#yeah i just realized how fucked it is i can barely eat right now due to stress. like. i eat. because i feel horrid if i don't.

[hylianengineer]

You ever get called out by your own fanfic? Like, I am projecting my problems onto the blorbos, and they're fine and normal when then happen to me, but when they happen to characters they're suddenly horrifying and a sign of something deeply wrong. I did not sign up for that realization when I opened this word document.

[chrolloluvr]

May you please write Mammon x reader smut. Where the reader is short and has a size difference kink. If you do I give many thanks in advance (Seriously love this blog so much)

♡ Mammon w/ A Size Kink ♡

Note: AHHH TYSM BOOKIE!!! Also yes this has been on my mind for so long... and I have not made a proper NSFW fic yet until now. So here you go! (alot more NSFW coming soon, especially for this man...) So here are my thoughts! Also sorry if its a bit short...

AFAB, Female!Reader

Warnings: Size kink, belly bulge, penetration, overstimulation, size transformation, oral (female and male receiving) ★

The height difference makes him feral. He is at least a couple feet taller than you. So he likes to use this to his advantage. By manhandling you. he will pick you up, grab your waist, literally rip your legs off of its hinges when he pulls them apart, etc. So, he likes when you are shorter than him. It gives him a power influx, and it makes him feel supreme to you. So he will basically use you like a glorified sex doll.

He will purposely make himself transform into a couple feet taller. Like a big, scary spider. So he can intimidate you, and get you riled up. He wont have actual penetrative sex with you in his big spider form, but he will eat you out.

And he delivers very well. His tongue is huge. You feel like your in cloud 9 whenever he eats your pussy, especially because he does not do it very often.

his favorite position, especially due to his size, is Full Nelson. He likes how in this position, he has complete control over you. With his upper hands behind your knees, his hips under your own, and his lower arms circling your sensitive clit, and his other hand pussy slapping you. Sometimes, he will place you in front of a big mirror, while hammering his hips into your vice, little pussy. Also making you look at yourself, being utterly destroyed by his large cock. He will tie your ankles together with his webs when he does this.

His other favorite is picking you up, and putting his hands under your legs and throwing them over his shoulders. He enjoys listening to the skin slapping sounds, and how lude they sound. And seeing your reactions to his every harsh thrust to your G-spot. And how especially cramped you are between his body, his cock, and his arms, with a tight grip on your ass. This position makes you more sensitive and vulnerable, which is just where he wants you.

Belly Bulge. Need I say more? It makes him laugh, and chuckle about how 'your gonna take it- fuck, yeah, you like that don't you- little fuckin' slut-'

It makes him realize just how large he is compared to you. How much he effects you and your body. He craves this kind of dominance over you.

He is a little bastard. When he sees you have a belly bulge from his constant plummeting, he will press down onto it. This, as he is well aware of, makes you see stars. You become a moaning, drooling, babbling mess under his large self. Which is what he wants, of course.

The sheer size of his dick. He cant help but feel aroused, when he compares you and his cock side by side. Every now and then, he will have you sat right behind it, while he holds you, and just admire how small you are. He has to prep you for your first time together, and even every single time you guys do have sex. Simply because of the size of it. And its not just long, its girthy too. So if you dont have some prep, he might end up abominating your poor womb.

He especially likes seeing you struggle, especially when you give him head. you can barely fit your mouth around it. Your jaw gets sore within literal seconds of putting his member in your mouth. So you have to use your hands (which also barely touch eachother), for the rest of his cock.

Overstimulating you. His favorite way of overstimulation you is with his arms and hands. He will have you trapped in between his legs. One of his lower arms will be fingering your supple core; the other one circling harshly around your clit. One of his upper hands holding your waist up; the other one toying with your breast and sensitive, puffy nipples.

He also likes overstimulating you, by having you cock warm him. Its one of his favorite past times. Especially when you two try to be sneaky, like during his pageants ontop of the webbing. (should I make a whole other post about this??) He just loves feeling the warmth of your pussy against his cold self. And he wont let you move. Like at all. Unless he grabs your hips and forcibly bounces you up and down, which is after a while of waiting of course.

Dirty talk. He loves making you feel smaller, so he will talk down upon you. Everything he calls you starts with 'my', because he is very possessive. things like "my slut", "my whore", "my princess", etc. He will never talk about you in a truly bad connotation. So he will say things like:

"You like being my little slut, yeah?"

"C'mon, you can take more. don't be a baby."

"yeahhhh. Takin' it like a fuckin' champ. Good fuckin' girl-"

"Oh fuck... shit just like that"

"Ohh yeah- thats some good shit."

"Dont you dare fuckin' move."

"You feelin' good princess? Yeah I bet you are. Fittin' me like a glove."

"Awww you want more? Your gonna have to wait a bit, m'kay?"

"You want it inside? Ya' want daddy to fill ya' up real nice?"

So overall, he favors when you are small and meek. Just be a good girl for him, and you wont have to worry about his intimidation, okay?

[maryawrites]

Sfumato - Chapter 11

It was hard to write this one because I've spent all of the last two days going on and coming off of drugs cyclically. I pretty sure you can tell in this chapter. Yeah, (Name) has a TBI. Supplemental: religious shame turns people into huge sexual freaks and maladaptive masochists (Personal experience).

CW: religious themes and religious trauma, ugly burning yearning at the worst of times, (Name) is fucking allergic to making good decisions (I did say this was semi-autobiographical), traumatic brain injuries/concussions, mentions of physical trauma, flaky unhealthy friendship, slightly homoerotic friendships, spontaneity and poor impulse control due to neurological trauma, like one mention of blowing up someone's car, Wade Wilson, referenced physical assault and fighting, the (Name) in this is a little stupid but that's what character development (and medical help) is for

Divider by @/saradika

  Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

  “Fuck.” I mutter under my breath as I continue down the rest of the way down the hall, since it appears I’m being dragged out of my hiding place with the sweet siren call of-

  Food. Food. Yeah. 

  And any of my shame is both washed away and doubled at the kind greeting I receive. “Oh, Jesus- Back to your quarters, Quasimodo. We have company right now.” Wade hisses, eyeing me with a sense of disgust I knew would arise. It hurts. Badly. 

  It takes me a long moment of standing in the doorway self-consciously before Logan finally catches my eye, shoving Wade in a way that’s almost corrective. “That’s not funny.” He deadpans, without even so much as sparing a glance my way. 

  …That was a joke. Wade didn’t mean it, he was making a joke. Oh.

  They both confuse me to no end. It’s horrible. 

  “Okay, anyways,” Wade moves on without missing a stride, turning with a can in either hand. “Chicken noodle or tomato?”

  “Uh… what?” I struggle, looking between his hands and his face. Now that I’m getting a good look at him again, I see why he wouldn’t be arrogant enough to make any jokes about my bruising. 

  He just sighs, tossing a can at me, which I barely manage to catch, earning a glare from Logan that I think is all too vague. Perhaps he’s simply not feeling well, like he’s hungover. I understand how being around someone so active can make you feel antsy yet tired. But my sympathetic train of thought is disrupted when Wade answers me. “Soup, trap mouth. What do you want- chicken noodle soup, or tomato soup? He got cream of chicken, too, but… ehh. I personally think that you’ve been through enough.”

  “Chick-” I start before being interrupted by Logan, who turns to Wade in pissy confusion. “What the hell is your problem with cream of chicken? I thought you said you’d eat anything.” He questions hardly. 

  “Oh, trust me, peanut, if I wanted to know what a chicken’s semen tasted like, I’d just do a better job of seducing you.” Wade replies offhandedly, turning back to the can still in his grasp, reading it intently. I watch his nose wrinkle in disgust at something I can’t identify. It looks like a regular can to me.

  “You’re disgusting.” Logan growls, turning back to the remaining eight cans on the table, messing with them. Hm? I take a wary step forward, peeking around the look at his handiwork. The grocery bag is already gone. Why’s he rearranging them so much?

  “You know what is disgusting? This salty crap. I asked you to get the sodium free variant. You’re going to kill us all.” Wade sasses back, settling the can back on the table before picking up one from Logan’s bunch, giving it a good look as well. If I were Logan, I’d be quite offended, but I realize how weird it is to be possessive over soup cans, and shut down that thought process. I should go somewhere else, away from all of this. 

  Oh, there’s the answer to all of my suffering- God won’t kill me because he’s so confused by my thought process that he doesn’t know what to think. He can’t kill me because he doesn’t know what he'd do with me after. 

  Well, there’s my closure. 

  I step away from the room quietly, slipping off into my kitchen. It’s so odd to have people around. I haven’t had anyone over- other than our landlord, on rare occasion, and Lily, briefly last night- since I moved in. And I definitely haven’t had anyone who’s life dips so closely to mine that it almost feels like we’re… friends. I’m not sure what makes someone your friend. Lily just sort of claimed me, but I don’t think these two are my friends. That seems immature, to think they’re my friends. The last thing I want to be is childish. 

  This is neighbors doing neighborly things. I think.

  I try to distract myself from their presence and background arguing by taking a good look at my own soup can, finding it to be condensed chicken noodle soup. Perhaps I’ve never given Wade enough credit- he’s a bit of a magician in his own right. I’ll repeat my point from earlier this week: he isn’t omniscient or anything, he just does horrible things so well that it makes me think. This is what I would’ve asked for if I had gotten some room to speak. But I have it, so it doesn’t matter. 

  My eyes dry out in the light quickly, searching for a pot. My head seems to go from vaguely throbbing to pounding behind my eyes as I lean down to look in my cabinets. I know I have one good one. Yes- I do. Finally, something normal about today. I choose not to think about work until tomorrow. They’ll move on by then. 

  I just need to get rid of my face. 

  No, no- better yet, I need to get rid of… this. I feel like I’ve been too loose the whole time they’ve been here. I haven’t been myself, I’ve been something different. Something unfamiliar, and uncharted, and murky. But not necessarily new, which is scarier than if it had been new. God, if I keep thinking so weirdly, I’m going to start acting weirdly, which isn’t something you want to do around people after getting knocked around. 

  I clear my throat, ignoring the thunder in my skull as I peek around the corner, looking back into my combination dining room-living room- I’m living off of a waitress’ salary, after all- taking in the two bickering off-handedly. It’s not even a proper argument anymore. Just conversation. It’s one of those intimate snippy conversations that I don’t think I could ever achieve. 

  I’m doing it again. Being a voyeur, peeking around corners. 

  I pull myself back in, shutting them out in my mind. I will distract myself with this.

  Getting the pot on the stove- easy.

  Starting the heat- easy. 

  Opening the can-… not as easy. Which shocks me. Because it’s fucking Campbell’s soup, for God’s sake, I’ve opened more cans than I’ve heard a decent joke in my life. 

  I try again with my left hand, holding it in place with my right. I put my back into it, trying to peel back the pull tab. What the fuck? 

  I glance back over my shoulder to the doorway, gritting my teeth- big mistake, I nearly choke on the pain that shoots through my face and jaw. I turn back to the can, gripping it harder and pulling again. Seriously? Last I checked, it was my head that got busted, not my wrist. 

  I hear footsteps coming and switch hands quickly, peeling it open with a familiar ease. Huh. So I guess not everything is twisted into something unordinary. 

  I glance up at the analogue clock on my wall as Wade rounds the corner into my kitchen, confusion filling me at the time. 

  “This isn’t breakfast. This isn't even lunch. It’s five p.m.. What did you have to eat earlier?” I question irritably, turning to look at him, though he gives me little notice as he goes right to my fridge. 

  “Nothing. I told you- this is breakfast, fcuked-up-girl-next-door-trope.” 

  “No. This is dinner. Why haven’t you eaten until now?” I insist, staring holes into the back of his head, any thought of eating slipping from my own pounding head. It’s probably about ninety percent hot air in there, yet it hurts so bad. Probably just hunger. 

  Oh, right, my soup.

  “No one- No one was really hungry, you know, watching you lie there. You looked comatose.” Wade answers, but I can hear the disappointment in his voice as he looks around my fridge. He’s looking for something to drink. That makes me tread lighter. 

  “...I didn’t think watching me sleep was so fulfilling.” I offer, trying to make a joke. He seems to like jokes. And even if it isn’t a good joke, he can still make one out of me for trying. 

  But I don’t even get mocked. “It isn’t.” He sighs, shutting the fridge door in dissatisfaction, leaving with a brief “I’m going to get something from our place. Don’t get the shit beat out of you again while I’m gone, please.”

  “Oh, uh-” I start to say something, but my hesitance is rewarded with empty silence as he leaves before I can speak. Disappointment sinks deeper into my belly. 

  Five p.m. drinking. This is where I’m at, now, in life. Great. 

  You know, it really would be great if God could just finish the job already. I think he got pretty close last night. It was last night, wasn’t it? I consider, turning back to my pot, emptying the can into it. It was last night, wasn’t it? I can’t remember, but it seems about right. I mean, what are the chances that I was asleep for more than one day? Surely someone would’ve done something.

  I think.

  I have hope that they would.

  I fumble the can while filling it with water, distracted by my own ponderings. I scramble to catch it, dipping my hand into it impulsively and slicing my index finger on a jagged edge where the top of the can once was. Now, here’s my greatest challenge- what do we all do when we’re in pain? Clench our jaws. Only problem is, if I clench my jaw, I’m going to disintegrate.

  I yank my hand back from the sink, pressing my finger to my sweater just impulsively as I had when I’d cut it. Damn it all. I raise my hand back up, popping my finger in my mouth to soothe the sting and suck off the blood, careful to avoid any of my teeth. But even that does not quite feel the same. 

  I give it up after a moment, wiping my finger on my sweatpants- getting bloody saliva on my clothes for the second time in the last twenty-four hours- before successfully filling the can with water and returning to my pot, adding it.

  While I’m over the stove I get a horrible feeling, then the thought that quickly follows- if my teeth are ruined, I’ll likely need braces. It hits me like a truck. Not only am I meager as is, but braces? Yes, perhaps a good repellent for ensuring I remain sane around Logan, but I have other parts of my life. I don’t want to be an adult with braces. What would that say about me? Oh, my grandmother would have a fit about it, an absolute fit because of what it implies about her care of me.

  It haunts my mind as I watch the condensed soup meld with the water, stirring it tentatively and ignoring my surroundings for a moment to watch how they slowly combine. But the little semblance of peace I briefly attain is shattered when a voice comes from the doorway to my kitchen. 

  “How did you end up like that?” Logan asks blandly, before he says anything else, or even just alerts me to his presence. When I spin around, I nearly stumble, only barely managing to catch myself before I can make it obvious. Perhaps ‘blandly’ isn’t the right adverb- there’s something there. Something. But he appears too unperturbed for me to make a proper assessment. I’ve never been the best at reading people, anyways. 

  “Uh… what?” I reply, rough with surprise and shameful embarrassment. I never realized how different it was to be alone with Logan, versus what it’s been like to be around him with Wade present. This is the first time I’ve ever really interacted with him alone. 

  His eyes flit around the space uncomfortably, as if it’s difficult to so much as speak with me. I know there’s something about me he doesn’t quite like, but this only feels all the worse with my newfound appearance. “What,” He repeats, a bit more slowly. “Happened to make you end up like that? What did you get into?”

  Oh. That’s what this is about. I didn’t think he’d care too much. A bruise is a bruise is a bruise. 

  “A fight.” I respond briefly, clipping my voice off as I turn back to my pot, trying to shove his presence completely out of my mind. 

  “I didn’t think you were the type to get into those types of fights.”

  “Maybe I am the type.” I mutter half-heartedly, zeroing in on the off-white still-cool soup in my pot, doing anything but thinking about how the floorboard creeeeaaaks under his weight when he takes a step forward. At least now I’m aware that he’s moving. Which… somehow isn’t as easing as I thought it’d be. 

  He’s heavy. My God, he’s big. 

  He huffs somewhere behind me. “What would you have to fight over that would be worth that?” 

  My friend got drunk and went to bomb her exploitative ex-boyfriend’s car, and I went with her because I was scared she would get arrested, and her ex-boyfriend came outside before we could get away and went after me instead of her, and it was weirdly refreshing and erotic, and all I could think of was you. “Just things. It escalated.”

  “It ‘escalated’, and you had to be dragged up the stairs like a carcass?” I need him to just drop it. Now that I’ve started thinking about it, I can’t stop. It’s this uncomfortable feeling under my skin, like I’ve found a shortcut I shouldn't take. I didn’t like getting hit. I don’t like getting hit. 

  But. 

  “Yes. So, that’s it. Do you want something, or…?” I question, trying to put distance between us without sparing a glance in his direction. I can’t keep doing this. He won’t let me in, and, anyways, I shouldn't be trying to get close to him, anyways. That’s not good. I’m not good. 

  I was supposed to be better. 

  Silence fills the kitchen thickly, swallowing up any of my misguided hopes for saying more to him. I feel his eyes on the back of my head, staring holes into the back of it before he leaves wordlessly, my shoulders loosening at the sudden loss. It’s not quite a relief. It’s just… less stressful. I reach up to my face silently, nervously taking the skin of my cheek between two fingers and twisting. Pain explodes in my face, and things feel like they’re set somewhere closer to normal. I bet I’ll be better by tomorrow.

  Wait. 

  Wait. Wait one fucking second. 

  Okay, I’m not a conspiracy theorist or anything, right? I’m not insane. Well, I might be a little insane, but I’m not diagnosed. And, look, everyone knows that Wade is Deadpool, because you’d seriously have to be an idiot not to. Also, he’s kind of worn the mask in the halls before. He’s… not the best at maintaining the ‘secret’ part of a secret identity. 

  But that’s not the point. 

  I’m not crazy crazy, all right? But I am ninety fucking percent sure that Logan is a mutant. Okay, that’s not the crazy part, stay with me- not only is he a mutant, he’s the fucking Wolverine. 

  I should… probably stop saying ‘fuck’. But I have a point. He literally looks just like him, but a little older, and a little more wounded, but it’s the same. Wade hangs around X-Men all the time, right? 

  I’m a genius. Holy Hell, I cracked the code. Or… maybe I really do have a traumatic brain injury.

  I sneak around the corner in my own home, keeping a careful eye out for anyone as I slip just far enough out of my kitchen to collect some tennis shoes and retreat back to the stove, leaning on it heavily as I pull them on. 

  Look- Yes, I have guests over. But I don’t exactly have anything of worth, and I don’t think they’d do that, anyways. Besides, I’m an adult. I can do what I want. Even when I’m kind of at-risk. 

  I slip over to the window in my kitchen, glancing over my shoulder before unlocking and trying it, jolting it open with a muffled groan. Everything hurts. 

  I’m moving way faster than I can think about it. It’s like nothing I’m doing is going through the filters in my brain. 

  I’m very careful to be silent when sliding it up, going as slowly as possible, getting it open just enough to crawl over my counter and out of it, tumbling into the fire escape gracelessly. No one cares. It’ll be fine. 

  I want to tell someone. But, evidently, I don’t have many people. Who do I have? Lily. She’s not… the best. But she’s not bad. I don’t know anyone else who would practically carry me to bed. And I forgive her for hitting me that one time, because I know it was pretty much my fault. 

  So. Fire Escape. Yeah. 

[aajjks]

GHL!JK

“You know, I meant what I said back there. I don’t want to fight with you. You’re too important to me for that.”

your heart stops, skips a beat, and it’s so hard to contain the butterflies you feel in your tummy. when he said it the first time, you didn’t think too much about it. what if he’s saying those things with hopes it’ll butter you up and let him back in? but when he tells you again how important you are, how much he cares—siiiiiigh. you’re such a sucker for him, but you can’t help it. you like him SO. MUCH. a little too much.

you don’t hide your excited smile when jungkook hands you the waffle cone until he brings up your less than ‘vanilla’ actions with him. too shy to respond, you eat a spoonful of the cold treat and follow jungkook to a nearby bench, not forgetting to grab a second spoon. “here” you say, handing him the spoon with hopes he’ll take it and eat with you. it isn’t until you demand jungkook to eat the ice cream with you that he takes the spoon.

you scoot closer to jungkook, so close that your thigh is touching his, and his amber-vanilla scent fills your nostrils; fuck, he smells amazing.

“jungkook?” the way you shyly say his name makes his heart skip a beat. you’ve got the prettiest voice with the prettiest eyes and face. anything you want, anything you need, if you call his name just like that, he would never tell you ‘no.’ “can you be honest? do you—,” you’re interrupted by jungkook buzzing cellphone. you can’t make out the name on his screen, but judging from the look on jungkook’s face, it seems important. he tells you to give him ‘one second’ before answering the phone.

“hey kookie! please tell me you have a sec, it’s a 411 emergency and i need your advice on something”

your heart drops when you hear an unfamiliar female voice.

~🫧

Jungkook tenses, but it’s not because he’s nervous but rather because he’s annoyed due to the interruption.

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate for a second when Winter’s voice chirps through the phone.

His lips curl into a scowl, and he shifts in his seat, casually leaning back on the bench. He can feel your eyes on him, but he doesn’t look at you…

not yet.

“Winter,” he greets barely managing to hide the annoyance in his voice, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “What’s up?”

“Oh my god, Kookie, I’m so glad you answered!” Winter’s voice is loud enough for you to hear, and it makes your stomach churn. “I have this major emergency, and I knew you’d be the perfect person to help me!”

Why is she so fucking annoying?

Jungkook glances at you then, he smirks because he can tell that you are a little jealous.

“Emergency?” he asks, “I mean, I’d help you, but…” He trails off deliberately, his gaze locking on you now, his smirk deepening.

“I’m kind of in the middle of something important right now.”

Winter pauses on the other end. “Important? What’s more important than saving me right now?” she pouts, her tone playful but clearly fishing.

How cringe.

Jungkook chuckles, low and rich, “Oh, I don’t know, Winter. I’d say being on a date with yn counts as pretty important, don’t you think?”

Your head snaps up at his words, eyes wide, and you find him watching you with that cocky, teasing grin that drives you crazy.

He doesn’t even try to hide the amusement in his eyes as he winks at you.

“A… a date?” Winter stammers on the other end, her voice faltering for the first time. “Oh. Wow. I didn’t realize you were—;”

“Busy?” Jungkook finishes for her smoothly, his voice all charm. “Yeah, I figured you didn’t. But hey, don’t worry about it. I’ll let you know if I have time to save the day later.”

You bite your lip, trying to hide the way his words make your heart race.

He’s so infuriatingly confident, so damn sure of himself—and yet…

Winter lets out a nervous laugh. “Right. Well, don’t let me interrupt your… date,” she says, though her tone is noticeably less enthusiastic.

Jungkook feels a great sense of satisfaction right now and he hums in acknowledgment, his eyes still locked on yours as he responds.

“Okay now I think I’m gonna talk to the professor about changing partners because I don’t think I have time to work with you.”

He’s not even saying that to impress you she just really pisses him off, but if it’s helping him to appeal more in your eyes, he’s grateful for that.

And it seems like that it does because..

Your jaw drops at that, and you swat at his arm, your cheeks burning. But he only laughs, clearly enjoying how flustered you are.

“Anyway, gotta go, Winter,” he says casually, already moving to end the call. “Good luck with… whatever it is you’re dealing with.”

He hangs up before she can reply, slipping his phone back into his pocket and turning to you fully now.

Jungkook shrugs, leaning in closer, his lips tugging into a slow, dangerous smile. “ I hope you don’t mind…” he murmurs, his voice low enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“Oh, but I had to be a little mean, you know… and this is a date so I told her yeah I did,”, his grin widening. “I had to make sure she knows her place.”

He winks at you.

Your breath hitches, and he leans in even closer, his eyes locking with yours in that way that makes the world around you disappear.

“And just so you know,” he adds, his voice soft but firm, “you are the center of my attention. Always.”

He is loving how easily he disarms you, how his words turn your resolve to mush.

But as his fingers brush yours, and his gaze softens just enough to make your heart ache, he hopes you realize you don’t mind.

Not when it’s him.

[galaxyprincx]

growing up 'alternately', for lack of a better word, is so interesting once you grow up. Like, its not like you had a *bad* childhood but you had it rough for sure. And yeah you weren't the worst off, but there were days where you didn't get a say in what you ate if only because the food bank is only open once a month, the check hasn't hit the bank yet, you're still in between towns this morning and you won't find a store for another 100 miles if you're lucky. I had toys, sure. They weren't the popular trends that literally every other kids seems to remember from my decade- they were hand-me-downs, picked out of dollar store bins, rewards from the hospital staff, out of a trash bag of cheap gifts from the fire station of whatever town we landed in that Christmas.

My childhood foods when i had a choice were mac 'n' cheese like everyone else or the gas station-specific brand of cream cheese danishes and a bottle of bug juice. And you grow up viewing this almost as normal because you barely talk to any other kids(which in retrospect might have had more to due you being undiagnosed than your living situation.) so its not a big deal. You're a little unlucky, but a lot of people live in their cars or with their family with no leverage or safety to leave if it gets unhealthy.

And then you recall stories of sleeping on a pile of stuff in the back seat of a car, so tall you were snug against the ceiling and now every car ride knocks you right out while its impossible to ever fall asleep easily in a bed. And everyone just kind of stares at you and you begin to realize you're not just a weirdo cause you're a fuckin weirdo, but you grew up around disabled and poor adults several decades old then most of your peers' parents who treated pain and being sick without meds or medication was entirely normal. And then maybe, maybe, you have older siblings who are still several decades older than you and with their own kids already. So you get a second parent and some nieces/nephews that you get raised alongside and then you really feel 'normalized'. Until you tell your friends about that too, and they note that you know too much about how to deal with cops and you realize maybe that wasn't exactly 'normal' either.

And it's not like it's bad or you were traumatized by these things specifically(there are plenty of things that *did*), but they weren't right either. It was just growing up, but it puts you on the outside of your peers until you're almost an adult. And maybe its the neurodivergence and queerness and mental health also playing a role, but even there you're not quite in the majority. Not quite out of it either, though.

Or maybe it was all just a symptom of it- not that either one matters. even if the chicken came first, there's still an egg and now you have to deal with it. But there's no handbook- there isn't one for anyone anyway- but good lord does it feel alienating anyway. Lonely, even. But you're kind of used to that. So its fine. Even when its not. Cause what else are you gonna do? At least now you can buy food you want- you've learned to deal with all the things that never made sense to anyone before. You learned that having control over what you get to eat is so much better and also the worst fucking thing ever. I don't have some big thing about how it gets better cause sometimes it honestly doesn't. Sometimes it just stays the same and you learn to bear it, and then sometimes it gets heavier. You don't have to be grateful either way, but sometimes the way things are teaches you things. And sometimes it's just baggage you get to drag around forever.

[its-just-raven]

Incorrect Restart Heart Quotes:

Warning! Some of these might be inconsistent lmao but I tried my hardest😁! Also this is a 18+ game so even though none of this is explicitly nsfw, minors BEGONE

MC/Sugar:

MC: I’m going to defeat you with the power of friendship! ... And this knife I found.

-

MC: So apparently the 'bad vibes' I’ve been feeling are actually severe psychological distress

-

MC: BEHOLD, the field in which I grow my fucks! Lay thine eyes upon it, and thou shalt see that it is barren!

-

MC: With great power comes great need to take a nap. Wake me up later.

-

MC: Not trying to brag or anything, but I can wake up without an alarm clock now simply due to my crippling and overwhelming anxiety, so...

-

MC: Well, well, well... if it isn’t my old friend: the dawning realization that I fucked up bad.

-

MC: You wanna see how hardcore I am?
MC: *punches wall*
MC:
MC: Take me to the hospital.

Ezra:

Ezra: People are always asking me if I'm a morning person or a night person. 
Ezra: And I'm just like, 'Buddy! I'm barely even a PERSON!'

-

MC: Can we watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl?
Ezra: Yeah sure.
MC: -And make out during the scary parts.
Ezra: Th-
Ezra: The scary parts.

Ezra: Of Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

Blaire:

Blaire: If you can’t beat them, dress better than them

-

Blaire: When someone points at your black clothes and asks whose funeral it is, having a look around the room and saying 'Haven’t decided yet' is typically a good response.

-

Blaire: 'Person of interest' is almost too flattering. 
Person A: Like, if the police were to pound on my door and go, 'A man has been murdered in your building and you are a person of interest,' I'd be like, 'Moi? Oh, do go on.'

-

MC: Okay, truth or dare?
Blaire: Truth
MC: How many hours have you slept this week?
Blaire:
Blaire: ...Dare
MC: Go to bed.
Blaire: I don’t like this game.

Sammy:

Sammy: So apparently the 'bad vibes' I’ve been feeling are actually severe psychological distress

-

MC: That’s one of my biggest fears. Like, if I ever woke up as a donut...
Sammy: You would eat yourself?
MC: I wouldn’t even question it.

-

Ezra: Don’t worry, I have a few knives up my sleeve.
Sammy: I think you mean cards.
Ezra, pulling knives out of their sleeves: No, I do not.

Steph:

(I could see this going either way tbh)

MC: I actually have a black belt.
Steph: In what, karate?
MC: No, from Gucci.

Chris:

Chris: You know how I roll. 
Chris: And I’m not talking about that time I fell into a pile of dung at the foot of a hill.

-

MC: Three words. Say them and I'm yours.
Chris: Three words.
MC:

-

Chris: WHAT’S YOUR TYPE 
MC: Anything, honestly, but nerds especially 
Chris, desperately, as MC bleeds out: YOUR BLOOD TYPE 
MC: Oh! B positive. 
Chris: DONT TRY TO CHEER ME UP JUST TELL ME YOUR BLOOD TYPE 
MC:

Bess:

Bess, going over MCs's resume: Okay, so right here, it states that you’re creative.
MC: Yes
Bess: Okay... may I know what you create?
MC, without missing a beat: Problems.

-

Bess: What is your biggest weakness?
MC: I can be uncooperative.
Bess: Okay, can you give me an example?
MC: No.

Kenneth:

Kenneth: I was born for politics. I have great hair and I love lying.

Sarah:

Sarah: You saved me. I owe you my life.
Kenneth: No thanks. I’ve seen it and I’m not very impressed.

-

Kenneth: Is something burning?
Sarah: Just my love for you.
Kenneth: Sarah, the toaster is on fire.

-

Kenneth, trying to make MC jealous: Sarah and I have the kind of easy chemistry where we finish each other's- 
Sarah: Sentences. 
Kenneth: Don't interrupt me.

Bonus! Eliana

Eliana: Goodnight moon.
Eliana: Goodnight tree.
Eliana: Goodnight ghosts that only I can see.

Ezra: ???

[sukirichi]

— out of reach | gojo x reader

request: Girllllll I just read your jealous gojo fic and my heart went 📈📈📈📈💥💥💥 youre now one of my fav writers 🙏🧎‍♀️And the spicy parts 😫😫😫 💖 If your asks are still open, could I please request a fic where GOJO has a size kink 🥺🥺🥺 my 5’1 ass is obsessed with that shizzzz 

pov: you’re gojo’s childhood friend and roommate – which leads to utter chaos – or perhaps utter bliss?

warnings: size kink, lots of teasing, lots of cursing, dirty talk, choking (probably not in the way you think), body worship, lots of size difference scenes, slight manhandling, overstimulation, thigh fucking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (don’t do this irl guys) + unedited fic :D

notes: idk what happened here LMAOOO but i loved writing this one because i’m short as hell too lol. thanks for this request anon, i hope you like it! <3

word count: 10.5k

masterlist ! 

If you’re going to be honest, having Gojo as a roommate is something completely unexpected.

Not only are you two from entirely different worlds – him as a jujutsu sorcerer and you as an average human who can’t see curses – but he’s also just someone who is entirely out of your league. He’s respected and looked up to in his field of work, while half of your co-workers don’t even know your name, much less notice you in function parties where you mostly just nibble on sushi before calling it a day and turning back home.

You and Gojo met in elementary school. You could tell from the way he’s surrounded by servants and stern looking adults, firm hands on his small shoulders, that he was different from everyone else.

Apparently, he comes from one of the three big clans in the jujutsu world or whatever. You honestly don’t care about any of that, because Gojo refuses to act maturely about his role in the clan. You still remember how quiet he was on the first day of school, never smiling and keeping to himself despite your persuasion to eat lunch with him or play with him after school in the courtyard.

You miss that Gojo Satoru – the quiet, serious kid who was far too gentle in his actions yet firm in his words and beliefs. When you were still a little girl, you admired how he seemed older than his age, a wistful look in those azure blue eyes of his that you’ve always loved.

To you, Gojo Satoru was your hero. You’ve always been one of the shortest kids in class, and it didn’t help that you really loved pigtails all the way until middle school that made you an easy target from immature people who’s being hit way too fast by puberty and growing each passing day. You never minded your short stature because really, it’s just height, but you couldn’t ignore how your confidence dwindled each day when they called you several array of nicknames.

Too shy to fight back, you’d laugh it off or force a smile.

Gojo wasn’t having any of it. He’d break his silence and immediately pull you to his side (which only made things worse because Gojo was one of the tallest kids in class, further emphasizing how small you are right next to him) before threatening to smack the kids right in the face.

The threat should be enough to land him detention, but because he’s Gojo Satoru, the golden kid everyone loved, they took his word seriously.

At the age of eleven, you started seeing your best friend as your knight in shining armour. Gojo basked in this, growing protective and always glaring at whoever snickered when you walked past them. Sometimes he even bared his teeth to hiss at them, which was honestly so ridiculous now that you think about, though the message – the threat – always came across loud and clear.

So yeah, you love Gojo, you still do.

Years flew by and the two of you grew apart due to work and also as a part of growing up. You still kept in contact, messaging each other once a month to ask the other how they’re doing. His work kept him extremely busy though, and Gojo didn’t want you involved in the dangers of what he’s doing, so he makes sure to keep a safe distance.

Until six months ago, you hear a banging on your door. You’re just about ready to throw hands because your former roommate moved out to live with her stoner boyfriend, leaving you to shoulder all the bills and responsibilities of maintaining a two man apartment.

A sneer forms on your lips as you swing the door open, a scowl already on your face. You assumed it was your roommate who returned to get the pair of lace panties they left in their room, but instead, your childhood friend stands before you, taller (seriously, how has he not stopped growing?) and definitely a lot hotter than the last time you saw him.

One thing leads to another, and now it feels like there was never such distance between the two of you with how easily you both fell back into a comfortable – yet chaotic – rhythm and routine of being each other’s roommate.

Not that you mind, of course. Gojo’s definitely changed a lot from when you were kids. He’s no longer that stiff or sensitive when it comes to others. In fact, it seems like he loosens up a lot more with age, because you can barely recognize the man living under the same roof with you now.

For one thing, Gojo is loud. Like really talkative, won’t shut the fuck up and speaks like he’s in a screaming contest with someone. It doesn’t matter if you’re taking an important phone call or sleepwalking at three in the morning to pee, Gojo is always creating some sort of ruckus.

You’d never admit it out loud, but you loved it. You love him.

He’s definitely a lot more enthusiastic and fun to be with now that both of you have grown up, or in Gojo’s case, simply aged. His maturity reversed backwards because it feels like you’re taking care of a little kid.

Not only does his body clock is practically non-existent, he’s also horrible when it comes to taking care of himself and being punctual with work.

Fortunately for him, you love him, and you both leave for work at the same time. You always wake up earlier to prepare breakfast so you’d both have energy to start the day – although you highly doubt there’s really anything that depletes his endless source of one.

Sleepily walking through the kitchen with your fist rubbing at your eyes, you rummage through the refrigerator for some eggs when you realize there’s none.

Huh, you think to yourself, scratching your scalp. You’re sure that Gojo went grocery shopping last week since it’s his chore to do the outside stuff like buying groceries and throwing thrash, so where did it go?

You open shelf by shelf, checking each corner and shoving cans aside to look for the tray. With a glare, you stand on your tiptoes to pull the pantry open, only to have your mouth fall aghast because it’s all there – right at the back where you can’t reach it!

Fucking Satoru, you grit your teeth while heaving your body up onto the counter. It’s a struggle because not only are your muscles still half asleep, but because the shelf is right in your face, and if you’re not careful enough, you could hit it right with your face and fall over. Of fucking course you know Satoru did this to make fun of you – and now you retract your statement over your best friend.

It’s all a lie.

He’s a pain in the ass. Why do you even bother cooking for him and letting him live literally just a room away when you know he won’t stop pulling shit like this?

Because, the nagging voice in your head tries to mock, he’s your best friend and you can’t really say no to him. This makes you huff as you carefully pull the tray towards you, hooking two fingers at the edge while your other palm grips at the end of the counter for support. No thanks to your short limbs, you’re practically hogging the shelf by now in an attempt to reach it. You look ridiculous, that’s for sure, and you make a mental note to keep Satoru’s windows open tonight so he freezes to death –

“Aw, cupcake,” a sing-song voice emerges from the other side of the room. “You look so adorable. You should’ve woke me up if you need my help.”

“Fuck off, Satoru,” you flip him off. The man only laughs, the rambunctious sound echoing off the walls. It’s way too early in the morning and he’s already so damn loud; something builds up at the back of your head out of frustration already. His grin only gets wider when you finally got the eggs and clutch it your chest, setting it down on the counter while wiping your sweat away from your face. “Freeloader,” you mutter under your breath, ignoring him when he happily skips over to you.

“Ouch,” he places a palm over his chest, although you both know he’s never really affected by anything. “So what’s for breakfast today? You?”

“You know, I can kick you out anytime I want. I’m being extremely nice even going as far to cook you breakfast before you leave for work, so don’t test my patience.”

“Exactly, my best friend is so kind,” Satoru grows the audacity to rest his arm on your head. This triggers a reflexive response from you; shoulders tensing up and hands curling into fists beside you. “I would totally date her if she wasn’t such a temperamental little devil,” you nearly stab him with a fork with his statement, which he thinks he’s being so sly for but you heard it, and you’re most definitely not pleased with it. “Okay, I’m kidding! I’m going to go shower now!”

You roll your eyes at him and heat the pan over with some oil, muttering under your breath that you’re really going to kick him out soon. As if things couldn’t get worse – as if Satoru couldn’t get any worse – he smacks your backside in the process before darting to the showers.

“Gojo Satoru!”

“Morning, best friend, love ya!”

You were right. He is a pain in the ass.

“You don’t always have to walk me to work.”

“I know.”

“So why’re you still here? I’m not a little kid anymore,” Contrary to your words, you stick closer to Satoru when the morning rush of workers and students begin to crowd the streets. Your best friend notices this with a small smile, his hand resting on the small of your back. “Don’t even try, Satoru.”

“I wasn’t saying anything.”

“I know that look on your face,” you fiddle with the buttons of your uniform, sighing when Satoru follows you inside the bus after tapping your phone for two seats. It’s not a surprise to you anymore that most of your expenses are spent by him, for him, and he lazily sprawls his long limbs across the seat before you pulling you down right next to him.

As much as you hate this man, especially because he smirks at the attention he’s receiving from women – even men – in the bus, you have to admit he’s warm and smells damn good. You bite the inside of your cheeks, looking around in slight self-consciousness before inching a little closer, just to feel his warmth. He’s comforting – irrationally so – so you set your bag between the both of you to keep your sanity. “If you keep doing this, Principal Yaga might fire your ass because you’re never on time.”

“Trust me, cupcake, he won’t. I’m too valuable for that.”

How you saw that coming – you can’t tell anymore. The bus ride is relatively quiet and eventless, with you dozing off every now and then because you’re never a morning person. Thankfully, Satoru is more respectful this time around, lolling your head until it drops to his shoulder. After that, he snakes his arm around your waist before resting it on your thigh as a way to say you don’t have to head bang every damn second and just sleep.

On any other occasion, you would’ve hated it. You always look so small whenever you’re in Satoru’s presence. It doesn’t help that he’s long and lanky, either, his slender fingers effortlessly caressing your thigh while almost your entire body is flushed next to him. But right now, he’s too warm, too soft, and you’re too tired that for just a little bit, you allow yourself to relax.

A beeping wakes you up a moment later. Opening your eyes, you push yourself off Satoru when you see an old lady reaching for the handles. No one gave up their seats for her even as the bus driver asked her to find a seat lest she’d fall.

“Grandma, here, take my seat—” You’re about to stand up and offer it to her when Satoru tugs you by the wrist. Because of your small, wobbly composure, pulling you to him takes little to no effort. You end up on his lap, sitting on him as if you’re nothing but a small, dainty schoolbag. Satoru is clearly enjoying this because you feel him breathily laugh on the back of your neck, charming – annoyingly so – as he gestures to the now empty spot beside him.

“It’s no worries, Grandma. She’ll be fine,” he gestures to you, patting your head like you’re some puppy. “Please, take a seat. The bus is already moving.”

“Satoru, get off me,” You wriggle yourself from his hold, which only ends up in wasted effort because this big oaf doesn’t even budge. He even bounces you on one of his thighs, and you dig your nails into his arms as a silent plead for him to stop. He ignores this, ignores your small whines and the apparent embarrassment that has you debating whether to punch him or hide yourself in the safety of his uniform.

“She’s a feisty little one, isn’t she?”

The old lady watches the two of you banter, giggling behind her wrinkled hands. “You’re an adorable couple.”

“I think so too!”

“You’re so going to pay for this, Satoru,” you grumble, face planted onto your palms. This is it – the worst day of your life. It’s even worse because despite your protests, you have to admit his lap is actually comfortable. You’ve already known this before after countless times of cuddling with Satoru during movie nights, but its different when you’re both out in public. It feels...oddly intimate and maybe even romantic when he rubs soothing circles at your back, almost as if apologizing for this event. Most of all, you just hate the way something pools beneath your stomach at having him so close to you like this. “This is so embarrassing. I’m practically crushing you with my weight.”

“Please, cupcake, you barely weigh anything. I could easily lift you off with just my finger,” when you elbow him in the chest, Satoru only laughs, raising both hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’ll stop teasing.”

You give up. No one seems to be paying much attention to any of you anyway, so you sigh, letting yourself hide in the crook of his neck as you watch the city pass through the windows. Your body moves as his chest rises and falls from his breathing, the movement oddly comforting. It’s embarrassing – it really is – but at least the grandma was comfortable until Satoru drops you off near your building.

“You don’t have to walk me all the way there.”

“Why not? You don’t want people to see us together or something?”

“No,” you stare at him from the corner of your eye. It’s no secret Satoru is attractive. This bastard knows it too, judging from the way he confidently and arrogantly swaggers next to you, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he walked with no care in the world. “My co-workers keep asking me for your number every time I tell them we’re not dating. It’s getting annoying at this point how they go Satoru this and Satoru that.”

“Am I hearing it right? Is cupcake jealous?”

“I’m not jealous, I’m disgusted,” you correct, “They don’t know how much of a pain you are to have around. They’re so focused with your looks that they completely overlook the fact you can’t even wash your dirty underwear!”

Satoru frowns at this, pointing his finger to you as if you’ve accused him of a huge crime. “Hey, I wash my underwear.”

“Yeah and last time you did, you mixed it with whites! My work uniform turned a stupid shade of blue! Now I can’t picture the colour of your boxers out of my head and it’s giving me a headache!”

“Wow, Y/N,” the smirk on his face and the sudden drop of nicknames lets you know you’ve said something wrong. Even behind his blindfold, you could tell his eyes are just sparkling with amusement. He’s enjoying this way too much. “I never thought you’d ever picture my boxers. I mean, I don’t mind showing it to you if you ask nicely—”

“Ugh, you’re so hopeless. I’m going to work.”

Gojo laughs when you jog away from him. He catches up with you in a matter of seconds, only having to take a few steps forward before he’s right beside you again. You’re unsure if you should be annoyed it’s so easy for him to always be right next to you, and how he almost always is right next to you while you prefer running away. It muddles with your heart and mind so much you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying not to be swayed by the sickeningly sweet sound of his laughter. “I can’t pick you up later, okay? I might work overtime!” (that’s a lie since Gojo prefers shopping and sightseeing)

Both of you know that’s a lie. Gojo never works overtime. He’s going to work for a few hours and so and call playing around with his students as “on-hand learning” before he goes shopping for stupid souvenirs and wild-flavoured mochis, then end his day by sightseeing and coming back home.

“Wasn’t expecting you to,” you mumble, waving goodbye to him as the office doors close. Slowly, Satoru’s grin and enthusiastic farewell fades into view until nothing but the pale, silver walls of your office greets you.

Funny how you claim to hate this man so much, yet the moment he’s out of sight, everything becomes dull and pointless.

It’s an absolutely shitty day. Your equally shitty boss blames you for something you didn’t even do, all because his incompetent secretary – who you’re sure he’s sleeping with – lost this month’s report and claimed she handed it to you last week when you’re not involved in that kind of work. Logic doesn’t come by them because your boss publicly humiliates and scolds you, calling you all kinds of names until tears are streaming down your face.

You slam the door shut the moment you get home, kicking your shoes off as you head straight to your room. You don’t bother taking your makeup off anymore as you change into a loose shirt and floral cotton shirts, padding to the kitchen after seeing Satoru is well nestled into the couch.

At least someone’s had a good day.

Seeing as the sink is empty, he probably hasn’t eaten dinner. This makes you sigh, because when will he ever learn to look after himself? He’s literally like a child.

Satoru pauses whatever he’s watching before he hovers over you, head tilted to the side as he gazes at you with curiosity. You ignore him and begin to set down some bowls and chopsticks for dinner, all the while Satoru is studying every inch of your tightly pulled face. “Bad day?” he concludes.

“Hmm.”

“Bad day it is then,” he nods to himself. “I can cook dinner, if you want.”

“And have you burn my apartment? No thanks,” you scoff, pushing him aside to retrieve the pans when you see that he’s placed them above again, even after you’ve reminded countless times to just leave it near the holders in the sink. “Ugh, why do you keep putting the pans in this shelf? You know I can’t reach this. I’ve had enough with you pulling pranks on me, and don’t think I’ve forgotten you placed my shampoo above the shower head today, you idiot,” you snarl and hop over the counter again to get the pans, trying your best to fight back the tears that are threatening to fall. “You’re really bothersome, you know that?”

“Then why don’t you kick me out?” he challenges, completely oblivious to how you’re struggling – both physically and emotionally. “You always complain about me being a nuisance here, but you’re not really doing anything to keep me out.”

“Because where else would you go?”

“Technically, I have a room back at the Institute.”

“Yeah, but because you’re so stupid and reckless that you got kicked out of your own home,” you spat out, and you watch as Satoru raises a brow at your statement. Banter is common between the both of you, but something about the intensity of your gaze lets him know you’re serious this time around. “I don’t even know how Yuuji puts up with you. That poor Megumi is right when he says you’re insufferable. You’re good for nothing!”

Satoru scoffs, “Fine, if you hate me that much, why didn’t you just say so earlier? I could easily pack my bags and go since I’m just making everything harder—” Satoru doesn’t get to finish what he’s saying when your hand over the counter that acts as support slips under you, and you fall, legs bent awkwardly while you scream, preparing yourself for the impact. The pan is long forgotten, your only thought was oh my god, so this is how I die.

But it never came, and you keep your eyes shut tight even as warm hands cup your ass. Satoru is breathing hard under you. Finally gaining the courage to crack an eye open, your breath halts when you see that he’s sitting on the floor, with you safely nestled between him.

Satoru has always had pretty eyes, but it’s rare he takes off his blindfold off even when he’s home. This is one of those rare occurrences that he seems like a normal human, dressed in a gray sweatshirt that hands low from his collarbones and magnetic blue eyes staring right back at you. His touch is gentle, almost as if he’s afraid to hurt you, and his voice that is usually loud and teasing comes out breathy and hesitant.

“Are you okay?”

Your gaze drops down to his lips. He’s close, so close, that if you just lean a little closer you could – you snap out of your daze. “Get off me.”

“Cupcake, you’re the one who’s on top of me,” his voice falls an octave lower, eyes flitting down to your clothing – or rather the lack of it – before Satoru takes a deep breath. “Did you really have to wear that?”

“I have the right to wear whatever I want in the comfort of my own home.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” he raised a brow, this time completely in control of himself as he gazes back up at you with a burning gaze. You see nothing but the way one corner of his lips tilt up, almost teasing, and he looks so much like a shit-eater that you feel heat crawl down your spine.

You push yourself off him but your bent foot behind you slips, and you fall forward with your hands clutching his strong shoulders. Satoru catches your leg behind you, drags it forward until your knee is pressed in between one of your warmth, very much still enjoying the way you wriggle away from his hold. He knows his effect on you – but you deny this wholeheartedly.

“Careful, cupcake. This isn’t a slip and slide.”

“I hate you so much,” you bare your teeth at him, slapping his chest until he finally lets go of you. Turning your back to him, you pick up the pan and begin preparing your dinner, muttering curses under your breath as you heat up the stove. “I’m kicking you out tomorrow.”

“Why not now?”

“Eat your damn dinner first.”

Dinner after that is awkward. Although Gojo is someone who can wolf down his meal in three seconds, he takes his time in eating to start conversation with you. Sometimes he asks decent questions like how your day was or he’d talk about something stupid, but he’s quiet the whole time. He even volunteers to do the dishes before retreating to his room, coating the house in silence.

It almost feels like you’re all alone over again.

You’ve gotten so used to him being an utter mess everywhere that when he’s not trying to piss you off and actually giving you the much needed peace, you begin to hate it. Memories of the rude things you’ve said to him a while ago play and in your head, and you bang your head against the wall repeatedly.

How are you supposed to apologize to Satoru now?

The answer doesn’t come until you stare at your walls, wide awake at midnight. The house is still eerily silent and you don’t stop shuffling around your bed in discomfort. Many times, you wished that Satoru would shut up and leave you alone, but now that he’s actually done that, it feels weird. Uncomfortable. It feels wrong.

With a grunt, you kick off the sheets and carefully tread to his room, knocking lightly in case he’s already sleeping. “Satoru?” you call out, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “Are you awake?”

You’ve seen Satoru angry as kids before, but what would he be like now? Would he still want to be your friend? Would he still annoy you by hiding your things somewhere you can’t reach? Or would he be the who is now out of reach? If he leaves...who’s going to walk you to work? Who’s going to complain he doesn’t want to do groceries but buys you things you don’t ask for but want anyway? Who’s going to keep teasing the living daylights out of you if not him?

All these thoughts claw at the back of your mind until your bottom lip trembles. You hate how weak you feel; how you’re never careful with your words.

You never meant it when you said all that.

Your train of thought is cut off when the door swings open, revealing an equally tired-looking Satoru. At the sight of you peering up at him with glossy eyes, he pushes the door wider and steps closer to you, his large hands cupping your face as he leans down in worry. “Cupcake,” his brows pinch together, “Did something happen? Is something wrong?”

“I just wanted to apologize for everything I said,” you blurt out, “I was just tired from work and my boss was being shitty, so I wasn’t totally myself that time and I’m really sorry I took my anger out on you. I didn’t mean it when I said you’re insufferable and that I’m kicking you out so – yeah,” you breathe out, trailing your gaze downwards to stare at your feet instead. It’s difficult to look him in the eye right now. When you finally gain courage to speak again, it barely comes out as a whimper, your hands delicately tugging at his shirt. “Please stay. I like having my best friend around here.”

Satoru doesn’t answer.

You’re about to look up at him just in case you’ve said something wrong, or worse, he refuses to forgive you, but then – “Yeah, I know you wouldn’t kick me out. You’re too much of a darling to say no to me.”

Sigh. Satoru laughs when he sees your shoulders deflate, absolutely shattered in exhaustion. Hiding your smile to now show him you’re relieved, you punch his chest that really feels like a fly had accidentally flew into him. “Way to ruin the mood, Satoru. And here I thought I could have a serious conversation with you for once.”

“Apology accepted,” he beams, tilting your chin upwards so you could look at him. Even in the darkness of his room, his eyes glow, leaving you hypnotized in its beauty. “Plus, I think I’m the one who should apologize. You’re right; I haven’t been the best roommate and I am a freeloader,” he scratches the side of his head in thought. “But I do buy you food all the time though.”

“Yeah, with my money,” you counter, but you don’t really care anymore at this point. You’re beyond elated you’re both fine now, and you shyly gesture to his big, warm bed that suddenly looks so comfortable. “Can I stay here for tonight?”

“You want Satoru’s bear hug?”

“Yes, I do.” There’s no hesitation in your words and you don’t complain anymore when he easily picks you up like a ragdoll using only one arm. He’s surprisingly gentle when he places you both down on the bed, sheets warm and soft as it blankets over you.

It would be perfect – except it’s so damn awkward.

Gojo’s long limbs are everywhere. Your face is pressed into his chest, both your legs tangled together. His arm is sprawled over the curve of your hip, his hand nearly grazing your ass that’s barely covered by the thin material of your shorts, but if he shifts, he’ll end up cupping the back of your thighs which is equally uncomfortable.

He seems to be stuck in the same position because you’re so small, and your knees are grazing his groin. Had he known you’re going to sleep with him, he would’ve worn underwear or even boxers under his sweatpants.

He’s never told you before, but he prefers to sleep in the nude. Satoru only picked up the nearest pair of pants when he heard you knock, and even then, he didn’t have the time to wear a shirt.

Your breath is hot on his skin and he’s so sensitive and aware of all your movements. Satoru clears his throat awkwardly, shifting until his arm lightly holds your back instead, but then he pulls away as if he’s touched fire when he’d unknowingly fiddled with your bra clasp instead. It’s so painfully awkward that Satoru chuckles above you, while you scrunch your nose, silently praying to the heavens above that he won’t hear how loud your heart is beating right now.

“Why is it so hot in your own room?”

“Maybe it’s time you get me an AC.”

“You wish, Satoru,” you mumble beneath him, making yourself as comfortable as you can with your cheek resting on his bicep. It’s not the softest pillow considering he’s pretty muscular, but he’s warm and smells like mint spice nevertheless. “You’re really not going to put on a shirt?”

Satoru sighs, a long and loud one that is extended for dramatic purposes. Suddenly, he pushes your knee off of him, grimacing and thanking the darkness that you can’t see how much he’s struggling right now. “Cupcake, this is hard for me as much as it is for you. You’re barely wearing anything.”

“Since when have you cared about what I wear?”

“I’m a man, Y/N,” is what he reasons with, “You’re lucky it’s me. Had it been someone else and you crawled into their bed wearing these—” Satoru pinches the waistband of your shorts, and you squeal in protest, only making him laugh afterwards before he lets it go and the material snaps back at your skin, “—poor excuse of what you call shorts, I can’t guarantee they’ll give you a peaceful night.”

You know exactly what he’s trying to hint at. Still, it’s hard to believe that Satoru is capable of seeing you that way.

It’s not that you feel you’re unattractive. You know you’re pretty and have been out on many dates, but it’s easy to feel that you’re not sexy when you have the height of a thirteen year old and you’ve been constantly chastised about it.

Satoru’s not-compliment compliment has your heart skipping a beat, and you scoff in response. “Shut up,” you warn lamely, “I want to sleep.”

“Then let’s sleep, cupcake.” You don’t know if it’s because you’re utterly exhausted that you doze off seconds later or if Satoru’s words just held power in them, but soon all thoughts of anything unwanted drifts out the window, his arms keeping you close, completely safe and sound until the worst nightmares couldn’t even come close.

Hot. It’s extremely hot.

You crack an eye open to try and find the source of this uncomfortable heat, but you freeze when you realize you can’t feel your muscles from the chin down. Panic rises in your throat once you see the current predicament you’re in, and a scream rips through your throat so loud that the birds outside scurry away in a flurry.

You’re wrapped in Satoru’s blanket and comforter, rendering you unable to move because of how he’d treated you like a burrito wrap. Even your toes are captured inside this hell, and only your head is able to wriggle side to side.

“Satoru!”

The culprit comes out of the shower a split second later, his hair dripping wet and only a towel hanging low from his lips. If you weren’t so hell-bent on killing him, you would’ve been speechless at the way water drips from his hair down to the curves of his abs, going down down down into a place only your darkest imaginations could take you.

Satoru bends over in laughter as he whips out his phone, jumping from angle to angle and side to side to take photos of you. “Fuck,” he howls, slapping his thigh while you snarl in an attempt to break free. “You’re a lot cuter than I thought you’d be.”

“Satoru! Get me out of here!”

“No, this is way too gold. I’m sending these to my students.”

“Satoru, I’m serious!” The devil incarnate himself falls deaf to your please.

Maybe it’s because the violent intent has coursed through your veins so strongly that a surge of energy and strength overcomes you, and soon, you’ve rolled out of the blanket. The fresh air nipping at your heated skin is most welcomed, but right now, you had a mission to fulfil: obliterate Gojo Satoru.

The platinum haired man is still laughing to himself, too distracted in scrolling through the best photos to send to his students that he doesn’t notice you escaping and zooming straight right at him.

The momentum is enough to catch him off guard until you end up on top of him, short arms clawing your way through to snatch his phone. Satoru yelps when his phone lands out into the living room and your hands come down to choke him. You don’t have plans to kill him, but you want to hurt him enough to remind him you’re not someone he can fuck with.

You’ve just about had enough of this man and you’re so sick of him!

Satoru yells out a “Hey!” when you let out a battle cry, using your legs to kick him back when he tries to sit up. Your plan backfires when your hands slip down his wet skin and you fall face forwards, hands barely touching the ground for support when your lips come crashing down on his.

He stills underneath you. It takes a moment for you to realize that holy shit, you’re kissing him and his lips are so soft that has you scrambling back, but Satoru doesn’t let you.

His large hand comes up at the back of your neck to pull you forward. The sudden movement makes you gasp, and Satoru slips his tongue inside when you do so. You no longer remember how you got here or try to make sense of what’s going on, because he feels so good, tastes so good that you bury your nails in his hair while he ravishes your mouth.

You’re so tiny that his hand cups your entire buttcheek almost possessively, a low growl emanating deep in his throat when your tongue eagerly intertwines with his. Satoru tastes like heaven and everything about the kiss is sloppy – tongue clashing with one another and teeth nibbling at the other’s lips. It’s clear both of you can’t get enough of one another as you moan in his mouth, shamelessly grinding on his crotch, suddenly thankful that you’re always wearing thin clothes when you feel him harden underneath you.

“Fuck, baby,” he pulls away to breathe, a string of saliva connecting the both of you. “Yeah, just like that,” There’s something empowering about the way he pants at your ministrations, especially when you roll your hips faster across his erection. “Keep going, baby, you’re doing – fuck – so well.”

You smirk at his praises, latching your teeth on his neck to suck marks on them. Satoru groans at the same time you muffle your moans through his skin, his hands sliding under your shirt to tug the cups of your bra down. You nearly lose it when he pinches your nipple, bolts of electricity running down your spine at the contact. A moan breaks through your lips just as you come right there and then, the wetness of your sudden orgasm barely hidden in your flimsy underwear.

“Feel good?” he teases and drags your shirt down to the other side, but the post-nut clarity hits. And when it does, it hits hard.

Fuck. You just came from Satoru’s simple touches, and he’s so unsatisfied, still painfully hard underneath you but nothing but panic and regret washes over you like a strong tidal wave. Suddenly, you grow lightheaded as you push yourself off him, fixing your bra while ignoring the confused and hurt look on his face.

“I gotta go to work,” you run out the room, feeling your body tremble as Satoru runs after you. “Make yourself breakfast. I’ll eat on the way out.”

“Y/N, wait!”

You know you’ve just ruined everything – that nothing will ever be the same after that – but you’re scared, utterly and remorsefully so, that you slam the door right in his face as if you don’t have any idea how much you broke him.

You’ll never forget the way Satoru’s face fell when you left.

Just as you thought, nothing is the same after that. The tension is so thick around the apartment you make an effort and go out of your way just to avoid him and the apartment completely.

It’s cowardly – you know this much – but do you ever try to fix the friendship you cherish but shattered completely? You don’t. You don’t because it only crashes down onto you now that maybe your feelings for him aren’t just platonic, after all. It’s even worse because you touch yourself at the thought of him filling you up when he’s asleep, all because you want him so bad and the mere presence of him has your brain malfunctioning.

It isn’t entirely sexual either. Yes, you want to fuck him badly, but it scares you down to the core even more because you want so much more than that.

Now you understand why you always say he’s a bother but never asked him to leave. It’s because you like him, actually romantically interested in him. It makes sense now why you always felt so annoyed whenever your co-workers asked for his number, or how you’re immediately pissed off when Satoru talks about this hot woman he saw at work. You always chalk it up to an excuse you just hate how he can’t keep in his pants, but it isn’t true at all.

It’s because you actually like him – and you’re at a loss on what to do or how to deal with it.

The next few days feels like hell. Satoru isn’t stupid; he knows you’re avoiding him. He stops teasing you eventually and even buys takeout all the time when you lock yourself up in your room right after work, refusing to cook dinner or even eat all so you’d be spared the torture of looking at him.

He’d knock at your door and ask you to eat, but other than that, he’s respected your distance.

You feel like the most terrible person on earth. You don’t miss the way dark circles line under his eyes or how he’s lost his spark, barely even speaking to you when you’ve come or about to leave for work.

You’re alone the whole ride, as well, and it only dawns on you how lonely you are when Satoru isn’t always annoying you all the time.

But it doesn’t make sense. Why is he so bothered by it? Didn’t he regret it? It’s painfully clear you’re not Satoru’s type. You’ve seen the women he dated before, and you’re not close to them so why does he seem like he’s struggling with this as well? Or maybe...he’s just sad that his friend is avoiding him.

Yeah, that has to be it.

Satoru is a man. He was probably turned on at that time, but after giving some thought about it, he probably wants to keep his distance too. He’d be insane if he ever actually wants to date you – his best friend out of all people – because he’s Gojo Satoru and he could literally have everyone else.

You don’t care that you’re a coward.

You don’t care that Satoru is sad to see you this way.

You don’t care because you know he’ll reject you, you know he’ll be weirded if you admit your feelings for him. To him, you’re like his little sister. There’s just no way you two would work out. For now, you have to get comfortable with the uncomfortable. You just need some time to get over your feelings for him, and when you’re confident you won’t fall for him again, you’ll mend your friendship.

You just need time.

“So, Y/N, you still don’t want to give us your friend’s number?”

“Yeah, Y/N, you should share it,” your co-worker encourages by jabbing her shoulder to yours. It’s a lazy Friday night and the staff went out for dinner. You don’t usually come to these hangouts since dinner with Satoru is always much more fun, but he’s the last person you want to think about now, so you happily join them. Now, though, you’re starting to regret ever coming here. “If he’s really single like you said, then it shouldn’t be a big deal to ask for it.”

“Well, since you want it so badly, why don’t you ask him directly for it instead?” you snap, feeling anger begin to trickle. All you wanted was just one day where you don’t have to think of him, but of course they had to bring him up. It’s also annoying how they can never seem to get the message across that you don’t want them dating him. “Why do I have to be the messenger?”

“We haven’t seen him much. Doesn’t he always walk you to work?”

“He’s been busy with his job, that’s all.” And also because I’m avoiding him – so now he’s avoiding me too.

“He’s a teacher, right?”

“Oh, come on, guys, don’t be so dense,” your senpai chugged her drink rather loudly, catching the attention of your nosy co-workers who wouldn’t stop pestering you for his number. “Look at how uncomfortable she looks. It’s obvious she doesn’t want you guys to be involved with her friend for a reason. Think of how weird it is for her too if ever her co-worker and best friend dated. She’s going to feel like a third wheel.”

“I’m not—”

“That makes sense,” your co-worker nodded beside you, “Are you sure you just don’t like him though?”

“Ew, why would I?” the food began to taste bitter through your lies, “He may be tall and attractive, but as his roommate, I’ve seen his ugly side. Satoru is a complete slob and can’t even cook to save his life.”

“I don’t mind cooking for him all the time if I were to be his little housewife.”

“That’s never gonna happen,” your words came out harsher than it was, and you laugh it off with a wave of your hand when your co-workers’ eyes widened. “I’ve been living with him for six months and he’s never brought anyone home or told me he’s going on a date. I told you already, he’s a no strings attached kind of guy. He’s nothing but a one night stand.”

“You have to admit he’s still sexy though.”

Right. You hide your groan through another shot because there’s no way of convincing them otherwise. As much as you hate to admit, you’re actually jealous on how freely they could talk about him like that, but then again, it’s not like you and Satoru were dating – or would ever date, for that matter.

They start to leave one by one when it starts to get late, leaving only you who’s still desperate to avoid Satoru. Nothing prepares you for when the sky darkens and a storm comes pouring just as you’ve left the closing shop, the rain drenching and soaking your clothes through and through. Running under the nearest tree for shelter, you shiver. It’s cold – way too cold – and curse yourself for not bringing a darned umbrella.

The nearest bus stop is like what, fifteen to twenty minutes away? Your teeth are chattering and your legs are shaking, and you fumble through your phone as you dial a number you know by heart before you even realize what you’re doing. “S-Satoru?”

“Y/N,” the surprise is unmasked in his voice, something shuffling in the background before it falls silent. “Is everything okay?”

“Uhm, are you busy right now? It’s fine if you are, I’m just—”

“I’m training with Yuuji, but what is it?”

“Listen, I,” you inhale sharply when coldness bursts through your body, making you shiver and press yourself closer to tree to get away from the rain. Above you, thunder crackles before the rain grows heavier and angrier. “I forgot to bring an umbrella and I’m absolutely soaked right now. The nearest bus stop is fifteen minutes away and all the buildings here look so shady—”

“I’ll be on my way. Text me where you are,” You nod and thank him, too cold and numb to realize you’ve just broken days of silence. You lose track of time under there, hugging yourself until your lips turn blue. It doesn’t take long before Satoru shows up minutes later, his hair equally drenched and sticking flat to his eyes free from his blindfold while he pants, hand on his knees. “Thank goodness you’re safe. I rushed here so fast I forgot to bring an umbrella.”

After seeing Satoru drenched like that, something snaps within you. He doesn’t seem bothered by the fact the rain is unforgiving as it slaps the pavement, and your heart breaks when you see that he’s more concerned for you – even after you’ve given him the silent treatment. “You idiot! Now you’re soaking wet too, you’re going to get sick!”

“Highly unlikely,” he shrugs. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“But what about—” Satoru suddenly carries you before draping his coat over your head, running until he found a cab to hail. He immediately asks the driver to turn up the heater while you tremble on top of him, not caring anymore that you’re sticking so close to him for heat.

Satoru doesn’t let you go all the way inside the apartment. He sets you down on the couch where you take off your wet clothes in haste, too cold with teeth chattering that you silently take the hoodie and boxers Satoru offers you, making sure to keep his gaze averted the whole time. Once fully dressed, you snuggle back into the sofa’s comfort, stiffening when the couch dips beside you.

Not a moment later, Satoru towel-dries your hair, leaving your mouth and throat dry with guilt. Even after you’ve unnecessarily been a bitch to him, he’s still so kind with you.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Satoru...” you twiddle with your thumbs just as he starts to ruffle the towel in your hair, making sure to squeeze water out of the strands as he dries it. “About what happened the other day—”

“It didn’t happen if you don’t want it to,” his voice is cold’ monotonous and so emotionless you’re rendered speechless. “You can forget about it.”

“I...”

“You regret it, right?” he’s done with drying your hair, and he stands up to place the wet towels in the sink as you watch him stride all the way there. He’s changed his clothes too; looking comfortable in a plain white shirt and some grey sweatpants, looking every bit the domestic boyfriend you’ve always wanted but can never have. “It’s fine. We can forget about it and go back to normal,” to emphasize his point, Satoru winks at you, though it does nothing but make your heart sink.

“What if I don’t want to forget it?” your voice is small; hesitant and wavering with fear. “What if...the only reason I pulled away is because I wanted more of you?”

Satoru’s back freezes as he sets the towel aside. At this point, your heart is pulsing on your tongue, and you dig your nails onto your thighs when Satoru sits down next to you, right next to you. He’s silent the whole time; eyes calculatedly piercing through yours. Your breath hitches when his hands that are burning hot against your cold skin cups your jaw before his thumb runs across your lips, his eyes turning dark at your reactions.

“And what if I said I felt the same way?”

“I,” you gasp, closing your eyes because it all feels so surreal. “I like you, Satoru. I like you a lot and I—” he doesn’t let you finish. Soon, you find yourself in his lap with his hands cupping your cheeks while he smashes his lips onto yours.

Satoru is absolutely feral. He’s breathing hard and almost angry, even, with the way his teeth are biting down to nibble on your lips. You moan when he drags you closer, your clothed centre rubbing on his thigh with delicious friction. “You have no idea,” he rasps down on your lips, “how much I’ve fucking liked you ever since we were kids,” Satoru pushes his hoodie aside, revealing your sweet neck to him, and he doesn’t waste his time in sucking and abusing the poor flesh so he can mark you as his. “I’ve always wanted you, Y/N, it’s always you, always you.”

You fist his hoodie when Satoru sinks his teeth down into the juncture of your neck, his hands curious and exploring every inch of your body. He knows you’re naked underneath his clothes, but it’s a different thing when he actually feels your breasts right on his palm. Satoru tweaks the hardened bud in his fingers, growling when you moan at the contact and use his thigh to get off.

“You—” you gasp as you expose your neck to him, wild and needy as you keep rubbing your heat over his thigh. “—talk way too fucking much,” you scold, finally pushing his lips away from your neck. Satoru chuckles at your eagerness but you silence him by flinging his boxers off of your body and somewhere far away, exposing your heat slick with arousal right in front of him. His pupils blow in excitement, hands coming up to grab at your hips, but his attention is taken away when you nibble on his ear to whisper, “Shut up and fuck me.”

The simple command is enough to make his patience snap. In a flash, you’re pinned underneath him, whining and moaning when his finger meets no resistance as he slips it inside. “You’re that needy, huh?” he laughs even louder when you lose it, humping yourself on his finger because it’s not enough.

“Satoru,” you beg, clutching his bicep when he adds another finger in. “More.”

His fingers are so long, hitting places that your small ones could never reach. He begins to scissor his way in, his fingers deliciously rubbing against your velvety walls while pumping them inside and out in a speed that causes you to squelch around him.

It’s absolutely lewd how you’re eagerly spread out before him, but your head is clouded with lust, no longer hindered by shyness out of your need to cum. Your chest is rising heavily, his thumb now rubbing against your clit as he coaxes you to cum. “Tell me what you want, baby,” he kisses your cheeks, eyelids, nose, anywhere but your lips, his voice so gentle and innocent as if he’s not knuckle deep inside you. “Tell me how you want me.”

“Inside,” you whine, gasping when he brushes against a really sensitive spot that has you clamping down on him. “‘Toru, fuck, just fuck me.”

“Beg for it,” he smiles against your skin, relentless and harsh as he keeps pushing inside you. You feel him everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Another finger adds in until you’re dripping enough on his palm and staining the couch, but neither of you care. “I said, beg for it.”

“No,” you hold back, nearly crying out when he pulls your fingers out of you. That sudden emptiness is back again, but you don’t want to beg. You’ve never begged another man before, and this won’t be the first time you’ll be doing so either. You refuse to let him have the upper hand despite the crystal clear fact you’re already soaking wet for him, but because you’re stubborn, you only fumble with his sweatpants to spring his cock free.

He’s already dripping with pre-cum from the slit, his cock hard and angry. Despite his arousal, Satoru stops you from going further, using only one hand to trap both your wrists. “Beg for it,” he demands again, his other fist already pumping down on his shaft.

You nearly cry at the sight. Both of you are aware that Satoru is capable of pleasuring himself, but it’s not that easy for you. Your small, dainty fingers will never be parallel to the pleasure his long cock could give you. All you had to do was beg for it. He’s right there, within reach, if only you’d just –

Impatient for your answer, Satoru takes you by the hips and discards your hoodie in the process, sinking you down his cock, inch by delicious inch. You don’t hold back from the sensual and high-pitched moan that leaves your lips. He’s long, and the tip of his cock just about brushes your cervix when he bottoms out. He feels so good, so warm and huge and filling you up right where you want him to be. Your head falls down on his shoulder as you begin to roll your hips, but Satoru has had enough.

“Fuck, look at you,” he presses on the bulge of his cock visible through your abdomen. “You’re so fucking small – how do you take me so well? I could ruin you. Do you want that? Do you want me to ruin you?”

“Yes, yes, fuck.”

“You think you can just leave me hanging like that, huh?” he slaps your ass, eliciting another moan from you and making you clench around his cock. Satoru falters for a moment. Before you can react, he stands up, your legs wrapped around his waist with nothing but his tip hitting inside you. “You’ve been so fucking mean – leaving me wanting you like that and ignoring me for days. Do you think you deserve this, huh?” Satoru kicks his door open at the same time he loosens his hold around your ass, making you slide down his length the next second.

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out just as Satoru begins to bounce you, your breasts following the motion of him fucking deep into you. “Fuck, Toru, that’s too—”

He’s so eager to fuck you, to make a mess out of you and have you losing your mind over his cock that he doesn’t even wait until you’re both on the bed. You no longer register when your back hits the pillow, or how your arms are frozen when he pins it above your head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he praises as he watches you clench around him. You’re so small and his eyes zero in on the way your abdomen bulges then flattens again every time he pounds into you, rolling his hips in a way that has you screaming and thighs quaking. “Beautiful, beautiful, perfect,” the moment his hands grip at your hips to pin you down, you know he’s not going to stop. And you don’t want him to.

Satoru latches his lips around your right breast, gently grazing his teeth over it while his other hand pinches and rolls the pebbled nipple between his fingers. He feels so good – and you’re crying already by the time you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer.

The room is filled with the smell of sex, the sound of skin slapping against skin combined with his breathy grunts and your moans like heaven on his ears. Satoru wants you to feel how much he loves you – how much he adores you – and the pace he sets is torturous. He snaps his hips against yours and presses down on the bulge of his cock through your belly, chuckling when you tighten more around him.

Your head lols to the side, tears falling down your pretty face because of how rough he’s being. But you don’t complain, not when he’s filling you in so deep and he’s kissing you everywhere, touching you everywhere, making you feel nothing else and nobody else but him.

“You’re amazing,” he rasps, watching the way your tight cunt sucks him in greedily as if you don’t want him to go anywhere else. “You take me in so well – you really want me to destroy you, huh?”

“Satoru, please,” you finally plead, “I-I’m cumming, I want you, I need you, oh,” you squeal when he finally lets your arms free. You look so precious, so innocent, and he doesn’t let up his pace. He plants his feet into the ground and his strokes begin to grow sloppy, your tight walls encouraging him to go faster, go deeper.

If possible, Satoru is only even more fuelled with the way you look so precious and innocent in that moment. His touch is gentle in comparison to the way he’s mercilessly plowing into you, using his thumb to wipe away the tears streaming down your cheeks. He knows he’s too big for you, that much is obvious from how much you’re already overstimulated just by his size, but your nails sink down on the flesh of his ass as a silent plead for more.

“Fuuuuck, I’m so close!”

“Yeah?” He fondled your clit, loving the sight of your small body creaming down on his cock. “Come for me, sweet girl. I want to feel you coming on my cock. Come on, tell me you’re mine. You’re made me for aren’t you?”

“Yes, Satoru, fuck,” you squeal, throwing your head back for a second when he keeps hitting your g-spot that has you seeing stars. Your toes curl and your hands fist the sheets behind you as he keeps impaling you with his cock right then and there.

You looked perfect; so perfect to him that he’s basically using you for his own pleasure at this moment. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, back arching and nipples brushing against his chest.

In that moment, you grow needy to have him even closer, tilting up to blindly search for his lips. Satoru complies; leaning down and leaving open mouthed breathy kisses that’s a mix of you moaning and crying around him, while he struggles to do so when he’s cursing at the feeling of you coating his cock with your juices. Satoru looks down at your tiny frame trapped in his arms, his voice husky as he groans once he saw both of your arousal absolutely leaking out of your wet cunt.

He’s so close but you’re already over the edge, scratching at his back at the overstimulation. You’re still so sensitive from when you came and Satoru doesn’t slow one down one bit. He loses his rhythm as his thrusts go sloppy, and Satoru buries his face in your neck as his cock twitches inside you until he bursts with his cum leaking out of your hole.

Satoru’s arms give out beneath you, his chest colliding with yours but not enough that he’s crushing you with his weight. You’re both breathing hard and panting, his dick softening inside you.

He pulls back a moment later to slide out his sensitive cock, wincing while he watches pools of cum gather in your pussy before it drips out. It isn’t until he’s witnessing the mess he’s made he realizes how you’ve been so good for him; taking him all the way in despite your quivering frame. It dawns on him now just how tiny you are when he pulls you close to him; you’re practically hanging off his chest with how small your body is.

He wonders how you’re able to fit all of him, but he’s grateful nevertheless. Satoru shows his appreciation by peppering kisses all over your face, his hand snaking down to caress your inner thighs.

“Hmm,” you moan into the kiss, jolting when his knuckles brush against your sensitive clit. “Satoru, no,” you whine while pushing his hand away, and he shushes you with another kiss. “’M too sensitive, please...”

“It’s fine, cupcake, it’s fine,” his nickname for you is back again, and you lean closer to him just as he begins to massage your sore legs. “You did so well for me, cupcake, you know that? You’re such a good girl for me,” too fucked out to have a comprehensive answer, you only nod in response, spreading your legs open again and ignoring the warm stickiness between your thighs as Satoru kneads your abused flesh. You feel him kiss your temple before he leaves to get a towel and cleans you up. Meanwhile, you’re so tired you’re about to doze out in his bed.

“Hey,” he soothes, bundling you up in his arms until you’re tucked in the safety of his body. So small, he coos inside his head, watching as you fold yourself even smaller while your eyes flutter. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you sigh into his shoulder, “I feel good. Thank you.”

Satoru doesn’t really know what you’re thanking him for. He feels like he’s the one who’s mostly indebted to you after everything you’ve done for him. You’ve already fallen asleep before he gets the chance to tell you how he feels, so Satoru only covers you both under his blanket, making sure there’s no more space between you out of fear you’ll distance yourself from him again.

But he doesn’t have to worry about that because you’re right next to him, and you’re never out of reach.

[indefiniteimagines]

Hi! Can you do an Elliot imagine where he and the reader have a connection while high, but have to test it sober? Love your work!

A/N: Thank you so much! I hope it’s okay that I tweaked it a little bit. I figure Elly would never give up weed, so our pairing will be California Sober. Will they pass the test?

WARNINGS: slight drug use and language. I think that’s it

“Hooo my god. Ohh, how do we keep doing that?” I asked out of breath.

“That’s what happens when two flames ignite, baby,” he kissed me on the forehead and got off the bed. I rolled over onto my stomach and just started at the lava lamp on the other side of the room. The state I’m in is like no other.

Over the next few days all we did was snort, smoke and fuck. I’m not ashamed to say that we were on a slight bender. Rue would come join us, but Jules was starting to catch on so she had to distance herself.

He was sitting on the floor with a joint between his swollen lips before getting up to go to the restroom. I quickly catch him while he’s walking out,

“Are you gonna want more?”

“Yeah. Set it up. I’ll be right back.”

I went to the table and grabbed the baggie before inspecting its contents.

Oh fuck.

Elliot came out of the bathroom and over to me before looking at the lines. He gave me a “what the fuck?” look when I had to explain,

“This is it.”

“That’s it? Like, it it?”

“Like it it.”

“Fuck. That’s barely half a bump for both of us.”

We both stared at the pathetic dosage in front of us. I sighed, “well we have the weed to tie us over,” I said before doing my half. He bent over to his before coming back up. He scrunched his face while the powder burned his nose,

“That’s almost gone too.” I gave him a panicked look.

“My guy is on vacation for a couple weeks. I figure we bag some from Rue or that you had some,” he said matter of factly.

“I’m dry and after Rue’s suitcase drama she doesn’t keep ‘em in the house. What do we do?”

“We don’t panic. I can get bud anytime. We’ll be good.” He gave me a kiss on the forehead again and it made me trust him.

After our slight 48 hour withdrawal episodes, we were finally able to see each other. I went over after school and it immediately felt different. His bed was the same. He was still playing Leon Bridges and the smell of weed still took over but something was…off.

I listened to him play guitar and we smoked weed, but I was bored out of my mind and this was awkward as fuck. Usually we’re goofing around and fucking, but now we’re like science partners who never talk but were forced to work together.

“What do you wanna do?”

“I could eat your pussy.” Say fucking less.

Actually, say more because what just happened?

I half faked an orgasm and he dipped out before making sure I was done due to “finger cramping”. I only stayed for another 30 minutes after that.

*at school*

“What do I do, dude? I don’t know what’s happening.”

“I mean, you both just went through some mild withdrawals so just wait until your fuckin libido to come back. I don’t know.” Maybe she was right, but in the coming days nothing had changed.

One night I walk over to a spot in the corner of his room and place my head against the wall and close my eyes. He came in and didn’t even notice I was on the floor when he face planted onto his bed. We both stayed silent for a majority of the album we were listening to before I tell him I’m heading out.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll text you later, baby.” He didn’t bother to get up and I didn’t really mind.

“Yeah. Or don’t, it’s whatever.”

“Wait what?” He sits up on his bed and I give him a look.

“I’m just saying you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Did I do something?” I sigh,

“You promised we’d be fine.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you can’t tell me this isn’t awkward. Like something isn’t off with us. We can’t even make each other horny anymore. We barely kiss or talk for that matter. Is it me or did the withdrawal make you realize something? Or do we only connect when high?”

I could tell he was trying his best to process everything I just unloaded onto him. He took a drag from the newly lit blunt before taking his lip between his teeth.

It was his turn to sigh now and I could tell he knows I’m right.

“I don’t think it’s just the drugs.”

My heart sank.

“Then what else is it?”

He took a second to ponder before looking at me like I should already know the answer. My breath hitched in my throat when I caught on. I nodded my head and turned to walk out, but stopped myself,

“Did you ever love me? Or was I just a companion for you to get high with and fuck when the other two weren’t available?”

“I could be asking you the same thing. I’m starting to feel like we knew what this was. We’re better when we’re fucked up because we’re too fucked up for each other.”

“Yeah. Goodbye, Elliot.”

With that, I just nodded my head and made my final exit.

[crowtrobotx]

Let your followers love you and write us a ficlet of Karl trying to get Lottie to eat her least favorite food.

This is my first time posting one of these, pls be gentle lol. But thank you very much for sending this, and thank you for your patience! I am old and always tired. And sorry for any bad/weird formatting, I am having a Boomer Moment™️ on mobile and can’t figure out how to do anything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beets Me

Characters: Karl Heisenberg, Original character (daughter)

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None, unless you count swearing and an old man negotiating with a child.

Word count: 1068

Humiliating.

That was the only word that came to mind - Karl Heisenberg was a Lord, a nigh indestructible and powerful demigod who instilled awe and terror in all who stumbled across his path. He could make life from death, had built machines the likes of which no one in world had seen or would ever see again, and for God’s sake he could wield a fucking lightning hammer. He had worked incredibly hard for all of these things, for his reputation, which made the fact that he was currently being bested by his own personal tiny tyrant all the more miserable.

“Lottie,” he called not for the first time, his tone even but with a twinge of desperation. His latest soldat was due to wake up soon, and he preferred to be present lest the stupid things felt the need to have a destructive existential crisis upon realizing they were decidedly not dead anymore. He searched about what passed as the living room, grimacing internally at all of the not-so-childproof items carelessly strewn about.

Is that a rusty bone saw— nope, better not think about it.

He’d already checked all of the kid’s usual hiding places, and it would have been a lie to say there wasn’t a twinge of panic beginning to worm its way up his throat. Most of the horrors that lurked outside and below couldn’t reach her here, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t leave of her own accord - and there was one person he knew he couldn’t stop, not until his army was finished. Not that he trusted a damn thing dearest Mother said, but she’d sworn she wouldn’t take Lottie - she wasn’t a suitable vessel, she’d made that abundantly and infuriatingly clear.

At last, two little grey-blue eyes appeared from beneath a milk crate stashed under one of the many workbenches that littered the factory. Karl quirked a brow, amusement and relief playing on his lips. After a small squeak of alarm, Lottie disappeared just as quickly back into the shadows - as if it would change the fact that she’d been undeniably caught.

Karl snorted, his knees cracking in protest when he begrudgingly knelt to her level. It was fortunate she was cute - the frankly embarrassing amount of shenanigans she got away with made him feel ridiculous. He barely remembered his own father but he knew that he sure as shit wouldn’t have taken this lying down from his own son. Lucky Lottie, he wasn’t his father. He tossed his hat aside and ran a hand through his wiry hair, waiting for her to reappear.

And reappear she did, squishing her nose up against the plastic to get a better view. Stifling a laugh when he saw the rebellious and familiar expression his daughter boasted, Karl knocked politely on the top of the crate. “Anybody home?”

“No.”

“No? Then who’s talkin’?”

A pause. “…Not Lottie, that’s for sure”

Heisenberg sighed, removing his trademark glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Well, Not Lottie, you still have to eat dinner, I’m afraid. I’m running behind already and don’t have time for hide and seek right now.”

The little demon glared out in defiance from the baby jail of her own design. “I hate beets.”

Ah. So she’d seen the cans he’d set on the counter earlier in the day. Observant.

“Yeah, not my favorite either,” he conceded, “but Duke ain’t due back here until tomorrow and it’s dark out. I don’t want to go stomping out there to shake down the village grocer just because you’re being picky.”

Not that he hadn’t been conned into doing that before. Not that there hadn’t been at least three separate occasions where he’d found himself crossing the ancient bridge that separated the Heisenberg Factory from the rest of town and audibly yelled “What the fuck am I doing” to no one in particular. Not that he hadn’t always found it completely worthwhile to see Lottie’s little face light up when he returned with a bag of goodies for the two of them.

“It’s not just beets, y’know,” he attempted to reason with her. “I’m not a monster. There’s some, uh…. Meat of some sort, too.”

Lottie groaned. “But what if the beets touch everything else! They’ll ruin it! Can’t you call the supersized bi—”

“No, absolutely not,” the Lord had never answered a question so quickly in his life. “Although it would be pretty funny to piss her off with a takeout order from those ridiculous kitchens of hers, I think I got on her last mega nerve at the meeting yesterday and she might actually try to kill me this time. Then what’d you do? You might have to live with her. And wear dresses.”

Lottie gasped in horror.

They sat in silence for a moment after, clearly at a standstill. The ambient noises of the factory were much fainter here, amounting to little more than distant humming. Karl could practically hear the gears in that little head of hers overheating while she tried to think of a way out of Beet Hell.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said at last, “you suffer through this hideous torment tonight, and I’ll make it up to you with extra good stuff from the Duke tomorrow. Sound good?” He threw in a good natured wink for added effect.

Lottie drummed her fingers on the floor, her nose scrunching while she considered the offer. “Five donuts this time,” she declared firmly.

“Three,” Karl countered.

“Four.”

“Three and I’ll throw in that new bright ass pink screwdriver you were eyeing last time.”

“Hmm,” Lottie was making an obvious show of trying to sustain the suspense. “I dunno… Maybe… I guess we have a deal.”

“Perfect,” Karl grinned. “I’d shake your hand but you’d have to come out for that.”

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’,” she grumbled, the sounds of shuffling now audible from beneath the crate.

Karl rose with a grunt, satisfied with the negotiations. He returned his shades to their proper place and glanced at the grimy old clock that hung sadly in his makeshift living quarters, relieved to see that he still had plenty of time to feed the little gremlin and get back down into the bowels of the factory.

He hadn’t made it but two steps toward the kitchen when he heard an uncertain voice call out from behind.

“Papa?”

“Yes, princess?”

“I think I’m stuck.”

[iluvcvnnie]

warnings: kissing, modern au, nsfw, suggestive, smut, degredation

dni if under 16

pairing: L lawliet x fem!reader

a/n: i need to get better at placing specific warnings

just thinking about...

dilf!L finally coming home from a long day in the office due to a case he was working on all by himself.

dilf!L has jet black hair with a few gray streaks growing in due to stress and age.

dilf!L is fairly quiet once he enters the house not wanting to disturb you or the kids. he just wants to drink a warm cup of coffee and eat anything he can find in the fridge. it’s either you or watari who brings him his lunch. but he gave watari the day off and you were too busy tending to the kids.

dilf!L notices you cooking in the kitchen once he sets his laptop and brief case down on the table. you were wearing a light blue laced night gown that barely reached your knees. he watched as your ass swayed back and forth to music you had playing on the radio. the radio was a wedding gift given to the both of you by a dear friend.

dilf!L shook his head and grinned while he walked towards the kitchen. “ahem” you quickly turned around raising the spatula up in your hand to use as a weapon. “woah woah woah baby it’s me.” as soon as you realized it was L you deadpanned him for scaring you like that. “you know i get scared easily why would you do that?” you turn around pretending to ignore him while continue making dinner.

dilf!L comes out from behind you to wrap his arms around your waist while he places his face in the crook of your neck. “i’m sorryyy i was jus playing.” his voice was muffled as he spoke into your neck but you understood him. “yeah just don’t pull that shit again. “mhmm” he began placing soft delicate kisses on your neck while you turned the burners down on the oven. “L- in the ahh kitchen? L ignored your question and began moving his hands down to your plush ass and thighs. “fuck- baby you look so good right now.” your head fell backwards onto L’s neck with your mouth agape. his hands began to grope your ass while removing the thing strap of your gown. before he could go any further the timer for the food made a loud ringing noise. your kids came rushing out. you both quickly got off of each other and fixed each other up.

dilf!L gets trampled over by your five and three year old kids once they notice him standing in the kitchen. they hug him so tight he could looked like he could barely breath. he had a straight face the hold time making you chuckle. he loves his you and his kids more than anything in the world. at first it took him some time to adjust with the children. he thought his oldest one hated him when he was born. L rarely smiled and barely cracked jokes, but you being his helper taught him how to be great with kids. he was a natural at being a father. matsuda and watari were surprised when they found out that L was gonna be a dad but they were so happy for the both of you. they knew that you were the the one for him and that your kids made his kids made his life even better.

dilf!L who is forever grateful for you leading him out of that dark tunnel his job can create for him. you have always stuck by him bringing him comfort, making him happy, and you too always being there for each other.

dilf!L thanks you for the food you prepared for him then going to the dining room to eat. you send your kids back to bed since they ate dinner hours ago and it was way past their bed time. you watch L gobble down all his food which makes you grin big. you watch as he licks his lips seductively making them plump. “oh i just wish i  a had a little bit of dessert to go with this nice cup of coffee. you being as clueless as ever get up to go fetch him some cake you had made earlier.

dilf!L uses his strong hands to stop you by lightly grabbing your arm. he comes up close to your ear and whispers, “baby i was referring to you.” “oh.”

dilf!L leads you to the bedroom and then shuts the door. he crashes his lips into yours while fondling your ass. you moan into his mouth making his cock even harder than before. his tongue explores your mouth after you give him access to enter. you lightly tug on his bottom lip while he lifts you up and sets you down onto the bed. he breaks apart the kiss causing you to wimper. he slowly lifts your shirt up revealing your breasts. he latches his mouth onto your nipple while squeezing the other one. “oh fuck.” he loves hearing your pretty little moans. you can feel his hard clothed length on your entrance. “ryuzaki ahh jus fuck me already!” “oh...ryuzaki hmm.” L moves his hand up and down his cock to prepare himself for when he enters inside you. he then places his finger on your cloth area to see how wet you are. “fuck you’re always so soaked for me.” he hasn’t even fucked you yet and your already dumb not able to form a response. then he inserts his cock inside of you rocking back and forth. he watches as your pretty tits bounce up and down. “you feel s’ good.” his hand squeezing your ass as L pounds into roughly.” “i think m’ gonna cum.” L nods his head signaling that he is gonna cum too.” then a hot liquid releases from the booth of you. you are both so out of breath. hair all messed up and so exhausted. once L is out of you he helps you sit up on the bed.

dilf!L places kisses all over your face while walking you to the shower to clean off. you both use the bathroom first before getting into the shower. after cleaning up L helps you get into the bed due to you being extremely sore. “do you wanna massage, anything to drink? just lemme know what you need? “i’m fine baby let’s just head to sleep.

dilf!L who spoons you wrapping his arms around your body while you both peacefully go to sleep.

[todoscript]

SEQUEL TO  “don’t forget it”

SYNOPSIS: One week after accidentally blowing you off on your date, Bakugou Katsuki seeks your forgiveness.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

genre: fluff, very little angst

word count: 5.4k+

warnings: none really accept maybe a character sustaining an injury

author’s note: hellooooo this is a very very very late part 2 of my don’t forget it drabble that many people asked for! i hope this lived up to your expectations and was worth the wait!

Since the events that led you to leave Bakugou’s room in a fit of bitterness after attempting to penetrate that thick head of his, he hadn’t been able to speak to you for a week.

It goes without saying he did his best to chase you down the hallway from his room and toward the elevator the moment he realized his faults. But at the stink eye you shot him through the minimizing slit of the elevator doors sliding into place, he knew he had no right to reconcile with you after pulling a stunt like that. Nor did he think you’d want to spare him any more words to begin with. It was clear you were done arguing with him.

“C’mon man, it’s probably best to let her cool down before you try to make up with her,” was the advice Kirishima offered when Bakugou returned to his room, disgruntled as he heavily fell back into his seat next to the desk. He did the bare minimum to acknowledge his friend’s words with a grunt before resuming tutoring the redhead, his method of teaching suddenly harsher than how it began thanks to his soured mood. He lapsed the day away by pounding Kirishima with problems upon problems against that hard noggin of his, both literally and figuratively.

At the very least, Kirishima earned himself a passing grade on their exam as a result of his hard work and their rigorous tutoring sessions. But what followed Bakugou’s and your relationship was still undetermined.

Days later and you were relentless in giving him the cold shoulder.

Bakugou was met with nothing but empty glances and blatant disinterest whenever he crossed your path. It felt like the wall you slotted between him grew another layer at each encounter, your defenses so impenetrable, it could give Kirishima’s quirk a run for its money. He couldn’t so much as utter a word in your direction without you effectively dodging every possible interaction in favor of joining another conversation nearby.

At first, Bakugou shrugged it off, calling your “childish attitude” unwarranted for something he thought was incredibly trivial. In his eyes, it was just an ordinary date at some run-of-the-mill restaurant he just happened to suggest to you because he took a liking to their spicy food. Not like it was some fancy dinner reservation serving caviar on dry toast beside a pretty, city night skyline. To him, it was nothing special.

However, as the week continued to roll by, it became clear to him how much he hurt you due to his selfishness. In a hangout with the Bakusquad, he learned that you apparently told Mina, along with the rest of the girls, everything during one of your girls’ nights. Which included the events prior to your heated argument in Bakugou’s dorm. And Mina, being just as peeved as you were at how Bakugou stood you up that day, had to let the blond know of the damage he’d done.

.

.

“I swear, Bakugou Katsuki, I know you can be an asshole sometimes—”

“Make that all the time,” Sero quietly adds in the middle of Mina’s rant while he lounges backward on Kaminari’s bed. If it wasn’t for his current dilemma, Bakugou would have elbowed him in the back of the head.

“—but this is crossing the line!” she finishes. Her arms are thrown exaggeratedly over her chest. The amber surrounded by the black scleras of her eyes points a beady look at the ash-blond crisscrossed on the floor between Kirishima and Kaminari.

“Poor girl sat there for hours waiting for you, only to find out she got blown off because you couldn’t even properly check your reminders!” She paces back and forth in the room, feet excessively stepping across the floor as she’s engulfed by the emotions she feels for her friend. “What’s worse? She comes back and finds out you’ve been doing your own thing with Kirishima the whole time!”

“Hey! It’s not like we were playing around! We were actually having a very serious study grind, thank you very much,” the redhead immediately clarifies. Though his explanation doesn’t alleviate Bakugou’s case in the slightest, who pounds his palms against the surface of the table they’ve gathered around.

“Look. I fucking get it, Ashido. I screwed up, okay?! Now what the fuck do you want me to do about it?!” he exclaims, anger overpowering his voice, but it does little to deter Mina.

“Fix it, obviously!” she quips back with equal fierceness, leaning in eye level with Bakugou.

“And how do you propose I do that, Raccoon Eyes? Hah?” Repositioning his elbow to rest on the table, he leans his cheek against his hand. “Y/n won’t even let me within five fucking feet in front of her and you still expect me ‘fix this’?”

Despite the situation weighing heavily on his shoulders, no immediate answer is bestowed upon him. That is, except the obnoxiously loud crinkle of a chip bag popping open next to Bakugou that cleaves into the scene like a record scratch. As if unable to read the mood in his own room, Kaminari fishes a chip to throw in his mouth, stirring the awkward silence into tension.

“Wow, Bakugou. I know you’re bad with girls and all, but you really messed up this time,” he remarks. His voice is slightly muffled as he munches his chips, continuing to wrinkle the bag for more. It incites a vein to swell on Bakugou’s forehead. He amasses all the willpower within him not to blast the bag of chips to ash, and the boy alongside it.

“If you dunce faces are just gonna sit here and throw salt in my wound then I’m outta here.”

“No, wait!” Kirishima catches Bakugou’s wrist before he fully lifts himself off the floor. “Come on, Bakugou, I’m sure we can think of something! We just need to put our heads together! Right, guys?” he assures. Finding it hard to deny his friend’s hardened conviction, Bakugou gives Kirishima the benefit of the doubt, albeit with slumped shoulders and a tentative raise of his brow as he slowly sits back down.

“Right! Everyone, let’s get some brainstorming done!” Mina yells encouragingly.

The atmosphere of Kaminari’s room is consumed by moderately thoughtful silence for the next ensuing minutes. A few hums pass, followed by an exchange of contemplative looks as four of the five rack their heads together to uncover a solution. The one in need of help only hunches in his seat, waiting with mild disinterest.

“Oh hey, don’t we have hero training with All Might tomorrow?” Sero is the first to comment, scooting to the edge of the blond’s bed.

“Yeah. So?”

“He said we were going to work on group exercises this time around. You know, teamwork and stuff,” he explains further.

At that, Mina snaps her fingers, the work of a brilliant idea flickering in her head. “Sero, that’s it! Tomorrow, during training, we’ll just form a group together with Y/n! After all, she’ll have to talk to Bakugou if you two are on the same team!” She claps her hands in front of her, her enthusiasm rippling through her body and shown energetically with each raise of her voice. “Then, while the rest of us ‘split up’ to cover more ground, that will be your chance to make everything better with Y/n! It’s genius!”

“You missed one fucking crucial detail, Pinky,” Bakugou gruffs. “That will only work if Y/n doesn’t join another group. The moment she sees I’m on yours, she’s not even going to hesitate making a u-turn.”

“Worry not~ I’ll just text all the girls except Y/n about the plan later and ask them to help sort everyone out!” She solves the problem with relative ease—quick as a click of her phone lighting up and finger sliding open to her messages.

“Uh, another thing though.” Kirishima raises his hand to spare his concern. “All Might says we’ll be splitting into groups of five at most, but there’s already five of us here.”

There’s a brief moment of deadpanning until Mina speaks casually. “Oh, that’s right. Kaminari. Take one for the team and make sure to join another group, ‘kay?” She settles without batting a lash.

Kaminari almost chokes on a mouthful of chips. “H-Huh?! What?! Why me?!!” he sputters.

“Because you’ve been eating chips this entire time and haven’t contributed to anything.”

“Hey, I offered the room, didn’t I?!” He tries justifying but is inevitably rejected by Mina’s wagging finger.

“Ah-ah, no complaints! Besides, it’s only one day of training. If we want this dilemma between Bakugou and Y/n fixed then we all have to play our part, got it?” Mina finalizes with a firm point of her finger nearly grazing the tip of the blond’s nose as he leans back to avoid it, eyebrows scrunched in discontent at the role he’s been reduced to.

“Alllllright!” Kirishima springs from his seat with outstretched arms and tightened fists. “Operation: Get Y/n to Forgive Explosion Boy is underway!”

“Dude, that’s a terrible name!” Sero laughs but rises from the bed to join the redhead’s cheer alongside Mina, the group already in high spirits.

Despite rolling his eyes at their swell of confidence, Bakugou does not object to the state of things. As crazy as it sounds, one could almost decipher the cusp of a grin pulling the seams of his lips as a possible sign he’s actually all for this extravagant little plan. Quite a first for Bakugou, but then again, there’s not much else he can do in this situation except rely on his pack of chumps.

Meanwhile, Kaminari grumbles something beneath the salty grit between his teeth.

“Alright, can you all get out of my room now?”

.

.

The scowl etched on your face carries a strong air of disdain that dampens the mood around your teammates considerably. Well, no one should be surprised. With Bakugou standing across from you, staring into the void of your expression, it’s to be expected that you wouldn’t be happy with this outcome.

No, “unhappy” doesn’t quite do your circumstance justice. You are beyond livid.

You feel your eyebrow twitch as you try quivering your lips to form a tinge of a smile. Unfortunately, all that quickly falls apart when you suddenly recall the disaster of last week, triggered by an accidental glance at Bakugou’s mug.

Trying to simmer down, you release a mental sigh amidst the turmoil boiling inside you.

Okay, maybe you’re over-exaggerating. Maybe you’re still just a bit too bitter for your own good and letting your emotions get to you. But in a class of twenty or some students, how did you end up in a group with the one person you were actively trying to avoid?

The moment All Might gave everyone the go-ahead to form their teams for today’s training exercise, you swiftly made a beeline toward two particular star students. Midoriya and Todoroki.

It was simple really. Your experiences throughout the school year told you Bakugou planned on staying away from his rivals when it came to teamwork, regardless of whether you’re there or not. He’s a competitive ass whose goal is to beat anyone he deems a threat in his climb to be the number one hero. It’s only logical you partner with people he adamantly dislikes to evade him.

Yet it seems fate has other plans for you today. By the time you found yourself pacing over to the two students you had in mind, they’d already gone and picked their own group members, forming teams before you could even ask.

Your nose wrinkles like you’ve taken a whiff of something rancid. Or, to be more specific, something fishy. Hooking an arm around Mina’s elbow, you drag the pink-haired girl off to a corner somewhere while tilting your head back at the three other boys.

“Ex. Cuse. Us.” Your words sound as stiff as cardboard. It comes out in practically a hiss when your eyes cross Bakugou. Once you’re positive you’re out of earshot, you whip your head at Mina.

“Mina, what the hell? When you dragged me over here to form a group with you you didn’t tell me he’d be there,” you groan. Childish and petty as you may sound, you just couldn’t fathom the idea of confronting the boy so soon.

Mina holds her hands out, ready to rationalize the whole ordeal. “C’mon Y/n, this is actually an advantage for us! With us four plus you on our team, we’re sure to knock the rest of the other guys out during training today! I mean we showed pretty good teamwork together at the sports festival, didn’t we?”

Steadying your gaze, you hold a finger below your chin as you slowly buy into the explanation. The reasoning is there. It’s hard to argue against a case like that, fully aware that being on the same team as explosion boy will easily snag good results for you and your party. ‘Cause as much of an arrogant jerk as he is, you have to admit Bakugou Katsuki knows his way around hero action like the back of his grenade gauntlets.

“Besides it’s not like you could avoid him for the entire school year. I mean, you two are in the same class. It was only a matter of time before you had to—”

“I know, Mina,” you interject, not wanting the rest of her sentence about the inevitable fall to your ear. “I just… Agh, you know what I mean!” You ruffle your hands through your hair in confliction, unsure how to piece your thoughts together.

Tilting your head over Mina’s shoulder, you sneak a glimpse at Bakugou, watching him as he’s cast to the side with the others. He’s fending himself from Kirishima and Sero’s combined jokes, that usual look on his face sending glares at the two and yelling something you could almost pick up on if you honed your ears a bit more. Surprisingly, when his eyes meet yours for a split second, he stands there looking nonchalant again. Both of you immediately avert your gazes.

Mina pats your shoulder, bringing you back to the conversation at hand. “I know, I know, but after this, I’m sure you can go back to ignoring his ass. After all, it’s just one training exercise, right?” she says. As her words deliver some relief to your ill-timed situation, you give in with a sigh.

Unbeknownst to you, turning your back to Mina and striding toward the rest of your teammates again, you miss the small glint in her yellow eyes, along with the subtle gestures she aims at the three boys, waving her pointed thumbs over your head secretively.

“So I take it you’re on the team with us, Y/n?” Sero asks when the two of you return. You nod in reply and the boy flashes his pearly whites in a wide grin that Kirishima mirrors. He nudges Bakugou at his sides which you subtly catch in the far corner of your eye.

You raise a brow suspiciously at their fidgeting, wondering why having you on their team warrants such enthusiasm, but you’re thankful for their energy at least. Someone has to lift the atmosphere for this not to be a complete drag and Bakugou surely isn’t going to be the mood maker of the group.

The blond scoffs. “Yeah, well, if you dumbasses are going to form a team with me, you’ll follow under my leadership, got it?”

The three readily agree. Though you roll your eyes, you don’t challenge his position, considering no one else is that much up to the task as he is. You’ll simply have to deal with the fact that you’re forced to tread through the day under his leadership. So with no objections, the five of you walk back to the class, gathering around the entrance of today’s battlefield.

Jumping into the activity, All Might goes about explaining today’s lesson to the four sets of teams—consisting of a group exercise to heighten teamwork. The name of the game? Capture the flag.

In short, each team will be split off into different sections of the labyrinth where their assigned flag is stationed. The objective is to not only protect your flag from being stolen but also try and steal an opposing team’s flag from their base and escort it safely to your home field. Nice and simple.

Not long after All Might’s explanation, the gate to the training grounds opens and you all scatter off into your teams, navigating through the twists of the maze to locate your flags. Once your group situated themselves onto your home base, you assemble in a huddle to devise a strategy before the game starts.

“So what’s the plan?” Kirishima asks, eyes darting around his teammates until they rest on Bakugou—the team leader. The ash-blond crosses his arms, a confident sneer plastered on his face as he’s already thought of his plan of action the moment All Might announced the mission.

“Easy. I’m going straight to the front-lines to swipe one of those dumbasses’ flags. You lot are gonna stay here and guard ours until I come back.” He delivers the strategy in a matter-of-fact tone that you quickly don’t take a liking to. Your fist curls in irritation.

“What kind of a plan is that?” you question audaciously, your voice louder than you intended. “So you’re just going to do all the work while we sit around and wait for you?”

Bakugou grits his teeth, leaning further into the huddle to direct his senseless logic. “Look, it’s the fastest and most surefire way to snag our victory without sacrificing anyone,” he says. Playing over his words again, he finds it surprising he even chooses to offer his reasoning. Because if it were anyone other than you he was arguing with, he’s certain he’d leave it at that.

Knowing the current tension between you was a result of his misjudgment, it feels only right for Bakugou to make an effort in communication. He ignores the antsy expressions belonging to the others who signal from behind you to follow along with their original plan.

You don’t seem to catch the hint, nor do you buy into his ridiculous strategy. “Oh, so you’re that confident you won’t get taken out by the other team then?” you quip. As a result, Bakugou’s brows tighten at your noncompliance.

“I know how to take care of myself. You of all people should realize by now that no other nerd in this whole damn class can outmatch me.”

“And what about an ambush? How do you know they simply won’t anticipate your strategy and see you coming?” You fire another counterargument and the boy purses his lips, beginning to find this quarrel spiraling into a headache rather than a step in the direction of reconciliation.

While Sero and Kirishima stand there, shifting their heads back and forth throughout the fiery exchange, Mina speedily reacts. The gears of that cunning mind of hers click into place again.

“You know what, Y/n’s right. Why don’t you two go together then?” she proposes boldly. Her suggestion catches you by complete surprise. You veer in her direction with an incredulous look blown in your eyes.

Before you can open your mouth to protest, the two boys standing beside her immediately back her up.

“Hm, Mina has a point. The chances of you falling into a trap wouldn’t be much if you two work together,” Sero remarks.

Kirishima follows, “Yeah, you guys can watch each other’s backs while going to collect the flag! It’s safer to go in a pair than by yourselves I’d say.”

The three seem adamant about the idea, sharing equally content expressions, and with all that said, you find it hard to dig yourself out of this situation. In a way, you practically volunteered yourself after questioning Bakugou’s plan and doubting his abilities. The group only feels it’s right you come along as his support since you clearly must be worried about his well-being.

Pushing your objections down your throat, you reluctantly agree to tag along with the blond. What you find exceptionally shocking is how Bakugou doesn’t oppose these new conditions. Given his hard-headed temperament, you thought he would’ve scoffed and turned his back at being paired without notice, but no such things were happening here.

...Odd.

“Tch, whatever. Let’s get going then,” is all he gives, starting in the direction into the urban area of the training course.

You trail behind him. “Coming, Boom-Boy…” you mutter the last bit but don’t suppress the urge to let your words be known. Bakugou turns his head and gives you a look akin to an uptight six-year-old you just offended at your local playground. You shrug in response, a corner of your lip pinched upward. He doesn’t pick a fight over the nickname, but his eyebrows remain fiercely slanted, and coupled with his heavy steps and the excessive swinging of his gauntlet-clad arms, it tells you of his emotional constipation plain as day.

.

.

The journey toward the other teams’ flags is cloaked in strained silence and the physical gap between you two does not encourage any of you to speak up. At this point, both of your levels of annoyance for each other have mellowed out. Now it just feels... awkward—strange. You don’t see his expression, nor does he see yours. It feels like you’re being left in the dark, having only the back of Bakugou’s head to stare at the entirety of the way, and though you supposedly have his back, Bakugou feels precarious in this state as he trudges along at the front, not daring to turn his head to cross your eyes.

The ambiance is reminiscent of the ancient Greek legend of Orpheus and Eurydice. Where Bakugou walks through the depths of the underworld, seeking you out in hopes you’d join his side once again. If he turns around now and spills his thoughts to you too soon, he fears that your forgiveness would be whisked away, thoroughly beyond his reach, and replaced with your promises of retribution.

That was the eloquent version of the situation anyway. To put it bluntly, Bakugou was just impatient as hell to say something to you. The silence suffocates him to the point where the words are nearly about to be squeezed out of his throat, but he bites his lip to snuff out the urges.

The more he keeps them in, the more fidgety he becomes, hands itchy and mouth trembling with grit between his teeth. The idea of not letting his voice be heard was something Bakugou detested. Mainly because it was already such a challenge to even keep his mouth shut, given his fiery attitude and lack of patience.

Man, what the hell am I hesitating for? he asks himself, that outspoken side of him spurring him on.

Ah, screw the uncertainty, he thinks. If he doesn’t say anything now, then he won’t get to say anything ever.

Bakugou stops in his tracks, turning his head. Here goes nothing,

“Hey, Y/n, I–”

“Katsuki–”

Words collide into each other, jumbled and incoherent, which take you two by surprise as you meet each other’s furrowed gazes. It’s quiet as you both piece your way through this, eyes trained like you haven’t seen each other in months when the reality is that a week of bitterness has somehow made you act like strangers. The bewildered look crossing his features is foreign to you; you’ve never quite seen Bakugou as taken aback as he is now.

“You first,” you grant before Bakugou could mix up your words again. Even being given permission, the blond still isn’t sure what to say, his thoughts lost on him the moment his voice clashed with yours. He takes a deep breath, calming his senses and steadying his mind for what he wants to convey.

“Look, Y/n, I don’t know how to put this as nicely as I can,” he begins, tone consistent yet wary, assessing your expression, “but I know I fucked up and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you there all by yourself. I shouldn’t… have blown you off like that and forgotten about you.” He delivers this bluntly—honestly—as open as a boy of his nature can muster with arms spread out, willingly exposing him to his faults and your reprisals.

Looking at you, he finds your eyes are cast to the floor, assuming to be reflecting on his words carefully. After some deliberation, you come across the vermillion in his eyes.

“Frankly, I haven’t entirely forgiven you just yet. But I will say that despite how I’ve been acting, I’m not as mad at you as you think,” is what you give, and Bakugou would be lying to himself if he didn’t achieve relief at your statement. He mentally releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding throughout the exchange. However, you aren’t done yet.

“I just want you to understand what moments like those mean to me. It’s during that time where I can share my feelings and learn more about you—understand who you are,” you say. Bakugou latches onto every word. “And it goes both ways, you know. It’s hard to want to stay in a relationship with someone who doesn’t make an effort to make time for you.” It’s obvious you aim that comment at him as Bakugou’s eyes soften slightly hearing it. His calloused, glove-clad hands wrap into his palms. Man, he really was a jerk.

“Still… I know you’re making an effort to be sincere and that you’re genuinely sorry for what happened, especially considering how the others seem to have set this whole conversation up, right?” Bakugou winces over the Bakusquad’s ploy coming to light and makes a note not to follow along next time unless those dummies can scrape up a more elaborate plan.

Despite that, he presses on, “So, what does this mean?” A smile settles on the curve of your lips, sensing his impatience as his voice hastens you along.

“Well…” you begin, speech drawn out in anticipation as you step toward him to where Bakugou follows your movements. That is until he catches a few shadowy figures shifting around atop the small building behind you. Before you can open your mouth to continue, his instincts flare to life.

“Hey, look out!” he exclaims, already acting on his warnings by lunging forward to push you out of the way. Your breaths draw back into your lungs, your body thrust abruptly into the opposite direction. Landing on your butt, you wince at both the shock and the pain, but your whines desist when you witness Bakugou taking a force to the head as a result of coming to your aid.

“Katsuki!” you yell, immediately getting off the ground to rush to his side, but he can’t find it in himself to respond. Afflicted with a substantial blow to the crown of his head, his whole being throbs and his vision spins.

Fuck, is Y/n, okay? is the first thing on his mind, ignoring the liquid trickling down his forehead. His question is answered upon turning his head to meet your anxious expression—your eyes wide and lips quivering as they move to say words he can’t exactly make out beneath the pounding sensations consuming his mind. As he feels a set of arms wrap around him, he tries discerning his surroundings to form a reply, but can only capture bits and pieces.

“—tsuki! ...old… n!”

“...god—! I’m so dead!”

A sputter of words tangling together is the last he hears before his vision fades to black.

.

.

The next time Bakugou awakes, his eyes slowly sever open to come face-to-face with a blurry white ceiling. The lights assault his vision as his senses take time to adjust, unraveling the environment to realize he’s laying on a bed—a hospital bed to be precise.

He attempts lifting himself but is met with retaliation in the form of his pulsating head which he immediately flinches at. His hand goes to rub his scalp to soothe the ache and he finds bandages wrapped tightly around him. “What the hell happened?” The last he remembers is traversing the urban area with you for the capture the flag mission before finally confronting the subject that had been plaguing your minds for a week now. After that, he caught sight of some object descending toward you and before he had even realized it, his feet had moved on their own. Next thing he knows, he’s waking up in the nurse’s office with a headache from hell.

Wait, what about you? Were you okay? Surely, he had to have pushed you out of the way in time, right?

His head moves quicker than it should’ve, revealing the other hospital bed in the room to be unoccupied, vacant. He sighs and his relief is further bolstered by the door to the nurse’s room opening to unveil you unharmed with only your heavy look of concern troubling him.

“Katsuki, oh thank god, you’re okay!” you say, quickly pacing over to his side with a glass of water in hand. You leave it at his bedside, sitting before him. Gauging your appearance up and down, Bakugou tries making out even the smallest details.

“You aren’t hurt?”

You’re appalled he would ask this despite clearly being the one patched up in a hospital bed right now, and likely sporting some serious head trauma.

“Of course I am, you’re the one that lunged forward to protect me,” you tell him. Bakugou looks down at his lap, figuring that was what happened, but hearing it from you comforted him more than he thought. However, his comfort is wretched from him by the intense pressure persisting in his skull. Seeing him in pain, you urge him to lay down and rest.

“How the hell did I end up here anyway?”

You fidget with your fingers, hesitating on answering. At that, the blond lifts a brow, suspicious.

“Mineta… accidentally dropped a rock on your head.”

“...You gotta be joking, right?”

Bakugou leers hard, finding the reason he was out of commission to be a damn pebble hitting his head a detriment to his pride. And because of Mineta of all fucking people. Still, if he hadn’t acted as quickly as he did, you would’ve been the one to meet his fate instead, and he weighed this outcome to better than the former.

Then you explain how the teachers had temporarily intervened to bring his unconscious body to the nurse’s, where the old lady went about tending to his injury. Said she did her job and all he needed was to rest and let her quirk take fuller effect within that time.

“So did we win the game?” He switches the topic to today’s mission of capture the flag that was cut short on his end.

You shake your head, but at least grant him the benefit of knowing Mineta’s team ended up placing last. At that, his eyelids shut and he crosses his arms behind his bandaged head. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t my intention to win anyway.”

You give him a look. “...Liar.”

Bakugou cracks an eye open at you. “Hah? What do you mean I’m a fucking liar?”

“I know you, Katsuki. I dated you, after all. And the Katsuki that I dated is an arrogant, competitive jerk who thinks of being the best above all else.” Bakugou scrunches his nose, wondering what you’re implying through your... overly frank descriptions. “Still… he’s sweet and caring at times… and reliable when he needs to be,” you continue, tone softening that draws Bakugou in, “And the kind of guy I want to give a second chance to.”

Absorbing your words, Bakugou blinks. “S-Seriously?” He doesn’t mean to stutter, but the offer catches him off-guard. He replays what you just said. That’s what he heard, right? A second chance?

You giggle at how uncharacteristically astonished he sounds. “Yes, seriously.”

“Does that mean you forgive me for what happened last week?”

You hum between pursed lips in playful contemplation. “Well, maybe you can redeem yourself by going on another date with me then?”

Hearing your proposal, a wide grin arcs his lips, edging into a smirk.

“That’s it? Well, I can definitely fucking do that,” he states, confidence rejuvenating his body at the new, hopeful chance before him.

“Oh, just one more thing though,” you suddenly add.

“What?”

“We are not going to that Chinese Restaurant again.”

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝐷𝑖𝑙𝑓!𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝐷𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑃𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑦 (𝑅𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑)

Warnings: NSFW content including marking, lactation kink, pregnancy sex. Older Ateez but age differences is still within legal boundaries. Allusions to infidelity (which I do not condone nor encourage)

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

"Y/N. Come on. You gotta focus."

In a futile attempt to try to get his favorite student to get divert her attention back to the screen in front of her, instead he was met by her arms which suddenly wrapped around him.

"Baby, this assignment is due in two days and you haven't even gotten one paragraph down."

Frowning and in need of affection, Y/N didn't budge and instead attempted to pull Hongjoong on top of her.

"I want you to cuddle me!" She demanded.

Hongjoong quickly caught himself before he toppled over her and accidentally put all his weight on the bump that was growing in her.

"And I'll cuddle you all you want.... but can you at least finish part of this?"

Realizing she wasn't going to give up anytime soon, Hongjoong reluctantly gave in and finally settled her on his lap, one arm wrapped around her shoulders while the other caressed the top of her swollen belly.

Not thinking too much about the tiny kisses she was placing along the side of his neck, Hongjoong tilted his head back to rest on the couch and closed his eyes, his body succumbing to the exhaustion of having to teach back at the school in the morning and coming back to help out his pregnant girlfriend. Taking advantage of his unguarded state, Y/N smirked before she latched her mouth onto a certain spot on his neck, sinking her teeth down and sucking on it harshly. Once Hongjoong realized what was happening, his eyes shot up and he carefully tried to pry Y/N off him, proving it to be more difficult since he couldn't use force in fear of hurting her.

"What the fuck Y/N?!" Hongjoong exclaimed when he came back from the bathroom, hand touching the very obvious mark left on his neck.

"I'm sorry. Couldn't help myself." She feigned an innocent smile.

"How am I supposed to go back to the school tomorrow with this on display for everyone to see? How will I even explain it?" He could already imagine the other teachers and students staring at it, the first group no doubt would be nosey and ask about it.

With a cocky grin, Y/N opened her laptop up again.

"Maybe now some of those hags will back off after they realize you're taken."

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

Coming back after a long day at the courthouse dealing with all the divorce shit, Seonghwa felt like he needed to release some stress or he'd go insane. Coming into the kitchen, he found you quietly standing over the stove, no doubt making food for both of you to eat. You giggled when you felt his hands embrace your large belly, you weren't that far along, but holy hell, carrying twins was something else.

"Have I ever told you you're so beautiful?" He whispered in your ear, teeth grazing against the shell of it. Of course your body was more reactive and sensitive to any touch because your hormones were all over the place. Seonghwa knew that as well and he loved playing with that fact.

Pulling you away from the kitchen, he guided you over to the couch and sat you down. You didn't even question him as he pushed your dress up and slid your panties down, you knew what he was aiming for. You simply inhaled deeply when his mouth began kissing along your inner thighs.

"I hope you don't mind babygirl, but I just really wanted to eat you out."

You nodded at him, resting your elbows on top of some of the cushions so it'd be more comfortable for you. Prying your legs apart as much as they could, Seonghwa carefully placed his mouth on your clit. Starting off with gentle suckles, they soon progressed to more sloppy and intense tongue movements, his lewd slurping sounds mixed in with your soft panting and moaning, setting the mood across the room. Another thing you loved about Seonghwa, he was an expert at oral sex, none of your younger past lovers compared to him in the slightest bit.

Seonghwa let out an accomplished groan when your juices stained all over his face and chin. Pulling away, he himself was panting by how breathless he was left, and he felt proud to see you in an equally similar state as him. Chuckling, he came up and kissed you hungrily, wanting you to taste yourself on his lips. He only pulled away momentarily to tease you.

"I didn't mean to eat my dessert before the meal, but I'm not sorry in the slightest bit."

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

Yunho didn't even know how to react. Coming home and finding it quiet as usual, he guessed you probably took a nap as you normally did around this time, the pregnancy causing you to become more tired than usual. That's why when he came into the room he was shocked to see you moving underneath the blankets. Your frustrated moans give a big hint as to what was happening.

"Y/N?"

Your eyes shot wide open and your head peeped out from under the covers. You suddenly felt so embarrased, your face turning bright red. You tossed over to the other side, hiding your face away from Yunho. Being the sweetheart he was, he went over to your side and caressed your figure.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt you." He apologized although he wasn't in the wrong.

Whining loudly, you punched the mattress underneath you.

"Stupid hormones driving me crazy. And my stupid fingers can't get around this huge belly." You complained as you looked down at the mound that stuck out through the blanket.

Not able to keep himself from smiling, Yunho's hand rested itself on your covered belly.

"It's cute though." He assured you.

Looking up at him, you bit your lip before asking him.

"Yunho.....could you please just......you know..?" You don't know why but you felt shy asking him about it especially given that you were pregnant by him nonetheless.

Yunho looked hesitant. He had fears about being intimate with you in your state, but he also felt bad that you had to go through this. Sighing softly, he scratched the back of your head.

"On our next visit, let's ask the doctor about if it's safe or not? Ok?"

Expecting your pouty face, Yunho pulled the covers off you, swallowing hard when he saw your beautiful, round pregnant body on display for him.

"But for now, are you ok with me using my fingers?"

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

Looking down at the pot filled with who knows what that Yeosang stirred which was bubbling rather oddly, your best bet was that he definitely didn't. The reddened cheeks that formed on his face was another telltale sign.

"Trust me honey. I got this."

Right as he said that, some of the contents spilled out, nearly burning the both of you. Luckily Yeosang draped an arm protectively around your barely noticeable bump and moved you back so neither of you were harmed. Instead, the floor became the victim. Having enough shenanigans from your caring lover, you reached over and quickly shut off the stove before anymore accidents happened.

"There goes my chances of wooing you over with my cooking skills." He snorted softly, but he felt bad that he couldn't even make a simple meal for you.

Wanting to cheer him up, you hugged his waist, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck.

"You've already won my heart over Mr. Kang, there's nothing left for you to claim."

Although he felt comforted by your words, there was something else he needed to hear.

"You know how I feel. Now go on... say my name." He commanded you.

Pecking his lips, you gave in. "Yeosang."

You let out a squeak when he pressed you against the counter, pulling you into a deeper kiss that was getting more and more heated. Your moment was interrupted when someone suddenly came into the scene, startling you both.

"Oh God Damian! You scared me man." Yeosang let out a relieved sigh when he saw it was only his trusted butler.

"Rest assured sir, I saw nothing and heard nothing." He smirked at them.

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

You grunted as you stripped yourself out of your shirt, the material feeling too confining and making your breasts feel more sore than they already felt. Standing in front of the mirror, you noticed how your breasts were practically popping out of the top of your bra.

"Sannie! Could you come help me out?" You called out to him.

"Yes my lovely baby mama?" He poked his head into the room, always ready to help you out if you needed it.

"Could you please unhook my bra, I can't reach."

Happy to help you, he came up behind you, eyes focused as he began undoing all of the hooks.

"Are they hurting you baby?" Looking up at the mirror, he saw your pouty face nodding at him.

"Would you like me to massage them for you?" He offered.

"Please." You begged, loving how gentle his hands were whenever he touched them.

Releasing your breasts out of their tight confinement, both you and San were in shock when tiny droplets of liquid gushed out of your nipples.

"Holy shit Y/N, are you already lactating?"

San stared at your breasts in amazement. Keeping his eyes focused on the mirror in front of you guys, his hands came up to gently squeeze your breasts, that tiny action making more milky substance to come out of you. You saw how San licked his lips and it gave you an idea. Tilting your head, you gave him a kiss on his jaw before telling him:

"Wanna suck on them?"

San looked shocked at your suggestion, but then he returned you around and pressed his face against your chest.

"Fuck yeah."

Not even thinking twice, San took one of your tits into his mouth, humming in pleasure as he sucked some of your milk into his mouth.

"We should make this a regular occurrence."

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

Mingi released soft and blissful sighs as he felt your body move on top of him. His hands held onto your hips, helping you set a slow and sensual pace as you grinded against his dick.

"You feeling good baby?" He asked, making sure you weren't uncomfortable or in pain.

Your only response was your head being thrown back as you spewed out moans from your throat. It seemed the pregnancy heightened your sensitivity, so every move against Mingi's pelvis felt absolutely amazing, especially when he reached a hand over to rub at your clit. He always made sure you felt as much pleasure as possible.

"That's it, there you go babygirl." Mingi himself was enjoying the change in your sex life. Ever since you both found out you were pregnant, you had to halt your rather kinky and intense fucking sessions and replaced them with more soft and romantic love making. Which neither of you minded, it felt much more intimate and helped you both bond even closer to each other.

"Are you close my little lady? I can feel you squeeze tighter around my cock."

Although you were indeed close, you didn't want to cum just yet, not without asking you something first.

"Mingi......please....spank my ass." You turned your head so you could partially see his face from behind you.

Mingi blinked slowly at your request, unsure of what to do. Wanting to please you, he took one hand off your hip and used it to lightly spank the top of your ass. Although it was a rather tame slap, it was enough for you to start cumming on top of him. Mingi of course held you up, continuing to bury his cock inside you, sliding in and out so he could help make your high last longer til eventually he himself was cumming up into you. Making sure both of you were satisfied, he pulled you off him so he could clean you up.

"So I see you still become a mess when someone spanks you." He teased you, moving some hair out of your face so he could properly kiss you.

"Hey, I'm still your little brat even if I'm carrying our soon to be brat."

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

Wooyoung slid the tip of his cock against your folds. Although he was anxious to be inside you once again, he had to make sure you were all right and not uncomfortable in any shape or form.

"You sure about this baby? We could try something else if you'd like." He assured you, one hand coming down to gently press against your pregnant belly.

"I'm fine Wooyoung. I just wanna feel your cock inside me again. It's been too long and I need it." You whined out, desperate to get some sort of release through something that wasn't from Wooyoung's tongue or fingers, although they always left you satisfied.

Wooyoung was extremely careful and slow as he plunged himself into you from behind, both of you moaning out loud when were connected once again after a long time. Pulling out once more, Wooyoung made sure to go easy on you, his fingers kneading the soft flesh of your hips and ass as he moved to and fro with leisurely yet deep strokes into you.

"Fuck! You feel so good!" You couldn't help but exclaim as you felt every vein and ridge of his dick hitting deep inside your tight walls.

"You missed this didn't you babygirl? Missed being my little toy?" He couldn't hide the smirk on his face as he went slightly harder against her but not so much. Reaching one hand over, his fingers rubbed at her clit, knowing it would drive her crazy.

"Y-yes! I missed this." You gasped out, unable to think about anything except Wooyoung's dick inside you.

"You dirty girl, even after I get you all knocked up, you still want to get fucked by me."

Rubbing his fingers faster against your clit, his other hand held onto your hip so he could angle himself to hit against your g-spot, brushing his tip over and over again on it so he could send you cumming all over him.

"But that's ok, I'll make sure to fuck another baby into you if that's what you want."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

Opening your eyes, you smiled shyly as you woke up to your husband's face sleeping soundly next to you, one of his buff and strong arms was thrown over your body, laying protectively on your bump. Gently prying his hand off you without disturbing him, you quietly got out of the bed and walked out into the balcony of your hotel room, not bothering to cover up your naked body with a robe or anything.

You felt free, truly free as you gazed out at the beautiful scenery of the beach in front of you, a quick getaway place you and Jongho chose as your honeymoon destination after you both literally eloped not even 2 days ago. You wondered what were your parents and former fiancee thinking now, no doubt they were probably looking all over for you or were barely finding out the secret you two had kept for so long.

But you couldn't bring yourself to care. You didn't regret anything, if anything you would have regretted everything if you hadn't escaped with Jongho, whom you hadn't noticed had woken up until you felt his hands on your hips.

"Look at you little vixen coming out here wearing absolutely nothing. What? Did you want anyone passing by to see you standing here all nude?" His tone let you know he wasn't mad, he was simply poking fun at you.

"Hmmm maybe? Would it make you jealous to know someone who isn't you saw me like this?" You joked back at him, pushing your ass back onto him, a grin on your face when you felt his dick poke at your hip, letting you know that he too came out with no clothes on.

"On the contrary my little vixen, you wanted to give them a show?" You bit your lip when he began kissing your shoulder and neck, aligning himself at your entrance.

"I'll make sure we both give them a show."

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.

[cinderspots]

Now more random but still in Greek Mythology theme.

The reader can call Pegasus whenever they want and for some reason has a litteral army of dogs (Various breeds and they are at least 300), Reader control all of them.

The reader does say it but no one believes them due to them being a delusional (Daniela kind of Delusional. Yeah it's bad) than one day, the creatures just show up to get rid of any threat really.

How will the Ladies of Re8 react ?

Lmao should I start calling you Myth Anon?

Hope you enjoy ❤

Included: Mother Miranda, Mia Winters, Donna Beneviento, Alcina Dimitrescu, Bela Dimitrescu, Cassandra Dimitrescu, Daniela Dimitrescu

Mother Miranda

Due to your tendency to....imagine she barely even remembers nodding but not really believing

You're a little irritated by this but you dont bother bringing it up again

It's only when a pack of rogue lycan attack her that it comes to mind again

She may be a goddess but theres only so much she can do at once

So you stroll up (ignoring her cries for you to run) and just casually call hundreds of hounds

Miranda will never admit but she was shooketh

And when you realized she needed to be taken back home quickly to heal you called a pegasus

Well great, now Miranda's wondering what else you said was true

(Maybe there was a disposal monster?)

Mia Winters

Mia tries to be supportive but it can get exhausting

So when you bring that up she just checks it off as another crazy thing

Until she mumbles something about what would it be like to fly?

Oh you can do that!

Cue pegasus

Mia is....kind of embarrassed actually, she shouldve believed you or at least looked into it

(And when she comes home to hundreds of hounds she definitely re-evaluates)

Donna Beneviento

Donna has her own fair share of delusions so she understands

You really do believe that a ghost clown has been following you for your entire life

(She doesnt understand, hes standing there in the mirror every day, hes real)

Angie says shes bored one day and the dolls arent what shes looking for

So you call 30 or so hounds for her to play with

Donna makes no comment, but also wonders if she should check for clowns

Alcina Dimitrescu

She understands, her own daughter has the same problems but Oh my god you are not seeing a poltergeist

One day some sămca have the audacity to crash through a window and just casually pick Bela up??

Yeah nobody understood

But you got a Lyft from a pegasus (paid in gold, to eat and some sugar cubes as a tip) and solved the problem

:D

You are required to prove things now when you say them purely because alcina doesnt know what's real coming from you

Bela Dimitrescu

Same situation

But Bela is STILL skeptical

Like

The girl saw the flying horse right?

But she doesnt question the things you say as much

(Also in warmer months please take her on sky tours omg)

Cassandra Dimitrescu

Man she WISHES the hound thing was true

You two somehow end up competing in a hunt (because you thought you would win??)

And you just go fuck it and call some hounds over to definitely cheat

Cassandra is pissed at first but then over the moon

You are required to call of them that instant so Cassandra can play with them

Daniela Dimitrescu

Shes equally as bad so she actually tends to believe you easily

But oh my god hundreds of hounds to play with????

Daniela is in love

Sorry, you need to move, shes talking Bacon and Eggs

[godlygreta]

i never stopped loving you | j. kiszka

title | i never stopped loving you

summary | jake and y/n have known each other since grade school, they’ve been neighbors forever. a bit of romance ensues, but ends fairly quickly when complications arise while the boys are touring. a trip home from college ends in a slightly drunk confession.

warnings | some mature themes (bit of sex, but not explicitly), swearing, slight angst

word count | 2.5k+

author’s note | hi! this is the first thing i’ve written for any of the boys, so i hope you enjoy. i’ve written for other bands before, so writing isn’t new to me, but writing for greta is.

“I never stopped loving you.”

It slipped out. It didn’t mean to come out. Jake didn’t necessarily want it to come out. They say drunk words are sober thoughts, right? At the same time, who trusts the words of a drunk person? Usually it’s just brushed off as babbling, but Y/N couldn’t ignore what Jake said. Especially because she couldn’t blame it on not hearing him. There was no music playing outside the bar. The music was faint enough that anything Jake had said was heard.

High school was rough for Y/N with hormones mixed in with academics, horny teenage boys at every turn. Y/N wasn’t even interested in dating, not due to the fact that nobody was necessarily interested in her, but because she was too focused on her studies to even give a damn. School dances were a nice break from academics. There was a shift, though, when one boy in particular would start to really pay attention to her.

Jake Kiszka was charismatic in every sense of the word. Him and his twin brother, Josh, were always the two sweetest, yet most famous troublemakers in all of Frankenmuth High School. It got even worse when their younger brother, Sam, ended up in high school with them as a freshman. Jake had girls wrapped around his finger from the moment he had gotten a haircut. His hair was a lot shorter than before and barely even touched his forehead. Y/N didn’t really give a damn. To her, he was still Jake Kiszka, neighbor.

Their parents were friends and always hungout on the weekends. Y/N’s family had a cabin on the lake which they always vacationed at and occasionally would bring Jake’s family with. One particular summer, they stayed there for a week between the summer of sophomore and junior year. The summer’s were always hot, but this week in particular was hotter than the other summer’s before. “It feels like the Devil’s asshole out here.”

“I know, Mary, but that’s the exact reason we chose to come here this week. The kids can swim in the lake, it’s a lot cooler in the water than on the grass.” Y/N’s dad spoke, returning the conversation from her mother. He gave her a quick kiss on the side of the head and returned to unpacking the car. Y/N and the boys had already gone into the house and picked their rooms. The boys shared one, and Y/N got one of the spare bedrooms. 

Dinner was made as soon as everyone was settled in. Everyone sat around the dining table, laughing and eating as they did almost every weekend. “You excited for Junior year, Y/N?”

“Yeah, I’m sort of nervous about taking the SAT and ACT. I’ve been studying when I’m not working at the shop.” She picked at some asparagus on her plate as she answered Mrs. Kiszka’s  question. Jake and Josh weren’t entirely ecstatic about it, it didn’t really matter to either of them. Music was their passion and that was never going to change.

Smores after dinner was a tradition that started when they were all really little, barely old enough to eat them. The fire was lit by Mr. Kiszka and Mr. Y/L/N. Jake, Sam and Josh had always played music while the rest of them made their smores. Y/N always made extras for the boys for when they were done playing music. Whenever they had no idea what to play, Y/N always knew the answer. Running out of songs to play, though, was a rarity in itself. The Kiszka’s knew so much about their sound, nothing was in their way of playing songs that fit it. However, every once in a blue moon they would ask their friend what she would like to hear. “C’mon now. You should know I’m a sucker for The Beatles.”

Y/N could recognize the sound of Blackbird the second it started playing. She had only listened to it eight million times that summer. She hummed lightly along as they played. Everyone clapped as soon as their song was over, the boys immediately delving into their smores. Y/N had finally taken a seat next to Josh when she was finished making their smores for them. Once their parents had gone inside, though, Y/N and the twins dipped into their parents' cooler of beer.

Neither of the sets of parents cared, they knew their kids would be safe and unharmed if they drank at the cabin. Jokes were told and stories of the past school year were discussed, as well as the future. A topic so vast for high schoolers. “I still can’t decide between a lawyer and an art teacher.”

“You’ve always been great at arguing,” Josh joked, “Practically got fuckin’ Lindsey McNeil out of that suspension.”

“It wasn’t fair. All she did was stand up for herself and what she believed in, plus that teacher is fucking creepy and everyone knows it.” Everybody laughed, the beer in everyone’s hands was getting a little warmer with every minute that passed by. Everyone filtered out one by one. Sam went in first, followed by Ronnie (she was slightly upset about coming, having made other plans with friends for the hot weather), and then Josh followed, leaving behind Jake and Y/N.

“Did you want to go inside yet or stay out here for a bit longer?” The silence beforehand hadn’t been awkward for the pair. “Cause I was thinking of going swimming for a bit.”

“I’ll join you, we haven’t swam yet today.”

The sand leading into the lake was met with a bit of rocks. It was picturesque under the moonlight. The pair discarded their clothing, leaving their underwear and got into the water. The coolness of the water sent goosebumps along her skin, leaving no piece without some. Jake followed in behind her, coming up next to her before completely dipping under the water. He popped back up and shook his head.

“You know,” Y/N started, “I think you’d look really good with longer hair.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. You should grow it out.” She swiped his hair out of the way and giggled a bit. “You’ll still never be prettier than I am.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, darling.”

The rest of the summer followed with light flirting and spending lots of time together. Junior year came around and nothing changed a bit. Prom was spent with the Kiszka family, Josh driving the three of you, as well as Josh’s date. The dance was lame, the songs were overplayed pop music, which Y/N secretly had a bit of a soft spot for. She would never tell that to Jake, though.

The pair ended up back at Y/N’s house, giggling all the way up to her room. He went into the bathroom to take his suit off, using one of Y/N’s hangers to make sure it wouldn’t wrinkle. However, Y/N was still having issues. She couldn’t manage to undo the zipper by herself, waiting for Jake to come back into the room to do it for her. He came back in, saw her still in her dress. “Need my help?”

“My zipper -- I can’t reach it.”

“I can do it,” he whispered, knowing Y/N’s parents were asleep. His hands were warm against her back, undoing her zipper slowly. The moonlight coming in from the window felt like that hot summer night at the cabin. He slid the straps down her shoulders, his mouth slightly agape. How could someone look so beautiful and delicate at the same time?

She turned around, her body facing Jake’s. He stuttered, telling her he could leave and he was honestly about to. Until he felt her hand grab his wrist. “Don’t go.”

He nodded his head, helping her get the rest of the way out of her dress. She stepped closer to him and put her hands on his chest. She could feel how fast his heart was beating. She had a hard time meeting his gaze, nervous of him not feeling the same way she had been. “You looked really good tonight.”

“Me? Everybody was staring at you the whole time, Y/N,” he spoke, one hand finding their way to her waist, the other pulling on her chin to force eye contact. “You looked absolutely breathtaking.”

There was a split second where both of them second guessed themselves. But it was over when Y/N pressed her lips lightly against Jake’s. It was such a feathery light touch, it almost felt like she wasn’t even kissing him. She pulled away slowly, her eyes closed, not really knowing what to do next. She didn’t have to figure it out though, Jake’s lips returned to hers with more pressure.

His hands had found their rightful place on her back, bringing her closer to him. Hers found their way into his hair. It felt so natural - the need for each other grew stronger with each passing minute. His mouth never wanted to leave hers, it felt as though her lips were coated in fucking drugs the way they were so addicting. He couldn’t get enough. “Do you want to..?”

“Yes, please.” It came out so needy - desperate. Y/N didn’t even care about how that presented itself to Jake. She just wanted to be even closer to him than she already was. And she got to be right where she wanted to be.

Her bed was more comfy than Jake had previously remembered. Or maybe that was because they were here under different circumstances, not just studying algebra because Jake wasn’t quite getting it. All he knew was that he wasn’t ever going to forget it. He wanted this moment to replay forever and ever. Not because he was just some horny teenager, but because holy fuck, this had just been some random thought - a daydream, almost. But this was real. This was happening.

A tangled mess they were when climaxing. “I love you,” came out as barely above a whisper. It took Y/N a half of a second to register what he was really saying before it finally hit her. She didn’t feel as if she had to say it back, if anything, he should realize that she loved him too.

“I could honestly stay here forever and stare at you until the end of time.”

“So do it. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

They didn’t though. And it wasn’t that simple. Complications arose after that night. Everything got messy and trying to tie in a relationship while the band was traveling and on the road became increasingly difficult, especially when Y/N went to college.

She came home to Frankenmuth while she was off for the summer. Her mother and father missed her a great deal and the first weekend home was spent in the Kiszka’s backyard, the boys excluded. It was weird to be at their house and not see them littered around anywhere. Ronnie was full of stories though, telling Y/N about previous times the boys have come home from touring and the memories they brought back with him.

It was painful to hear, but she was so incredibly proud of everything they had accomplished and done. Every once in a while, Y/N had checked up on their band's Instagram account. When she was really nervous — having a hard time not worrying about them — she texted Josh or Danny. Neither of them were ever going to say anything to Jake or mention it to Sam.

The two families decided to get together and have dinner at a local bar. The boys were still away, they weren’t scheduled to come back to Michigan for at least another month and a half. Ronnie and Y/N spent most of their time talking about future plans for the upcoming weeks while their parents discuss their weekend plans — what to have for dinner and who’s house to have dinner at. Time had passed quickly and before they knew it, it was 10pm.

The parents had left, leaving Ronnie and Y/N at the bar by themselves. At least, that was until the boys walked in.

Ronnie smiled widely, hugging her brothers but then proceeding to punch them for surprising her and not just telling her. Josh and Danny hugged Y/N first, Sam leading after. Jake didn’t hug Y/N. It stung a bit. It made sense though. The last time they talked — it ended in an argument which was the resulting cause of their breakup.

A few drinks were downed, a couple shots thrown in there as well. Y/N figured it was time to throw the towel in. She couldn’t handle the awkward glances and forced conversation on their part. She grabbed her jacket off the back of her chair and put it on as she said goodbye to everyone. “Boys, lovely to see you again. I’m sure I’ll see you this weekend.”

She wasn’t going to. She was gonna avoid them at all costs. Come up with a lie — say she had the flu or something. Her mother would believe her either way, as well as understand where she was coming from with her avoidance. Her mother was there for her while she cried her eyes out.

She didn’t notice when Jake had followed her out. She didn’t notice him calling her name. The only thing she could notice was the tears falling down her cheeks, wiping them as soon as she felt them.

“I never stopped loving you.”

It slipped out. It didn’t mean to come out. Jake didn’t necessarily want it to come out. They say drunk words are sober thoughts, right? At the same time, who trusts the words of a drunk person? Usually it’s just brushed off as babbling, but Y/N couldn’t ignore what Jake said. Especially because she couldn’t blame it on not hearing him. There was no music playing outside the bar. The music was faint enough that anything Jake had said was heard.

“When we broke up,” he started. “I was a wreck. I was immature. It could’ve worked out - it would’ve worked out if I wasn’t such a child about everything.”

“Jake —“

“No, Y/N, I need to say this now. I’m a little drunk so I actually have the balls to say everything I want to. It was stupid to break up over something as menial as distance. The things I feel for you are so intense it scares the fuck out of me. I was so afraid of being gone all the time. You deserved someone who could be there to help you study for midterms. I was always in another state and sometimes another country. I wasn’t… there to be able to help you through anything. Everything’s different now, though.”

She sighed, not entirely sure on what to do with the information that was thrown at her. She was sober enough to remember the conversation tomorrow, but not nearly drunk enough to be able to deal with it tonight. “Do you wanna just come home with me? Talk about this tomorrow morning when we’re both sober.”

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

[pufflocks]

Kuroo x bottom male reader, maybe readers riding him?

Summary: Honestly in my mind–, I believe if Kuroo had someone sitting on his cock I believe he would be so touchy. Touchy and impatient— Touching the readers curves and rubbing on his thighs until he couldn't take it anymore. ♡

"You- You are so fucking tight- ugh, I love it." -T.K ❣

Warnings: Slight degrading • Groping • Cum eating • Proof read • porn without plot

Cast: Bottom!M!Reader x Kuroo Tesuro //Kenma Kozumane//

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

It was an alluring Friday. Volleyball club didn't have another practice until next week. Leaving an eventful evening afterschool for a certain couple.

"Phew I'm fuckin' exhausted-" Tetsurou exhaled stretching out his long limbs. Many people, according to Y/N would kill for his height. Yet he was always saying how much he hated it. Words only to tick his boyfriend off – which it did.

The rooster haired male slicked back his sweat covered hair. "Oi, kenma I'm gonna head out first since my oh so handsome boyfriend wanted me to take him home early." Kenma nodded quietly, chugging his water down quietly. He gathered his belongings along with the other members of the team.

'I wonder why he needs a chaperone to walk him home..' Kenma sighed. Shaking off the thought since it was not his business. Besides that he started picking up some stray volleyballs. Faster he does this the faster he gets home to play video games with his boyfriend.

You however, was just about to get out of your last period. Thinking about some random things to get out of the fact you and nekomas volleyball captain sending eachother lewd glances throughout the day. One action led to another throughout the day.

You sitting in the back of class softly giggling to yourself once while at your phone and blushing at other texts. Some texts were cute flirts like "I can't wait to see you" or "Coach is being extra angry. He needs pop a chocky milk" Leading to a raging tent in your pants in your last class period when he sent a slick nude of a boner he accumulated in the past hour. Ugh— The clock nearing 3 PM setting you slight edge in your seat.

BRING !

'Thankfully the teacher didn't see me with my phone.'

Sighing tremendously you snatched up your bag that had a cheesy volleyball sticker in nekomas colors with a big number '1' on it. Gifted by your yours truly, Tetsurou Kuroo aka rooster bf. A small nickname you gave him in your guys' first year.

You chuckled at your own humor as you bumped into someone the way out of your classroom.

"Ah-!" You failed to finish your small mental comedy show as your overly tall boyfriend encased you in a nearly bone crushing hug. Lovingly of course.

Your not so obvious erection slightly catching contact on his muscular thigh. "You scared me tetsu- Come on lets go." You grab hold of the mans hand in dire need to fix your lower situation, pronto. One think you hated about your boyfriend was how much of a tease he so unashamedly was.

You both agreed, over text to leave early to do it after class since he didn't have practice today.

"What's the rush doll ? You were just teasing me with that I wanna ride you BS over the phone." He snickered. Face automatically bloomed red as you scoffed in face. Pushy bastard he is.

"Yeah yeah. Come on before people see-" And before you knew it. Your boyfriend took one glace down south to notice you weren't lying. Your small cock pressing up against the unformed pants.

'Cute how eager he is~' he mentally mused.

He took this opportunity to just drag you to an already emptied classroom. The school seemed to empty out earlier on Fridays, you thought. Slowly coming back to your own senses you see just how peckish he really was. Air thickening. Your noticable shudders of arousal not going unnoticed.

"God,, I need you right now." No other words were conversed between you two as he eagerly ripped and tugged the cloth off your smaller frame. Canines slightly nipping at now heated skin and grabbing wherever his hands could easily roam. Sloppy kisses to your neck making you gasp and make your penis twitch in gratitude.

"Please tetsu.. I want it badly~" You moaned wantonly as he was gripping some belly fat lovingly. Tetsurou grinned as if he was a wolf in the night howling at the moon.

Grabbing a nearby chair, after he let you go with a small peck to your nose he sat down and shrugged off his trousers. Hard organ slapping on his lean stomach. The sight making you purr in the presence of this 'wolf'

'I can't wait to fucking ride him..'

The sight of his cock made you rub your legs together eagerly. A small "Hm..~" erupting from your throat. Oh god did it not only have girth and a red bulge of its head – His length and overall cock had been mesmerized in your small pink hole.

"Wanna ride you Tetsu.." you mewled already palming the hard on in your now very tight pants.

He pulled you closer and gripped your chin to make you look at him as he stroked his cock teasingly, "Wanna ride me dry and see if you can come undone or vise verse but you blow me ? Which is it sweetheart ?" Darting dark eyes your way as he audibly purred. Kind to not so kind kisses being placed to your collarbone making you shiver as his cold lips met your hot skin.

New hickies you never minded showing off, just as much as he never minded giving you to show off.

The choices were hanging heavy on your tongue, now realizing his question. Almost obediently, in one swift motion you got down your knees willingly let him unravel you with his slim eyes.

"Such a lucky ass man I am~"

Fuck you wanted him so bad.

"You gonna blow me my pretty Y/N ?" He said stroking your cheek as if you were the most rarest diamond from his thief heist. To him you were not only rare, but valuable beyond his mind.

Grasping hold of his member you lick up his shaft kissing here and there. Making quick work to get to the main course.

Tetsurou smiled. His pretty boy serving his cock like it was something holy. Before he knew it you started gulping down his length. Slobber dribbling at the creases of your mouth. Pretty eyes of yours making their ways to your rooster headed lover.

"Fuck-! Baby I'ma fuckin' cum-" He groaned, head flying backward as you got off hearing him announce he was gonna shoot down your throat. Swallowing every. Single. Drop.

"Shit.. You gonna take daddies cum baby ? Yeah ? Where you want it ? Tell me babes." He was tapping his cock against your now plump and messy lips as he stroked himself off to your filthy face. Fuck, he was using your face for his own pleasure. You wanted him to know how much you enjoyed this.

"Mm- I want it in my mouth!~ please stick your cock deep down my throat daddy!~" You whined pathetically stroking your own leaking cock and using your own arousal for lube. The lewd squlching noises invading your ears.

He snorted at your poor attempts at getting yourself off and opened your jaw enough to shove all the way in down your throat. Tears prickling and threatening to fall down your face. You let out small gags leading to moans from the action as he shot down your throat. You swallowed his seed successfully, sticking out your tongue to show you did.

"Such a pretty boy.. Fuck such pretty boy." Tetsurou praised as he wiped the tears you ignored from your puffy eyes. Also unnoticing the ringing one of your phones was doing. You didn't care though. "We ain't done yet though. Get your sweet ass up here my prince." You joyfully obliged as he helped you off your knees seeing they were red. He started rubbing small circles and kissing your bare shoulders. A way of saying sorry for making you be on yourknees for so long.

'So caring~' You groggily giggled to yourself due to your throat being slightly sore from your guys' previous actions. Damn he was rough this time. Does being found out really get him this riled up ?

He cocked an eyebrow, "What's wrong ? Did a do something silly ?" He wore his signature smirk. The one you loved and hated. A calming and goofy aura being replaced with the once heated lustful one. All you could do was giggle again and cup his face in the moment. Just enjoying him.

"You're just so caring with me and I love you for moments like these." You confessed. Heart beating erratically as he chuckled kissing your nose.

"I know. I'm a big ass softy for my boyfriend believe it or not." You rolled your eyes jokingly. You loved this man, but you also loved his cock which by the way, still hasn't gone soft yet.

Turning around in his lap you wrapped your arms and legs around his form as you whispered alluringly. "Let me do the work cuz my dick is aching now and I needa cum stupid bad." You smiled devilishly. He once again for the umpteenth time, chuckled at your words and throwing his hands up.

"No hands my prince. No hands." You nodded. Knowing full well he would lose it half way of your quote unquote dominance.

You slowly and steadily began inserting his member inside. God, the stretch you fucking waited for was heavenly. Making it all the more nearly impossible to not close your eyes in delight.

Sucking through his teeth your boyfriend let out a long "Fuuuck..~" as groaned instinctively grasping onto your hips. On a loose thread of keeping his promise of letting you in control.

"God, you're so fucking- huge-! Testu~" You whined already grinding the rest of length into your now gaping hole. The feeling all too familiar to your body. Soon beginning to bounce up and down with pure greed. Not giving the slightest flying fuck if someone were to see you through the small class window as you were rolling your eyes back in ecstasy like a expert porn star.

"You- You're so fucking tight.. Ugh- fuck I love it !~" He moaned out aggressively as your bouncing only quickened at his words slapping sounds got louder. "Who's fucking cock are you riding Y/N ?" He growled and huffed bear your neck. His breath tickling the hairs in the area.

Noticing he didn't get any answer to his no rhetorical question, Tesurou slapped your ass harshly leaving a delicious itchy feeling rupture in the spot his heavy hand slammed on. You lost it as an almost unbearable amount of pre ran down your cock.

"You- Ah!~ Fuck it's you Testu!~ Your cock- Ah-!~ is hitting me in all the right places oh my fucking god!-" You shrieked small little tears making their way down your ruined face.

'This slut is really egging me the fuck on today~' Tetsurou mentally grinned.

Not only did he like the words coming out of your mouth, but he lived for those damn tears of diamond racing out the corners of your eyes. "

"Fuck it. I'm pounding the shit out of this ass." He mumbled to himself as he snatched you off of his body as if it was completely nothing and pressed you forward on a desk, your perky nipples grazing the cold school furniture.

He took a second to adjust his angle until ramming into your prostate directly dead on as you let out a high pitched warble. Anyone could mistake your voice for a females out of context. "Fuck-! fuck- MM— FUCK YES~" you moaned as your cock swung heavily in between your legs as Tetsurou began deep stroking every corner inside you. The feelings making your mind go numb.

"Baby boy I'm finna blow my load~ Who the fuck is fucking your shit up right ? Huh ?~" Testu's snarled in your ear. Snatching you up by your neck up to his sweaty hard chest. Your bodies creating an almost unbearable heat between you both.

You whined in a needy voice as the feeling of your prostate getting hammered repeatedly. "YOU DADDY~ YOU YOU YOU~!!! GOD LEMME CUM FUUUCK—" His grip on your neck did not falter as his pace only got faster. Quickly gripping your slick penis and jerked you off all the while placing delectable light kisses around your bruised neck and shoulders. You were nearly seeing stars with overstimulation and his contrast of touch.

"That's exactly what I like to hear my amazing boy~" Tetsurou hips stuttered as you came hard, your eyes rolling back and drool sliding down your jaw. Coming straight after your release he gave one last deep push cumming deep down in your tight little ass. "Fuck babe..- Fuck-" He panted smiling lazily, grip already faltering around your neck. He never would forgive himself if he accidentally choked you to death.

Since you guys literally just fucked in a classroom, aftercare had to be done differently. Slowly laying his head on your shoulder, rubbing your hips and doing anything to ease any after pain off your body. Maybe you'll let him try out a cream he uses on himself after volleyball. Eases the joints and moisturizes your body.

Such a loving boyfriend you bad.

"I love you so damn stinkn' much Y/N.. God I'm so fucking lucky I swear." You chuckled, 'cause he always seemed to be so emotional after you guys had sex. You thought it was cute coming from him. "Let's get out of here cuz' we already stayed here for half an hour." You stated pushing the tall male off your body, much to his unpleasant dismay. He only hummed in response.

"Your house or mine ?" He questioned after pulling up his pants and tugging his extra volleyball shirt on. You stretched while yawning a bit. Sex is tiring.

"Yours. My parents will automatically smell the sex on me and no cologne can cover that." Giggling softly at your statement your boyfriend nodding in a agreement.

"Let's just hope they dont find out we once fucked in your living room-" You glared at him as he stopped, snickering at how cute his boyfriend looked after being roughed up.

"Let's go so we can cuddle now please." You softly pleaded as you tugged his shirt tiredly. You know the first thing you were gonna do when you got to his house was instantly plop smack on his oversized bed.

"Let's go my prince."

Bees are pretty..

Zenna, no.

[honeypiehotchner]

Unconventional (Hotch x Fem!Reader) — part eight

I’m currently babysitting a barely 8 week old kitten so you can imagine how hard it is to type right now, but anywho! Things are about to get good ;)

Warnings: the typical ~suggestive~ comments that are about to get more frequent but that’s about it here

Previous chapter || Fic Masterlist || Hotch Masterlist

You spend most of the night idly scrolling through the gallery of dresses.

Aaron took you out for dinner as promised, but due to his and your never ending piles of work, you both parted ways after eating. Not for lack of communicating, though, because he’s practically texting you every hour.

Aaron: The plan is to leave for New York by 5pm on Friday. Does this work for you?

You smile, knowing it’s the bare minimum for him to coordinate with you, but still loving it regardless.

All good with me

Aaron: Good. How are the dresses?

Expensive-looking. But pretty

This time, Aaron answers your text with a phone call.

“Yes?” You laugh. “Did your fingers get tired?”

You don’t realize how your question sounds until you hear his reply. “Oh, no. They never do.”

Your eyes widen at the remark and you go quiet, unsure of how to dig yourself out of this one.

His low chuckle vibrates through your ears. “I wanted to hear your voice. That’s all.”

“That’s...sweet,” you murmur. “Are you better now? After hearing it?”

“Mm, much. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

You continue scrolling through dresses, marking a few (there’s a small box next to each one that you can check if it interests you).

After a few moments of idle silence, Aaron speaks again. “I won’t be able to see you again until Friday.”

Your heart shouldn’t have sunk in the way that it did, so you ignore it. “That’s fine. What about the dresses?”

“You’ll have time to try them on before the event,” he assures you. “But I can have them sent to your apartment before then if you’d like.”

The idea of having expensive dresses like that here in the vicinity of Megan makes you shake your head. “No, that’s okay. I’m fine with trying them on this weekend. Meg might steal one if they come here.”

“I’m fine with buying your roommate something nice.”

“Why?”

“As a thank you for writing me so well in the article.”

You snort. “You wrote the answers because I was an idiot.”

“She still wrote me well.”

“Alright, fine,” you breathe, getting cut off by a yawn. “If you insist.”

“What would she like?”

“Anything, honestly,” you chuckle. “You could get her a coffee mug and she’d be happy. Actually, she might like a fancy dinner with Sean instead.”

“Got it,” he says.

“By the way, you’re going to have to choose which dresses I wear.”

You can practically hear his shock through the phone. “Pardon?”

“Because,” you pause, clicking on another, “I have no clue what to wear. There’s so many here, and I don’t know what’ll be right for whatever we’re going to.”

“Okay, I’ll pick them for you,” he replies, sounding a little more excited than you expected.

It makes you grin, but you say nothing else.

+++

In typical you fashion, you wait until Thursday night to begin packing for the weekend in New York.

Megan comes in from dinner with the newspaper crew, finding you in your bedroom, suitcase open on the bed with clothes all over the place.

“Are you moving out or something?” She jokes.

You spin around from the closet, giving her a sheepish smile. “I didn’t know you were back. Uh, no, but, surprise! Aaron and I are going to New York tomorrow.”

“New York?” Megan blurts. “New-fucking-York?”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, tossing a t-shirt on your bed. “He has an event to go to.”

“In New York?”

“Yes,” you nod slowly. “We’re taking his private jet-- Would you stop looking at me like that?”

“I’m not looking at you like anything!” Megan protests with a mischievous grin. “As long as you’re having fun, there’s nothing wrong with it.”

“I didn’t think there was,” you grumble quietly, stuffing some things in the suitcase.

“Nope,” she shakes her head. “This all has sugar daddy energy, just saying.”

You respond by promptly shoving a pillow at her face.

“I better get pictures,” she says after a while, hugging said pillow to her chest. “Do you know what you’re wearing to the...party?”

“Not yet,” you say. “He hasn’t even told me what exactly it’s for. But I told him he’ll have to pick out what dresses I’ll wear because I have no fucking clue what to wear. He made me pick from four hundred dresses. Four hundred!”

“Sounds like heaven to me.”

“Well, trust me, anything I don’t really like, you can have.”

“Hell yeah,” Megan cheers. “Speaking of, Sean told me Aaron is paying for a dinner date for us.”

“Oh, yeah,” you nod. “He wanted to do something to thank you for the article you wrote. He said you wrote him better than he’s ever been, and he wanted to repay you.”

Megan shakes her head with a wistful smile. “Seriously, who is this guy?”

“No idea,” you murmur. “But he’s amazing.”

“He’s incredible,” she agrees. “And you’re still onboard with the...no feelings part?”

You give her a look as you shove a few bras into your suitcase. “Feelings are the least of my worries.”

+++

Friday evening can’t come fast enough, but eventually, it does arrive.

Aaron gets to your apartment around four, which baffles you until he explains that the two of you won’t need to go through any security. Apparently, when you’re flying on a private jet, and when you’re a man like Aaron Hotchner, you can drive right onto the tarmac, right up to the plane. No long lines inside with security and no sprinting across the building to get to the correct gate.

Megan is at the apartment still when Aaron arrives to pick you up.

“Behave,” you hiss at her as you walk to the door. All she does is hold her hands up in surrender, but you know her well enough to know she won’t stop.

You open the door, greeting Aaron with a smile that he mirrors. “Hey.” He’s in a suit sans the tie, per usual, but this one is a navy blue instead of his usual black.

“Hi,” he replies. “Ready for New York?”

You grimace a little. You’ve never really flown anywhere and that thought has been idly in the back of your mind, but you haven’t let it get the best of you.

Motioning for him to come inside, you give Megan another slight look. Aaron steps inside, unbuttoning his blazer before stuffing his hand in his front pocket of his pants.

“Thanks for dinner last night!” Megan calls out from the couch. “Sean and I really appreciate it.”

Aaron nods. “Thank you, it was well deserved.”

While they’re sharing some small talk, you grab your suitcase and purse from your bedroom, rolling it out before Megan can ask any weird questions.

“I’m all set,” you announce, letting Aaron take the suitcase from you without hesitation, knowing he’d insist.

“Have fun, use protection, all that jazz.”

You turn around to give Megan the biggest glare. “We are leaving. See you later.”

“Later,” Megan sings, chuckling mischievously.

You grab Aaron’s free hand and tug him out the door and away from Megan. You should’ve known that she’d still try (and succeed) in embarrassing you.

“I’m sorry about her,” you say as you turn for the stairs. “I told her to behave--”

“It’s alright,” Aaron replies. “I’ve had worse said to me in interviews.”

“Right,” you nod.

Once hitting the ground floor and exiting the building, you see Aaron’s car waiting where it was the first time he came here to pick you up. It’s weirdly nostalgic, despite that being just last week.

“Dave is waiting for us on the plane. Steven took the weekend off, so he won’t be joining us.” Aaron pauses to put your suitcase in the trunk of the car. “I packed your dresses in a separate suitcase, it’s already on the jet.”

You move to open the passenger door and Aaron all but smacks your hand away. In reality, he grabs your hand and presses it into your chest, shaking his head sternly.

You’re embarrassed to say it makes heat flood your body.

Aaron drives with one hand on the wheel, another on the gear shift in the middle. Midway through a conversation, you place your hand on his arm, and a moment later, his hand finds its way to your thigh.

You bite back a grin, putting your hand over his.

+++

Even private jets are a lot bigger in person than you originally thought. It makes Aaron’s car look tiny, thus making you feel miniscule.

“Are you serious?” You ask Aaron while he’s parking on the tarmac. “This is yours?”

“Technically the company’s,” he says. “But I own that too, so.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course.”

You reach for the door, freezing when you feel his hand back on your thigh, squeezing this time to get your attention.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, little girl.”

You blink. “Okay.”

He narrows his eyes. “You know that’s not the correct response.”

Licking your lips, you nod. “Yes, sir.”

His thumb gently smooths over the skin of your inner thigh. “Good girl.” He leans over, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll get your door. Stay right here.”

You don’t dare move a single muscle, but you don’t think you could’ve even if you tried. He knows exactly how to stun you and he does it well.

As promised, he opens your door for you and extends his hand for you to take, which you do. A few people are standing on the tarmac next to the stairs for the jet, one of which you recognize as Dave.

Aaron intertwines your fingers with his as he tugs you toward the jet. “They’ll get our things,” he explains quietly as you walk. “Dave,” he greets the man with a smile. “Ready for another trip?”

“As long as you are,” Dave says. “Are you ready, Miss L/N?”

“I’ve never been to New York, so yeah,” you chuckle, squeezing Aaron’s hand out of excitement.

“This is Captain Foster, a good friend and even better pilot,” Aaron introduces the other man with a professional nod. “He’s been my pilot for almost every flight.”

“Except the ones he schedules on my vacations,” the Captain jokes. He’s an older man, which tells you he absolutely will not give up his vacation time for anyone -- even Aaron. “It’s very nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“Thank you, you too, Captain,” you return the courtesy, despite the endless weird feeling from being called ma’am. At least he isn’t trying to address you as ‘my lady’ like Steve.

“We’re all ready for boarding,” the Captain says to Aaron. “Traffic is light and the weather is perfect from here to New York, so it should be a peaceful trip.”

“Thank you,” Aaron says kindly. Then, looking over at you, he says, “Ready?”

You aren’t sure what you expected when you boarded the jet. You knew to expect a level of luxury because you’ve learned in your short time with Aaron to expect nothing less from him. But this is…

“This is insane,” you blurt. “Is that a bed?”

“It is,” Aaron says from beside you. “I like to sleep sometimes on flights like these, especially since we’ll be arriving late. It’s only for cruising altitudes, of course. You still have to be seated and buckled during take off and landing.”

Duh, you think, but still, a bed?

“I’ll be sitting up front with Captain Foster,” Dave says from behind you, causing you to turn your head. “It’s been a while since I’ve played co-pilot.”

“As long as you don’t touch anything, you’re more than welcome,” the Captain says before looking at Aaron. “I’ll do one more look over, and then I’ll be over the speaker to let you know to strap in.”

On that note, Dave and the Captain disappear into the cockpit, leaving you and Aaron in the main body of the jet. You’re still staring with wide eyes, but you can’t help it.

“There’s also a kitchen at the back, as well as a restroom,” Aaron points in the correct direction. “I don’t usually bring a crew with me on these flights. I like to be left alone most of the time.”

“I wouldn’t want to share this space with anyone either,” you say. “When did you get this?”

He thinks for a moment. “A few years ago. This is the third jet we’ve bought, actually. The other two are used for short flights only as they’re on their way to retiring.”

“So you really do fly like...a lot.”

“Some months I’m in the air more than I’m on the ground.”

“Damn.”

Aaron lets you wander around the jet a moment longer, watching you as your fingers trail along the leather seats. Before long, though, Captain Foster’s voice is echoing through the speakers, letting you both know it’s time to buckle yourselves in for take off.

You take the seat next to Aaron and buckle in, grabbing his hand and placing it back on your thigh, grinning when he raises his eyebrows at you.

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