Because he does all this literally right in front of all the guys he just beat up that are now lying on the ground, some unconscious, some groaning in pain.

It made you even more shy when you saw the sudden change of Suo's look. His eye darken, like he was thinking of something else.

He wouldn't let go until you hit his chest a few times while hiding your face. Not unless he gave a chuckle and threw in a "You're so cute," and finally released you.

Pats your head and intertwines his fingers with yours and says "Thank you. Now come on, let's eat at a different place."

Finally bends down just to peck you on the cheek.

Oh, you know he's doing this on purpose and it irritates both in a good way and a bad way.

Good way because you know he loves you, but in a bad way because he's teasing you for his entertainment.

And because he's so confident about it that it's hard to get him back.

[offbrandkyoya]

Hi! I found out about your Scaramouche smau a few days ago and I love it really much it’s a masterpiece <3 Idk if you would take requests about, if you do I thought it’d be cute to think that they have 2 sons that one is just like Scara and the other one is like Y/N, how the couple would deal with them🫶

It Takes Two! - Scaramouche (genshin)

continuation of the smau where you and scaramouche have kids now! what can go wrong???

contents: angst (sorry), smau pt2 but also it’s not a smau but it’s part of the smau, children being children, (M/D) is like mommy or daddy whatever u perfer gang, my notes app lagged sm as I wrote this, hot dilf, albedo mention, proofread to an extent, happy ending, GIVE SCARAMOUCHE A CHILD.

word count: like..6k……….

a/n: FINALLY it’s OVER 😭😭😭😭😭😭 I just had sm ideas for this and idek if it turned out well 💔 so if it feels rushed at the end I’m sorry……..it does make me happy that ppl love this smau so much because I rlly liked scarayn’s relationship. tbh fun fact: there WAS gonna be a timeskip where they end up having kids but idk I didn’t know if anyone would want that. enough yapping TYSM and again sorry this took like centuries.

It’s crazy to think that people are right about kids turning out exactly like their parents.

‘It’s part of the genetics.’ Aether told you once. You didn’t believe it entirely. You understood when it came to looks, but personality? No way! You found that incredibly silly. Scaramouche didn’t believe it either. He thought it was dumb and that it’s all in people’s heads.

That’s until you two had your own.

You have two boys, Sora and Ren. Sora is the oldest, 4 years old, while Ren is the youngest, 3 years old. Sora is a lot like you; it is insane. He’s quite bold and boisterous. He even inherited your interest in painting. He loves painting the walls despite you and Scaramouche scolding him about it. Sora is completely optimistic, but your favorite characteristic about him is that he follows his dad around the house like a duckling.

Ren, on the other hand, is a lot like Scaramouche. Quiet and socially awkward. He’s pretty moody at times too and doesn’t like being told what to do. When Ren was born, he had a huge attachment towards you and hated whenever Scaramouche would hold him. Honestly, he hates it now and prefers you over him any day.

What’s funny is he looks like his dad. The boys both do, but Sora inherited more of your facial features.

You love them, but there are times when they’re a bit difficult to handle.

Sora had his first field trip at school. He was so excited, yapping about it to his dad as they drove home. When they arrive, he runs straight to you, showing off the slip. You took the paper and read the contents on it. “A trip to the zoo? Sounds fun!” “It is fun!” He says, “Can I go?”

You smile with a giggle. “Of course you can go.” “Yay!” Scaramouche stands next to you, glancing over to read the paper. “Can you come too?” Sora asks innocently. “Hmm…” You look at your husband. “I don’t see the problem with it.” Scaramouche hums, “You’re not going to be missing much at home.” You looked back at your son. “I’ll go.” Sora jumps up and down ecstatically. “Yay! Yay! Yay!”

You both smiled at your son’s excitement until Ren began to shout, “I want to go too!” Sora shakes his head. “You can’t!” “Why?!” “Because you’re not in kindergarten.” He states matter-of-factly. Ren puffs up his cheeks. “That’s not fair!” He started tearing up, and you quickly scooped him in your arms to calm him down.

“It’s okay, Ren. You and Daddy can have fun while we’re gone.” Ren stares at you unimpressed before he hides his face in your shirt, wiping his tears away. You sigh and pat his back. “Sora, don’t be mean to your brother.” Scaramouche says, and Sora gasps, “I wasn’t!”

After Ren calmed down, you all began to eat dinner, and the focus on the trip completely changed to something else.

As the boys were getting ready for bed, Sora hands you the slip. “Sign it so I can be the first to turn it in!” You laughed, “Okay.” You kiss his forehead. “Goodnight.” “Goodnight.” You walk to the other side where Ren slept, and you can tell he’s still upset about what happened.

You sit down on the edge, moving his bangs away. “It’s okay.” You tell him, but he doesn’t say anything. You kiss his forehead. “You can have more fun while we’re gone.” “But I want to be with you.” “Don’t you like Daddy?” He nods slowly. “He’s no fun, though.” You snort before clearing your throat. “He can be. Just ask him what you want, and he’ll say yes.”

“Are you sure?” He asks in disbelief. “I’m sure. I’m always right!” You exclaim, and he laughs a little. “Okay, time for bed. Goodnight, Ren.” “Goodnight.”

You turn on the nightlight and head out to your room. Once you enter, Scaramouche is already there dozing off. You chuckle before crawling right next to him. “Hey, sleepyhead.” He raises a brow before opening his eyes to you. “You took your time.” “Oh, shut up.” He shifts his body to face you, rests his head on your shoulder, and watches you sign the permission slip.

“What will you guys do when we’re gone?” You ask him, and he shrugs. “Maybe go get ice cream or something.” “Wow, dad of the year.” “Shut up!” Scaramouche sighs, “He doesn’t like anything I do. He practically hates me.” “Hey,” You put the paper down on your nightstand and turn your whole body towards him. “Don’t say that; he likes you.” Scaramouche sits up. “I don’t know.” “He does.” You place a hand on his arm.

“What makes you think he hates you?” “Maybe because he clings onto you almost every day? When I pick him up from daycare, he never wants to talk to me.” You frowned, “Scara, you should try.” “I do try! He’s not like Sora! Sora can handle a conversation easily, but Ren…Ren will just look at me like I’m stupid.”

Scaramouche suddenly looks down, gripping his hands tightly. “Ren is a lot like me, and I don’t want him to grow up like how I did… I want him to turn out perfect.” You cup his face, forcing him to look at you. “Ren is perfect, just the way he is. I know you’re scared, but we’re in this together. You’re…you’re not like your mom, remember that.” Scaramouche blushes and nods.

You kiss him before letting go. “Let’s get some rest, okay?” “Okay.”

After a few weeks, it was time for Sora's field trip.

“Hurry up, M/D!!! We’re going to be late!” Sora shouts, jumping up and down by the door. You roll your eyes playfully, “It’s okay, baby. We’re not going to be late, I promise.” He huffs in response.

Scaramouche carries Ren as they stand by the door next to Sora. “You got everything?” Your husband asks, and you nod. “Sora, be good.” He tells him, and Sora nods, “I will!” Scaramouche smiles and kneels down to kiss his forehead. He gets back up and kisses you. “Be careful.” You smiled, “I will.” You turn to Ren and kiss his cheek. “Have fun and be good at daycare.”

Ren nods, nuzzling his dad’s neck. You and Sora say more goodbyes before exiting the house and getting in the car to head to school. Now, it was just Scaramouche and Ren.

“Okay, it’s time for you to get ready for daycare.” Scaramouche tells his son, but he didn’t give a response and simply stared at him. Scaramouche sighs a little before heading to his bedroom.

You and Sora successfully made it, and it made you so happy seeing your son excited for the trip. After the teacher talked to the class and chaperones, you all headed inside the bus, and Sora sat with you.

However, you couldn’t help but worry about your husband and baby being alone for the day. You suck it up, though, because Scaramouche is a good dad! He will be just fine! You hope. You sigh, staring at your phone. Sora, who was staring out the window, tugs on your sleeve rapidly. “M/D, look!” He taps on the glass, and you grab his hand to stop it.

“Sora, don’t do that.” He pouts, crossing his arms. You ruffle his hair. “What was it that you wanted to show me?” “Nothing.” Your brows furrowed, “Surely, it was something.” “It was nothing!” He screeched before looking the other way. You huff and then smirk. “Well…okay…” You begin, turning the other way with a solemn expression. “I’m sure Daddy and Ren would’ve loved to know what you saw…”

From the corner of your eye, you see him stiffen up. You snort before clearing your throat to continue with a sigh. “A shame, really…and here I thought they’d like to know your adventures.” Sora quickly turns to you and clutches onto your arms. “No! I want to tell Daddy and Ren everything I see!!” You laugh as he shakes you after every word he says.

“Alright, alright.” You squish his face before combing his hair. “No more tantrums.” He pouts, and you place a kiss on his forehead. “You can get in trouble tapping the windows like that.” Sora continues to pout, but he nods in understanding. “I don’t want to get in trouble…” “You won’t be if you continue. Can you promise me you’ll be on your best behavior?” He nods, which makes you nod too.

“Good boy.” You pull him in a tight hug, and he laughs. “M/D, you’re squeezing me!!!!!!” “I can’t help it! I just love you so much!” You continue to hug him as he squirms under your hold. You love moments like these.

You just wish Scaramouche was here to see it.

Speaking of…

Scaramouche lounged on the sofa, watching TV. It’s been hours since you and your son left, along with dropping off Ren at daycare. He feels bored and a little bit lonely. Who is he kidding? He misses his family a lot. You won’t return till the end of the day. When the boys are at school, you two get to spend some quality time together, be it cuddling in bed, cooking, watching movies, or even other things a bit more intense.

Scaramouche squished his red face. “I miss them…” He whispered to seemingly no one. He glances at the clock and realizes it was time to pick up Ren from daycare.

Scaramouche gets up, turns off the TV, gathers his keys, and heads right out the door. Entering the car, he thinks of things to do with Ren while they wait for you and Sora.

He tries to think about what Aether does with his own child, but he doesn’t want to seem like a copycat. Sighing, Scaramouche continues to ponder what fun events to do.

When arriving, he can see his son standing by the teacher with quite a sad expression. His heart aches, and Scaramouche just wants to get him out of there. Scaramouche gets out, and once he walks closer, Ren runs right to him, hugging his right leg for dear life.

“Ren? What’s wrong?” Scaramouche rubs the top of his head as a source of comfort for the boy. Then, the teacher walks up to him. “Scaramouche, there is something I’d like to speak with you about.” “I’m sorry?”

She smiles softly, “It’s about Ren. It’s nothing bad, I promise you! I’d like it if we discussed it in private.” Upon hearing those words, Ren shakes his head rapidly, refusing to let go of his father. The teacher takes notice of this and then clears her throat. “Ren, dear, you’re not in trouble. You don’t need to be afraid.”

Ren didn’t care; he didn’t bother to look at the woman. Scaramouche looks at him, then at her. “We can discuss it here.” “Are you sure?” “Well, if it’s so important, you can say it here. Like you said, my son isn’t in trouble.” “Ah, well…” Scaramouche glares at her, and she stiffens a little.

“Okay, it’s just, I’m worried that Ren is a little behind.” Scaramouche blinks in surprise. “Behind?” “Yes, he isn’t quite open to the other kids his age, and he rarely speaks. He also never wants to do activities, and it’s gotten worse today. I worry that he’ll be alone as he gets older.”

Scaramouche scrunched his nose. “Wait, what do you mean it got worse?” She takes in a breath. “Well, he caused a scene. Another kid wanted to play with him, but he got upset, started crying hysterically, and shoved the poor boy. I tried to calm him down, but he wasn’t cooperative.”

Scaramouche looks down at his son. “Ren.” The boy didn’t look at him. “He began throwing stuff, and…he wouldn’t stop crying until I moved him somewhere else where he could be by himself…” Scaramouche sighs, “Ren, look at me.” He doesn’t and just buried his face even more. Scaramouche looks back at the woman and bows a little. “I’m sorry about his behavior. I’ll talk to him.” “Thank you.”

There was no denying that the car ride was eerily silent.

When they arrived home, Ren ran straight to his room. “Ren!” Scaramouche calls out. He follows right after and enters the child’s room, seeing him curled up in a ball under his blanket.

“Ren.” Scaramouche sits on the edge of the bed, shaking him a little. “Ren, you shouldn’t have done that.” He tells him. “It’s not right to throw things or hit people.” Ren still doesn’t respond, which upsets Scaramouche a little. “Ren, you can’t act like that; that’s not right. You need to be good and give the teacher an easy time. You have to listen to her and do what she says.”

Scaramouche still wasn’t getting a response. With furrowed brows he asks, “Are you even listening? You need to be polite and respectful. Your brother didn’t act like that when he went. M/D would be upset if they were here.” Suddenly, Ren pops his head out, tears were streaming down his face, and he screams. “YOU’RE NOT M/D!!!!”

Scaramouche looks at him in shock. “I WANT M/D!!” Ren screams again, choking on his sobs. Scaramouche tries to calm him down by reaching out, but Ren turns away. “When’s M/D coming home?” He whimpers. “I want M/D.” He cries and cries. “I WANT M/D, NOT YOU!!”

Then, something snapped in Scaramouche. “They’re not coming till later, remember? You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not! You don’t want to listen? Fine! But I’m still telling them what you did!” Ren hides away again, infuriating Scaramouche even more. “Ren! Don’t hide from me!” Ren’s cries turned into hysteric screams, so Scaramouche stands up and heads to the door.

“Continue to act like that! You’re only embarrassing yourself! All you needed to do was apologize, and that was it!” “I HATE YOU!” Ren screams, and his grip on the doorknob tightens. “Keep crying. Maybe M/D will come back faster.” Then, he exits, slamming the door shut in the process.

Scaramouche leans back, his head dropped down. ‘Why did I say that?’ He asks himself. ‘Why did I do that? Why? Why? Why?’

Scaramouche slowly walks to his bedroom, sits on the edge, and continues to stare down at the floor. His son was crying, and all he did was scold him. He’s just a boy; he didn’t need all of that harshness. Scaramouche’s eyes water, and he covers his face.

“I wish Y/N were here…”

The field trip was going great.

You took so many pictures of your adorable son and his group. The zoo is such a common place, but Sora was still mesmerized by everything.

You all reunited for lunchtime, and you sat with your groups. The tables were long, so another group along with a parent sat with you all across. You listened to Sora chat with his friends while eating. You sent a text to your husband that things were going well and went back to eating.

You noticed that you had finished your juice box before your sandwich and decided to get some more from the teacher, who had supplied extra snacks just in case. You stood up and turned to Sora. “I’m getting more juice; want some?” He nods excitedly, “Yes!”

You giggle and go to the teacher to kindly ask for more refreshments. She nodded, saying, “Oh, of course!” She hands you the juice boxes, and you gladly thank her. Suddenly, you hear a loud, “NO!” Almost everyone in the class turned to the direction the noise came from.

It turns out it was your table.

You rush over and see one of the kids in tears with his mother hugging him tight. “What’s going on?” You ask, standing next to your own son. You noticed that the mother was glaring at your kid before looking at you. “Your son here can’t keep his hands to himself!” “What?” Sora immediately looks at you. “He started it first!”

The mom shakes her head. “You need to teach him some discipline! He hit my kid!!” You frowned and crossed your arms. “Sora, how could you?” Sora tears up too. “I told you, he did it first!” “Excuses!” She screams. “My son didn’t raise a finger at him at all!!” The teacher comes over and tries to calm the situation down before it escalates.

In the end, Sora had to apologize, and you did as well.

“Sora,” You spoke firmly. He didn’t look at you. It’s clear he was upset that you didn’t take his side. Before you could say anything else, it was time for the groups to go on their last stroll before leaving.

Your group went far from where the other boys were since the teacher thought it’d be best.

You watched your kids observe the giraffes with a guide explaining some facts about them. You decided to take a quick step back to call Scaramouche. He hasn’t responded, so you were quite worried. So, you called him, awaiting his response. He picked it up, and you let out a sigh of relief. “Scara! Hi honey, I just wanted to check on you! How are my favorite boys doing?”

There was silence. “Scara? Is everything okay?” “No.” The way he responded made your heart break. He sounded so defeated. “Babe, what’s wrong?” “Ren did something at daycare today.” “Oh, what did he do?” “He threw a tantrum.”

You raised a brow. “Well, he is a kid. It’s quite normal. There’s no need to stress about it!” “No.” “No?” You tilt your head. “The teacher told me he was throwing things and he wouldn’t stop crying. She said he’s never cooperative and always alone. He doesn’t want to be with the other kids. He doesn’t even talk!”

You frowned, “Scara-“ “So she told me to talk to him about it, and I tried! I tried to, but he kept shutting me out! He hid from me and started crying so hard, and he wouldn’t even talk to me!” You decided to let him continue venting out his frustrations. “He kept crying and crying, and I tried talking to him, but he wasn’t responding, and it was pissing me off! After all that, he told me he didn’t even want me, that he wants you. He kept asking for you and didn’t care about the shit I had to say! He didn’t even care that I was there instead of you! And…”

Scaramouche started to quiet down. “And…?” You repeat. “Yn, I yelled at him. I…I can’t believe I did that. All I did was make things worse.” You can hear the slight crack in his voice. “I’m so bad at this parent thing compared to you. Ren doesn’t like me because I’m so angry and dry all the time. I’m not gentle at all. I’m not even patient either!”

You furrow your brows. “Hey, don’t say that. Scara, raising a kid is stressful.” “But you make it so easy. My mom never wanted me, so it makes sense why my own son doesn’t either.” “Scaramouche!” You raise your voice a bit. “Ren does love you! He has a hard time expressing it, sure, but he’s just a baby. Our baby. You said he got in trouble, right? He was probably scared about the situation and got overwhelmed. We say things we don’t mean, and I’m positive Ren didn’t mean to say that.”

“…Are you sure?” You sigh, “Yes, I’m sure. I mean, you said stuff to him too, didn’t you?” “Yeah.” “See? Scaramouche, I know how much you love our boys. Remember when Ren was born and I was so exhausted that you took care of him instead? He cried so much at night, and you managed to get him to sleep quicker than I could!”

“That was just luck…” “Or it’s because he loves you. How about that?” Scaramouche didn’t say anything. “I think you should just give him his space for a bit before talking to him again. Kids say things they don’t mean. They learn from us sometimes, which means we need to grow too. Don’t give up, okay? I don’t want you becoming a deadbeat dad.”

You hear Scaramouche choke on his own spit before replying. “I’m not going to do that!!” You smirk, “I don’t know… sounds like you’re abandoning me…” “Yn, you know damn well.” You laugh, receiving a sigh from him.

“You know I love you!” “Yeah, okay.” “Hey! Scaramouche chuckles. “I…I miss you.” You blushed but smiled. “I miss you too. We’ll be home soon.” “Get home faster.” You roll your eyes playfully, then look back at your group of kids. Immediately, you noticed Sora wasn’t there as you counted heads.

“Yn?” “Sora’s gone.” You blurt out. “What? What do you mean he’s gone?” “I-I mean, he’s gone! He’s not with the others!” You rush to the guide, “Excuse me, have you seen where my son went?” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t see a child leave.” The other kids look at you, then look at each other, also trying to see if they can find Sora with them.

“Sora’s not here!” A girl screams, making the other kids panic. “Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.” “Yn, relax.” Scaramouche tells you. “H-He was right there! Why, how?! I only looked away for a minute, I swear!” “It’s okay, Yn. Take a deep breath.”

You scan around, then look at the children. “Stay here with the nice zoo man, okay?” “Where’s Sora?” One of his friends asks. “He must’ve gone to the bathroom.” The guide says, trying to lighten the situation. You nod, “Yes, everyone stay here, okay? Don’t run off.”

You head in the direction where the bathrooms are. “Scara, I’ll call you later. I need to focus!” “Okay, let me know when you find Sora.” “I will. I love you.” “I love you too.” You hang up and run endlessly around the zoo. The fear of your son possibly getting kidnapped was on your mind. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if that happened. You check the bathrooms, “Sora?!” You shout. “Sora, baby, are you here?!” There was no response, so you rush out. “Sora! Sora!!” You scream.

You ran inside the merchandise store, completely sweating and in panic. The more time you spent wandering around, the more your fears increased. The horror of finding out your son is nowhere to be found and gone for good is something you don’t want to be true.

You asked every person you saw, but they knew nothing. You rush out again with your heart pounding faster and faster as time passes. Suddenly, your gut was telling you to search the ice cream shop that was right next to where the school ate.

You didn’t hesitate to trust it and ran right to that location. Then, you saw Sora, and you couldn’t help but feel tears coming. Before you can even call to him, you notice a pair of grown women standing next to him, and it was clear Sora was uncomfortable.

Your parental instincts instantly turned on, and you stood right in front of your boy, your arms spread out to protect him. Feeling his hands clutch onto your legs, you knew these ladies were about to get a scolding of their lifetime.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You spat. “Nothing! Who are you?” Said one, her hands on her hips, accusing you of being the culprit. You scrunched your nose, “I’m his parent.” The woman’s eyes grow wide. “So I’m asking you again, what were you doing?” “We were only worried about the fact that he was alone!!” Said the other, but it’s clear that it was just a petty excuse.

“Really?” “Yes, really!!” Then, Sora shouted, “They were asking about Daddy!” You looked at him in surprise. “What?” He nods, “They said mean things like how he ruined Uncle Aether and everyone!” Sora points at them, “They said Daddy was a bad singer! That he’s poor! We’re not poor! They said I was going to grow up to be lazy like him!!!”

Your eye twitched, blocking out the dumb statements those women were saying to defend themselves. There was no doubt that many fans were disappointed with the group's disbanding, painting the blame on Scaramouche and you too. However, you didn’t give a damn about the crap thrown at you. No one badmouths your husband, let alone says all of that to his 5-year-old son, who was trying to have a good time with his friends.

Your hand made a fist. “I advise you both to apologize right now.” Then, one of them said something that really struck. “He’s twisting our words! There’s no way you believe him!!” It was so fast that once she finished, her face was already turned to the other side.

Her friend gasps, seeing the red mark beginning to show on the girl's cheek. Sora looks at you with marveled eyes as you glare at the grown women. “Don’t even think about criticizing my own child, or I will rip your teeth out.” They try to say something, but you cut them off. “That’s my husband you’re making fun of, and I don’t think Aether and the rest would be very happy knowing their ‘fans’ are tormenting a little kid.”

Then, the girls flee, looking back occasionally to see you still glaring. Once out of sight, you begin to sigh and kneel down to hug your son. “Oh, Sora! I was so worried! Are you okay?!” You cup his face, checking to see if they did even more damage. He shook his head. “Yeah, I’m sorry for running off…” You plant a kiss on his forehead. “I couldn’t care less about that right now. I’m so glad you’re safe.” You hug him again, and he hugs back too.

“Let’s go back to the others.” You say, standing up and holding his hand, but he wouldn’t budge. “Sora?” He pouts a little. “Um…I want to say something, but what if you get mad?” You frowned and kneeled down again. “I won’t be mad.” “Are you sure?” You nod, “I’m sure.” After giving him a big smile, he starts swaying side to side. “Back then, when we were eating, that boy stole some of my lunch.” You furrowed your brows. “What?” “I told him to stop, but his mom was saying that sharing is caring! But I said no!”

He puffs up his cheeks. “You said to always say no to things that���ll make you queasy!” You nod, “I did say that.” “So, I hit him!” You giggle, “I see.” It feels like today these adults were testing your patience. “Let’s go talk some sense to them.” Sora grins, “Okay!” You stand back up and walk to the rest of the group.

The teacher comes running to you guys in worry. “Where were you two?! We were about to start searching!” You bow slightly. “Sorry. Sora and I got a little distracted.” You explain. She lets out a sigh. “Well, as long as you’re okay, then it’s no trouble. We’re about to leave now.”

You nod, then notice that mother that scolded your son. “Excuse me.” You tell the teacher, still holding onto Sora's hand, and you walk towards the mother. She notices your presence and then stares with a disapproving look. “You ought to control your boy. It’s no good wandering off like that.” You squint, “Listen, I don’t need to be told on how to parent.” “It seems you do.”

Your eye twitches. “From my understanding, you need to be taught more than me.” She gasps, “I’m sorry?” “Yes. Sora tells me you pushed your son to keep pestering him even though he said no.” She plants her hands on her hips. “Well, you need to learn to let your son be open.” You mimic her pose. “And you need to learn people’s boundaries.”

You both glare at each other, and then the teacher comes in between. “Please, no fighting. The children are watching!!” “She’s right.” The woman explains. “You’re acting like a—“ “Child?” You tilt your head. “I’m simply acting what a normal parent should act when their son has been wrongly accused of being the bully all because he didn’t share! The reason Sora hit your kid was because you allowed him to keep pushing his buttons just so you could satisfy yourself by thinking you’re a good mom for letting your boy get more snacks when he could’ve simply asked someone else!”

Sora nods while raising a fist. “Yeah!” His friends copy his moves and cheer. “Yeah!!! Go, Sora's parent!!!” The teacher scolds the children before turning back to you all. “If this escalates—“ “Don’t worry.” You say. “I’m done. I don’t have time to deal with incompetent adults.” The mother gasps and you walked to the bus, feeling proud.

“That was so cool!” Sora says once you’ve sat down. You blush, “Thank you.” Then you remembered you had to notify Scaramouche about you finding your son.

“I’m going to call Daddy and say we’re on our way.” He nods, “Okay!”

During the time you were searching for Sora, Scaramouche thought about how to apologize to Ren.

He felt like saying sorry wasn’t enough. With his head in his hands, he beat himself up in his brain on how he should just die in a ditch for what he’s done. He even thinks that if only time travel were real, he could’ve prevented blowing up on his youngest.

Scaramouche gets up and leaves his room. He decided he’ll make a snack for Ren. After all that crying, there’s no doubt he’s hungry. He got that from his dad, after all. He glanced at Ren's door with a frown before going down to the kitchen.

Ren isn’t a picky eater. He’ll eat anything as long as he’s fed or if they’re in cute shapes. He especially loved when his fruits were cut up to make a star. Scaramouche smiles fondly at that fact and begins preparing.

There’s no doubt that knowing Sora is missing prevents him from staying focused, but he tries to push through. ‘Sora will be fine.’ He thinks. ‘Nothing bad is going to happen.’ Scaramouche lets out a shaky breath. “Focus,” he tells himself. He can’t allow himself to get cut because of his carelessness.

But it’s Sora, his first son. It’d be a horrible day if he finds out your spouse couldn’t find him along with Ren never forgiving him.

He shakes his head. ‘Don’t think that way.’

Scaramouche decides to put on some music for a distraction, so he gets out his phone and decides he’ll listen to his own music. It’s been so long that he couldn’t help but cringe at how he sounded back then. Scaramouche hums along, almost like a reflex.

Scaramouche decides to make some sandwiches along with cute-shaped fruits. That’s not all; he’ll cut the sandwiches into hearts, and the fruits, mangos and strawberries, will be stars.

Scaramouche sways to the music and turns behind him. He’d imagine you joining his dance, bumping your hip into his. You’d laugh, and then you’d both hear small footsteps making their way. Sora would grab onto your hands, jumping up and down, pulling you into the middle of the room. Both of you dancing to the music while singing along. Ren would stay by Scaramouche’s legs, watching his parent and brother dance in amazement.

Scaramouche would pick up Ren, earning a laugh out of him, twirling around, and you’d copy his idea. You’d start spinning with Sora, and you’d both clash, laughing even harder.

In the end, Scaramouche would go to kiss you because he’s the happiest man on earth.

Scaramouche sighs, knowing that he fucked up. He glances at the family photo that hangs on the wall in the living room. It was a family photo of when Ren was just a baby. He can’t help but wonder if he deserved all of this.

Scaramouche shakes his head once more and turns back around, finishing up the dish. It really didn’t take long, and he was kind of proud of himself. Of course it didn’t beat your level of cooking, but it’s not bad.

He turns to go to the pantry but stops when he sees Ren's face poking out from the hall. Startled, the boy runs off, and Scaramouche follows. That kid is so fast, though, that Scaramouche frowns when hearing the door slam close.

He goes back to what he was doing and grabs a juice box before walking back to the kitchen. He rips out the straw and punches it into the hole. Scaramouche grabs the plate and juice, then turns forward and jumps, seeing Ren back at his spot.

“Ren!” He says. “You scared me.” He notices his son’s eyes get watery, slowly coming out to stand in front of him, clutching his bunny plushie that Albedo had made for him. Scaramouche places everything back before slowly kneeling to his height. “Ren…” Suddenly the poor boy bursts into tears and runs to hug his father. “Daddy, I’m sorry!” He hiccups, smearing his snot and tears all over his shirt.

“Ren—“ “I don’t hate you!!” He sniffles, and Scaramouche almost immediately feels himself start to cry too. “Ren, don’t say sorry.” He says calmly. He kisses his head while combing his hair. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. It wasn’t nice of me to say all those things to you.”

Ren looks at him with puppy dog eyes. “Are you sure?” The tears flow down Scaramouche’s face. Nothing hurts more than seeing your own child cry. Scaramouche smiles softly, “I’m sure.” He cups his face. “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, and I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He kisses his forehead. “I love you so much. I don’t want you to hate me, and I don’t want you to think that I hate you.”

Ren continues to cry, and Scaramouche hugs him tightly. “I love you, Ren.” Ren hugs him back. “I love you too, Daddy. I’m sorry that I’m not like everyone else.” Scaramouche chuckles, “Don’t say that. To me, you’re perfect.”

Scaramouche looks down at him, and Ren’s head pokes out from his arms, staring at his dad. They smile at each other, with Scaramouche moving his hair away from his face before kissing his cheek. He begins to pet his hair. “Are you hungry?” He asks, and the boy nods.

He carries him with one arm while he walks to grab the food. Then, he walks to the dining table and places the food down. He hands a sandwich to Ren, who gladly begins to eat it. “Is it good?” Ren nods with puffed cheeks. Scaramouche smiles more. “Thank goodness. Is it better than M/D?” Ren stares at him before looking at his sandwich, then back at his dad, and simply takes another bite.

Scaramouche sighs, “I figured.” Ren continues to eat while Scaramouche hands him an occasional fruit. “Star.” Ren points out, and Scaramouche nods, “Yeah, star!” Ren nibbles each end and bites one after the other. “Are you thirsty?” Ren nods, and Scaramouche goes to the counter and hands him his juice box.

Ren takes a sip, then takes another bite, then another sip. “Don’t you want to sit down?” Ren shakes his head. “It’s comfy here.” Scaramouche laughs, “Okay.”

With both journeys coming to an end, there was nothing more than wanting to hit the hay.

Once Ren finished eating, the two sat on the couch watching a movie. And as it was about to end, you and Sora had walked in the home. “We’re home.” You say, but you didn’t get a response. You notice your husband’s head poking out from behind the couch and walk towards him after locking the door.

Sora follows and then points with a giggle. “Daddy’s sleeping.” He whispers. You giggle too, “I can see that.” Scaramouche had his head resting on his fist while his other arm wrapped around Ren, who was also fast asleep on his leg, hugging his stuffed animal tightly.

“I’m sleepy too.” Sora says and begins to climb onto Scaramouche’s lap. You sigh and place your things on the kitchen table, noticing a plate of crumbs. You smiled and then headed back, squealing at the cuteness happening in front of you.

You sneakily take a picture and send it to Aether and Lumine right away in the group chat. Lumine responded with, “I knew he was the one who gave birth.” You snort and type a response back. You see Aether’s text bubble, and he sends a picture of Xia sleeping on top of Xiao’s chest.

You say, “Are we racing right now?” And Aether responds with, “Maybe.” You roll your eyes and put your phone away before scooping up Ren and taking over his spot. He snuggles to your chest, not waking up at all.

You smile and feel yourself get pulled to your husband's body. You look up, “I thought you were asleep.” “I was.” Scaramouche mumbles, opening an eye to look at you. He begins to caress your arm. “You make a lot of noise.” You pout, “Rude.” However, you go and kiss him, trying not to disturb the boys.

“Sora fell asleep fast.” You comment, looking down at him curled into a ball. Scaramouche hums, petting his son’s hair. “He had a long day.” You nod, “So did I.” You let out a sigh, nuzzling your cheek on his shoulder. “I’m probably not able to chaperone anymore.” Scaramouche raises a brow. “What? Why?”

“Um…I’ll tell you later…” Scaramouche glared at you. “Yn, what did you do?” You frowned. “Hey, all I’ll say is, no one messes with my family.” Scaramouche sighs and then pinches your nose. “Ow!” You squeak. “You’re an idiot.” You roll your eyes. You feel Ren moving in your arms again, so you stay still and rub his back.

“I see everything worked out between you two.” Scaramouche nods, “Yeah.” You smiled, “I told you he loves you.” Scaramouche smiles, “Yeah.” Scaramouche kisses the top of your head. “And I love you.” You blush, “You’re lucky I can’t move right now.” He chuckles, resting his head on yours.

“But I love you too.” You say gently. “I love all of you.” “Me too.”

So, you both closed your eyes, letting yourselves finally relax in the comfort of each other’s arms, your home.

[wannabanauthor]

Is there a canon reason why Buck hasn’t reached out to Tommy to apologize or fix things?

Because he’ll complain to everyone about missing Tommy, but he does nothing about it.

Why?

Is he just taking Tommy for granted? Is his ego so big that he thinks a hot firefighter pilot is going to wait for him?

What frustrates me the most is that he plays stupid when it comes to Tommy. Like he didn’t say something to officially end the chances of Tommy wanting to try again.

He wants Tommy but refuses to take action, and that is so frustrating because he’s had 5 business years to clear things up, and he still does nothing.

Seriously though, what is his issue?

Does he think that apologies happen through wishful thinking instead of picking up the phone?

He could have cleared things up before Tommy left that morning, but all he does is watch him leave with a half-assed attempt to talk to him. He told Tommy he was a one night stand and is shocked that Tommy is hurt by it, and what does he do? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

He says he should call Tommy and apologize, and he doesn’t. Not even off screen.

He could have apologized in the helicopter. It’d take one sentence. Tommy managed to convey his feelings in three words, and what does Buck say in response? Nothing. He just looks happy, but he does not reciprocate.

Yeah, I’m going to need Tommy to move on because Buck is too stupid to fix things. He thinks time is an apology then gets upset when it doesn’t work.

No shit, Buck, you have to put some effort into relationships. Thank you for proving Tommy right at every turn.

Maybe Buck really wasn’t ready, and I’m going to need him to shut up about Tommy because Buck will continue to do nothing about it.

Yes, I’m still mad because it doesn’t make sense. Tommy has no reason to reach out to Buck after what Buck said. Buck knows that but still does nothing.

I hope Tommy finds someone else who is willing to give him the same amount of love he gives them, because Buck ain’t it.

I don’t want to be an anti shipper, but Buck’s stupidity isn’t cute anymore. He’s in his 30s.

Tommy is not coming back to Buck because Tommy thinks that Buck doesn’t care about him anymore. And Buck refuses to prove him wrong. It’s like he’s actively sabotaging his chances to get back with Tommy.

I’m still not watching the show again until after it ends for good.

I ship Tommy with happiness, and I ship Buck with consequences of his inactions.

[bigassmoth]

Sebastian feeling a mix of jealousy and confusion when you and Ciel get along well. He knows you arent going to eat Ciels soul so he doesnt have to worry about you- but Ciel shamelessly keeps badmouthing Sebastian around you.

Doing all he can to monopolize your time. It doesnt help that you treat the boy favorably, always advocating for him to have more sweets and games. You inquire Ciel about all kinds of things, you work to pull him out of his shell until he begins to conserve with you. Your attention and curiosity is a luxury that Sebastian has never received. The hot stone of jealousy sits in his chest when you treat him with polite reservation. Ciel will send mocking looks at Sebastian. Unfortunately, the young lord was perceptive and had caught onto the demons interest in you. The emotion may be closer to envy than jealousy as Sebastian never had your complete attention in the first place.

But, he cant help but be puzzled by your behavior. It cant be "motherly instincts"- you are not the boys mother and you arent attempt to parent him in the slightest. Sebastian doesnt know what has compelled you to be so protective of the boy- for free. His guardianship is entirely conditional, as it should be, but your loyalty manifested without any cause. Moreover- Ciel is partial to you yet maintains his aloof attitude. He pretends to not be listening when you talk- but he remembers every detail. He is dry and snappish at your most inconsequential comments, but is the most relaxed when you are near. Ciel considers you the most dependable- yet hates to have your assistance. Sebastian is used to the contradictory behavior of his young lord but what surprises him is the seemingly endless well of patience you have. Unlike most of Ciels close companions, you have a functioning brain. He struggles to understand why someone as clever and observant as yourself puts up with such behavior. Not that he will ever tell Ciel this- as the moment the young master makes a mistake his faithful butler will be there to take care of you it.

The worst moments are when you do approach Sebastian first- because it is always to talk about Ciel. "Has he been eating? Sleeping?", "Im worried he is inside too much", "How can I help with his birthday celebration?"

The two feelings intertwine. Why do you care so much when you get nothing but the young lords prickly attitude in return? Why are you stand by someone who is always pushing you away? Why does Ciel reach for you, who is weak and ignorant to the powers of the supernatural and fatal? Why does Sebastian stand on the outside and feel like he is staring at a puzzle with a completed border and nothing inside? How does he get the pieces to complete the picture?

[kittysdumpblog]

Hcs on tom: how he would be as a girl dad (twins)

Love twice as strong

TW: cursing, fluff, paparazzi being insane animals(fucking hate them), teen pregnancy(18 yrs), I decided to use the 2 names Nala and Sarabi from The Lion King as the names for the baby girls(I chose Sarabi b/c Tom said if he had a kid, especially a girl, he’d name her Nala, and Sarabi is a character form The Lion King sooooo yeah! This is so fucking rushed😭 like I’m so sorry, but it was taking me forever to get this shit out🤬🔫

wc:

{~——————————-[•]———————————~}

When tom finds out he’s literally

Just stand there for a good solid 5 seconds computing what you just told him, mouth open eyes wide. When he finally comprehends what you told him he’s shocked because you use protection. Well, there was that one time you two were really drunk, and there was the other time you’d smoked a bit, and then you were also in bed, to tired to put on a condom, and then-

Tom can tell you’re really freaked out, so he gives you a long hug and tells you that’s it’s going to be okay and that you’ll figure it out. But it’s also partly to himself. Because he’s going to be a dad. And he’s 18. You both are.

The 2 of you have a long ass talk about it. Whether to keep the baby or not. You decide to not make a decision and think about it for a day or 2. After your talk Tom goes straight to Bill so he can freak the fuck out.

Eventually, you decide to keep it. That was one of the best decisions you’d ever made(in some aspects..?)

When you find out you’re having twins, Tom is over the moon, because you’re having twins. Twins! Having kids was actually Tom wanted at some point in life, but having twins? Was a while different thing. And it made Tom happy because he knew that your kids were going to have a special bond. It also makes you and his mom closer because she knows how it feels to carry twins.

And when they finally, Tom’s by your side, all the way through. He only left to pee once. He stayed by your side for two whole days. When Tom finally hold’s your 2 baby girls, Nala and Sarabi, he starts bawling. Like, full on tears. He doesn’t know why, but he just does. There’s just something about holding his 2 baby girls for the first time.

Whenever you’re out in public, it’s Tom with the twins or someone else, their faces are covered. Because god forbid, that you and Tom are going to let the paparazzi get a picture of your kids face and plaster that shit all over the news. Your kids faces can be exposed when they’re old enough to be rational and decide.

This man will eat up that toy kitchen. (I got this hc from @kisses4tom, so go check them out! All credit goes to them for this hc)

Tom will try his absolute best to not pass on any of his trauma onto the girls. And because ego this he’s always there for them which makes him have a great bond.

As the girls get older, you can finally tell them apart because they’re identical. Sarabi would be more like Tom in style so he’d give her all his old clothes. Like I can just depict Sarabi being shocked and happy cause she just got a shit load of clothes. But Nala is a lot like him in personality. And when the girls are older, lord have mercy. Those 2 are making the most dirtiest and foul jokes and comments ever.

Now that the girls are older, whenever their friends are over and see old photos to Tom, most fall for him. Like all their friends at some point have a crush on Tom or one of the others. Like Tom’s called “The Hot Dad” 😭

I feel like Tom would put them into some sort of music related thing. Not only because it’s in general just good to have some sort of thing to do, but also because it’s important to him(look at his career) but if one or the girls, or both, don’t wanna continue. That’s fine. But, if one of them continues, and they’re playing the guitar, baby forget lessons, Tom’s teaching them himself.

Whenever one of the girls, or both, accomplishes anything big, he will cry. He doesn’t know why, but he just does. It doesn’t even have to be full on sobbing. Just a couple of tears yk?

Would literally smash his own fucking motorcycle and guitar before he saw them hurt or sad.

Man he loves those 2

[fideidefenswhore]

caved and rewatched a few eps (sort of only pieces tho) of tudors (and BSR, drama scenes only… #ilovetohavefun) last night and like the way… you can literally so plausibly cast so many actors in that cast as hviii… except the one playing hviii….

i know steve waddington is the fan fav, he would be perfect for henry like circa 1530 (except the brown eyes), but i also present:

Kris Holden Reid , perfect for circa 1515 (and 6’3 asw!)

[evansbby]

.

[narutomaki]

character/universe concept so I don't forget:

a boy who almost gets killed by a teen/young adult vampire turns to the church to become a priest/vampire hunter but ends up abused by his teacher and when they final line so to speak is about to be crossed when hes a mid(?) or young (???) teen (undecided) the same vampire now older ends up semi-unintentionally rescuing him not knowing it's the same boy and half kills the priest and drinks from him and the boy grabs a stake and the vampire is like. making his peace with this being his end bcus he's weak after feeding when the boy drives the stake into the priests neck and drags it down to make a ghastly wound and he steals vestments and clothes to disguise himself later in life as a full fancy vampire hunting priest and packs it all away and ends up following the vampire all the way back to his coven still carrying the stake he Kill killed the priest with and the vampire is like I didn't know what to do with him ???? and his like father figure ?/the vampire that turned him just smiles at the boy and kisses his forehead and leaves two small marks there, like birth marks, that mark him as belonging to their coven without turning him into a vampire

any way

compels me dunnit

[partiallysame]

Being Price’s lil wife

-Task force 141 knew Price was married. Man wore his ring religiously, always putting it back on the second they were in the helicopter/plane/whatever after each mission

-He’d come to work with a lunch packed with a cute lil heart note

-To be honest they all assumed you were the same age as Price (old) He always said he’d been “married for years” (3)

-They never knew your name, Price only ever referred to you as The Missus

-Gaz swore Price had a photo of you in his wallet (he did) but they never knew what you looked like untilllllllll

-You called your husband simply to complain. The AC had gone out and the repair man wouldn't be able to get there for a couple days. No no this simply would not do, his perfect lil lady could not be uncomfortable in her own home he wouldn’t have it but fuck he’s out of the country for a few more days. His team however is not and while stupid, they do know how to do maintenance work (why? Just because.)

-He called his team for a very important mission. Gave them the address, accompanied with “I don’t want to hear a fucking thing about you causing any trouble or being disrespectful to the Missus you hear?” The boys were absolutely giddy to finally see the ever so important Missus.

-The second you opened the door Soap was apologizing for having the wrong house and oh so politely asked if you knew where the Price household was. This had to be the wrong one because there you stood, pretty young thing, big doe eyes. Standing in just a big shirt ending at the very tops of your thighs, lashes batting at the three soldiers standing at your door.

-“You’ve got the right place. John told me you were coming, please come in.” You had to hold in a giggle, watching all of their eyes go wide. Gaz immediately looking at the sky, the floor, anywhere but the wife of his captain that he was just undressing with his eyes.

-When you turned to guide them into the house they all saw PRICE printed on the back of the large tshirt just barely covering your ass (this is your own home pants are never required and its hot as hell without the ac). Now it was Ghost’s turn to look anywhere but at you.

-As they worked you’d bring them water or snacks. They now understood why Price kept you hidden from them. The perfect lil housewife. The woman of all of their dreams already taken.

-When they were finished they went to the kitchen to inform you they were done only to find a full meal set on the table waiting for them but worst of all? There you were reaching up to the top cabinet. On your tippy toes, your shirt (Price’s shirt) riding up enough to expose the bottom of your ass and lacey pink panties. Soap had to bite his knuckle to keep from groaning. Ghost grabbing the tops of his teammates heads, turning them away from the incredible sight in front of them.

-Price was right to keep you hidden from them

-They might just have to sneak in and break something every time Price was out of town if it meant this is what they got to see.

Price's lil wife Masterlist

[breatheforchan]

he slayed so hard I was actually shaking. My Religion is Bahng Christopher Chahn. I take naur criticism.

HIS WALK. NAUR THE WAY HE WALKED LIKE HE OWNED IT 😵‍💫 please im Saur proud of my man 😔🤞

Bang Chan ✧ Step Out 2024

[classyrbf]

dad bod!toji who’s still the big, muscular man he is but you can tell he’s gotten older and his metabolism has slowed down a little bit. He’s gotten chubbier in his arms, thighs, tummy. Not to mention, he’s started to gray and grow stubble on his face, the perfect salt and pepper mix. Toji says he hates it, always moaning and groaning about needing to hit the gym but you…? You fucking love it. It takes everything in you not to ravish his right then and there, wanting to pounce on him every second of the day. You’re always kissing up on him, grabbing on him, dragging him to the laundry room while the kids watching tv so you could have a quickie. And he’s so confused on where all this extra energy and affection has sprouted from, but he loves it. You’re always so eager for him, fucking your self on his cock, him waking up to you kissing his neck and stroking his dick, dropping to your knees and giving him head without his asking. He wonders what he’s done to deserve all of it.

He’s standing in the mirror one late night with his shirt off, examining just how chubby he’s gotten. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little insecure, thinking how gorgeous you are and how you shouldn’t settle for him. “I’m losing myself,” he grumbles. “What’s going on, baby?” You walk in the room, a smile immediately on your face when you see his shirt is off, definitely a sight to see. “I need to head to the gym is what’s going on.” He flexes his muscles in the mirror. You giggle and walk up behind him, snaking your arms around his waist. “I think you look so handsome with a little weight on you,” you whisper in his ear. “Does something to me.” You nibble on his ear before trailing kisses along his jaw, and that’s when Toji realizes why you’ve been so affectionate with him, like a lightbulb going off in his head.

Just mere minutes later, you’re riding him like your life depends on it, slamming your hips down on his, creating a sticky mess between you two. “S-shit,” he pants, “slow down, mama—fuck!” His bruising grips on your hips only tighten the faster you ride him. Your pussy sucks him in with each thrust, clenching around his throbbing cock. “I can’t…you get so me so hot and bothered, baby.” You grin, running your hands down his chest.

He swears he could cum right then and there, with the way you were riding him and that look in your eye, he was ready to give you another kid. And now you were kissing his neck, moaning and whimpering in his ear. “You’re so perfect, Toji,” you mewl. “Fuck me.” His eyes roll back before fluttering shut. “Keep going, yes, yes, just like that, mama. You’re gonna make me fucking cum,” he groans. You keep that same rhythm, squeezing your pussy around him, milking him. He suddenly wraps his arms around you, holding you in place as he thrusts up into you, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. “Ah, fuck!” You cry out, your cum dripping down his shaft. His thrusts grow sloppier and harder and next thing you know he’s filling you up, pushing his cum deeper inside of you with slow thrusts. Laughter erupts from your chest as you catch your breath, kissing him slowly and passionately.

“Mmm, goddamn,” he huffs, pulling you to his chest. “Now I finally know why you’re so goddamn horny all the time,” he chuckles. You blink up at him with a small smirk. “Can you blame me?” You trace patterns on his skin. He can see the look in your eye, that hungry stare you’re giving him, wanting more. “What are you thinking about, hm?” He caresses your cheek. “Oh nothing…just how badly I wanna give you some head right now, but I’ll wait.”

[tonycries]

Isn't That Sweet? (I Guess So) - G.S.

Synopsis. Oh no! Why do your pantíes keep disappearing? Well, maybe your hot roommate knows the answer…

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, pànty-stealer! roommate! Gojo, annoyances-to-lovers, he’s REALLY down bad, vírgin! Gojo, oraI (fem receiving), màle màsturbation, pining, face-sítting, jealousy (his side), fírst times, unprotected, creampíe, teary Gojo, pànty-gagging, HEINOUS things, pet names, aIcohol mentions, swearing.

Word count. 8.6k (whoopsies)

A/N. Hope y’all have a lovely week hehe <3

“Damn…” you sigh at the glaringly empty drawer, rubbing your eyes as if that would make a difference - maybe even magically materialize a fresh pair of panties in front of you. “It’s the second time this month.”

Or was it the third?

But, alas, standing around in your bedroom on a Sunday night does not give you the answers. Or any extra underwear.

Which is why you find yourself making a beeline for the bathroom - teeth gritted, stomach flipping at how very, very exposed you felt underneath the thin fabric of your shorts. Cursing everything from the building’s rundown old washing machine to Gojo’s stupid smile when he took away your laundry basket.

You could’ve sworn you saw your last pair perched right on top of your pile of old clothes, all flimsy and an obscene red that stood out amongst everything else. 

Seriously, how hard would it have been to lose that thing? Maybe you could bother him into buying a new washing machine for-

“Woah there-” Before you know it, you’re crashing face-first into a wall? Pillows? Gojo - unfairly shirtless. “Now, what’s got your panties in a twist, sweetheart?”

The lack thereof. 

Maybe because you can’t say that, maybe because of what looks - feels - like miles upon miles of milky, sculpted skin, you’re instead settling for an extremely eloquent, “Nothing I uh-” But whatever excuse catches in your chest as you raise your face - still smushed between two large pecs - up, up, up and-

Oh. 

It’s not like you’re seeing something new - far from it, actually, unfortunately for your poor heart.

And at first, you’d thought it was some strange habit - hell, maybe the guy just didn’t like t-shirts. But it was around the fourth or fifth time he’d forgone one that you realized Gojo Satoru was just a tease. A no-good, insufferably smug tease that just loved to catch you ogling him. 

But, well, at least the rent was cheap.

Though, you weren’t exactly complaining about the view either…

Because lo and behold stood the infamous campus sweetheart - you knew about fourteen people who’d kill to see this exact sight. Gojo’s cloudy hair tousled, tiny droplets of water twinkling like diamonds against the bathroom light. Bouncing off his rippling abs, his strong arms circling your waist to stop you from falling backwards. Holding you too fucking close against the white towel slung low on his hips. His skin damp, smelling so delicious-

“Gojo, did you use my body lotion?” 

“Awww–” he whines, finally releasing his grip on you. “You were supposed to admire me some more.”

You scoff, eyes darting over broad shoulders - partially to search for your laundry basket, partially because you really couldn’t handle looking right at a shirtless Gojo Satoru any longer. “As if. Get out if you’re done.”

“Damn, woman. Feisty.” Gojo lets out a deep chuckle - smooth and cocky - when you’re hastily shoving him away from the doorframe. “If you wanted to put your hands on me that bad then you jus’ hafta ask, y’know~”

It was way too late for this. 

“Hilarious.” you deadpan, though you let go of where you were gripping Gojo’s arm like it burned. Immediately stepping behind the bathroom door before he could make you lose whatever’s left of your sanity, “Next time you hog the bathroom m’gonna smash those ugly new sunglasses of yours.”

He’s pressing his foot between that gap in the door to stop you from closing it, “Oi, don’t think I don’t see that glint in your eyes, sweetheart.” Yeah, the glint in your eyes that told you if looks could kill then Gojo would be six feet under already. Which only makes him grin wider, “You’re telling me you really weren’t checkin’ out the most sought-after man on campus jus’ now?”

Huffing in frustration, you cross your arms, “I don’t see Geto Suguru anywhere.”

“...you take that back right now. I’m the pretty best friend.”

“Am not.”

“Am too.”

“Am not. Isn’t that why you’re still single?”

“Th-that’s not- fuckin’ Suguru? Really? Most people would kill for a look of this-” Gojo gestures at his bare torso, and once more you’re reminded that those absolutely awful protein shakes he makes every morning aren’t just for show. “-and you’re getting it daily.”

You reach out a hand, Gojo chest hot underneath your touch. He seizes up instantly, ears tinging red as you muse, “Yeah.” Only to push him fully out the doorway, “I just wish you’d shut up daily, too.”

With that, you’re shutting the door with a resounding slam! Feeling only slightly guilty until you hear Gojo’s squawks of protest from outside, “I really don’t know what’s got your panties in a twist.”

Right. Panties.

Something just a tad more important than recounting exactly how many abs Gojo Satoru had.

You let out a shuddering breath, clamoring to find that spare laundry basket you’d forgotten in here earlier today. Shuffling through through the soft clothes, hoping, praying to find-

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

Fuck. 

Somehow, you’re hiding away your body lotion that night.

---

“Now, listen here, sweetheart. I know you look fuckin’ gorgeous in everything but-”

“Satoru.”

“But that-” he whirls around, pointing a long finger accusingly at the boxers you’d improvised into sleep shorts. Spitting venomously, “-that I cannot allow.”

You’re rolling your eyes at your roommate’s theatrics, forking through your pancakes while he monologues to himself more than you. “Why does it even matter? It was just for yesterday.” you mutter. “I didn’t have any clean uh- panties for the night n’ this worked.”

Thankfully, since the fresh laundry this morning, you’d found two more of your panties - courtesy of a very smug Gojo handing off your clothes. Ah, it felt like the universe itself was smiling down on you.

But oh if you thought the great Gojo Satoru was having a breakdown before then you weren’t prepared for when you lifted your gaze off the kitchen table. Only to meet his - eyes wide, a pretty pink blush coloring his cheeks, lips gawking and stuttering around what looked like a silent, “P-panties-”

You raise a brow, “What’s got you this worked up, Gojo?”

“Nothing.” he clears his throat, “Absolutely nothing at all. Panties? I love- er, wait no-”

“B-besides-” you bristle at the way his heavy gaze was now turning to flit between your face and down below. Dangerously. “They’re not even yours so I don’t know why it matters.”

This seems to snap him out of his little reverie, and he’s immediately standing up straighter, brows furrowing. He continues, in a much more serious tone than before, “They’re his?” 

You stab your breakfast with a bit too much vitriol than necessary, looking at Gojo with narrowed eyes, “If you mean the one my ex left behind then yes. Who else?”

Your ex wasn’t good for much - and Gojo seemed especially hostile towards him because of his distaste for your little living situation. But, hey, at least the guy was helping you out at this time. Albeit unknowingly. 

He’s raising his hands in mock-surrender, shuffling back into the kitchen to work on the rest of those “world famous” Gojo pancakes. “Nothing nothing.” he hums, and maybe it was how sleep-deprived you were - running on a few too many assignments due today and a few too little panties - but you think Gojo’s voice has a bit more bite to it than usual. Jaw clenching as he plows on, “Of course that fucker- in my- our apartment, too. Fuck-”

A spatula is suddenly mere inches from your face, Gojo brandishing it in front of you like a weapon as he declares, “We’re going panty-shopping after Yaga’s lecture today.”

“Gojo, I-”

“We-” he cuts you off, delicately placing another pancake on your plate - a little truce. So close now that it reminds you of last night - you could feel his minty breath on your face, count every long, sultry eyelash of his. “-are going panty-shopping after Yaga’s lecture n’ I’m paying. That’s final.”

And of course, in true Gojo fashion, you can barely get a word out before he’d immediately ducking out of the kitchen. You almost let your lips curl into a smile, hit with a sudden wave of endearment as you hear Gojo’s long legs padding urgently down the hallway to God-knows-where. Maybe he did know when to be-

Smack!

You jolt as you’re hit with a pair of boxers - fresh ones, thankfully, that you recognized from all the clothes you’d rummaged through last night - plopped unceremoniously onto your lap. Jaw dropping in disbelief when you look up to meet Gojo’s devilish grin. 

“Next time-” he winks, motioning at the fabric you were poking in concern now. “-wear mine.”

The talk of Yaga’s lecture hall that morning was of a pair of burned boxers found right outside your building, everyone speculating what the poor guy had done to have his presumed girlfriend make an example of it like that. 

For you, however, the only thing running through your mind was whether or not you could count properly.

Because surely you remembered it correctly when you counted two new underwear this morning - that gauzy black one and the deep red? Two. Definitely not the singular, sad piece of red fabric laying on your bed after breakfast today? Two. The only one you could find even after scouring through your whole bedroom. 

So where the fuck had that other one gone?

---

(8+ new messages)

Do not answer (roomie)🧿🧿: Hurry up ive been lurking inside that lingerie shop ya told me you liked n’ now the old ladies here look like they wanna eat me alive ＼(º □ º l|l)/

im boooored, gonna stand still n’ start blending in with these mannequins if you dont hurry up istg

Hurry

HURRY

HURRY THEY THINK IM SUSPICIOUS

PLEASE THEYRE GONNA ESCORT ME OUT

┬┴┬┴┤･ω･)ﾉ i literally SEE YOU outside 

BITCH STOP LAUGHING-

No sooner are you letting out a cackle at Gojo’s rapid-fire texts, you’re looking up to see the man himself being walked outside by two security guards. Squabbling heatedly in a way that had them heaving out long sighs - which, honestly, you felt a stab of relatable empathy for.

“-I swear I’m not a creep I’m jus’-” Gojo’s bickering dies on his tongue as he catches the sight of you walking closer to the commotion. Closer. Taking your sweet sweet time, eyes just barely glazing over him before- you’re walking away. “Hey!” he calls out, stopping you in your tracks. “Now, don’t you dare-” Before turning back to his wary escorts, “I’m with her.”

They exchange a look between each other, and no matter how much you’d like to pretend the scene had absolutely nothing to do with you - you’d rather Gojo doesn’t get banned from the mall altogether. 

“He’s right.” you drone out, one hand grabbing Gojo’s, the other forcing his head into an apologetic bow. Hissing to the side so that only he would hear, “Unfortunately.”

The two security guards now seem more amused than anything at your strange dynamic. One of them raises a brow, muttering, “Well…this one’s certainly a handful.” Turning around to head back to their stations, “Ya better keep a tight leash on your boyfriend.”

You sputter, eyes wide, “Oh- he’s not-”

But it’s too late - they’re both swiftly out of earshot, most likely more than happy to hand over the public nuisance off to you. And Gojo’s looking to you with a smug smirk, voice dropping about an octave deeper as he breathes against your ear, “So, gonna take your boyfriend to help out with lingerie shopping, sweetheart?”

Oh. God. 

This was going to be one long day.

“I’m only here because another one of mine disappeared, y’know.” you hiss, rifling through all the options before you. “Which really has me wondering why-”

“H-hey! How about this one?” Gojo interrupts, shoving a lacy set right in front of your face, his voice just a bit louder than what was appropriate. 

You sigh, catching the eyes of a few disapproving older women around you. “No this is-” But running a thumb over the fabric makes you bite back an insult. And for all how brash Gojo was, maybe his panty selection wasn’t awful. It was a flimsy little thing, gauzy and light blue - the type you’d typically wear on a night out. You meet his boyish grin, admitting, “...not bad.”

“See?” he laughs - eyes glinting with delight as he piles on a few more in your basket. “N’ if you’re impressed with that then you’re gonna be proposing to me when you realize it’s exactly your size-”

You quirk a brow, “How do you know my size, Gojo?”

And this makes his body stiffen, large shoulders squaring up, throat bobbing as he answers,“Uh? Experience?”

Oh, right. You’re rolling your eyes, fighting off a weird little stab of irritation. This probably isn’t the first time he’s come here with a girl, anyway. 

And yet, despite however much of an alleged “catch” Gojo was, he’d - perhaps mercifully - never brought anyone over. You don’t know why, but you didn’t really want to question it.

“A-anyway.” Gojo’s airy voice cuts through your thoughts. And he’s plucking up a few more sets of lingerie for you to sort through, “Can’t let these one, two, three- six lovely lil’ things go to waste now, can we?” At your look of confusion, he chuckles, guiding the two of you to the counter now. “Suguru’s holding a party at his place tonight, how would you like to do the honors of being my cute plus one?”

“I’d rather go with Yaga.”

Though, you really can’t say no - not when Gojo’s flashing you that black card as he pays for everything in an instant. Not when all he can prattle about on the way home  is how gorgeous you’d look together at Geto’s party - how you’ll have to beat everyone off of him with a stick (to which you reply that you’d no sooner do that than beat him with a stick.)

Not when he sits outside your bedroom door as you get ready later that night. Insisting on keeping you company even as you slip out of your towel. Looking over your shoulder to make sure he wasn’t peeking in before eagerly turning to grab at one of your new set of silky white panties- only, they weren’t there.

Strange. 

“Hey, Gojo…” you call out, looking underneath your blankets for where you might’ve thrown them about after trying them on. Under your bed, in your drawers, anywhere. “-didn’t we buy six sets?”

“Huh? Dunno, I didn’t count. Just wear the blue one.” he whines, ushering you to hurry up from outside. Face burning because shit, this was you and you were inside - still wrapped up in only that sinful little towel. Oh, would the painful death really be worth it if he happened to accidentally look around? “S’pretty and y’know what else?”

Your voice was muffled as you hastily put on your clothes, “What?”

“It matches my eyes.”

Really strange.

---

Thankfully for Gojo, you didn’t go with Yaga to the party - nor did you find your lost pair of panties, sadly, but that wasn’t too much of a concern for him. 

And here he was - one hurried Uber ride and about several billion death threats from you later. Wishing that you’d actually just acted on one of them because fuck at least then he wouldn’t have to be watching from across the room as some bastard from the university basketball team tried to chat you up.

Gojo can’t even hear the way the girls surrounding him were giggling about something or the other, alcohol making his tongue a little heavier, eyes a bit glassier. 

Nothing like the way that other man was drinking in that polite smile on your face. Tilting your head to face forwards and- God, why won’t you just look at him instead?

Would that guy still look at you that way if he knew you were wearing lingerie matching his eyes right now?

“Not gonna entertain your fans?” Geto’s voice rings through his whirlwind thoughts, eyeing down the forgotten crowd in amusement.

“When have I ever?” Gojo runs a hand through his hair in frustration. 

He lets out a knowing laugh, “Yeah, you little vir-” Turning into a coughing fit when Gojo elbows his best friend straight in his stomach. “Anyways.” Geto gestures with his drink in your direction, as if Gojo hadn’t seen - as if it wasn’t the only thing on his mind right now. “Well, your lil’ roomie there seems to be popular, too, huh? Star player of the basketball team n’ all. 

He clicks his tongue, slumping further against the thumping wall. “So? I’m taller, and more handsome.”

“Are you sure ‘bout that?”

“Y-yeah?” he sputters. 

“Well then why aren’t you over there with her?” Geto hums, lips curling. “Looks t’me like even she doesn’t like him that much so why’re you being a pussy over here? Always sneaking around stealing her-” 

“Shut up-” And Gojo knows he’s riling him up, he knows that Geto wants to see a little drama - maybe finally shut up his pining over the one girl he’s wanted for the past year - and couldn’t have. It’s a trap. But Gojo can’t stop his head from snapping between you and his best friend’s sly smirk. Slurring indignantly, “Of course I’m fuckin’ handsome, n’ taller. I’d make a better boyfriend too and-” He trails off at the sight of that loser leaning in - but more importantly that tiny furrow in your brows, your hands on his chest softly keeping him at bay. “-and m’gonna go over there n’ prove it.”

“Ah, that loser’s gonna thank me later.”

And, hell, Gojo could barely even walk. Barely even think straight as he’s parting the stuffy living room, ignoring whatever whispers and titters were following him. 

“I said no-”

“Hey, sweetheart.” you jump when someone - Gojo - creeps up from behind you. Large build hanging off your own when he nuzzles his face into your neck. And you could feel his toothy grin on your skin, “Missed me?”

Your face burns, “I uh-” Angling your face as dignifiedly as possible to face your roommate, “Gojo, are you drunk?”

“Drunk on you, yes.”

“What the-”

The man in front of you pipes up - shuffling uncomfortably on his feet. “Didn’t realize you were taken. My bad.” Looking like he’d rather be anywhere but under the scrutiny of Gojo Satoru. His big arms tightening around your middle - when did they even get there? “I’ll just uh- get out of your way, man.”

“Mhm, by the way,” Gojo puffs up his chest a bit, clearly towering over the other man - ha, take that Suguru. “Nice loss against Kyoto last week, real knee-jerker.” 

You smack Gojo’s chest at his rudeness, to which he only smiles wider. Watching the other man being swiftly handled away by another apologetic member of the basketball team.

“Gojo.”

And before you can react, Gojo’s dragging his pretty plump lips along where that light blue band of your bra was just peeking out, murmuring lowly, “Love it when you scold me like that.” Still refusing to let go of you despite the jealous looks thrown your way, “Let’s go home, my girl.”

Oh, the look on your face was priceless. 

He just wished he could fish out his phone and record, or maybe even tell Geto to take a picture - help him make it his wallpaper. And he did - over fifteen times, in fact, as the two of you helped drag him away from the thrumming party. Geto doesn’t listen, of course, and you neither do you - grumbling out a slew of profanities underneath your breath that makes the Uber driver look at the two of you weird.

And yet, Gojo’s biggest issue right now was trying to climb up these fucking stairs - not when they were trying to run away from him. 

“I swear to God, Gojo-” you huff, chest heaving under the weight of walking - well, more like dragging - your roommate up to your apartment. Knees wobbly - maybe at the intensity of his cologne, maybe at the way his biceps were flexing on your shoulders, probably at how fucking useless he was. Damn lightweight. “You better cover my rent for the next year for this.”

“Of course I will~” his hot breath tickles your ear, “Anything for m’girl. I’ll take care of us forever, don't you worry your pretty lil’ head.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t deny the way your heart clenches - just a little bit. And if you’re slamming open Gojo’s bedroom door with a little more force than necessary, well, at least he’s a bit too impaired to nag at you about it.

He bounces lightly when you throw him on his plush mattress, giggling softly, “You should just join me, y’know. Have a little sleepover.”

“Drop dead.” you monotone, not even daring to look back at him while you shuffle through Gojo’s shirts. Throwing one over your shoulder at him, “N’ wear this, I just know you’ll complain about messing up your favorite button-up tomorrow morning.”

“Aww, you always take care of me so well, my girl~”

That familiar little nickname makes a shiver run down your spine, and it’s all you can do to concentrate on shuffling through Gojo’s drawers in search of his shorts. Absent-mindedly reaching for the lowest drawer and-

“Wait!” 

You jump, whirling around to catch Gojo sitting up ram-rod straight on the bed, eyes wide, hand reaching out as if to stop you. Swallowing thickly, you ask. “Gojo?”

And he jolts - like the very sound of your voice is sending electricity zapping through his veins. Abruptly scrambling off the bed before resting two hands on your shoulders, gently guiding you away from the drawer. “My shorts are uh- in my wardrobe, heh. Sorry about that.”

Furrowing your brows at the sudden twist, you squirm in his grasp to look at the drawer again. Failing - when Gojo keeps his grip steadfast, “Why’re you acting so-” 

“How about we order take out? My treat?”

And that night, tucking yourself into bed, you should be falling asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow. You should be caring less about that strange little outburst of Gojo’s inside his room. You should have realized sooner - those light blue panties you’d worn tonight were gone. No longer in your hamper of old clothes.

And there was only one thing to do. 

---

Gojo thinks he shouldn’t - fuck he knows he shouldn’t. He doesn’t even want to- well, that last bit was a lie.

Gojo Satoru first met you about a year ago, when you’d come knocking at his door asking about his ad for a roommate. It was more because he was bored inside this big apartment by himself than anything, really, but here you were all gorgeous and sweet, flashing him a smile that was burned into his mind for the rest of the week, at the very minimum. How could he ever say no?

And when you’d taken to walking around the apartment in those slutty lil’ shorts as a way to get back at his perpetual shirtless-ness? Thin panties just peeping out of the low hem? 

God, it was everything he could do to not run to the bathroom with each little glimpse. He was fucked, so very embarrassingly fucked. 

He just never thought it would get to this point - the first time had been an accident, honestly. When your laundry had gotten mixed up with his. Surely he didn’t remember having such a cute pair of pink panties in his closet? And surely it didn’t mean anything if he just-so-happened to stash them away, right?

At least, that’s what Gojo told himself the first time. And the second. And the third. And shit, it was a bit of an addiction now, and within a year of rooming with you, he’d accumulated a drawer stuffed guiltily with exactly what he shouldn’t be having. 

Gojo Satoru - insufferable campus sweetheart, the dreamy first place on everyone’s To-Fuck list - had been hoarding away your pretty panties. Like the pathetic virgin he pretends he isn’t. 

And so here he was - that dirty little drawer flung open, pants pulled down just enough, one hand flat on the flat surface to steady himself, while the other fisted desperately around his swollen cock - and one of your panties. 

“F-fuck, sweetheart.” he’s hissing, body shuddering in lewd little tremors at that torturous drag of fabric down his length. Squeezing at his thick base, moving fast - filthy up, up, up to thumb along the end of his sopping slit. “Feels s’good- too fucking good hngh-”

Such a pretty, wet gasp escapes him when your soaked, absolutely ruined underwear catches on his veins, tangling around his sensitive shaft. And he’s biting his lip, trying not to make a noise when he threads through the mess down below. 

“Oh fuck, yer killin’ me even when you’re ngh- not here.” he breathes unsteadily, weaving the sticky fabric around his long fingers. Tight - just how he knew you would. “S’like you know what you do t’me with these.”

They were your blue ones, this time - the ones from just last night. The ones you were wearing not even a full day ago. And Gojo has them wrapped daintily around his rock-hard cock, stark against the blushing red at his fat head. Already so drenched in precum as he fucks his fist. 

“Y’looked so p-pretty with these, sweetheart.” he groans over the wet fwip! fwip! fwip! Eyes rolling to the back of his head with each long, feverish stroke. “So pretty being mine. Ngh- so pretty in my- fuck.” 

Slam!

He’s hitting his palm facedown on the wood, knees buckling, eyes scrunching shut with pleasure. 

And that ruined, utterly depraved part of Gojo wonders whether next time he should steal your bras too? Have the full set of you proudly wearing his color like some secret little slut for him. 

He’s letting out a ragged little laugh, oh how cute you’d look all confused. Nipples hard through your flimsy excuse of a t-shirt while you looked around for them. While you asked him for help. 

Oh, just the thought of that has Gojo’s red, furious cock beading glossy drops of precum at his tip. Leaking a sinful, slippery sheen down his wrist. “Ah.” he lets out a guttural groan when his angry dick twitches in his hand, falling onto his elbow on the drawer. Not having the strength - or the sanity - to keep himself up anymore. “Look what you’ve-” Gojo’s eyes catch sight of a flash of red inside, sounding so wrecked. “Look what you’ve done.”

And those obscene red panties are snatched up by his free hand in a second, not even a second wasted before Gojo’s bringing them up to his face. 

Fuck. 

“Look what you’ve done. Look how ngh- filthy you’ve made me.” he whines, muffled. Hips fucking up in quick, uncontrollable little thrusts into his closed fist. Voice a pitch higher as he spits out embarrassing little accusations, “How pathetic. Gettin’ fuck- gettin’ off to this? Me of all hah- people like this? Can’t imagine how f-fucking mad you’d be.”  

Would you figure out it was him? Would you look in his drawer again? Teach him a lesson or two about being such a pathetic little pervert for his roommate. 

Maybe - just maybe - if Gojo plays his cards right, gets on his knees and begs for mercy, then you’d let him keep his little treasure. 

He throws his head back in a humorless little laugh when his aching hand slows down to languid, unforgivable tugs. He had time, anyway, your classes ended late today. Torturous - exactly the way he imagines you’d drive him mad. “Heh- wish this was you.”

You’d be so much meaner, pressing down on that little divot at his tip, flicking teasingly like you were trying to fuck out something delicious. You’d be running your nails down his achy veins, running your soft palms around his painful balls. 

You’d whisper, “This all you got, Toru?”

“Oh fuck!” Gojo moans, raspy little sounds of what sounds like your name filtering through the crevices of his fingers, your panties. “Fuck fuck fuck- gonna cum.” he whines. Heavy balls smacking back into his thighs with each thrust into your imaginary hand. How he wished you were here. He’s managing to wrench his eyes open to spy down at his sloppy cock - needing to see how your cute lil’ panties would look painted all white for him. How he wished you- “Gonna-”

Oh. Fuck. 

You. 

“Aw, why stop now, Gojo?”

You’re leaning against Gojo’s open bedroom door, flashing him such a sultry little smirk. Your voice almost a purr when you echo, “I said…” Before taking two long steps to where he stood frozen, “Why stop now?”

Gojo lets the damp fabric held up to his face drop in guilt - yet the other stays firmly wrapped around that hand cock of his still in hand. 

“S-sweetheart what are you- why-” And perhaps for the first time in the twenty-something years that Gojo Satoru has terrorized this planet, he’s speechless. Worry-bitten lips sagging open stupidly, “I- this is-”

You cut him off, “So you’re the panty thief.” So close now that Gojo’s dick was throbbing at each heave of your chest, the way you were squeezing your thighs together. Eyes sliding down his body to rest at the mangled mess of your all-new panties around his painfully hard cock. “I knew it.”

“I can explain-”

“All those times pretending to help me?” you bat your lashes in a way that makes him gulp. Words dripping with the same tease he’d imagined in daydreams just like this. “When you were the pervert stealing my panties? Are you even ashamed?”

Gojo flushes an innocent pink, excuses tumbling out of those pretty lips immediately. But they sound like lies even to him.

“This- ngh-” he’s rolling his hips forward when you slide a smaller finger down his arm, between his pecs, almost the way down to those tufts of white. “Fuuuck- y-you’re not mad? Are ya the devil herself cuz you’re gonna- ngh- kill me this way.”

Humming, “Class was canceled, but of course - don’t hah- stop on my account, Gojo.”

“Toru.” he’s gasping out, a low moan wrenching out of him when he’s bowing his body into his fist again. Squeezing - almost warningly - at his hilt. “C-call me Toru. Please.”

And fuck he could’ve cum right then and there at that devilish little smile you give him, biting down on your lower lip - inches from his that it felt like you were biting down on his. Maybe you were, shit Gojo didn’t even know right now. 

“Toru.”

That’s all it takes for Gojo’s lips to be crashing onto yours. Biting back a little whimper at the messy clash of teeth, of spit, because one taste of your candied lips and he was already so addicted. 

“Mmpf-” Gojo gasps, chasing hotly after your lips. Eyes half-lidded to watch the snapping of those delicate strings of saliva, “You’re- you’re so-” And he’s way too impatient to get out his words, licking heatedly at the slit of your mouth. Over and over and over-  “As bad as me- ngh-”

“Are ya sure about that?” you grin, cunt clenching at your roommate’s pained grunt when you pull away. “Because look-”

And the both of you are stuck on the way Gojo’s moving again, hips fucking up in jagged, mindless little grinds. Like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. Like he didn’t even feel the way his leaky tip was smearing along the front of your sinfully short skirt. 

“Can’t help it.” he whines, kissing down your neck. Hips urging forwards to slip up the thigh-length fabric, and when you don’t pull away, Gojo drags your skirt up, up, up with his pulsing length, “You don’t know what you do to me- fuck.”

His jaw falls slack, ogling at the sight of your pretty pussy on full display for him. Already so glossy with your sweet sweet juices, needy between your restless thighs. Bare. 

And this might be the first time he’s seen a cunt in real life but Gojo already knows - he already feels - that she’s gonna be the death of him. 

Sharp teeth nip at your bottom lip, tugging. “What the fuck-” Gojo breathes - more to himself than anything. “What the fuck what the-” Bringing down his free hand to run the pads of his long fingers along your puffy folds, as if to confirm whether this was real. “-fuck! Going out like this? You’re even dirtier than me, huh?.” 

“What can I do?” Sliding your arms around his broad shoulders, palms running along the heated skin. Back arching to grind down on his hand, “Someone stole all my panties.”

Your words fall on deaf ears, because Gojo doesn’t hesitate for even a second before he’s bringing his dripping wet fingers up to his lips. Smoldering eyes looking right into yours when he pops them in his mouth. Sucking them dry. 

“Oh fuck, sweetheart.”

In a split second, you’re being splayed out on Gojo’s king-sized bed like such a slut. Bouncing at the sheer force of the throw. And it happens so fast that you almost think you’re seeing things - but, no, the way you’re bouncing against the silky sheets was real. Your skirt bunching up at your waist was real. 

Gojo’s hazy gaze getting stuck right at the spot between your legs was real. 

“Shiiiit.” he murmurs, low and gravelly, like he’s moving through molasses. Stalking towards your trembling figure as if hypnotized, “Oh, she looks even prettier this way.”

You shuffle in embarrassment, pressing your thighs together, “Toru-”

But he doesn’t hear you, instantly scrambling onto the bed. “No- no no no no no-” Just wrenching your legs apart with his hands. “No, you don’t get to hide th-this from me, you don’ know how long I’ve waited for this. How much I’ve imagined-”

You’re gasping when he runs the tip of his index between your sopping wet slit, coating his fingers in your juices once more. Teasing. “N’ so wet. This all f’me? God, can’t even- ngh-”

“So eager.” you mumble, fingers threading through Gojo’s soft locks to pull him in so close. To drag him towards where you needed him the most. “Why don’t you jus’ shut up- N’ put that big mouth of yours into use somewhere else?”

His eyes widen, words a whisper, “C-can I?” He doesn’t wait for your response before flipping the two of you so easily. Having you toppling precariously on his lap now, “Can I really? Never done this before.”

Never?

It’s not before he lets out a shy huff, that you realize that you said that out loud. “So what? S’that bad?” Two large hands groping and kneading your ass to keep you in place, “Ya didn’t actually ngh- believe all those stories on campus, did ya?”

Squirming at the feeling of his massive girth rubbing up against your swollen folds, “D-doesn’t matter.” You grit out, “You can…”

And no sooner are you seeing Gojo’s megawatt smile, you’re already feeling it between your thighs. Being wrestled up like some glorified ragdoll, dragging your sloppy cunt all the way up to straddle Gojo’s pretty face. 

“So, this is what she ngh- looks like.” he whines, hot breath lapping at your quivering pussy. “Shit, she’s so wet I could almost-” You’re gasping when the man below you simply sticks his awaiting tongue out, admiring your pussy while letting your syrupy sweet slick drip! drip! drip! down his throat. “This all f’me?” 

The only thing you can give him right now is a needy little whine - which makes Gojo kiss the fat of your ass with a sharp smack! Biting his lip at the way it jiggles against his hand, “Tell me, where did my feisty girl go?”

That lewd little nickname has you scoffing in pathetic frustration, your grip searing on his scalp when you force his obscene mouth closer. “Y-you seriously need to-” Pulling, “-shut up, Toru.”

And oh, you’d played right into Gojo’s devilish hands. This was exactly what he wanted - to have his face stuffed between your limp legs, ready mouth meshing messily with the folds of your dripping cunt. “There she is.” he moans, the tip of his tongue slurping up the sloppy dredges of your slick. Carding between your pussy lips, “Oh- fuck there she is. Yeah use me like that- use me.”

He’s running his mouth a mile a minute and you wonder how. Because Gojo was lapping at your cunt so feverishly, everywhere - from your inner thighs, to your folds, to just around the circles of your sloppy entrance like he wanted to taste it all. And couldn’t decide where to go first. 

“T-Toru.” you let out a honey sweet mewl of his name when the tip of his nose is rubbing against your clit. “There. Right there-”

Eyes rolling to the back of his head when he easily locates your sensitive nub. Wrapping those ruby lips around your clit to give an experimental suck. 

Shit, he could almost pass out from how heavenly you look on top guiding him. Your entire body jolting with each roll of his hot tongue, giving him such a pretty view of your tits up your silky shirt. Just dragging your sloppy cunt all into his mouth when he toys with your pulsing clit. 

“Oh fuck!” your hips are darting away with each zap of electricity sent down your spine. 

Which, for Gojo - who’s only ever dared to dream up this moment on those lonely nights - isn’t enough. 

“Know m’new to this, sweetheart, but stop bein’ nice n’ fuckin-” He’s pulling on the crease of your waist, dragging you to rest your entire weight on his face - his mouth. “-sit.” You’re keening when Gojo forces you to collapse on his soft tongue, bullying past your puffy folds and into that sloppy ring of muscle. Jus’ barely dipping past the resistance, “I said use me so fuckin’ use me. Don’ care if I can’t breathe - if I fucking suffocate- ngh- m’gonna die if you don’t just sit.”

“Fine.” You cry out when the curve of his tongue is molding into your gummy walls, pushing recklessly past. Not even fucking easing you into it before he’s fucking you on his tongue. Calculated, mean little thrusts in search of all your sweet spots. “No half-assing then, m’kay?”

Though, you had the feeling that he would do anything but. 

“Good, now keep still.” he’s scolding, one hand starting up again in those slow, satisfied tugs on his length. “Please keep still.” And the other dancing between your legs to push a finger inside your snug cunt. “Mmm it’s a tight fit, can feel ya clenching around me. Ngh- always wondered how it’d feel- where that would be.”

Blinking away the haze in your eyes, you look down at where Gojo was already locked on you, “Th-that?”

“That.” he breathes into your cunt, voice reverent as he speeds up. “S’your pussy gonna tell me where your good spot is? Gonna help me ngh- learn?”

And to your embarrassment - and Gojo’s smug satisfaction, it only takes a few more hurried strokes of his tongue before he’s nudging against your g-spot. Both the texture of his tongue and his long, cold fingers curling to assault the poor bundle of nerves. 

Your body bows deeper as if on auto-pilot, “Oh- fuck! You fucking- hngh”

He’s snickering at the way you’re so responsive, cock hard - and only swelling girthier in his fist with each adorable moan falling from your lips. 

“Oh yeah? There? Ya like this?” he moans, “Ya like shutting up the ngh- p-pervert that steals your panties with your cunt?” 

Getting faster. More attuned to his feral need. 

Lips smacking in tempo with those obscene squelches, you can’t tear your eyes away from the way his cheeks hollow. Fingers still so rapid, moving to make out and toy so messily with you clit - untimed, sloppy but fuck did you love it. 

“Y-yes.” you’re shoving his mouth guiltlessly deeper. Letting his long tongue explore every crevice and inch of you. Sloppier. So, so filthy. “Love it- fuck- you’re such a fast fucking learner.”

“I know.”

There was that cocky Gojo Satoru you were used to, lips curling into a strawberry pink smile around your clit - all glossy and sweet with a sheen of your slick. Making such a mess of the lower half of his face, his chin, shit, all the way down to his jaw. 

“M’close-” you choke out at the sight, “M’so fuckin’ close- gonna- gonna cum on your tongue, Toru.”

“Look at you ruining me.” his words hit you hard on your sensitive cunt, sending shockwaves up your arched spine. Obscene little smacks of his lips following your barely-lucid mewls.“Absolutely defiling me. Are ya proud of nghhh fuck- yourself?”

It’s all you can do to manage out a strained, “Yes! Yes yes yes yes- God, m’so close, Toru/ Gonna cum m’gonna-”

You don’t even realize it when you’re cumming at first, just that you’re riding Gojo’s unfairly pretty face in harsh grinds - just the way he liked it. Jaw grinding against your cunt, chin hitting you with each slutty jerk of your hips, letting you use him all you want to ride through your high. 

And his fingers are digging into your hips, stopping you from pulling away even when you were snow. Even when you’re sobbing in oversensitivity. So painfully good. 

“Ngh- T-Toru–” you’re slurring out, his name thick on your tongue. “M’not gonna cum on your dick if you k-keep hah- acting this way.”

Only then does a pussydrunk Gojo Satoru raise his bleary eyes back up at you. Giving you a strained little grunt of acceptance, before parting ways with your pussy with a lingering, wet kiss on your clit. Barely-audible as he whispers, “Gonna see ya soon.”

You don’t have the time to think about his newfound addiction. Because in all of three seconds, he’s plopping you back down so prettily on his lap. Purposefully feeding your sopping wet slit his weeping red tip. 

“Please.” Gojo’s usually-arrogant grin has fallen into such a pretty pout with one graze of his length sandwiched between your folds. “I did good, right? Please ngh- so I th-think if I made you cum then I get to hah- fuck you how I want.”

And it’s not that you didn’t appreciate it before - but looking at his thick tip pushing up against your cunt right now has you recognizing that shit, Gojo is massive. 

Fat head blushing a pretty reddish, leaking so messily down, down, down those glistening veins at his side and to the creamy ring at his base - from when he’d cum, just from eating you out, you realize with a jolt. His girth so intimidatingly thick, long enough that you know you won’t be walking for a week straight, at least. All throbbing and angry with every second he isn’t buried to the hilt inside your cunt. 

Gojo Satoru is massive. 

“Like what ya see?” he echoes your thoughts, a soaked thumb coming down to pry apart your glossy folds. Grinning at the way your hole was already so needy and clenching around nothing. “Think m’the ngh- perfect size for this pretty pussy?”

Through it all, you find it in yourself to muse, “Only one way to find out. Gonna let me be your first, Toru?”

And then he’s pushing in, shallow, high little gasps bursting from his lips with each inch being bullied into your plush cunt. 

“O-oh fuck-” Gojo can’t stop himself from taking a good look at the way your pussy lips are bulging around him. Jaw dropping at the way your greedy entrance is only sucking him up more and more - trying to bite off more than you can chew with the way he was in so deep but barely even halfway in yet. “S’too good- oh my god- fuck I think m’gonna die. Is it s’pposed to feel th-this good?”

You’re running a hand gingerly through Gojo’s mussed-up hair, smoothing down the sides sticking up where you’d been pulling on it. “S’alright, Toru.” you soothe, letting him grind up into you. Trying to fit more - all of it. “You’ve got it- you’ve hah-”

You let out a pathetic little whine when his tip kisses your cervix, legs flexing around his toned waist. 

“Oh- ohhh fuck-” he’s barely able to string together coherent sentences now. Eyes falling till their half-lidded, body moving before his mind when he pulls yours stuck to his. “S-soo good n’ I haven’t even- oh!” His voice goes a few octaves higher when Gojo finally starts moving. “How can- it feel this good, hng-”

And shit for being inexperienced, he was fucking up into you so mean. Just in short little thrusts up like he was trying to fuck you even deeper - trying to squeeze inside more of himself impossibly. 

“Some- ah- some more, Toru-” 

He listens, and the stretch - fuck. Gojo wasn’t even trying yet, but his girth was already massaging your gummy walls so dizzyingly good. 

“Y-you’re so- ngh-” you graze your lips across his in what can barely be called a kiss. Too messy. Too depraved. “-so deep.” Sliding a hand about midway down your stomach to press down, “Can feel you all the way in here.”

Your words are sticking to Gojo like a second skin, driving him so fucking mad. Hips smacking up into you deep until his heavy balls were slapping your ass, sculpted pelvis crashing into yours.

“Stop talking.“ he spits, “Stop talking stop talking stop- talking.” Each word is punctuated by a desperate, messy stroke. Pushing you further and further up Gojo’s body from the obscene impact. “Stop hah- talking or m’gonna cum.”

He wasn’t lying - you could already feel the twitch of Gojo’ length rubbing up against your hidden sweet spots. The furious throbbing of his veins stretching out your elastic walls. 

And yet you’re still wailing stubbornly, “B-but Toru it feels so good.” Partially truth, partially because when the fuck do you get to see him so utterly wrecked like this. Sanity dancing away from him with each syrupy moan leaving your mouth, “Your cock is too good- ngh- feels-”

“Shut up.”

Gojo can only take that much of your nonsense before he’s stuffing your mean mouth full with a flimsy piece of fabric from somewhere on the bed- no. A strangely familiar pair of panties. 

“Heh, s’much ohhh fuck- better.” he beams with pride when you’re gagging and tearing up so adorably around the light blue fabric. Ramming his cock up harder - stronger, as if daring you to make a little comment about it. “Should’ve ah fuck- known you wouldn’t make it easy f’me.”

As if to prove his point, he gives your ravaged clit a little smack! before teasing and rolling his thumb exactly the way you’d taught him to with his tongue.

And he’s scrambling to sit up, carrying your boneless body with him. 

The new angle has Gojo seeing stars, penetrating your gummy walls deeper, hitting that familiar g-spot he’s mapped out by now. “Here?” he manages to cackle, a big arm wrapping around your waist. “Right here? S’my cock hitting th-that ngh- good spot? Yer pussy is fuuuck so much easier to u-understand than I ah- thought.”

Reeling back to bounce you on his thick cock. Crashing into it again. And again and again and-

Since you can’t snap back - or even beg for more - you only let out muffled little moans through the gag in your mouth. Thighs burning as you push back in pathetic little thrusts to somehow meet Gojo’s mindless cadence.

“Oh yeah?” he drags, leaning back to help you ride him properly. “Yeah yeah do i-it hah- like that. Do it juuuust like that.” A harsh thumb rolls into your clit, making you stutter and grind yourself down messily. “Fuck- Yeah ruin me- ngh- just like that.”

His words were jagged - uneven. Spitting out of his plump lips like he didn’t even know they were every time Gojo’s fat, leaky tip was gliding across your cervix, your g-spot. Leaving possessive little bruises to claim you from the inside out. 

“C-close.” you slur out, not even sure if he could hear over the dull slap of his balls on your ass, and the greedy squelches of your cunt. “More, Toru.”

Yet your sinful, sickly sweet noises have him freezing - if only for a split-second. Pussydrunk eyes going wide, jaw falling slack in such awe. 

But before you can fully appreciate this sight, he’s starting back his depraved thrusts again. Bouncing you harder - faster. Just dragging you along every ridge and bump of his swollen cock. Fingers just a needy blur toying with your poor clit. 

“M-more?” he whines into the crook of your neck, voice breaking at the end. “More. More?” He speaks up, like a mantra. Each word sending you spiraling down Gojo’s merciless cock, Panting, “Ever since you fuck- started rooming w’me, wanted this- wanted you to hah- be my first.” Holding you in such a vice-like grip as he splits you apart on his aching cock. Harder. “You’ve ruined me-” he spits against your lips, big fat tears rolling down his cheeks. “Don’ know how many times I’ve cum to your pretty panties. Ruined me- ruined me- fuck m’so close- ruined me.” Violent, even. 

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. 

And it’s only taking a few more unsteady jabs into your g-spot before a wave of euphoria is crashing over you. “Hngh-” you spasm in Gojo’s arms, his eyes going wide in wonder when your cunt squeezes him so fucking tight- only to-

“F-fuck!” he whines, connecting your lips to his. Kissing you even with your panties still stuffed into your mouth. And Gojo’s cumming and cumming so hard he doesn’t even think he’s breathing. Intertwining his tongue with yours to muffle his overstimulated moans, wrapping around your sweet slick-soaked panties in the middle. The contrast of his soft tongue with the lazy fabric of your panties only making you milk his poor cock harder. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck- fuck- Take it. Take it, my girl.”

You moan incoherently, going insane at the way he was filling you up with long, thick ropes of cum. Fucking deeper and deeper up into you to paint your plushy walls from the inside. 

“S’all I’ve- ngh wanted.” he murmurs throatily, such a fucking mess now. Face flushed, eyes glassy with tears, drool dripping down the corner of his mouth with the way he was sucking lewdly on your tongue. “You’re all I-I’ve ever wanted.”

Shit, he hasn’t cum this hard in his life.

Finally having had enough of shutting up your smart mouth, Gojo slows down to deep little grinds - still moving. Still trying to hold back his moans at that creamy ring around his hilt, at the globs of seed trickling out of your poor overfilled pussy. 

“Hah- Toru-” you whine when he pries away the fabric in your mouth. Shuddering with the swipe of his finger along your clit, “C-could almost ngh- forgive you…”

“The blue one.”

“What?” you’re staring at him in confusion, and Gojo’s fucked-out grin only spreads wider. 

“That was for the b-blue one.” you gasp when his balls suddenly squeeze so painfully underneath you. Cock jerking in interest, “Y’gonna have me make up for that whole drawer full of panties, sweetheart?”

A/N. VIRGIN GOJO BRAIN ROT GOES BRRRRRRRR

Plagiarism not authorized.

[eraserbread]

your husband, nanami, never spoke much. until his three-year-old daughter started ✧

→ toddler dad nanami, fluff

on his day off, it started before the sun rose. he's tucked by the waist in bed, sleeping beside you, his maternal, gorgeously caring wife.

it's not abnormal for your daughter, rin, to stumble out of her bed since she retired the crib, but it is abnormal for her to blatantly wake kento up. but he wakes up—he's a good dad, and his little girl probably had a nightmare.

"daddy... daddy's sleepin'?" her little voice calls from his side of the bed, too small to see over the mattress, but faithful, what she heard was true -- his voice last night after she went to bed.

ken's rolling over in bed, pressing the heel of his palm into his eyes. looking over at you, you're dead to the world. completely knocked out. "yes... daddy's sleeping, my dear."

it takes her a second, shuffling on her little bare feet. she can't really reach the side of the bed, but didn't know how to say she wanted up. instead, she chews on her thumb and demands, "rin, too."

so kento sits up, half-awake as he stretches over the side, scooping her up under the arms.

"daddy, did you work today?" kento grunts as he settles rin in a straddle over his chest. his eyes are shut, but he peeks them open to see his little girl, smiling at her ruffled sleep hair.

"yes, love."

"what do at work?"

"a lot of meetings with very annoying men."

"what does tha' mean?"

"it means i had to deal with people I didn't like. it's something of a learned skill, unfortunately. one day, you will have to answer to annoying men, though I have faith you will know how to handle them." kento's speaking with his eyes closed, his deep, slow voice low as rin settles over his chest.

she doesn't register half of that, just content with listening to her favorite person talk. so, when she gets comfortable spread across kento's torso, she thinks about her daddy at work talking to you when he gets all grumbly.

"daddy."

"yes, darling?" kento's standing at the stove as you prepare breakfast that morning, hot cup of dark coffee in his hands as rin stumbles in.

she's holding a half-eaten rice cake you gave her to hold her off, barefoot and bearing it like a prize. "my rice cake is b-brown."

"you know why that is? it's because it's chocolate flavored."

"daddy?" she continues, taking a step closer to him. "are you drinkin'?"

"mhm." he replies, taking a cool sip of his coffee. "where'd you put the sippy cup mom gave you this morning?"

the sound of your name, and you're peeking over your shoulder, blindly tending to your sizzling fish as rin runs back to her room. "anyways, other than that, her teacher says she's doing great in speech class."

"mm, i know. she talks just as much as you, now."

you can't even pretend to be shocked at his choice of words, but you hang your mouth open like you are.

"daddy! look!" rin skids to a stop in front of him, ivory sippy cup held high and proud above her head.

"alright, take a sip—just like daddy, see?" ken squats down to toddler-level, still so stoic and mindful when he's sipping noisily at his coffee. rin joins in, suckling through her straw with a similar noisy fervor. she's a tiny shadow of her dad—that's all she wants to be, with her hollowed cheeks, concentrated arch in her sharp brow, and the proud smile she exudes when kento praises her.

she's so happy. all she ever wants is her busy dad's attention, and even when he's tired or weary, kento is always sure to give his love exactly what she wants.

"yay! my baby! you're just like daddy!"