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luveline · 2 days

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Eddie and Roan —Roan’s having a hard time adapting to the new babysitter. stepmom!reader, 1.4k

Eddie’s car is parked poorly on the driveway, but it’s there, and it’s nice to see after a long day. You park snugly behind him, pull your purse onto your shoulder, and rush out of your car, up the steps to the house.

You open the heavy front door.

“Roan?” you ask, greeted by the smell of Eddie’s tomato pasta and fresh bleach. “Eddie, did you mop?”

“Sasha mopped,” Eddie corrects from the top of the stairs. “She’s up here.”

“Sasha?”

“Roan.” He smiles at you. “Sasha is long gone home, baby. And if I were you I wouldn’t say her name. It hasn’t got me super far.”

You wince, hanging your purse and coat over the bannister and shucking off your shoes, aching feet a little less painful on the carpet of the stairs. Eddie waits for you on the landing, and he kisses you when you’re close enough, to your fear.

“I’m gonna fall.”

“No,” he says, encouraging you against him with a forearm to the small of your back. “Like I’d let you.”

“Is it really bad?”

“She went into a full blown nuclear meltdown. I don’t think Sasha will be back any time soon, she looked shell-shocked,” Eddie says.

His eyes flare wide and his lips pucker, but he looks less worried and more entertained. He knows Roan is gonna be fine eventually. She has a case of the crankies because nobody will let her have her way (but you would if you could).

“She definitely wants to see me?”

“I think you’re the only person she wants to see. She kept pushing me off of the bed.”

“Oh.” You kiss his cheek. He smiles like he did the very first time you kissed him, surprised and elated to be liked, which is a tad silly —you love him. “Hello. Dinner smells nice.”

“It does, doesn’t it? I’m gonna go make some garlic bread if you don’t need me.”

You hold his arm. It’s strange to be in love sometimes. You coparent his occasionally angry child. He makes you dinner every single night. There’s barely time to say hello, but you say it because saying hi to him is always, always fun.

Eddie gives you a quick hug. “I’m downstairs if you want me,” he promises.

You ease around one another. He goes down the stairs too quickly, you knock gently against ‘Princess Roan’s’ door. The placard is missing a few gems, but it’s still sparkly.

There’s no answer.

“Hello?” you ask, knocking the door again. “Baby, I’m coming in to see you.”

“…Okay.”

You smile at the sound of her voice. You’ve missed her, even though it hasn’t been that long. It’s better to see her, opening her door, finding her all curled up on her bed. She’s mostly guilty, you’d say, but still annoyed at the situation.

“Hey, angel,” you say, pausing against her doorway.

“Hi, mom.”

You grin. “Dad told me what happened.” She tenses, expecting a telling off, but Eddie has that covered. She can’t treat people the way she did, pushing poor Sasha and screaming at her to go away isn’t fair, but she had her reasons. Neither you nor Eddie plan to ignore them. “You okay?”

“Fine.”

“What can I do to make you feel better than fine?” you ask.

“Let me come to work with you.”

“I told you already, Ro. You can only come with me for emergencies. They’re very grumpy at work.”

She glares and curls tighter into her ball. She’s small, less than a third your size but with feelings that would threaten to tip you over. Her dress is creased to death and her face is covered in tears.

“Wanna get dressed for bed?” you ask.

Roan sighs tiredly. “No.”

“Just let me wash your face then, princess. Tears make your eyes sore after a while.”

“Can you hug me?” Roan asks shyly.

You cross the room. She slides across her bed to make more room for you than you need, but you love how big she seems to think you are, in a way. Like she sees you as much older, maybe more protective, or that’s what you’d like to think. You lay down in her bed, and you move your arm from your side to let her know the hug factor is ready for business.

She lays her head on your shoulder.

“It’s hard missing you,” you say.

It’s hard missing both of them. You feel like a lot of your life is totally wasted at work when you could be talking yourself hoarse with Eddie, Roan between you both or on someone’s lap. You’d rest your face on his arm and watch his lips make each word. You could do it forever, but the world doesn’t let you. His stories and jokes have to wait until the weekend.

“It is?” Roan asks quietly.

“It’s so hard. I miss you all the time.”

“I miss you too,” Roan says.

“I know.” Her bed is crazy comfortable. You stretch out and turn your face down to hers, back twinging, content to stay her with her forever. “Can I give you a little kiss?”

She laughs and turns her cheek to you for kissing.

“It’s been a long time since I asked you that, huh?” you say, pressing three light kisses in the same place.

“You aks me sometimes.”

“You never ask me!” you tease in a shouting-whisper. “You just plant them on me!”

“You like kisses.”

“I love ‘em. You and dad give the best kisses I ever had.”

She smiles, but it slowly turns into a frown. “I don’t like being home with Sasha.”

“It’s summertime, bug. Me and dad have to work, Wayne has to work. We can’t find any other way.”

“Sasha doesn’t… She’s not… Ugh.” Roan rubs her sad face into your chest.

“Sasha’s still a stranger, baby, that’s all it is. I know she seems a bit weird right now, but that’s, like, how meeting new people goes!” You hug her to you loosely. “You remember when you met me?”

“You liked me on the first day,” Roan says.

“Of course I did.”

“Sasha doesn’t like me.”

“Sasha thinks you’re awesome. But when I first met you, Ro, you were littler, and you liked to cuddle more. It was easier for me and you. Plus, I think things for me and you are much more special.”

“She doesn’t like me anymore.”

You coo sympathetically. “No way. I think if you say sorry, and maybe me and dad can explain, Sasha won’t mind.”

“I just wanted you,” she says.

“I know. It’s okay if we miss each other, because we always get to see each other before dinner.”

“Is dad still mad at me?”

You sit up to look down at her, stroking the dark baby curls away from her face, smiling as they spring back into place. “Nah. But maybe he deserves an apology like Sasha. He said you gave him a couple of pushes too.”

“He was trying to give me a hug and I was still mad,” she complains.

“That’s okay. I guess dad’s not the kind to hold a grudge anyways.”

Eddie absolutely holds grudges. He has one-sided beef with half the town and mutual beef with the other half, but he doesn’t hold one with Roan. You wipe the tear stains from her cheeks with a warm cloth and get her changed into clean pyjamas, holding her hand the whole time at her insistence, which makes doing her buttons up hard.

“Why can’t uncle Steve have me?” Roan asks as you carry her downstairs.

“Because he has a job, too.” You put her down at the bottom of the stairs. “Most grown ups do.”

“And you can’t have summer vacation?”

“I wish, baby. I wish.”

Roan walks ahead of you into the kitchen, where Eddie’s setting the table, pasta and garlic bread and a big tossed salad waiting. Roan’s place has been set especially for her, with her glass of water, her glass of juice, her favourite fork, and the big purple cushion on her seat.

“Feeling better?” Eddie asks her, bending at the waist when she holds up her arms.

He gives her a soft hug, patting her back between lazy up and downs.

“Sorry, daddy.”

“That’s okay,” he says genuinely, “I know summer is hard. Maybe I can get some more days off soon.”

That sounds like a good idea.

“Please,” Roan says.

Eddie coils one of her curls around his finger. “I’ll see what I can do. And you’re going to be nicer to Sasha?”

“Yes. Sorry.”

Eddie tips her head back to kiss her nose. “I don’t want you to be sorry, I just want you to be kind.”

“‘Cos kind is the new cool,” Roan says.

“Yes!” He drags her up his chest to squeeze her tightly. “And we’re the coolest cats in town.”

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withleeknow · 3 days

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genre/warnings: friends with benefits au. pwp. smut right under the cut. minors dni.

note: yeah i don't even remember what i thought about yesterday that made me do this. i was possessed. i always wanna set myself on fire after i post smut bye don't perceive me

main masterlist / blurb masterlist / ko-fi

hyunjin, who knows exactly how to make you feel better after a long and tiring day. you'd called him right as you clocked out at work, not having even left the office building when you were dialing his number impatiently, demanding asking him to meet you at your place in thirty minutes.

hyunjin, who's already standing by your front door with a cocky smile you arrive home. but you're too strung out today to indulge in pleasantries with him. you both know what you're not here to exchange small talk. sometimes, he calls you to help him deal with his stress and frustrations. today, it's you who's in need of his assistance.

hyunjin, who's got you pressed against the wall about half a minute after you unlock the door and usher the both of you inside. "want me to make you forget?" he tilts his head, a shadow of a smirk in his voice and yet, there's something so gentle in the way he asks for your confirmation.

hyunjin, who drops to his knees the second you give him the green light, glancing up at you with mischievous eyes before he gets to work. your pants are off in no time, though he opts to leave your panties on as he nudges his nose against the fabric, flicks his tongue over the wet patch on the cotton where he knows your clit is.

hyunjin, who gives you your first orgasm of the night just like that, licking you through the layer separating you and him, making you cream your panties in mere minutes while you try to hold yourself up against the wall, your fingers weaved through his hair to push his face closer to your core.

hyunjin, who discards your soaked underwear soon after, spreading your legs further open and diving in until his tongue makes direct contact with you, trailing his way from your entrance to your clit, cleaning you up just to make you messy again.

hyunjin, whose skilled fingers join the fun, slipping inside of you with ease while his tongue never relents. he relishes in every sound you make, every whimper and broken moan, the way your thighs shake around his head and the clench of your velvety walls around his digits when he hits your sweet spot.

hyunjin, who's practically an expert on everything you like. he knows every button to push, knows how to curl his fingers to get you to make a very particular sound that he likes. knows how to bring you to the edge and reel you back in and repeats the process a few times so the pleasure would be amplified tenfold for when you do come again. that's how he gets you to gush once, twice more for him, with his name tumbling out of your mouth like a fallen prayer.

hyunjin, who licks his fingers clean afterward, then rises to his feet and kisses you deeply with you still smeared all over his lips and coated on his tongue.

hyunjin, who carries you to your room like a proper gentleman, laying you gently on the bed as if he hadn't just given you three earth-shattering orgasms with his mouth and fingers alone.

hyunjin, who removes the rest of your clothes before he strips himself naked. you keep your legs open as you watch him eye you with lust-blown pupils, his hand wrapping around his hardened length. he stares at your core that's still glistening with your earlier release, biting his lip and slowly pumping his cock until it's heavy as a fucking rock and leaking at the tip.

hyunjin, who makes your eyes roll back in pure bliss when he pushes inside of you, bottoms out and immediately sets a steady pace. he knows you can take it and he knows you need it, so he rocks into you as hard as you beg him to, hard enough that the only coherent thing coming out of your mouth is hyune, hyune, hyune..., his name repeated on your lips like you're a broken record.

hyunjin, who holds off his own release just to make sure you get there first. he sucks on your nipples and flicks your clit just the way you like, all the while still thrusting into you until he feels you clench around his cock, your breathing becoming more and more ragged by the second, until your orgasm crests and you're crying out, your walls convulsing around him as your body shakes underneath him.

hyunjin, who fucks you through your high and then some. when you whine from the overstimulation, he pulls out and shuffles up the bed, moving over your form until his tip is pressed against your lip. "open," he says, and you do exactly that, albeit a little lazily after being fucked to heaven and back again. he slides further into the warmth of your mouth before his hips starting thrusting shallowly.

hyunjin, who throws his head back in utter euphoria as you suck him off. it doesn't take long before he's coming undone, shooting ropes of warm cum right down your throat, and you happily swallow all of it despite the way your eyes brim with tears upon reflex.

hyunjin, who collapses next to you on the bed after you've milked him for all that he's worth. when you turn to him, wearing a fucked-out smile and thanking him for tonight, he only rolls closer and throws an arm over your waist, "glad to be of service."

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #hyunjin smut #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin x you #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x you #stray kids #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #blurbs

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moonstruckme · 20 hours

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can i request a doctor!remus fic where maybe reader comes into the er and is very panicked by doctors and hospitals and they call remus in to help because he’s like known for putting people at ease….this may or may not be based on when i freaked out over a needle and they had to bring in a special doctor :l please and thank you and i’m obsessed with your fics <3

Thank you sweetness <3

cw: hospital, needle

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Your heart is in your throat. It’s pounding so hard you can feel its beating in your teeth, and no matter how you try you cannot get tears to stop leaking from your eyes.

“Wait,” you say again, the word a wobbly, tight-voiced mantra. You keep thinking that if you can just calm yourself enough to seem credible, you can reason with these people. Convince them that you’re actually fine, so there’s no need to touch you, or poke you, or try to move your already agonizing shoulder.

There are already three people in your tiny curtained-off room with you, so when the curtain pulls back and a fourth enters, you angle your hurt shoulder away from him unconsciously.

“Hello,” the new doctor says. His voice is low and velveteen smooth, cutting through the thrumming panic in your brain like a warm knife through butter. The other doctor and the nurses who have been trying to pacify you fall quiet, seemingly relieved this other man is here. He glances quickly at a clipboard. “Y/n? I’m Remus.”

“Hi.” You feel pathetic and a bit wild, tears still trudging down your face as you try to keep an eye on everyone in the room, especially the nurse with the needle. They’ve promised you several times now that they’re not going to do anything until you agree, and it’s not that you don’t trust that but you’re wary of anything happening without your notice.

Remus walks over to you as though this scene is completely normal for him. He takes a seat on the edge of your bed and sets the clipboard down.

“Are you alright?” he asks, looking as though he’d really like to know. His expression is kind and concerned.

You give a little laugh, using your good hand to wipe under your eyes. It comes out sounding pitchy and stilted. “I’ve been better,” you admit. Remus’ lips curve in a small, sad smile. “I just, I’d really rather not be here.”

“That’s understandable,” he replies patiently. He seems the least urgent of anyone you’ve interacted with since you’ve been here, and there’s a tranquility about him that’s contagious. You feel your tears slowing. “This isn’t really somewhere people end up when their day is going according to plan. What is it that’s making you nervous, sweetheart?”

All of it, you want to say. The doctors and the nurses and the machines and the hair-raising sound of a baby crying a few rooms over. You hate hospitals and you always have. The idea of needing to be in more pain to relieve the one you’re already experiencing makes you feel like you’re trying to breathe through a straw.

“I don’t like needles,” you say. Understatement of the year.

Remus nods, seeming to mull this over. “Well, you have a dislocated shoulder,” he says, mouth pinching sympathetically. “The only way to fix that is to put the joint back into its proper place. It’s not the sort of thing that takes care of itself.” As he talks, his hand moves to rest on top of yours, forefinger stroking a slow back-and-forth across the back of your hand. “It can be fairly painful,” he tells you, “and if you move you could make things a lot harder for yourself. So, we’re going to give you medicine to help you calm down and alleviate the pain.”

In his steady, dulcet voice, the thing that’s been explained to you twice over already sounds a lot more sensible. His thumb works over your hand, light brown eyes gently coaxing.

“The good thing about this procedure is, both parts are done with fairly quickly. And if you’d like me to, I can hold you while Dr. Michaels works, if that’ll help you at all.”

The other three people in the room are moving again, somewhat slowly, but Remus doesn’t seem to notice. He holds your gaze.

“Yes, please,” you say tightly. You know it’s an acquiescence. Even as you say it more tears are blurring your vision.

“Alright, it’s alright.” Remus wastes no time in moving to your side, his hip pressed to yours while he wraps one arm around your middle and uses the other to turn your face into his shoulder. “You’re fine, sweetheart.”

You feel childish and embarrassed, wetting his scrubs with your tears, but he only sweeps his thumb over your ribs, shushing you compassionately.

“We’re going to give you the medicine now, try to stay relaxed.”

You tense when you feel the cold wipe, and a quiet whimper slips past your lips at the bite of the needle.

Remus’ hand tightens on your head. “You’re okay,” he murmurs. The needle slips out.

“Breathe,” Remus instructs. You hadn’t realized you’d stopped. You let out a tremulous exhale, and he brushes some hairs away from your face, your forehead still resting on his shoulder. “That was good,” he assures you. “You’re halfway done now.”

“Thank you,” you say, more than a little humiliated as you swipe the wetness from your cheeks, sniffling.

Remus offers a small smile. It’s absurd how much it relaxes you. “Don’t mention it.” He looks to the other doctor. “How do you want her for this next part?”

“Lying down, please.”

He turns back to you. “Okay? You want help?”

Your good hand has gone back to holding your shoulder, so he uses a hand on your back to help ease you horizontal on the bed. Once you’re settled he coaxes your hand away, taking it in his own. His skin is warm and scarred in some places, cruel lines that feel like a violation to touch. He doesn’t seem to mind.

Remus gets you talking, about the fall that landed you in here, your day before that, your life in general. His responses are understanding and amused at times, seemingly genuinely invested in what you have to say. As you speak his thumb is moving over the side of your hand, down to your wrist and back again, slow and hypnotic. A few minutes later, your eyelids and limbs are heavy, the movement of Remus’ thumb the center of your focus as he tells you about one of the many scrapes his ostensibly reckless friends have gotten into over the years.

“Seems like it’s working,” he says with a little smile. You blink, not having realized he’d finished his story. “How do you feel, love?”

“Sleepy.” Your voice sounds stretched and lazy. “My arm still sorta hurts, though.”

Remus makes a sympathetic tsking sound. “Unfortunately, we can’t make all the pain go away, but it will be a lot easier than it would have otherwise.” He trades hands, taking your hand in his other one and using the first to make sure your face is angled towards him. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right here with you.”

Somehow, that makes everything seem a lot more manageable.

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slytherinshua · 2 days

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2AM CRISIS

genre. comfort. sickfic. warnings. reader is sick specifically throwing up so don't read if you find that rly gross... some comments abt it being reader's first time sleeping over and the hyungs being extremely cautious lmfao. not proofread. pairing. yujin x fem!reader. wc. 1k. request. requested by @theriizeler a/n. i hope this makes u feel better dodo :(( first time writing yujin i hope i did okay he's rly such a sweetheart :( ppl need to write more for him cause i get not writing for him cause of his age but he's always skipped over...

“Ew…” Yujin mumbled, crouched on the floor of the bathroom with you as you heaved again. For this being your first time sleeping over (with extremely watchful eyes from Hao and Hanbin), it definitely was not going as planned. You had felt something was wrong the entire day, but your boyfriend Yujin was so excited to spend the night with you that you didn’t have the heart to cancel on him.

You should have trusted your gut, though, because now you were throwing up in the toilet in painful gags, your throat burning and a disgusting acidic aftertaste left in your mouth. Was it something you had eaten? Or maybe you had caught a stomach bug at school… You envied your boyfriend for evading it, though you guess it made sense. He rarely attended because of his schedule.

“Stay right there.” Yujin whispered, getting up and leaving the bathroom to find some water for you.

He didn’t have much experience taking care of someone since he was usually the one always being pampered and babied. He tried his best to recall what his mom and Hao had done when he had gotten sick, but the memory was foggy as he had mostly just slept until he felt better. They did force him to take some horrible-tasting medicine, though… God, did he have to persuade you to do that as well? He’d rather just die than possibly give you an excuse to despise him.

Once he was back with a bottle of water, he handed it to you and sat back down on the floor of the bathroom. It was almost 2 am by now, and he wasn’t exactly sure what to do. He could see tears prickling at your lashes, and his absolute worst fear in the world was seeing you cry. He had no idea how he’d make the tears stop once they started.

You swished your mouth with the water and spat again into the toilet before taking a proper drink. The cool water soothed your burning throat, but it didn’t ease all the discomfort. You still felt like shit, and your stomach still hurt. Your head was also pounding, but it wasn’t as bad as the nausea.

You turned back to Yujin who’s eyes were blown big and confused, though you could tell he was worried about you. His under eyes looked tired and you suddenly felt really bad for waking him up to go puke in his bathroom. If you had been able to get up without disturbing him, then you would have. But he had fallen asleep clinging to you like a koala, and there was no way to escape his grasp without waking him up.

“I’m sorry… you should just go back to sleep.” You muttered, but Yujin was quick to shake his head.

“I can’t just leave you throwing up by yourself… I’ll stay until you’re ready to go back to bed.” He told you, stroking your hair gently. You tried to breathe steadily in hopes of stopping the urge to throw up again, but it didn’t work. You quickly pushed Yujin’s hand away from your face and discarded more of yesterday’s meal into the bowl. Both you and Yujin grimaced in sync, and he hesitantly pulled back your hair and stroked your back.

The tears that you had tried to keep at bay finally started to stream down your face. You hated everything about the situation. You felt awful, not just physically, but for ruining your first sleepover with Yujin like this. No one wanted to be sitting next to their girlfriend who couldn’t stop vomiting at 2 am.

“Don’t cry— please, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Yujin panicked. The only thing he could think of doing was offering you more water, which you took amidst broken sobs. He wrapped his arms around you hesitantly, knowing that he always calmed down in your arms. Maybe it would help you, as well. Your sobs slowed a bit, in turn slowly down Yujin’s anxiously beating heart.

“Hey, what if I just get you a bowl? You can keep it by the bed and then you won’t have to stay here on the floor, hm? We can cuddle too… if you want?” You would’ve smiled at how cute Yujin’s suggestion was if you weren’t too focused on calming yourself down. You knew he was trying his best, and while he was a bit slow on ways to help (you were pretty sure there were some pills to help with nausea that Hanbin had bought last time Gyuvin had felt nauseous during a shoot, but you were certain that your boyfriend had no idea where they were stored), his presence alone was enough to make things a little better.

“Yeah… let’s just do that.” You agreed, standing up slowly. You flushed the toilet and rinsed your mouth once more with water. While Yujin was getting a metal bowl for you, you brushed your teeth, relieved that your mouth no longer had the awful aftertaste of stomach acid.

Once you were back under the blankets on the mattresses that the older members had set up on the floor of the living room (which was almost too overkill as neither you nor Yujin would even think to attempt anything like that, protesting Hao’s carefully thought of set-up would’ve seemed even more suspicious), you felt your stomach ease a bit.

You curled up against Yujin’s chest, wanting nothing more than to be as close as possible to him. The soap and shampoo scents from his earlier shower lingered on his skin, and you were surprised at how effective it was in stopping your nausea and relaxing you. Your head was still pounding, but you’d take the pain over feeling sick. Maybe you would even be able to get some sleep again like this.

Your boyfriend kissed your forehead and started talking softly, trying to get you to fall asleep to the lull of his voice. It was extremely effective and you found yourself dozing off within minutes. You smiled when the last thing you heard Yujin say was a whispered “feel better soon, princess.”

↳ zerobaseone taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @okshu,, @chewryy,, @haecien,, @sobun1est,,

@emmylksblog,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @chenleszone

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l-levisworld · 2 days

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WE CAN'T, YOU'RE SICK

FT: Modern!Eren and normal aot timeline!Levi

CW: Fingering, lap bouncing, kinda crybaby!reader for Eren, kinda bratty!reader for Levi, Mocking, Pet names like: “baby”, “wife”, “brat” and “angel”

A/N: I had to rewrite this whole ass thing because Tumblr deleted the first post randomly! I actually despise the way I have rewritten Levi's part.

EREN YEAGER

Eren never enjoyed getting sick. The feeling of a cold or flu was something he despised. The weakness and feeling of not being able to function at his best was horrible.

Yet, for you, he'd endure every disease in the world just to ensure your health and happiness. Unfortunately, he couldn't help you right now.

You were incredibly sick, coughing and sneezing the whole time. Your nose was red and runny, your eyes watery. Despite your condition, you had clung to Eren all day, begging him to fuck you. You may have been sick, but you were also incredibly horny.

What was shocking you the most was how long Eren was denying you. Since the morning he had been pushing you and your demands away lightly. Eren was never one who could go against your charm. You were his baby, his everything, and seeing him deny you was both confusing and frustrating.

When you clung to his chest, nuzzling into him as soon as you were alone in the bedroom, Eren felt overwhelmed. He tried coaxing you into bed, his voice soft and soothing, but you wouldn't listen. He was even willing to sleep on the couch, leaving the big comfy bed for you while you were so ill and vulnerable.

“baby..cmon. Go to bed. It's late and you're tired.” he sighed, sliding the covers over your cold body before heading to the door. Just as he was about to open it, he heard your sniffling.

He recognized it immediately. This wasn't from your cold or runny nose; you were crying. He turned around and hurried back over to the bed.

Sitting down next to you on the bed, he lifted you onto his sturdy thigh, gently stroking your soft hair. His touch was tender, filled with the love and concern he had for you.

“Hey..shh. Baby please don't cry..I know you don't like getting rejected but, you're sick and you know how much I hate being sick too. I cuddled with you today, and even that was a risk," he explained, his heart aching as your tears continued to fall.

"I—doll, please..shh.." he hushed you, bouncing his lap lightly. His efforts to calm you were genuine, but the sight of your tears broke his heart.

Instead of more sobbing, he was met with a light moan as you nuzzled into his chest. He raised an eyebrow, realizing you enjoyed this. The tension in his body eased slightly as he understood what you needed.

“you want me to continue? is this good?” he asked softly, looking at you intently. The determination in his eyes was clear; he wanted to make you feel better, even if it meant risking his own health. "y-yes..feels good, rennie," you replied meekly, your voice barely a whisper.

He started bouncing his lap more rhythmically while guiding your hips on it. He could see how the pleasure was contorting your beautiful face, your expressions shifting from tension to ecstasy.

"Yeah, that's right, baby. Hold onto me..." he whispered, feeling you grab his biceps.

He moved one hand from your hip to the back of your head, holding you close. Leaning in, he kissed you lightly on your plush, glossy lips before pressing your head to his chest. The rhythm of his heartbeat was a soothing and steady reminder of his deep love for you.

You felt yourself getting closer to the oh-so-sweet release you'd craved all day with the friction his leg provided on your clothed cunt. Eren could feel your body responding to his movements. He noticed your whimpering and continued bouncing you a little faster.

With just a few more thrusts, your pleasure peaked, and you went limp in Eren's arms. The intensity of your release left you breathless, and you clung to him, savoring the closeness. "You done, or want another round?" he asked softly, a light smirk on his face.

“Not another round..'m tired..” you reply quietly, yelping when you feel him pick you up and carry you to your bathroom. You felt comfy in his arms, they always provided you a sense of comfort.

Eren placed you on the bathroom counter and wet a rag under the sink, cleaning you up with gentle, caring motions. Once you were clean, he helped you into a fresh pair of panties. While walking back to the bedroom he noticed that you have fallen asleep in his strong arms so he just sets you down onto your pink, silky bedsheets, covering you with a fluffy blanket.

“Sleep well baby..get some good rest.” he mumbles, kissing you on the forehead. Before he turns the light off.

LEVI ACKERMAN

Just as Eren, Levi didn't like getting sick. For him, it wasn't so much about the discomfort but the fact that Erwin wouldn't let him do any hard training or teach classes in case he really was sick.

Yet, when it came to you, Levi could never turn a blind eye to your suffering. He knew damn well that you got ill easily, and that diseases always took a harder toll on you than on others.

As usual, Levi was awake the whole night, engrossed in a book. But the moment he heard you start to cough and sneeze in your sleep, he immediately got up, moving from his place beside you to a chair positioned a bit further away. He wanted to be close enough to watch over you but far enough to avoid getting sick himself.

Before he sat down, he tilted the squeaky-clean window, hoping the fresh air would carry away any bacteria from your coughing and sneezing before they could infect him. Levi was a bit of a freak about cleanliness and health, and this situation was no different.

He watched you sleep intently, his dark eyes tracking every single movement. When you woke yourself up with a particularly loud sneeze, he couldn't help but scoff. It took a few minutes for the pain of your illness to fully register in your body, and when you finally noticed it you felt both angry and sad.

“Tch, didn't I tell you to wear a scarf when it started snowing yesterday? That's what you get for not listening, isn't that right?” he said in a rather annoyed tone, watching you glare at him through tired eyes.

“Yes,” you huffed out, turning your head away. Even when sick, you didn't fail to give him an attitude, which only made him more annoyed.

“Just drink your tea. It's already cooled down a little,” he snarked, pointing to the cup on the bedside table.

You grabbed the handle of the cup and lifted it to your mouth, taking a few sips. The warmth soothed your throat momentarily, but you put the cup down when you saw Levi walking to the door. Confused, you immediately got up from the bed.

“Hey. What are you doing? Lay back down,” Levi ordered in a strict tone, looking at you with his typical stoic expression.

“You—you can't leave. I still need you here,” you mumbled, blushing a little as you turned your head to the side, feeling vulnerable.

Levi looked at you with heavy confusion. What could you possibly need him for? He had brought you tea, books to read, and even a fluffy blanket. Why were you being so demanding?

He grumbled to himself when suddenly, the switch in his mind flipped. He let out a loud scoff as he realized what you truly meant.

“Hey, can't this wait until you're not sick anymore? Like a few days? You do know your germs can be transmitted if we fuck?”

His blunt language made you blush deeper, but you still crossed your arms, showing him with your body language that you were unhappy and unwilling to compromise.

When Levi saw you act like this, he grumbled again. He was seriously considering storming out of the room. But no, he reminded himself that a good boyfriend wouldn't just leave his partner.

“Ugh, fine. I'll help you with my hands, but no kissing or touching from you with your germ-filled hands or mouth, alright?”

Your ears perked up at his offer, and you immediately nodded. “That's alright,” you mumbled, watching his shoulders untense as you finally compromised.

He walked over to you and gently helped you lie back down on the bed, placing his hand on the small of your back for support. Slowly, he began to remove your nightgown, revealing your bare skin. He positioned himself directly between your legs, his eyes locking onto the wet patch on your panties.

“Tch, so wet already for me?” he mocked, hooking both of his thumbs under the hem of your underwear and pulling them down slowly to tease you.

Your legs trembled slightly when the cold air hit your sore, sensitive cunt. Levi knew he had to do this quickly, but that didn't mean he wouldn't be savouring this moment.

He dipped two fingers down and scooped up some of your slick, holding up his glistening fingers for you to see. “Look, that's how wet you are. And all this even though you're sick.”

“Levi, stop teasing. It's not fair!” you whined, lightly hitting his wrist. Your feeble attempt at reprimand only earned you a light slap to your inner thigh.

“What I don't do for my wife,” he mumbled, watching the way your pussy pulsed with arousal just from that one word. The subtle authority in his voice sent another wave of heat through you.

You weren't Levi's lawful wife, as you both had never gotten married. Yet, Levi never missed a moment to call you by that title. To him, papers and rings were just useless symbols. He could always give you a ring without a special ceremony.

He moved his hand from your inner thigh to your pussy, starting to rub your clit with his thumb while entering two fingers into you. His touch was both gentle and firm, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

You immediately started bucking your hips up, but Levi placed a firm hand on your tummy. “Hold still,” he huffed, not wanting to deal with you moving too much. The weight of his hand on your abdomen was grounding, adding to your sense of being under his control.

His fingers moved skillfully in and out of you, each thrust precise and deliberate. He curled his fingers slightly, brushing against that sweet spot inside you that made your toes curl.

When he heard you let out a loud moan, he knew he had found your sweet spot. “Found it,” he replied with a light smirk that vanished as quickly as it appeared. He focused his movements there, applying just the right amount of pressure to drive you wild.

“T-That feels good, Levi..” you moaned, but Levi didn't respond. He was never one for talking too much during sex. If you wanted it, he would praise you every once in a while, but that didn't happen often.

Your hands moved all over his clothed body. You wanted to scratch at his back because of the pleasure flowing through you but you immediately stopped yourself before you could do anything — you didn't want to destroy his uniform like last time.

You huff and put your arms down on the mattress. You slowly lifted your body, moving your head toward his face to kiss him. Yet, he immediately grabbed your head and pushed you back onto the pillows.

“No kissing. You agreed to that, didn't you, brat?” he whispered, watching you let out dramatic huffs. His hand on your head was firm but not harsh, a reminder of his control over the situation.

The more Levi sped up his movements, the closer you felt to your release. When he suddenly entered a third finger, the pleasure became overwhelming. Your body tensed, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you teetered on the edge.

Before you could let out the guttural moan you needed to release, Levi clamped his hand over your mouth. He continued moving his fingers, his eyes locked onto yours as he pushed you over the edge. The intensity of his gaze made you feel even more vulnerable and cherished.

Your climax hit you hard, waves of pleasure crashing through you as Levi kept his fingers moving, drawing out your orgasm. He watched your face closely, ensuring you were taken care of until you had cooled down from your high.

He removed his sticky fingers from your pussy and got up to get a rag. First, he cleaned your essence off his fingers, then he leaned down to softly wipe the rag over your clit as a form of aftercare. His touch was gentle, soothing the sensitivity left behind by your orgasm.

He watched the way you took short, ragged breaths, your chest moving up and down. He immediately fetched a new pair of underwear and helped you put it on along with your nightgown. His movements were soft and almost too tender.

He then covered you with a blanket and kissed you firmly on the head. “I'll be going now. Stay good, yeah?” he whispered before walking to the door. He cleaned the dust off his uniform before leaving you alone in this vulnerable state.

You were just tired and fell asleep in the comfy bed, hoping the day would end quickly so you and Levi could reunite soon.

#levi ackerman #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot fanfiction #aot manga #attack on titan fanfiction #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman x reader #attack on titan x reader #levi ackerman smut #captain levi #eren yeager #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager smut #attack on titan smut

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wobblesthecowgirl · 16 hours

Note

Hii! I literally love your page so much! If you don’t mind, could you write an Arthur x Fem reader fluff?

So I was thinking, Arthur and the reader are close friends and she has feelings for him, like I mean she is HEAD OVER HEELS for him! But she thinks that he likes Mary-Beth or something and somehow he finds out about her feelings towards him and how she thinks he likes Mary-Beth and he confronts her and is like “I don’t like her I like you” and they kiss or something idk I JUST NEED HIM SO BAD RN😭

I Only Want You.

Arthur Morgan x Femreader

I apologise for the long delay! But thank you so much for your patience and request! I hope you enjoy it! And thank you so much for the love! <3

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“Why not write him a letter?”

Y/n was sitting on a log with Abigail under the sun, looking out to the beautiful scenery before them on the edge of the cliff. They were discussing Arthur, a common topic between the two, and Abigail was trying to convince her friend to finally confess.

“A letter?” She tilted her head.

Abigail nodded, “Yes! I mean, you love to write, and you’re too much of a baby to speak to him about your feelings. I think a letter is perfect. You can leave it for him without seeing his face.”

Y/n thought about it and agreed it wasn’t a bad idea at all. She could sneak into Arthur’s tent with a letter telling him everything she’s always wanted to say, and wait for a response. So, she smiled and hugged her friend tightly, before standing up quickly and making her way to her own tent to begin writing.

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This was harder than she thought. She assumed being able to sit and think carefully about what she wanted to say would be easy, but it just filled her head with more doubts. Before she could start her fourth draft, she heard a ton of horses outside and quickly hid the crumpled up pieces of paper. Most of the men were robbing a wagon and had just come back; from the cheers and laughs, she could only assume it went well. She got up from her chair and peeked her head out of her tent and almost screamed in surprise. Arthur stood right outside her tent.

“Oh! Mr Morgan, you scared me!” She laughed it off, a hand to her chest as he chuckled with her.

“I apologise, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I just wanted to tell you how the robbin’ went.”

“I assume it went well, given the smile on your face.” Y/n smiled as she looked around to the other men already cracking bottles of beer. The pair went quiet and the woman wanted to burst into a confession then and there. The sun was setting and it casted a orange glow to his face. His hat caused a small shadow over his eyes and his smile was small and earnest. The little wrinkles around his eyes and mouth only made him more attractive, and his moustache had been recently trimmed.

“Well, I best get back inside now. I’m a very busy lady.” She excused herself. He smiled a little wider and watched her close the tent, almost disappointed with their short exchange.

After their conversation, Y/n got back to her desk and this time, the words began to spill out onto the page with ease:

Dear Arthur,

Firstly, I must apologise. I am too much of a coward to face you, so I’ve resorted to writing this letter.

The truth is, I have fallen head over heels for you. You may not agree with me, but you are a good and genuine man. You’ve helped me in more ways than you could ever imagine. The day you rescued me from my burning horse from the O’Driscolls, I thought my life was over. But, to my surprise, it was the start of an even better life. I truly can’t thank you enough.

I don’t expect you to reciprocate these feelings, and that is ok. I wouldn’t want to ruin this friendship we have formed.

Yours, Y/n.

She kept re-reading it over and over again while a million what ifs ran through her head. What if he’s put off by the letter? What if he has someone already? What if he laughs at her?

She shook her head. She had written it now, all she had to do was plant it in his tent and hide, wallow away in bed while her anxiety ate her up. She folded it and wrote his name on it before peeking her head out the tent again and tip-toeing to his tent. When she saw he wasn’t inside, she snuck in and placed the letter on his bedside table.

Y/n felt satisfied with herself, until she saw a letter on his desk with the name ‘Mary Linton’. Her stomach dropped. Who was this Mary? Was she a lover? A relative? Feeling sick, she rushed out the tent, leaving her letter behind.

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“You alright there, Y/n?” Tilly asked her while she zoned out. It was now night-time, and her mind was eating her up all evening. The women were sat around the fire doing what they do best: gossiping. Of course, Grimshaw or Molly hadn’t joined them, but that was always the case.

“Hmm? Sorry, yeah I’m good.” She brushed it off, taking a big swing of whiskey. The rest of her friends spared glances at one another. Karen piped up while also taking a swig of her own whiskey, “Yeah, I ain't buying that. You’ve been sulking all evening.”

Y/n sighed and began biting her nails out of habit, wondering if asking them about Arthur was a smart idea. But she couldn’t keep letting the question eat away at her.

“Do any of you know who Mary Linton is?”

Mary-Beth looked surprised at the question, “Mary? You don’t know?”

Her stomach dropped again.

“No I don’t.”

Tilly shook her head, already feeling bad for her friend. Everyone but Arthur knew that Y/n had feelings for the older man, it was a miracle the man himself hadn’t figured it out. Tilly sighed, “She used to be his woman. About ten years ago now, but her daddy didn’t like him so it didn't work out. I keep telling him to let it go.”

There it was. Her what ifs became reality. She couldn’t hide her disappointment and took another swig of the whiskey. And another. Then another one.

“Slow down girl! You’ll end badly!” Tilly tried to grab the bottle out her hand but she moved it out of her reach. By now, Y/n vision was hazy and her head felt light. The smell of whiskey was strong on her breath but she felt a little more relaxed at least.

“It’s obvious Arthur likes you back.” Mary-Beth tried to help her feel better, but all she did in response was roll her eyes.

“Oh please. Don’t get my hopes up.” She pouted as she finished the whiskey off. All the women were getting up and getting ready for bed but she decided to sit by the fire a little longer. Karen patted her back, “Please just take it easy. Get some rest soon.” And with that, she was left alone. She just stared into the fire, her mind restless, when she heard a twig snap. She snapped her head back and saw the root of her problems. He looked confused at her state.

“Y/n? What are you still doing at this hour?”

“Nothing.” She frowned, facing away from him, kicking a stone away despite being sat on the log. Arthur sat down next to her, his knee inches away from hers.

“You smell of whiskey, doll. You been drinking too much to handle?” His voice was laced with concern, which only infuriated her more. Why care for her when he already had a woman he cared for?

“Why do you care?” She sounded harsher than she meant to. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was her patience running thin. Maybe it was her disappointment. Either way, her response still shocked him.

“Why wouldn't I?” He asked, and her heart kept sinking lower and lower. They fell silent, and Y/n heard him reach into his pockets and took out the letter. Her eyes widened as she tried to snatch it out his hands but he raised his arm higher.

“Just leave it Arthur!” She shouted, still trying to grab it as he kept his arm in the air, a firm hand on her shoulder to push her lightly.

“Why are you behaving like this? I just want to talk about it.” He tried to calm her down as she stopped prying at him.

“I know about Mary.” She stated which caused his eyes to widen slightly. He glanced at the letter before folding it and putting it back in his pocket.

“The women gossiping again?” He chuckled a little dry, so she only hummed in response. Their gossips were never wrong though, she thought to herself.

“That's history, love. She was only writing to me to help her brother, but I don't like her like I used to.” Arthur grabbed her chin much to her alarm, and gently turned her to face him, before brushing a strand of hair in her face out the way.

That damn smile.

“I love you too. I ain't need a silly little letter, you could've told me and I would've swept you up in a heartbeat.”

It's like time stopped. The alcohol must've gotten to her head. She must've blacked out. Died even, and seen the pearly gates.

But when he leaned forward, and softly kissed her, she felt more awake than ever. He pulled away before she could even react, and his face was bright red.

“Was that a bad kiss? It looks like it was.” He coughed awkwardly.

“No…no not at all. I'm just in shock. I didn't think you actually liked me.”

He laughed light before leaning closer again, a hand on the back of her head, “I don't like you, sweetheart. I love you.”

This time she kissed back, harder. Months of pent up tension between the two was finally being released. It was surprising the two didn't go mad.

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They spent the rest of the night sitting next to the fire, holding hands, and Y/n rested her head on his chest as he held her close. His tumb traced her knuckles as she listened to his heartbeat. She felt protected, safe, warm, and comfortable. She could happily stay like that forever.

Unknown to the pair, the women of the camp were watching from a distance, with giant grins on their faces.

#rdr2 #rdr2 fandom #rdr2 community #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 arthur #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan

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discretocincel · 2 days

Text

Watch the world keep changing

More fluff for RadioApple Week 2024! Go read it on AO3!

Since I decided to make the stories in the series connected, for today's prompt Deal/Blood I decided to work on the beginning of their relationship! Have some 3+1 thingy where Lucifer is slowly catchinig feelings and Alastor is in deep denial still:

The first time Lucifer saw Alastor bleed was three days before the battle with Heaven.

It was late, Vaggie’s training already officially over, but there were still a couple of cannibals around practicing some moves, familiarizing themselves with the angelic weapons, their weight and length. Lucifer still found it strange, watching so many sinners being friendly with each other, even while sparring. He was used to their everlasting conflict and hostility, to their selfishness and pettiness, not… not this. Part of his punishment supposedly was that he’d never get to see the good of humanity, the benefits of the freedom he granted them, to grow outside of the predetermined lines set in stone for their souls. His daughter had given him the most amazing gift by showing him that sinners were capable of good, in the right context. It made him regret some of the choices he had made in the past, but it also made him hopeful for the future. Which was why he never missed an opportunity to see them train. He wanted to see more of it, of their positive emotions and interactions. And he also wanted to care. He wanted to remember the faces of the ones who would be risking their lives for his daughter’s dream.

So far, Lucifer hadn’t seen Alastor step into the training sessions. He witnessed them, most often from the shadows, and on the few occasions he had something to say, he did it quietly, only addressing Charlie. Lucifer assumed the sinner didn’t want to interact with the volunteers.

Was he wrong?

“You’re being far too predictable, my dear,” he said, sporting a tamer variation of his smile, as if to not give a wrong impression. He didn’t sound like the arrogant, mocking bastard that would criticize Lucifer’s eating habits. It was almost like he wanted to be helpful. Genuinely.

“How can I not be predictable and still react fast? I’m not thinking much before moving because you’re too fast! I’ll die before I’m able to surprise you!”

The only two people still on the training grounds, apart from Lucifer, who was watching from the roof, were Alastor and a younger sinner. Lucifer didn’t know his name, but he had seen him around the cannibal overlord more than once. He was short, always wore a different hat, and he seemed to favor the color green, but apart from that, he was hardly remarkable.

Until then, of course. It was the first time Lucifer saw the Radio Demon personally instruct anyone in a fight, and they had been preparing the cannibals for nearly a month. That made him a little bit special. Only a little.

The spar was fun to watch. Alastor didn’t use one weapon, but two—he brandished a dagger in two tentacles, while he kept his hands clasped behind his back, like an asshole. He had to admit that it looked cool, but only to himself. The sinner didn’t need the ego boost. He jumped around the younger cannibal like a choreographed dance routine, with ease, making it look easy, without breaking a sweat. He was reading his partner like a traffic sign, maybe even better, but then the impossible happened.

The young cannibal tripped. He managed to get his feet under himself, but he stabbed the Radio Demon’s bicep in the process.

Lucifer’s eyes widened, and he prepared to take flight, imagining he would need to stop the Radio Demon from eating the poor bastard. What a miserable time to get lucky, he thought. The guy clearly wasn’t the most experienced fighter, and if the polearm he was using wasn’t one of angelic steel, then his hit probably wouldn’t have even scratched the skin. But it did. It probably wasn’t a very deep cut, but the Radio Demon’s coat was soaked in blood, even if the color did a good job of covering it.

Before he unfolded his wings, however, he decided to wait around a little bit and observe, since the Radio Demon hadn’t yet grown in size and the air hadn’t thickened with any green mist.

Against all odds, the Radio Demon didn’t eat the guy. His smile seemed a little more genuine, and when he went closer to the cannibal, he did it with a spring on his step.

“That was better!” he said cheerfully, patting the sinner’s shoulder with his microphone. “Now let’s try again, to make sure you didn’t just get lucky.”

The younger sinner groaned, knowing just as well as Lucifer and Alastor that he wouldn’t be able to replicate it. But he still got in position, and while he seemed even more nervous than before, his stance was slightly firmer, wider. His hold on the polearm was better, too.

Lucifer manifested a candy bar from the kitchen and got more comfortable on the roof, deciding that he would stay and watch a little longer. The Radio Demon was fun to watch when his witty remarks weren’t directed at himself, after all. And the way he moved, even for a mock battle, was graceful and elegant, like ballroom dancing, almost, with his long limbs, thin waste, and remarkable flexibility.

And if he noticed how he would sometimes delay his responses a fraction of a second to give the sinner a chance to scratch him one or twice, boosting his confidence without risking him getting too cocky, then that would remain a secret until the next time the Radio Demon pissed him off.

Or maybe not. It was too valuable information to give it away pettily at the first opportunity. Lucifer was smarter than that. Besides, Charlie could hear and consider it proof that her hotelier had a heart, which was simply ridiculous.

Lucifer knew better than that. No, he would keep that little detail to himself in the foreseeable future, stored away in a corner best left untouched, just like the fleeting thought of how attractive the sinner looked when slightly roughed up.

The second time Lucifer saw Alastor bleeding was a couple of days after the extermination, when by all means, he shouldn’t have been bleeding anymore. But his wound, which he hadn’t been told about, charged with angelic power as it was, wouldn’t close without angelic intervention, no matter how tight his stitches were. Good thing the sinner lived under the same roof as one of the most powerful angels ever created, right? Because the Radio Demon wasn’t an idiot, eventually he would have pushed aside his pride in favor of self-preservation, and he would have approached Lucifer on his own to ask for his help.

Right?

“You should’ve told Charlie, at least,” Lucifer mumbled, while he worked on the necrotic wound in the privacy of the Radio Demon’s room. “She would’ve told me.”

“Precisely,” Alastor replied curtly. “Besides…” He took a deeper breath, hands shaking slightly, but he remained remarkably still considering the pain he must’ve been feeling.

Durable motherfucker, truly. Lucifer was impressed. But that was another secret he was taking to the grave.

“She already has enough on her plate. It wouldn’t do for her to have even more worries and bad memories.”

“I agree, which is why you should’ve sought help so you wouldn’t add your death to her bad memories.”

The sinner didn’t dignify that with an answer, choosing to subtly turn his head away instead. Even with his neck twisted at an awkward angle, he couldn’t add much distance between them, lying on his back as he was, with Lucifer sitting by his side, both hands extended over the sinner’s bare chest. He had already cleaned the wound more than once, but the bottom half, near his hip, kept bleeding while he worked on the section of his shoulder, focusing on the damage done to his heart.

Now he could no longer tell Charlie that Alastor didn’t have a heart. He had seen it. It was a frail little thing, fickle, overworked, and scarred. The kind one could easily feel protective over.

A part of Lucifer, the one that kept going over the faraway corner where he stored the details about the Radio Demon away, wondered if he wasn’t already feeling protective of it, seeing as he had ambushed the sinner after dinner to treat the wound he only knew was there because he could smell it.

“Just don’t die on her, Alastor. She cares for you.”

“I’m not planning on dying any time soon, Your Majesty. However, if you’re interested in a deal…”

“Not in this life or the next one,” Lucifer cut him off quickly, grateful for the reminder of the kind of person the sinner he was healing truly was. Overlords didn’t need protecting. The rest of Hell needed protecting from them.

Alastor sighed dramatically, the little shit, but then his expression morphed into one Lucifer hadn’t yet seen on him; his smile was still there, barely, but it was crooked, and his eyes were half-lidded.

“I may have… procrastinated on fixing this particular issue. Your assistance is… appreciated. Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Right. His assistance was appreciated, because it had been needed, and the sinner knew it. He had simply hesitated to ask for it, for some reason. But he would have done it, eventually. He should have done it, anyway. And the reason he hadn’t was probably his pride, because he was a sinner, an arrogant, overconfident, sadistic bastard—

—and he had a fickle, scarred heart. Lucifer swallowed down the lump in his throat, then shook his head slowly.

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” he muttered.

“Nonsense. You had no obligation to help me, and yet… here you are.”

“Here I am,” Lucifer confirmed absentmindedly, trying to focus on what his hands were doing as he was finally passing on to the sternum, checking for any bruising on the bones. While he did that, one of his hands slid down to once again vanish away the blood that kept pouring out of the cut down on his bony hip.

He was so skinny, so delicate. Whose idea had it been to leave him on his own against Adam, of all things? It was a small miracle he didn’t die. And not only he had survived, but he had actually done some damage, earning them all time by keeping him away from the main battle and maintaining the property damage to a minimum while he could.

He had almost died for his daughter and her dream. He had a heart. One that was beating so damn hard, doing its very best, just like the sinner when he fought Adam.

He was a killer, a cannibal, an asshole. And he had a heart.

III

The third time Lucifer saw Alastor bleed was, in retrospect, not as big of a deal as he made it to be.

Lucifer wasn’t a great cook. He wasn’t incompetent; he kept himself and Lilith fed at the beginning of time just fine, but after imps were created, about ten thousand years ago, there really hadn’t been a need for Lucifer to cook ever again. But he wanted to do something nice for Charlie, and he had heard from Vaggie how Alastor had taught her a few things in the kitchen after he witnessed her setting toasts on fire, and how she had turned the cooking lessons into a bonding experience, the results of their hard work something she could proudly share with everyone she cared about.

Lucifer worked through his jealousy like he heard Charlie coach the hotel residents once, and he decided that there was no reason for him to not be a part of that. Surely, there were still things Charlie didn’t know how to make, right? And if there weren’t, then that was okay, because there sure were a lot that Lucifer didn’t know. She could teach him. She would! She instantly said yes the moment he brought it up to her, except…

Except she decided to include Alastor as well, because she argued that she wasn’t good enough in the kitchen yet, and apparently, the Radio Demon was a fantastic cook.

Lucifer complained mostly out of habit. Bickering with the sinner was fun, really, but the guy didn’t need to know that. His ego was big enough as it was. Not that he didn’t have a reason though; the man was charming, the perfect charismatic radio host who jumped up the ladder of Hell’s hierarchy faster than anyone before him, and he was powerful, for a sinner. Not only through his own strength and subsequently due to the souls he kept acquiring, but he was smart and chose enemies and allies well. Even after vanishing for years, when Hell surely should’ve forgotten him, he didn’t need to do much to get the spotlight back on him and reinstate his position as one of the most feared creatures in the Pride Ring. It was reasonable for a guy like that to have such a big ego.

And then, as Lucifer had the opportunity to have him teach him, he could only add that to his list of assets. His instructions were clear, he was patient and gentle but still encouraged them to be mindful of the time and move not like they didn’t know what they were doing, but like they were simply remembering something they hadn’t done in a long time. Which was actually true for Lucifer. Perhaps that was the problem. Feeling capable, he got a little too comfortable with the knife, and then…

“Alastor!” Charlie shrieked in horror.

“I’m fine, my dear, this is nothing. Don’t touch it with your hands, or you’ll get blood on them. We’re still cooking. Don’t get any blood on the vegetables!”

“You’re hurt!”

“I’m fine, Your Majesty, it’s really no big deal—”

“Stars, I hurt you! You’re bleeding! And it’s my fault!”

“Your Majesty, you can barely call this bleeding—”

“Let me fix it!”

“What? There’s nothing to fix, Your Majes—”

Blinded by panic, Lucifer reached out for Alastor’s injured hand —his hand, he had injured a pianist’s hand— and brought it to his lips, holding it by the wrist, so he could clean the blood and close the wound with his saliva, while keeping his own hands clean.

For a moment, no one in the kitchen moved. All three of them stood there, holding their breaths, with eyes far too wide and shoulders way too tense. Then Lucifer dropped the sinner’s hand and vanished with a ‘poof’ to reappear at the other side of the room, as far as possible.

“So! That’s fixed! Anyway!”

He went quiet, because he had no idea what to say, and apparently neither did the others. Charlie’s face was turning redder by the second, and Alastor had never looked more like a deer than in that moment, completely paralyzed. Still, after another minute or maybe twenty went by, he cleared his throat, fixed his smile which had nearly disappeared in his astonishment, and went back to the cucumber that Lucifer had been all too happily massacring.

“Well, I’ll be finishing this one, then!” he said, rinsing the knife before getting to it. “Charlie, dear, can you check on the gravy? Your Majesty, you may start on the rice.”

“Right. Yeah, I can do that.”

“Wonderful.”

Lucifer resumed the cooking like a man on a mission, laser-focused and repeating every instruction in his mind like a mantra until he was done with that particular step, doing his best to ignore the way his heart kept trying to escape his chest and the taste on his tongue that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times he asked Charlie for a sample of the sauce she was merely monitoring.

He had to admit, in the end, that Alastor was indeed a fantastic cook. He also tasted fantastic himself.

+ I

The very first time Alastor saw Lucifer bleed was not an occasion he could ever share with someone else. Pity, he would’ve liked bragging about making the King of Hell bleed. But it would be impossible for a while, at least. Not only because the ‘wound’ was too insignificant to be called that, but because Alastor’s own madness could hardly be omitted from the narrative for it to make sense.

The little setback didn’t sour his mood as one would’ve expected, though; probably because he was still reeling with endorphins after the first make out session of his life. He’d always found the idea of a foreign tongue inside his mouth disgusting, and he hadn’t enjoyed the sensation at first, but when the tip scraped itself in one of Alastor’s fangs, releasing a delicious nectar that couldn’t even compare to the blood Rosie had bottled from the last extermination, the experience quickly became an unforgettable one, as was Lucifer’s promise that he would one day sit on his lap and let him drink straight from his neck, but there were a couple of wishes Alastor needed to grant the king for that to happen; some of those requests rivaling Angel Dust’s most depraved and rewarded works.

Alastor, while nervous in his inexperience and not yet convinced that he would find most if not any of those scenarios enjoyable, couldn’t wait. If anyone asked, he would say the golden, angelic blood of the fallen monarch was that addictive. And even to himself, he swore it had nothing to do with the way his own heart skipped a beat whenever The Devil smiled at him.

It was the blood. That was all he cared for. Really.

#hazbin hotel #ao3 #fanfic #appleradio #radioapple #writing #lucifer morningstar #alastor #Lucifer is growing and coming to term with his feelings like the ancient being that he is #but you guys aren't getting Alastor's version of events yet #this is merely a peek #radioapple week

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igotanidea · 2 hours

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The perfect story: Dick Grayson x reader

requested by @fullbelieverheart (thank you! <#)

summary: Dick waking up alone for the third time this week because his beloved girlfriend/fiancee is away promoting her book (she's a successful writer) and he can't accompany her because of his duties as vigilante.

warnings: LIGHT SMUT, MDNI.

***

Dick groaned in his sleep and rolled on the side, instinctively reaching out to Y/N’s side of the bed. Though Instead of meeting with her soft warm flesh, that would ground him in reality, helping ease whatever burden was haunting his mind, his hands met with emptiness.

Third time this week.

He should have known better.

It’s been like that since she published another book, which obviously became another market success, reaching a dizzying number of copies sold. There was no denying his girlfriend was a literary genius and he was proud but it also made him …

Lonely.

If waking up at 4 am feeling your entire body tense from touch starvation is not loneliness then what is?

He was doing everything to ease it.

Clutching her pillow.

Taking off his sleeping shirt and holding himself.

Running his hands on his skin imagining her soft caresses.

Nothing helped

It was like he could just tear his own skin off from all the tension and need to feel.

Feel her hands on her body.

Feel the warmth of her embrace.

Her skin against his.

Not in a sexual way. Not at all. More like - tender way. Just being close.

He craved physical affection and her presence.

Meanwhile, even her scent on the sheets has almost evaporated and he could not recall the last time she spent the evening or the night with him. Just being there, both mind and body. He yearned for her desperately, but doing all in his capacity to hold those feelings back, knowing it would bring her down from her success high.

Instead, he settled on listening to her interviews on the radio, reading her stories (books with dedications after all) and watching her on the breakfast TV.

Lonely.

Sighing in both frustration and resignation he sat up in bed, running hands over his face, hoping to wipe his emotions away. If only he could be there with her. If only his nightwing duties weren’t keeping him glued to Gotham and Bludhaven. If only he could just travel with his fiancée, without worrying about the future of their relationship.

Cause it was pretty obvious that given their lines of work, situations like that were to happen more often than not.

And losing her for the books and writing started to become his biggest fear, and a threat worse than any villain could pose. At this point it seemed like she had more in common with Jason, constantly babbling about the authors, publishers, plot twists and book characters, of which Dick had only vague ideas.

“Dickie…”

His head snapped to the doors, where she was standing. Still in her pretty party dress, with stilettos in hands, slightly tipsy with weariness on her face. The light coming from the hallway illuminated her silhouette making the contours of her body blur. An angel or a demon.

“I’m sorry…” her tone was sincere, almost pleading as she carefully came inside, perching on the bed, reaching for his hand.

“It’s 4 am Y/N…”

“I know. And I’m sorry…”

So lonely.

“I miss you.”

“Dickie…”

“What?” he raised his head, meeting her eyes, unable to hide the longing and pain. “What’s more there to say? I miss you. That’s it. There’s nothing you could say to make it stop.”

“I’m sorry…” a few tears brimmed in her eyes

“You said it.”

“The party—”

“Did you at least have fun?” he cut her off, not wanting to hear about another fancy banquet where she was the star. Even from her words he could imagine the looks men must have given her and how most of them would love to just whisk her away.

“I—”

“You know what, just forget it.”

“Please don’t be like that…”

“Do you even still love me?”

“Hey, that’s not fair! It’s my work, Dick. The same kind of work as yours, when you are absent the whole night, patrolling on the streets. Just because you are taking some sort of break and are here doesn’t change it.”

“This is not about me—”

“No, this is about us. Us, Dick. You and me. So how could you even ask me that?”

He sighed in frustration, running hand through his hair. This was not how this conversation was going in his head. She was finally here, and all he did was pout and act like a moody five year old.

“Don’t worry babe. Once the press starts digging into my personal life once more you’ll get all the paparazzi and journalists in your pretty face.” She teased, sensing his unease, trying to soothe the atmosphere.

“The only thing I want in my face are your lips.” He smirked, picking up the tone, taking a chance to diffuse the tension.

“Finally you’re making sense.” she smiled, rolling up her dress and climbing on the bed next to him, capturing his lips in hers for just a second, before pulling away.

“Don’t you dare-“ he placed hand on the back of her head pulling her back to him.

“I’m tired-“

“Don’t worry, I’ll do all the work. You just have to lay down and look pretty for me…”

He tangled fingers in her hair, capably messing up the elegant updo she was sporting letting the curls flow down, symbolically freeing her not only from the hairstyle, but also from the work mask. Right now, she was the home version.

His home version.

The one that didn’t require much stuff and definitely nothing on her.

“I missed this…” he caught onto her hips, sliding the material of her dress even higher, up to her waist and over her head.

“Me too…” she responded laying on her back, giving him full access to her skin, almost fully exposed.

“Why are you wearing such pretty underwear for an official party?” Dick hummed, trailing a path down her chest and between her breast with his nose. Her smell was intoxicating and he was going to make sure it stayed with him longer this time. “This little thing is supposed to be only for my eyes.”

“I thought you only liked not seeing my lingerie?”

“But yet, removing it is only my job…” he whispered, playing with the clasp of her bra. “Did you put that front fastened one on purpose, pumpkin?”

“I'll take the fifth on that…”

“Whatever, it doesn’t really matter much now.”

His touch was like fire, showing off the inferno inside him. Fueled by their time apart, but still fought off bravely to avoid premature ending of this sweet reunion of two lovers lost amongst the sea of everyday duties.

Lips met lips, body brushed over body, skin touched skin, covering with goosebumps.

Intensity of the movements causing the cover to fall onto the floor, incapable of standing up against the naked passion.

“Dick…”

“Yeah, keep saying my name, baby …” he grabbed the back of her thighs, caressing them only adding to the sensation of being fully embraced by him. “Isn’t that better than your books?”

It was so much better.

No description could ever give justice to everything she was feeling now. The divide between heaven when he was thrusting forwards and hell when he was pulling back. The fire burning her to the core, leaving nothing but an immortal soul melting into his.

Carnal pleasure bellied by the explosion of the spirit, finding a way home. To the place where it belonged.

How could she even put into words all the longing, all the need, the want to both keep him like that forever and let go in his arms?

To be possessed, dominated and loved like this till the end of all time?

“Dick…”

His body under her fingertips, his muscles clenching in time with each movement and stroke.

‘Y/N….”

Her softness and warmth, her eagerness and finally the feeling of him being complete.

In time Dick started becoming a little rough and possessive, purposefully moving slower and deeper, relishing each breathless moan and spasm contorting her face. Pressing thumbs into the undersides of her breast, before moving them to cup her ass, pressing her core more into him.

Developing the urge to ruin her but also to keep her safe and protected.

“You’re mine…” he groaned, connecting their foreheads, intensifying the thrusts.

“I’m yours.” She moaned, letting him bite her neck to leave a mark for everyone to see.

“Mine!””

“Yours!”

The grip on her waist tightened, the digging of nails on his back left crescent marks.

His mouth was on her breast, licking, nibbling and kissing.

“Yes!”

Her hands pulled at his hair, arching to his ministrations.

Neither of them break the pace of the thrusting, almost grasping the peak of the mountain. Just within reach.

“Dick!”

“Y/N!”

Falling into the abyss in the best possible way, knowing that this descent will undeniably end right here.

In this bed, in between the crumpled sheets with the loved one by the side.

Reality has never been sweeter.

***

“How much longer till the promotional tour’s over?” he asked some time later. His back was against the headboard, but this time Y/n was right next to him, with head on his shoulder, with legs hooked over his lap.

They were exchanging soft, lazy kisses, speaking volumes about the depth of their connection.

“I hope the hype on my writing’s never stop-“

“Y/N!” he pinched her side, causing a gasp of surprise and pain “come on, it was not that hard.”

“Maybe, but someone made my body sensitive!”

“And I’m gonna brag about it.” He kissed her again “But seriously, when will I have you all to myself again?”

“In a few weeks—”

“FEW WEEKS!?”

“There’s really no need to shout about it. I could—”

“You could end up tied to the bedpost.”

“Dick!”

“Okay, fine, we can work with chairs too.” he raised hands in surrender, agreeing to another piece of furniture as if that was calming her down.

“You really have to stop watching netflix shows labelled as voluptuous. You’re getting ideas.”

“I’m sorry? I’m getting them all by myself, thank you very much! Besides, you weren’t complaining fifteen minutes ago, cumming happily.”

“I need to enjoy you for a long time…” she sighed.

“Wish I could go with you-“

“You could. But we both know you won’t.”

He sighed, and for a second they just sat there in silence holding onto each other, with interlaced fingers and heavy hearts.

“Promise to call me. Skype me. Text me. Whatever. Just don’t leave me hanging.”

“Promise. You will be sick of my voice when I come back.”

“When you’re back after those weeks, it won't be your voice that I’ll be interested in” he teased.

“Want to remind me what exactly you’ll be longing for?” her lips found a way to his.

“Since you asked so nicely—” he pulled her on top of him, reciprocating eagerly.

In a few hours, she would have to get up and finally pack her suitcase, but for now – it was just them two.

#dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson smut #nightwing smut #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x you #nightwing x y/n #nightwing x you #dick grayson fluff #nightwing fluff

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bicycle4two · 23 hours

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he must know (how it will end) || Jason Todd x F!Reader

Summary:

she'd follow jason todd anywhere

an orpheus and eurydice retelling

...

Read on AO3

...

It’s a familiar and comforting sight, his back—the way his muscles flex under his shirt, the broadness of his shoulders, his confident posture.

One time, long ago when she first noticed him, when he’d first found her, she thought that although his frame was small, smaller than her own from years of being hungry, he was sturdy, unshakable–he carried himself like he knew things years beyond their age and that made him someone she would follow whole heartedly because she knew that he would never lead her astray, that he was a light amidst all the darkness.

(It’s pretty dark right now)

She’d spent years trailing closely behind him, trying to match his pace so that she would not get left behind and end up lost. Many a time he’d find her turning her head this way and that, stumbling into an unknown room of Wayne Manor, looking for her class in the wrong hallway, and he’d always guide her back to familiar waters, looking over his shoulder to make sure that she’s still there, following him.

(He’s not looking back now.)

There isn’t much that she remembers. It’s all fuzzy when she tries to think of the events that could have led up to this moment–waking up, getting ready for the day, those things seem to be irrelevant pieces of the puzzle. She imagines that maybe she was attacked, kidnapped, caught in the wrong place at the wrong time–whatever the reason, it does not explain where they are now, why it feels like they’ve been walking forever and, most importantly, why he’s not looking at her.

Jason? She calls, to ease her worry, but no words come out. She stumbles—her foot, it hurts, why does it hurt?—and Jason’s stride falters.

He stops, she sees him beginning to turn–

(Look at me, please)

–But he doesn’t look back.

Why doesn’t he look back?

A beat passes, the quietness of their surroundings is deafening to her, before Jason resumes their trek, his movements faster, more determined.

—And she follows, she’ll always follow, forcing herself to catch up so she’s just a few steps behind him, because even if she doesn’t know what’s happening, she trusts him, she’ll follow him anywhere.

(But why won’t he look back?)

…

The first time he finds her, she’s curled up in a corner of an unfamiliar alleyway with scrapes all over her hands and knees. He’s breathing heavily, his hair is pushed back, slick from sweat, and the soles of his new shoes are scuffed up.

He looks every bit the boy from the streets he used to be, but dressed in better, though now dirty, clothes.

She thinks she looks worse, with tear streaks down her cheeks.

It surprises her that he knows her name, rasps it out with a heavy exhale.

She doesn’t quite know what to say to him, his bright eyes gazing down at her, because he’s a boy and she doesn’t yet know how to talk to boys.

To her, boys are mean, cruel for no reason. No good reason, at least, because no matter how much her aunt tells her that they pick on her because they like her, she hates them—hates how they tug on her hair and point out the gap between her front teeth. She hates how they chased her into hiding in this alleyway only to abandon her when they could not find her, leaving her hopelessly lost.

If to be liked was to be hurt, to be scared, then she wishes no one liked her at all.

Jason Todd is a boy, a boy who looked for her, a boy who says her name like breathing.

“That’s you, right?” He asks, patiently, kindly.

“Yes,” she replies, shakily.

He smiles, brilliantly like his eyes, and holds out his hand, small and calloused.

“I found you.”

…

It feels like days have passed since she and Jason have begun this mysterious journey.

Days of walking in darkness, days with nothing to listen to but the sounds of Jason’s heavy footsteps. Her steps are much softer, careful in order to avoid tripping, quiet because she was raised to dance in silence, to glide rather than to stomp.

Every so often Jason would stop, almost like he’s waiting for her. Even if she’s always right behind him, he stops all the same, head tilted like he’s listening. For what, she does not know, but the further they get from where they’ve come from, Jason’s usual stride seems a little less confident.

Jason? She tries again but nothing.

So they walk.

(She’ll follow him, walk for however long she needs to, because it’s Jason)

He still doesn’t look back.

…

Jason once said that her gaze was like fire, that he’d feel her stare before he’d hear her come, that although her gait is silent, her eyes beckon. Her eyes, he had said, were more than just windows but were open doors, inviting him to see her, know her.

–And she’s embarrassed, shy.

Because then he must know–

(How can he not know?)

–how often her eyes drift towards him when they’re in the same room, how she seeks him out.

He must know why.

He must know.

He must.

(Look back.)

…

Light!

Their journey is reaching its end and it’s been so long since she’s seen light, almost felt like she’d never see it again, and now it feels like she could touch it with the tips of her fingers if she’d just reach out–

But she won’t, she won’t touch the light first because it’s Jason, Jason is ahead of her and the light shines onto him, casting his shadow over her, keeping her from its warmth, but that doesn’t matter, because it’s Jason and all of a sudden, despite him being just a few feet in front of her, he seems so much closer now, and she’s excited, because there’s light and there’s Jason and—

And her foot, the foot that’s been injured since before their journey, it hurts, the pain more real now than it felt before, and she can’t put any weight on it so she loses her balance, she’s falling, she–

“Jason!” She yelps because it’s he who she calls for when she’s scared, when she’s in trouble and Jason–

Jason, he turns, he turns and he finally looks at her, finally, his bright, brilliant eyes find hers, his arms reaching out to catch her and–

Darkness.

…

“I love you.”

“I know.”

“How?”

“It’s the way you look at me.”

“And what way is that?”

“I imagine the same way I look at you.”

...

a/n

i basically saw some poetry about orpheus and eurydice one day and could not get them out of my head.

i don't know if i want this to stand alone or if it needs a part 2. what do you think?

...

Part 2

#jason todd #fanfic #jason todd fanfic #jason todd reader #red hood #jason todd fanfiction #mythology retelling #orpheus and eurydice

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niishi · 8 months

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That scene post dressrosa where luffys sleeping off his fight and Zoro wants to wake him up so bad.... makes me think about how Zoro only rlly sleeps(not naps) 4hrs a day. so, he's up late a lot and sometimes gets a spike of energy and just gets bored and goes to luffys bed to wake him up bc he knows luffys always down to clown

#time to get analytical bc i started down a thinking about zoro rabbit hole #but anyways #i feel like zoros mediation helps him regulate his emotions (amongst other things)#meditation** and i had to fix autocorrect like 4x and it still didnt fix it smfh #and that he uses that to gain mental and emotional strength and that is a big part of his character #and hes rlly good at it #but everyone gets those moments where they cant sit still #where their nerves are on edge #and theres many instances u can see that in zoro #and usually when hes like this #hes also antsy to drink #or like during fights where he turns to nonstop joking to cope with the intense situation #or he turns to luffy for distraction or guidance (always think about when they got off the ship at thriller bark)#anyways these are the moments where you see the “imperfect” parts of zoro #the natural parts of him that are intrinsic to who he is as a person #he can regulate and cope as much as he wants but #hes still a goober that gets anxious and nervous #what i love is that he recognizes it though #how hes feeling and what makes him feel better and more at ease #he takes care of his emotions as its needed #imo #anyways he wakes Luffy up and they play night crawlers on the deck and eventually usopp hears and he joins too #and eventually robin but shes just tickling them #with her 100 arms

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bwere · 15 days

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HOW THEY E4T YOU OUT !

choso, nanami, gojo, geto, sukuna, toji

3.3k+ wc — pssy eatin, spnking, degradation, sqrting [request are always open] mdni + not proofread

CHOSO KAMO

Devours you every chance he gets as if he’s going to die if he doesn't.

His eyes were tired and his back was slumped when he arrived home like usual. On the days when he needs to leave for work and return once more, his muscle memory always searches for you before anything else.

He came in, forgot to take off his shoes, his phone in hand and an exhausted look on his face.

“Bad day Cho’?” you asked.

“M’just tired.” He hummed out.

“Aww i’m sorry Cho’ how can I make you feel better?”

“Can I see her?”

୨୧

“Mmngh can never get enough of your pretty pussy, baby— please.. she’s sho’ mghn delicious..”��

Choso is a man who makes you tremble while he cries as he proceeds to eat your soul out. A man who cums in his pants just by looking at your pussy as if it were his first time seeing it. Because he doesn’t want to do anything but eat your pussy and make you feel good.

It was over the moment you allowed this man to taste you. His only desire now—was to have his face permanently pressed into your folds.

Choso keeps his face inside your pussy as if he were scuba diving, fuck the goggles. He thinks eating you out only ended successfully based on how messy he was when he finished.

With both palms keeping you spread open nice and wide for him. Like there’s a reward beyond the coma inducing orgasm destined to be achieved for the both of you when he’s done. He wants to see your cunt in full view, and access to every nook and cranny possible.

He’s needy and messy, he’ll stuff his face like he lost his house keys in your cervix. And doesn’t see himself done until, your juices are soaking more than just the bedsheets. He aims to see the mixed cum and saliva dripping down his chin and far past his stomach.

He just can’t help it, he wants to make you feel so good he's a pussy pleaser.

“F-fuck baby mmnghm, am i doin’ ghud p-pretty?..” he whines, his eyes hazy and lusted as his tongue makes rounds on your clit. Sucking and mumbling with his mouth full.

“y-yes jus’ like that cho’ so good f’me mmm…” you struggle, your palms ruffling through his hair for support.

“S-so good..thank you–mnuh thank you..” He slobbers sweet nothings to himself as the thousands of taste buds on his tongue individually roam in and out of your folds. Leaving no bare of your skin un-sampled. Tasting everything there is to taste without fail.

“Uhng, cho’ r-right there m’so close..!”

Abusing your clit with ease as he promptly twists and prods his fingers out and back in. “you gonna come? n-not yet, m’ not done—keep going just a little more..baby pleashh~”

NANAMI KENTO

Caresses you with one goal in mind, that is the satisfaction that comes with making you finish.

When you knocked on his door and made your way inside, he was in a virtual conference.

The mere sight of him making your pussy excruciatingly wet.

His arms were visibly exposed, and his sleeves were rolled up. His clothing appeared tighter, especially with the veins on his skin throbbing. The buttons on his shirt could have easily burst from the way they were begging to be undone.

He glanced at you and motioned silently for you to come sit on his knee while he muted his call.

"baby, what's wrong?" he asks, sliding a hand to your waist to hold you in place on his thigh.

“Nothinnn’ just miss you is all,” you lie, leaning down to give him a quick kiss to his temple.

“Is that so?” he questions, his glasses slipping down just enough to reveal his content eyes.

“Mhmm I reaaally missed you ken’”

"I can feel you rocking your weight on my thigh, so don't lie to me."

୨୧

“Sit on my face baby—let me take care of you”

Although Kento Nanami is always pent-up, he is able to maintain his composure. He can, has, and will keep going for hours. He will drop to his knees and encircle your thighs with his huge arms the moment you ask him to. With his face burying deeper into your cunt as if he were employed on a graveyard shift from 9 to 5.

After all, he's a gentleman, which means that he's hooked on seeing your body shake just by making out with your cunt. The boulder in his pants twitching with every lustful movement the scene in front of him causes.

He’d never stop until you finish, making sure you emptied all you had on his tongue, before he makes you do it again on his dick.

“Umngh– that feel good sweetheart?” He goes on, your shaky legs being forced apart by his grasp so they are unable to get in the way of his view.

“Mhmm–keep going ken’ feels soo good..” you moan.

Kentos a clit lover. He never concludes these sessions until your clit is puffy and your pussy is gaping from his fingers.

And every time you are at a loss for words, frantically seeking for something to cling onto, he leaves a mental note that makes you whimper when he does it again.

He stones both his middle and ring fingers inside of you despite never once letting go of that puffy clit he deems so tasty. He sucks, strokes, and makes out with your pussy like a natural.

He’s the type to have an area 51 lockdown on your thighs, the type to let you grab a fistful of his hair and let you ride his face at any tempo your little heart desires. His palms rubbing circles on the inside of your thighs—leading you to your final destination.

“You’re doing so good—that's it, make me taste how good im doing love...”

GOJO SATORU

Loves the way you give up under his touch, fighting against the orgasm he’s gonna take from you.

“Satoru Gojo, knock it off..!” you huffed out. you had enough of him toying with you all day.

He asked to go with you on your errands and promised not to get in the way.

Yet he’s been teasing you all day, telling you how good he’s gonna fuck your brains out. Putting his hand on your thigh in the car, just to play coy and ‘accidentally’ slip a finger through the hems of your panties.

Even as you were trying to reach an agreement on a new game for you and him to play, he made attempts to grind your ass against him.

"Huuh? Satoru Gojo? Who’s that? M’names toru," he chuckles.

"We’re in public, Satoru. You’re being so annoying." you groan rolling your eyes at him, before moving on to the next row.

"Whattt, a man can’t love on his girlfriend nowadays?” he exaggerates, following immediately behind you, copying your steps.

୨୧

“P-Put it in already toru’…!” you whined.

“You weren't this eager for me earlier…” he gasped dramatically, kissing up your thigh, pulling your panties down in the opposite direction.

“Quit teasing Toru’ jus’ need you in me...”

“If you wan’ it inside, gotta show me how eager you are to cum on my face baby...”

You won't believe how sloppy and vulgar this man is when he's eating you out.

Your eyes will be drawn to the back of your head by him. He'll put his blindfold over your eyes and make you only able to see stars.

His thick and lengthy fingers have enough ability to take the wind right out of your lungs and reach farther than any toy could alone.

“Hah..c-can’t toru’,” struggling to catch your breath, you try to push his face away.

He’s a man who makes sure to pleasure you first. And makes you cum no less than twice on his tongue. He swallows everything he can, and makes you cum again if he didn’t get it all the first time.

"C'monnn baby—mmnm, know your pussy got another one in her, tell her to give it to me.." he laughs.

Satoru loves to watch your body unfold under him. He adores the way your throat reaches the highest octave you can afford to give. The way he pulls countless moans out of your throat, causing your voice to crack. He loves to hear how much your ‘can't take it toru’” fuel his ego just so he can get ready to show you just how much he’ll make you take it.

He finger fucks you like crazy. Maintaining the pad of his thumb on your clit while stuffing your cunt onto his fingers in a rhythmic motion. He never wastes time to put his mouth to work.

“Too much toru’ gonna squ—nghmm..!” you yelp, getting cut off by the way he scoots your ass closer to his face—allowing him to focus on the deep areas within your pussy, causing you to squirt then and there without the ability to stop.

“Good fuckin’ job baby–wouldve mmhp- brought an umbrella if I knew it was gonna rain today,”

“...”

GETO SUGURU

He takes his time eating you out, he just wants to see how desperate you can get for him.

"You were moving so much, love. What's the matter? Had a nightmare?" Geto asks out to you.

Gaining consciousness slowly, you watch the strands of his hair fall, concealing his half open eyes, before he pushes them back over his head.

Initially he turned away from you in an attempt to cool down your side of the bed since he believed you could have been feeling too hot. But when you kept shuffling under the blankets, he decided to wake you up.

"Mmm, no, it was more like auhh..." you pause, pondering on what you’re going to say, sitting up to rest against the headboard of the bed.

"Like what?" he inquires, positioning himself to align with your stance.

"You know..." You feel a little ashamed at the thought, but you avoid his gaze until you hear his laugh fill the room.

“Aw my pretty girl havin’ wet dreams about me?”

Throwing a pillow at his face as you huff out, “It’s not funny Sugu’, I genuinely couldn’t sleep…!”

“Why don’t you show me what I did in your dream then, hm?”

୨୧

“Go on uhmngh, let’s make your dream come true–as much as your pretty mmh.. pussy desires,”

Geto wants to see how horny you really are for him. He adores nothing but to see how desperate you really are to get off.

“uhhuhnn r-right there baby..” your breath hitching, while you ride up and down his mouth.

He watches you mindlessly use him like you’re the one in control. He’ll let you fuck his fingers—your nails clenching the strands of his hair, undoing the bun he wrapped up prior.

He feels the way the heels of your feet are snug deep in his broad shoulders. And he doesn’t care, because all Geto can care about is the way you’re haphazardly slamming your pussy in his face without loss.

He’ll agree when you say you need a moment, only to slam you back down on his face when your movement starts to slow. He’ll latch around your waist with the fore of his arms, and shove himself deep between your thighs.

“Sugu’ mnghn—slow down p-please..!” Playing dumb on how your vindications for him slow down fall on stone-deaf ears.

“Mmmnghm you said faster? sure thing baby..” Smirking into your clit while he devours you—his grip only gets tighter, mocking the same way your fingers begin to tighten against his scalp.

“Mmmn sugu’…don’t stop…c-cummin’ nghh-guh!”

Geto damn near inhales your cunt at this point, giving himself no air as he breathes and digests everything that comes out of your pussy, emphasising the slurping noises his lips bring as they're mingled in your folds while you squirt in his mouth.

“Atta girl..Can’t sleep now though, might as well keep goin’ till sunrise.”

SUKUNA RYOMEN

He wants to drain the thoughts from your mind and watch you falter under him.

“Why are you ignoring me?” you press, but get an annoyed sigh in response.

You’ve asked him to let you accompany him multiple times so you could watch him box-train, and while usually he says no–today he said yes as an excuse to show off his pretty fiancé. Yet, he was pissed when he watched a group of shirtless scumbags surrounding you with brags about their meager accomplishments.

He saw you giggling up a storm but you weren’t laughing because of him and that thought alone made his blood boil.

"I was just bein’ nice Kuna’, so I'm not sure why you have an attitude."

"Maybe it's caus' you wanna go around flirtin' with every guy in the damn gym." Sukuna scolds, pulling his duffel bag out to put away his gloves—rolling his eyes in advance as he slams his locker door.

"I did not try to flirt! They came up to me, asked about you and then the talk continued. A cordial discussion some might say," you joke.

“Oh yeah? What were they sayin’ then?” he scoffs, raising an eyebrow at your remark, leaning against the locker doors, an action forbidding you to walk away.

୨୧

“T-They we’re just sayingnn t-that you..—you mghn!”

Sukuna either goes all out or doesn’t, and when it comes to you, going all out is just the tip of the iceberg.

He’s a man who hates getting dirty, but when it’s your cunt? You know it’s ate right when your mattress is stained through like a sponge.

“I-I what brat? Spit it out." he spites, making fun of your efforts to speak—his fingers breaking and entering you with ease.

Sukuna's cruel and wicked, if you will. He has your pussy leaking and accessible to him completely. Eating and finger fucking you enduringly.

The filthy squelches and slurps fill both your ears whilst he fingers you till your internal juices coats his fingertips.

“That you–hah…w-win lots mphm…K-kuna pleash..!..can’t breathe..please..” you begin to writhe beneath his lips, swallowing in shock at his ruthless touch.

You can tell him to let you breathe and that you can no longer cum, all you want, but he doesn't bother to listen.

The palms of his hand repeatedly make contact with your ass, torturing the skin below them and causing acute pain on your cheeks, leaving no place for pity.

“Yeah? s’that why you were gigglin’ and given fuck me eyes?”

He makes it his mission every time to eat you so good no matter what you do it’ll never be enough. He’ll make sure those half assed attempts to get off alone don’t result in a happy ending without him.

“Mmgnh n-no! I wasn’t–ah..promise–I p-promise k-kuna’ please it hurts..!”

“You wanna play bimbo while I’m trainin’, but actin’ all innocent when we’re alone?” he hisses.

With his tongue stretching deeper than any man could ever hope to, he gives himself the advantage to tongue-fuck you all over by moving his palms under your lower back, titling your pussy deeper on his face.

“N-no!...g– mmm g-gonna’ cum..! so—close kuna..”

He finds it amusing how sensitive you are. “mnnguh …cum brat—since that's all y’wanna be good for.”

“K-Kuna m-mmmngh—!...”

Only allowing you a few moments to return to consciousness before he's prepared to fold you again like an expert origami master at work.

“Who said I was done? Open your legs n’ give me another one whore.”

TOJI FUSHIGURO

Wants to humiliate you as you squirm and watch him violate your folds.

Toji didn’t play when it came to his gym routine and to have you with him every night as his gym partner was even better. He said he would take care of it for you, when you looked into what to wear to the gym, and he did just that.

He got you a matching colored windbreaker and Nike biker shorts. He wasn't giving it any consideration at first, merely noting that it'd be more breathable.

Up until the moment he realised he was staring at your ass each time you got on the treadmill. Addicted to the way the material made your ass appear, as you passed by his station.

His cock tensed because of the way the dark velvety material flaunted every curve of your pussy when you moved.

Sensing you approaching him as he was finishing up a set on the weighted arm raises—he dwelled more on the way your ass seemed to converse with him while he watched you slip into his line of sight.

"Hmm?" he hums, completing his final rep. He goes to get a complimentary wipe from the cleaning station and walks back to wipe down the machine. Leaving it sanitised and ready for it’s next use.

“Toji baby, sorry to interrupt but can you spot me next?”

"Oh, I see," a sneer lifted on his scarred lips as he continues; "finally doin' it today huh?"

You put on a smile and take over his former position. “indeed, I decided to give some new workouts a go today! I’m pretty excited y’know?”

He nods, "there's no rush, jus’ go slow, lemme know if it's too much."

“Yeah yeah yeah…I got this [...] wait Toji, aren’t you supposed to be by my arms?”

୨୧

“Thought you were excited a minute ago, all that energy go to your pussy?”

Toji Fushiguro, experienced and tongue-talented. You'll be cruising to the finish line like a race car thanks to him. He takes good care of your pussy—forcing you to understand how much he will always know your pussy far more than you and anyone else could.

Especially how the tiniest of friction from him that causes your walls to spasm on his taste buds—confirmation in itself.

He’ll force you to keep your eyes open and watch—as he makes love with your cunt.

“Keep your eyes open doll— m’ tryna see them turn white”

“Hmmph! T-Toji…What if someone comes in?...ngh, ah—“

“The only one cummin’ is you,” he retaliates.

With his left hand, he pulls back both of your legs as he utilises his right. Your whole-body quivering amid him from his constant clit assaults.

He finger fucks you swifter than previously, and immediately senses your insides clenching around his fingers, forcing you with no choice but to be filled to the brim, and disoriented due to his tongue.

“The thought of you bein’ caught spread open on a weight bench got ya’ pussy pulsatin’ huh?”

“Mmngh a-absolutleey..not…!”

Studying as a wave of humiliation passes over your expression, he puts a couple harsh palms to your ass with a SMACK. Making the area sting over and over, as the air creeps to irritate the burn.

“Denyin’ with a straight face as if I can’t feel you smotherin’ my fingers? Fuckin’ slut,”

“M’ not a slu-ngh–! Toji’...mmmh”, whimpering—you reach for the edges of the weight bench looking desperate for support.

“Wan’..mmm wanna cum Toji…please,”

“You wanna cum?”

“Mmhm!—” you cry out, your voice wavering in response.

“Only sluts get to cum—mmmh, ptuih—but yer not one of em’ are ya’?” he tests you, spitting on your clit as though your sopping pussy hasn't already caused enough fluids to run down his throat.

“Mm–m’ n-not–nnmugh!"

“You know what I wanna hear ma’ say it.” he demands, adding another finger to the two, fucking you fuller.

“I-Im a s-slut toji…mgnhm a slut—a slut for you, please let me cummmngh!—” you babble out, not even sure if it's for him anymore; the words bring nothing but a warning to anyone who hears—unable to stop. Feeling yourself reach your limit against his tongue.

“So needy—mmngh cum like a good lil’ slut then,”

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fairy-angel222 · 4 months

Text

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

—geto showing gojo how to fuck you like you deserve

pairing: geto x fem! reader x gojo

content: smut, voyeurism, cuckholding, creampie, cunnulingus, cum eating (gojo eats geto’s cum out of you), praise, degradation, hair pulling, fingering, fingering, consensual cheating, overstimulation, choking

a/n: i’m really sorry for the repost, tumblr flagged the first one :’)

Geto showing Gojo how to fuck you, Gojo’s darling little girlfriend, just right. Gojo sitting on the single sofa in the two’s shared living room. With Geto on the large one and you on his lap with long fingers deep inside you, curling against your g spot as he pumped them in and out. His other hand was wrapped tightly around your neck, forcing you to keep direct eye contact with your boyfriend.

Gojo gulped hard as he felt his boner grow impossibly harder, straining against his pants as his face grew hot at the sight. Soft moans and pants were leaving your pretty lips as your body jerked with every thrust of Geto’s fingers. “See that? I’m barely even doing anything and she’s becoming a mess.” Geto scoffed, giving you no warning as he began hammering his long fingers into you at a rapid pace.

The curled digits were hitting your spot so perfectly, making you cry out loudly in pleasure. Your legs threatening to close as you whimpered, letting out a yelp when Geto slapped your thigh in warning. “Behave, slut.” You whimpered once more, teary eyes meeting your boyfriend’s as your mouth hung open in pure ecstasy.

“F-fuck.. feels.. f-feels so good,” you moaned, eyes closing as you tried to lean back against the huge man.

“Look at him. Look at your boyfriend try to contain his boner.” Geto increased the pressure on your throat, keeping your head in place as you looked towards Gojo who kept looking away. “Bet he’s never even made you feel this good,” he falsely cooed, sending Gojo a smirk before focusing his attention back on you.

A loud moan escaped your throat when Geto inserted a third finger, stretching you out in preparation for his cock. His fingers curling against your gummy walls, and you could do nothing but whimper and cry as you neared your orgasm. “A-ah—” you mewled “m gonna, ngh— ‘m g-gonna cum,” you moaned, body starting to tremble as you felt a not so familiar coil building up in your stomach.

“Yeah? Gonna cum on my fingers and show your boyfriend what he could never do?” You nodded vigorously, your head empty as you babbled out little yeses and pleases. Geto’s eyes connected with his roommate’s, a teasing smirk on his face, “you know, you can get off to me ruining your girl if you’d like, there’s no shame in it,” he shrugged.

Gojo scoffed, rolling his eyes as he cussed the black haired man under his breath. Geto brought his lips down to your ear, “as for you, you don’t get to come until you’re nothing but a brain less slut on my cock.”

With that, the man removed his fingers from your now fluttering hole, causing you to whine out in protest, tears pooling in your eyes as you felt the coil slowly subside.

Geto lifted you up with ease, placing you on your hands and knees with your face towards Gojo before filling you up immediately. His length reaching deep inside you making you let out a soundless scream. Geto started off rough, fucking into you like he had nothing for you but hatred.

His hips slammed bruisingly against your ass, cock bullying its way against your g spot with every merciless thrust. Your eyes rolled back as you let him flatten your cheek onto the cushion of the chair. Drool pooling near the side of your mouth as you were rocked back and forth at a speed that seemed humanly impossible.

Your head was foggy, loud sobs and incoherent moans of his name spilling past your lips. “C’mon, you can do better than that. Let him know who’s making you feel this good,” Geto grunted.

“Y-you— fuck- you are, ahh,” you let out a loud cry, “you’re making me- nghh— making me feel this good. Can feel you so deep,” You whimpered, hesitantly looking towards your boyfriend’s direction to find him cock in hand, trying his hardest to match his fist to the rhythm of his friend’s thrusts.

Gojo groaned loudly when his eyes met yours, the sight of your fucked out face sending blood straight to his dick. Geto chuckled at the other male, gripping onto the curve of your waist as he continued to hammer into you, angling himself to hit all the right spots to drive you crazy.

You mewled as you arched your back, his cock practically pushing against the skin of your lower stomach with each movement of his hips. “There we go..” he cooed, watching as your face contorted into one of a pretty little slut who craved nothing but cock. His cock.

“See that? This is exactly what the bitch needs to look like. Like there’s nothing else in the world but your cock fucking into her, isn’t that right baby?” he groaned.

“Mhm!” you cried.

“Fucking hell- you’re so tight, feels like you’re gonna break me in half,” Geto grunted. And all you did was let out an incoherent babble in response, barely even registering his words as you were fucked into oblivion. Your eyes teary with nothing but pleasure.

Stars clouded your vision and your toes curled as you neared your release, “S-suguru.. ‘m gonna cum, please let me cum. Wanna be your good girl ‘n cum on your cock,” you cried out in between broken mewls, eyes puffy as you tried to look back at him.

“You’re an even bigger slut than I thought, I hope your little boyfriend is taking notes on how to treat his slutty little girlfriend.” his voice was deep and raspy as he neared his own high. “Go ahead- fuck, look him in the eyes and cum for me.”

You let out a string of high pitched moans when he began to rub your clit, your brain fuzzy as glassy eyes looked towards Gojo. His mouth opened in pants and groans as he approached his orgasm with you. “Ngh— ahh. Gonna cum Suguru- ‘m a good girl right? P-please tell me ‘m a good girl,” you whined.

Geto’s eyes widened, his dick twitching at the pure desperation in your voice as you begged to be praised. He smirked, watching your ass recoil with each of his harsh thrusts. He hummed, “Such a good fucking girl for me, taking me so well.” His breathing getting heavier by the second, “Fuck, you’re my good girl baby.”

You let out a high pitched cry, “T-thank you, thank you, oh god ‘m cumming— nghh.” Eyes never leaving your boyfriend’s as your body quivered, pussy tightening as you came all over another man’s cock.

Gojo did not take long to follow after you, “Oh f-fuckk.” he groaned out as his body spasmed, fist halting around his reddened cock as his cum spilled onto his stomach in hot spurts.

Satisfied, Geto pulled you up by your hair, your back arched against his chest as he continued to fuck into you relentlessly. Pulling out another loud string of moans from your swollen lips. His head fell back, never slowing his pace as he reached closer and closer to his release.

He grunted, his breath hot on your ear when he let out a long groan. “Gonna cum in you baby— gonna fuck you full and make your boyfriend eat you out.” He whispered, his dark eyes meeting Gojo’s hungry ones.

“You’d love that won’t you baby?” you nodded with a shaky whine at his teasing coo, feeling his thrusts becoming hard and slow.

Geto let out a string of curses, stilling inside you and allowing his cum to fill your tight pussy to the brim. A glare on his face when Gojo opened his mouth to protest.

“That’s it. Take my cum deep. This is exactly how pretty little sluts like you need to be treated.” he coaxed, slowly pulling out of you for the milky substance to seep out your hole in spurts.

“Now, Satoru. Come clean her up.” his deep voice demanded. Sitting back with you on his thighs. His rough hands spreading your legs open towards your boyfriend.

Your folds glistened with your wetness, his cum slowly dripping out of you as you clenched around nothing. “Come on. You know you want to.”

Gojo stood up. Being stopped by Geto who grinned.

“Crawl.”

Gojo huffed lowly, getting down on his knees and crawling his way over to you. His tongue swiping over his lips before he found his head buried between your thighs. A soft whimper sounding from your throat at the light overstimulation to your sensitive clit.

Gojo licked up your folds, sucking both your sweetness and geto’s saltiness onto his tongue. You moaned loudly when he latched his mouth onto the small bud, his tongue swirling around it making a string of cries fill the room.

Geto watched in amusement as his friend devoured your sopping pussy. His long tongue dipping into your hole and curling into your painted walls. You let out a mewl, your head resting on Geto’s hard chest as your boyfriend used you as his meal.

“O-oh, S-Satoru baby,” you mewled, your fingers tangling in his hair and tugging with every movement of his wet tongue. “F-fuck— so good.” you let out a broken cry when Gojo thrusted two of his slender fingers into you. Lewd squelching sounds echoing the walls as he fucked them into you.

Your pussy gushed onto his hand, the man’s skilled tongue unable to keep up with your leaking juices. Your eyes rolled back when he sucked on your clit once more, body shaking lightly at the sensitivity.

Geto smiled, kissing down your neck while running his thumb along your bottom lip. Slipping it inside and pressing it at the back of your tongue. He hummed, “Think we should feed his lil ego?” Your head tilting to the side to let him graze the skin of your neck with his teeth. “Make a mess on his tongue?”

You twisted and turned as your second orgasm washed over you. You were so sensitive, trying to squirm away but having your legs held tightly opened by Geto. “O-oh fuck— ahh, ‘s too much.”

Gojo moaned into you, his face becoming more drenched by the second as he feasted on your wetness. Hungrily lapping up everything you had to give. Your pussy squirting messily against the force of his fingers inside you.

“Look at that,” Geto teased, “Finally made your girlfriend squirt.”

Gojo kept on with his torture, loud whines and mewls falling past your lips as he became drunk on your pussy. His eyes closed and his mouth latched onto you tight. His face moving along with the movements of your hips trying to escape him.

“S-satoru— nngh- too much.” you sobbed, your legs twitching and your hips jerking as your back arched, your boyfriend getting back to almost painfully licking at your clit. “Satoru, ‘m too sensitive- fuck.” Gojo only looked up at you with half opened eyes, the only thing on his mind being how fucking good you tasted on his tongue.

Geto groaned, your teary face making his dick rock hard again. “Give him one more yeah? You can take it.”

Your second one did not take long to engulf you whole. Your legs trembling once more as you cried out loudly. Mewls of Gojo’s name falling from your tongue as your stomach tightened, pussy spilling even more onto his face. Gojo kept his face buried in you, tongue still making its final laps despite your constant whimpers.

“Okay now, that’s enough.” Geto laughed, peeling Gojo off of you by his hair. Your boyfriend letting out a groan as he tried to latch back onto you. “Gotta get our girl cleaned up now.”

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lymtw · 9 days

Text

Toji invites you over with a simple text of:

You busy tonight, doll?

To which you respond:

I don't think so... Not that I know of. Why?

Toji laughs through his nose when he reads your message. Even the way you text him has your timidness imbued into it. It's precious.

Come spend the night at my place. You told me you're off tomorrow, right?

I am, but are you sure? Driving home is not a problem for me. I can hang out and go home after.

You're staying. I wanna try something with you and it requires you to stay the night. You can't go home.

Oh okay! I'll be there in 10.

Drive safe.

Toji likes that you're very precise about the time you'll be arriving somewhere, and if you're ever late when it comes to spending time with him, you apologize profusely, nonstop. You won't stop blubbering about why you're late and how sorry you are for making him wait, even after Toji's expressed that he's more than understanding. He's the king of showing up late to plans, so he can't be a hypocrite and scold you when you don't do it often at all.

You're so sorry, though, and you don't shut up about it until he makes you shut up with a kiss. You're helpless, and you can't for the life of you figure out where to put your hands when you're so focused on the grip he had on your waist to pull you up against him.

He releases your lips, cracking a grin at the look of wonder on your face. He can't deny the pride that swells in his chest at his ability to disarm you and prevent you from having a total meltdown over a three minute delay.

Toji has gotten so much better at handling situations like these with you. It's only fair for him to gain satisfaction out of making you feel better. After all, you are a first for him. You're emotionally fragile, you're a nervous wreck, and your voice competes with the wind just to be heard. Toji doesn't set aside the fact that you're also beautiful, warmhearted, and you try for him. He sees your attempts to be affectionate. You'll slowly reach your hand out to hold his and then bail the second he catches you. He ends up having to interlock his fingers with yours because your embarrassment doesn't allow you to try again. He still appreciates that you leave your comfort zone for him and allow him to guide you towards new experiences.

"Stop with the guilty feelings, ma. We have all night and all day tomorrow. What's a couple minutes to ensure you get to me in one piece?" He says, comforting your droopy self. You look like a sad, abandoned puppy, now sporting rosy cheeks from his surprising gesture.

"Okay," you say, feeling a little more at ease. "What did you have in mind for tonight?"

"Follow me," he says, leading you through his living room to his kitchen. He pulls out a stool for you and points at it. "Sit." You want to laugh at the way he says it like he's teaching commands to a dog, but you know he doesn't mean it that way, so you obediently sit down like one anyway.

"Have you eaten anything?" He asks, silently hoping you have because he doesn't have anything to make you dinner. He would have to order in or pick something up.

"I ate a couple hours ago. Still pretty full," you respond, watching him reach up for something in his cabinets. There's now a tall glass bottle with a red label and matching cap sitting on the counter.

"How 'bout it?" He says, a large hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle. "We could go to the couch and watch a movie or something."

He's never seen you under the influence of anything, but based on your reaction, maybe he'll get a show tonight. He's always wanted to know what you would be like if you were more extroverted and outspoken. There's nothing wrong with the way you are, but if things keep going the way they're going between you and Toji, he's bound to meet your chatty alter ego at some point in the future. What better way to have this experience than in a secure place with someone who can handle their alcohol and take care of you if it turns out that you can't.

"Okay, sure." You giggle, excitedly.

You're a lightweight. Even the fruitiest, sweetest alcoholic beverage will quickly take a toll on you while you're sipping on it. Wine is a step up, so you'll have to try your best to keep it together for the sake of not looking sloppy in front of Toji.

Toji brings down two glasses, and pours out the deep red liquid into them. One for you, one for him. He hands the glass to you, and nods at your quiet "thank you".

Toji watches as you immediately take a sip. He sees the way your nose scrunches at what you consider to be a funny taste, but the second you put the glass down, you smile like nothing. You don't like it at all. You hate the bitterness, and the fact that it's made with fermented grapes lives in the back of your head.

"How is it?" He asks, holding back a chuckle. You're too sweet for your own good, pretending to enjoy this for him.

"I like it," you say, pressing your lips together.

"Yeah? I think it's kinda gross. Guess I was expecting more from a fancy ass bottle, but brands are gonna brand, huh?"

You giggle, almost involuntarily. You're one gulp in, and already you're starting to feel the effects.

One of your worst habits includes chugging drinks that don't taste good, just so you can get them over with. You even do this when your drink is messed up at coffee shop. You're too nice to ask the barista to remake it, so you suck it up and drink the incorrect beverage solely for the caffeine you hope it has in it. This time is no different. You hate the taste of alcohol. You don't do plain shots, you can't stand hard ciders, and wine is no exception, but you're doing this for Toji. He cracked open the bottle to share with you, so you're going to drink every ounce of the liquid in the glass, whether you like the taste or not.

You bring the glass to your lips again, taking a much larger sip. The glass is a little less than halfway now, and your eyelids are starting to feel a little heavy. Not in a sleepy manner, but you can't seem to hold your eyes open as wide anymore.

You exhale through your nose, shut your eyes, and then blink them back open to take note of your altered state.

"That was a lot. How are you feeling?" Toji asks, noticing a shift in your demeanor. You seem a little more sluggish now. You turn your attention to him, your eyes rolling when they turn to meet his.

"I'm good, how are you?" You ask, like it was the start of a conversation rather than an ongoing one. Your eyes almost shut completely when you smile at him.

"You're tipsy already, aren't you?" He asks, with a grin on his face.

"Pshh, what? No, i'm not," you say, contradicting yourself with a giggle. "Answer the question, baby. How are you?"

"Fine," he responds, lingering on the pet name. You've got loose lips, now. In any other circumstance, you would address him by his name. Most of the time Toji is the one giving you pet names, for the sake of flustering you. He loves the way you look at him when he calls you doll or sweetheart, somewhat shocked every time the words leave his mouth.

"Yeah? That's good." You pick up the glass one more time, sighing before you mutter, "'scuse me. Gotta finish this."

With that last sip, the glass was now empty. Even Toji thinks you drank that too fast, but he still has the courtesy to ask you if you want more.

"Mhm, I'll have a little bit more. Just a tiny bit." Toji pours as much as he did the first time, chuckling when you nod in approval of the quantity. "That's perfect. Absolutely, perfect. You're a genius, my love." You flash him a smile before starting on the next glass.

Toji was considering having another glass, but that was before you called him "my love" in a tone so warm that he felt like he just had a bowl of hot soup that was now settling in his stomach. That was before you smiled at him in such a free spirited manner. It was too late for him to see you in this state while completely sober, but he sure as hell wouldn't be adding anymore alcohol to his system. He can't miss something like this, so instead he leans forward on the counter, and intently watches your every move.

"I got something on my face?" You ask, dragging your sleeves all over your face. You examine your sleeves and they're clean. "You liar. You're looking at me like that for nothing." You squint at him, a slight scrunch in your nose to define your defensiveness.

Toji laughs, his focus now on the small pinch in your brows. "Don't go picking fights over nothing. It's not a crime to look at my pretty baby."

Your faux tough exterior immediately crumbles, the irked expression on your face dropping to the ground, at the sugary words he uses on you. Your face feels very warm, and now there's an indefinite blush on it. You can't stop smiling at the look on Toji's face. He's so focused that he's gone speechless, and you eventually break into a laughing fit because of it.

"Hey... i'm usually the quiet one. Why aren't you talking, pretty boy? Need me to shut up?"

The pet name has Toji glancing at your glass, noticing that it was full for less than five minutes. This was new— you being flirtatious towards him. He didn't have any complaints about it whatsoever.

Once again, the quantity of the wine in your glass was below the halfway mark. "Nah, baby. Talk to me. You must really like the wine, huh?"

"Mmm..." you lean forward towards him, with your elbow on the counter and your chin in your palm. "What makes you say that?"

He actually snickers this time, earning a sly grin from you. "You're chugging it like it's water. It's either you love it or it tastes like ass and you're dying to spit it out."

You pick up the glass again, one last time. "Let's find out if I like it," you say as if you're not on your second serving. You let the liquid hit your tongue, and you are instantly repulsed by the flavor. The glass is tilted all the way up, signaling that you've finished two cups of wine in less than fifteen minutes. Your cheeks are filled with the drink, blown up like a puffer fish, which makes Toji smile softly with anticipation for your reaction. Your tongue stays on the roof of your mouth, keeping the wine in your cheeks separate, to give you a break for a few seconds. You release the bubbles of your cheeks and your mouth is flooded with the bittersweet liquid. You swallow the burgundy mouthful and smile with your lips pressed together once it's all gone. The mouth drying effect of wine is your least favorite thing about it.

"So?" Toji prompts.

"It's-" you gag, clasping a hand over your mouth with wide, slightly teary eyes.

Toji's chest and shoulders shake as he contains his laughter, his lips pressed together tightly to stifle the smile threatening to show itself, but his eyes tell you everything.

"Wooo, sorry about that," you say, chuckling through the embarrassment. "It's good," you repeat, still muffled by your palm.

"Yeah? Want more?" Toji asks, holding up the bottle with a teasing grin on his face.

You almost gag again but manage to control yourself. "No, thank you. Any more and I'll doze off, and we both know that's not what i'm here for." There was a hint of sultriness in your tone, something Toji was not sufficiently familiar with. It was a completely welcome shift from your normally tentative way of speaking to him.

"I know why you're here, but I wanna know what you think you're here for."

You stand from your stool and lean more of your body onto the counter. Your hand reaches for his, and for the first time, you don't pull back before making contact with his skin. "To love on you, of course," you say, with those pretty rosy cheeks. Your eyes remained glossy and your nose was still red from trying not to bring the wine back up earlier, but Toji thought you looked so cute.

"Is that right?" His thumb brushes over your knuckles, feeling the softness against his rough fingertip.

"Let's go watch that movie you were talking about and you'll see what I mean."

Toji was loving this. Your confidence, your lack of holding back anything you had to say, it was truly baffling how you could be someone else entirely with just a couple glasses of wine.

You keep his hand in yours, and as if it were your house, you say, "come on," and drag him along to the living room.

This time you say "sit" and point at the couch. This time he's the obedient dog and does as you say, sitting on the exact cushion you were pointing at with a smirk on his face. He moves the couch pillow aside to make room for you, but you had another seat in mind. You take two steps towards him before slowly dropping yourself into his lap, straddling him.

"I see you're finally taking your seat on the throne, hm?" He grins, resting his hands on your waist. This is the closest Toji's been allowed to watch you giggle without you burying your face into his neck and it's a trip. He can see the details of the creases around your eyes and the lift in your cheeks as you smile. He feels fuzzy, and he didn't even finish his glass of wine, so he knows it's not that.

"Stop making me laugh and pick a movie, will you? I'm here for that, too."

He picks up the remote for the TV and turns it on. "How are you gonna watch the movie while facing me?"

"Actually,.. can I tell you a secret, baby?" You ask, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your fingers play with the hair that reaches towards the nape of his neck, combing through it gently.

"What's that, princess?" Toji asks, vert eyes flitting between your eyes and that sweet smile of yours.

"I don't wanna watch a movie. I... wanna look at you... and that's it." Your nails gently scratch the back of his head, eliciting a tingly sensation that makes chills run down his spine.

"That's cool, too," Toji says, turning the TV off again, not caring that it was on for less than a minute before you changed your mind. He sighs, adjusting his position beneath you. Your thighs are secured around his hips, your knees touching the backrest of the couch.

"You're so handsome, my baby. God, look at those eyes," you whisper in awe, before giggling and bringing your hands to his face. You trace the bags under his eyes with your thumbs while admiring the haunting shade of green that scopes on you. Toji's hand comes up to loosely wrap around your wrist. He's not there to stop you, he just wants to move along with you as you observe his face.

"I know I don't say this to you enough, but I find you..." you sigh, blinking slowly, "enchanting..." You lean in and kiss the left corner of his lips—his right, and feel the smooth, tattered skin beneath your warm lips. "and I love you," you mumble into the cicatrix. "So fucking much, baby. And i'm sorry that you'll never know exactly how much because you aren't me." You're looking at him with so much adoration and touching him with a delicacy that can't be put into words. It's a deadly combination, one that has Toji in a chokehold and forces him to soften up even more for you.

He tightens the hold he has on your waist, pulling you closer until your stomach is pressed to his, as a result. You being so affectionate towards him is making him feel really good, and you have no idea because you're too focused on appreciating him. He's subconsciously leaning into your touch, his softened gaze meeting your lovestruck one.

"Fuck. I love you, too, princess," he murmurs, squeezing your wrist in his hand. He pulls your hand down to his chest. "Want you to aim for my lips, this time."

"Okay," you say, smiling before closing the distance between your lips and Toji's. He can still taste the remnants of the wine you inhaled minutes ago, but it tastes much better and a lot sweeter on you. Toji can hear your high pitched little hums as you kiss him, happiness pouring into your kisses. You're trying so hard not to laugh in his face, and trying is the best you can do, right now. You never were good at hiding your smile from Toji. He can't see it, but he can feel the way your lips widen, and he's occasionally kissing your teeth when your sluggishness keeps you from matching his pace. With little pants leaving you, you drag your lips away.

He sighs, frustrated by the loss of your softness against him. "Baby..." he groans, the sound almost whine-like to your ears. He wants more, so much more of you, and you're ignoring him. You're too busy kissing his chin, and his cheeks, and the tip of his nose.

You drag your other hand down to his chest and keep your hands splayed out on it as you let your lips trail his jaw, lightly sucking on the skin. Toji can't help but think about how this version of you will be gone in the morning. You won't be as outwardly affectionate, you'll go back to second guessing every move you make with him and shrinking every time he steals kisses from you, instead of confidently kissing him back like you did a minute ago.

You make your way down his neck, pressing kiss after kiss on him before you move towards his ear. "I love you, Toji," you whisper, kissing the shell of his ear after. "Love you, love you, love you soooo much," you barrage, before throwing him off with a bite to his earlobe. You giggle like a menace into his ear, the warmth of your breath luring goosebumps out onto his skin.

He chuckles, repeatedly squeezing the soft skin of your waist between his hands. "Yeah? Tell me again," he murmurs snaking his hands beneath the back of your shirt. Your skin is very warm, and there's nothing to blame but Toji and that shitty wine for making your body react this way.

With uninterrupted hands, you course your fingers through his hair and lean in to bite him again, this time on his neck. Toji chuckles at how you instantly rush to soothe him with your tongue and a warm kiss, even when you inflicted zero pain on him.

"I love you, Toji," you repeat into the wet indentations you left behind. "My love... my handsome man... I cherish you, you know?"

Toji is practically purring at all the affection you're showering him with. The slurring of your words is blocked out and they remain clear as day to him. He manages to hum a deep little "mhm" to your last statement.

"It's just so hard to talk to you sometimes. You... you're so intimidating, sometimes. I don't expect you to understand..." you divert your gaze to his shoulder, not able to look him in the eyes as vulnerability takes sudden control of your emotions. "It seems like I don't appreciate you sometimes—all the time, but I do, Toji. I do appreciate you, and I can't ever say I love you enough to show it. Words aren't always enough."

Toji catches the waver in your voice and his eyes dart to yours. You're tearing up, and you're trying to still your quivering lips by pressing them together.

"Shit," Toji mutters under his breath. You have the saddest expression he's ever seen and it's messing with his heart. He pulls his hands out of your shirt so that he can swiftly pull you into his warm embrace. "Hey," he coos. You're shaking against him, holding your breath to avoid sobbing. Your lungs burn, but you'd rather feel that than make a scene of your tears. "Don't be sad, mama. What's with the tears, hm?" he murmurs. He can feel your tears dampening his shoulder, but the fact that you haven't made a sound is concerning. "Breathe or you'll die," he says, only half joking. He rubs a soothing palm against your back, his other arm around your waist.

You let out what sounds like a mixture between a choked laugh and a sob, slowly but surely regulating your breathing. You don't even feel like saying anything anymore because you know your voice will give way to even more pity.

"You're more than enough for me," Toji says, his chin resting on your head. "I know how you feel, you know how I feel. We're complete." He can feel the way you scrunch his shirt up into your fists. As if he would go anywhere without you. "I get you and you're stuck with me. Got it?" You silently nod against his shoulder in response. "Sit up and let me look at you."

You really don't want him to see you this way. Your eyes feel swollen and you don't feel presentable.

"I can't..." you say, barely audible. You release his shirt and let your hands go limp behind him.

"Why not?"

"I'm not pretty right now. Don't look at me."

"I'm gonna look at you," he challenges with a teasing grin.

"Toji, don't look at me."

"Too late, it's happening. Plan's already in motion," he says, sliding his arms onto your shoulders.

"Toji, don't-" He effortlessly pushes you off his shoulder and gives you a once over. You look defeated and you're unable to look him in the eyes, but at least he can see you now.

"Don't know what you were so worried about. You look the same but more blush-y." You finally give him your slightly reddened eyes, a soft smile appearing on your face. You look like your sober self. "Yeah, you look the same."

"Are you lying?" You ask, still not regaining the full strength of your voice yet.

"I wouldn't tell you if I was, but no, i'm not lying. You're so pretty." Toji wiped away tears that were stuck beneath your eyes, and you giggled. He washed away your sadness within a couple minutes. Toji always did this for you in exchange for your love and affection. He lifted your spirits when you didn't feel deserving of him, and with time, he got much better at recognizing the signs that came with this ridiculous idea you planted in your head.

"You're done loving on me? Already?" He asks in playful disbelief.

"You're not done with me? Do you actually want more?" You ask, hesitantly.

"Don't want more, I need more," he corrects, returning his hands to their rightful place on your waist. "Get all up on me, princess."

You giggle, leaning closer towards him to peck a kiss onto his cheek.

"Mhm, like that," he says, contently, when you pick up the pace and start smothering him. "Yeah, baby, there you go." His forearms go beneath your shirt, encircling around your bare waist and pulling you close to him like before. "Who's getting spoiled like me?" He says through a grin. You're holding back laughs as he continues to praise you for your affection.

"S-Stop," you say through a wheeze, not able to contain the sound any longer when you looked at him.

"What are you laughing at, huh?" He chases you this time, pressing his nose into your cheek before planting a light kiss into your jaw.

"You're so unserious," you say, turning your head as he keeps going with the kisses.

"Mmm... I'm serious about you," he says, feeling the vibration of your laughter against his grin. "So serious."

Your cheeks feel incredibly hot from how much you've been smiling. In this little drunken haze, things are so good. You're so happy, you're so affectionate, and you talk so much. This isn't like you at all, but it's not hurting anyone, especially not Toji. There was one minor slip, but you moved past it so quickly like the words never left your head to begin with. You're just so simple... so easy to take care of.

Toji notices the way your eyes are starting to lid with tiredness, and while he would love for you to doze off in his arms right then and there, you'd probably prefer waking up in a bed.

"Let's go to bed, yeah?" He suggests.

"What? No! I just got here... We can still talk, and kiss and- I'm not even tired."

Toji grins at the way you fight him on this, and he has half a mind to indulge you when you look so adorable, but he has to stand his ground. He's right.

"But, you are. You can't even hold your eyes open, anymore."

You feel sad again because the rest of the night would be going to waste if you both go to sleep early. You're there to spend time with Toji, and yet you feel like it's your fault your time is being cut short. You're thinking you shouldn't have drank the wine so quickly, if at all.

"Listen, doll," Toji says. He doesn't like the sadness that resurfaces on your pretty face. He doesn't think you should look that way because of him. "We're just gonna go lay in bed. We don't have to go to sleep. We can stay up as long as you want. Light on or light off, whatever you wanna do, let's just move it to the room."

You sigh, still not completely convinced that the night isn't over, but Toji managed to persuade you. "Will you carry me, please? My legs feel like jelly."

"Of course. What kind of person would I be if I let you stumble into the room on your own?"

You sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, your face buried into the crook of his neck. "You'd still be my favorite person, but i'd be a little upset..."

Toji stands from the couch, humming in response to your quiet mumbles.

"...but not really upset. Just a little bummed. Not for too long, though, 'cause I love you, but I would expect an apology from you if I fell down," you draw out.

Toji cracks at your little ramblings. It's a ten second walk from the couch to the bedroom, and the whole time you were working through a hypothetical conflict.

"Yeah? You'd want me to say sorry?" He asks, setting you down on the bed.

"Mhm, and then I wouldn't be upset or bummed anymore," you mutter to yourself as you roll onto your back.

"That's fair. Want the light on or off?"

"Off," you blurt. "Let's tell scary stories," you trill, enthusiastically. You pull the blanket over your lower body until it reaches just below your chest.

Toji makes his way to the bed after turning off the light. He takes his shirt off, and out of habit lets it fall to the floor. "We're not telling scary stories this late at night," he says, joining you beneath the blanket.

"But, they're funny," you say, turning to face him. "I don't get scared, either."

"Depends on who's telling the story. I'm sure as hell not gonna feed you a nightmare, doll."

"Boo," you say, lowly. "Whatever, i'm over it already," you mutter, rolling your eyes.

Toji watches you grow more and more tired as you throw random, nonsensical topics at him. You're taking longer to respond by the minute, and you're dozing off while humming in thought. You shake awake each time it happens and try to keep the conversation going, but Toji just shushes you and tells you to go back to sleep.

"I can see the moon through the window," you mumble, looking past him.

"I know, shh..." he hushes you, again.

"There's only like... one star," you whisper, in awe.

"Baby, come here," Toji says, like he's about to lecture you about the rules of sleep, but really he's just thinking that if his body heat doesn't put you down, he's gonna have to stay up with you until you fall asleep on your own.

You scoot closer towards Toji, tucking your arms into your chest when he reaches out to pull you into him the rest of the way. His body exudes so much warmth, you feel like you don't need the blanket at all.

There was nothing left for you to say when you couldn't see or feel anything but him. It was as if you were gone the second he enveloped you in his arms. You were small to the brink of nonexistence, no longer there to tell him what your surroundings were, or to ask him thoughtless, silly questions. You were no longer there to fight off the sleep he only seemed to bring closer towards you. Feeling his warm skin against you made you change your mind about this invisible fiend that was pulling your eyelids down. You now welcomed the calls to rest from your steady heartbeats.

Your silence gave him the answer he needed, but for good measure, he poked at you with a whisper of, "Ma?" and waited a few seconds for your response. Nothing. He sighed and coiled around you tighter. Thoughts of the night ran through his head. Your soft, yet, occasionally bruising kisses and the imprints of your teeth on his skin, your unapologetic laughter, your certainty in using the pet names that claimed him as yours. He was weak for the amount of times you openly told him you loved him. It was a psychedelic dream, to say the least. One he hoped would continue once he followed you into slumber.

You woke up hours later, completely smothered by your bear of a man. All you could do was stare up at the ceiling, while you waited for Toji to wake up because he was literally breathing down your neck. His arm rested over your chest, his legs were tangled with yours, and his face was right beside your face. You weren't feeling the effects of the wine anymore, and luckily, you didn't have a headache or any signs of a hangover. You were back, which meant...

"What are you staring at?" A deep, raspy voice jolts you out of your thoughts.

You look at the handsome face next to you, and as if your heart can hear and see, it wakes up. "Nothing. Just woke up," you lie.

"Mm... you were staring hard at the roof. I thought it came to life or something," Toji chuckles. You smile, briefly, before looking at the ceiling again.

Toji releases you and flips onto his back, wanting to know what's so fascinating about the space you're looking at. "What are you thinking?" He asks, when he discovers nothing but blank space.

You take your time, not wanting to stumble over your words. Your heart skips a beat when he turns his head to look at you. In the time it takes for you to respond, you both could have gone back to sleep again.

"A penny for your thoughts?" he finally says, following the idiom with a question. "Did I even use that correctly?"

You can't help but laugh, nodding your head to answer his question. "I'm thinking about last night. Sorry if I said anything stupid."

Toji turns his body towards you again, thinking the only thing that's stupid is that he's still staring at the roof instead of staring at you. "You didn't. You were calm, from what I got to see, at least."

"So... boring."

"Not boring," he instantly catches. "You were perfect. You didn't have me running around chasing you, you weren't a brat—it couldn't have gone better, ma." He purposely missed something in his less than brief recount of the night to you. He can think back to the emotions that seeped through your little daze, and your insecurity about outwardly showing him love, all he wants, but there's no way in hell he's bringing that up to you, now. "You ramble a lot," he adds, a soft smile emerging on his face.

You can feel your cheeks warming up. "Oh god," you groan in embarrassment. "That's not- Sorry, that sounds... not so fun. Annoying of me, actually."

"Stop, it was cute," he assures, adding more fury to the blush creeping on your face. "Then you wouldn't go to sleep 'cause you kept seeing stuff outside the window."

You wanted to drown yourself in the blanket. Shame and embarrassment were winning their battle against you, as always.

"That was also cute," he says, watching the way your lips twitch as you bite back a smile. "You know my favorite part, though?" He says, grinning as he leans towards your ear.

"N-No, what?" You ask, trying so hard not to giggle.

"When you kissed me and told me you loved me," he murmurs into your ear like it's a dirty secret.

You snicker, the short sound of amusement evolving into laughter within seconds. You throw the blanket over your face and partially over Toji's face. The sight of your veiled body shaking with laughter lured out a couple chuckles of his own.

"That's funny?" He asks, pulling the blanket down, allowing you to see the sly grin he's sporting.

"A little bit," you respond, smiling— a remainder of your laughter.

"Silly girl. Come here," he says, dragging you back into his arms. There's no reason you should be awake at six in the morning on your day off. "Let's go back to sleep," he murmurs into the crown of your head. "We can go out for breakfast, later."

"Okay," you mumble, eyes shut already as you embrace the natural warmth of his body.

"One more thing," he murmurs. You don't raise your gaze, but your ears are open and you're listening closely. "Tell me you love me."

You didn't expect that, but you weren't going to deny him of such a simple thing. The words were easy to recite because you meant them with every fiber of your being. "I love you, Toji," you comply, immediately.

He sighs, contently, almost like hearing those words revitalized him. "Love you, too, mama."

That went out to every version of you.

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irndad · 3 months

Text

won't you be my sunshine-a.h.

a/n: runner!hotch x sunshine!reader !! sooooo fluffy, first hotch fic of mine so be gentle with me! lots of pining and happy end <3 happy to continue with these two in an au!

Aaron Hotchner is not a particularly emotive man.

This is a skill he has honed, a cherished quality that was not born of luck or of natural ability, but a skill that he has honed down to a fine tip point. He needs to be, in this job. It’s cost him things, of course, but for the most part, Aaron is happy with his choices. He takes a firm line with people he works with, and does not always let up in his personal life.

The only time this sometimes causes a hitch, is in his romantic life.

Which isn’t to say that he has one.

There is a woman who reads in the park every morning. Aaron affectionately thinks of this bench as her bench, as it is marked by wisterias and hyacinths on either end of it. It’s something of a ritual, after his runs, that they talk.

It’s fun. He doesn’t have a lot of space for fun. He’d collapsed on the bench one day after siphoning his anger at a particular case into a difficult run. He’d crashed onto the bench, sweaty and exhausted and hadn’t even seen her there. Which is a bit impressive, as she’s hard to miss the sight of. It is also in equal measure embarrassing. It’s not every day you collapse in front of a gorgeous woman, disturbing her from what is likely a lovely afternoon in the park.

That’s how it started, anyway. She doesn’t run, so each break is punctuated by her company. He’s actually not sure if they’re flirting. He’s not very good at that- the last time he has to he was 17 and so full of unearned confidence, he lucked into a partnership.

Now, he’s a bit older and a lot more scarred. She’s younger than him, not by much. She laughs with her whole chest at his dry, glib humor- and this is something Aaron had forgotten. The joy of a beautiful, wonderful woman’s company beside you.

He feels a little out of place next to her. Romance is not something he does. Ever thought he’d do again, really. That’s not to say that this is romance. Their romance is almost entirely hypothetical. He thinks of her at work, which is a monumental development in and of itself.

“So, how was the paperwork? I know you’ve been taking a little more on since your colleague had a baby. It’s so kind of you to do it.” She asks him on a beautiful August morning.

He fights off a blush that she remembers what he’s done for JJ. He’s not big on mentioning his own good deeds. Aaron believes that this would cancel it out. Still, her praise is a warm balm to the exhaustion that plagues him. It’s hedonistic, the way he wants her to say more about him. He wonders absentmindedly if she knew everything about him that’s hard to love, she’d still paint him with such a light and warm glance. She’s bright enough, he’s tempted to tell her everything about him just because she asks.

“It was…alright. My team is excellent. I’m lucky to work with people like them, it makes the process better. I couldn’t ask for more.”

She giggles a little at this, and there’s that roar of affection.

He feels a sense of ease around her, one that is suspicious for him. He tries not to romanticize, but this connection is hard not to. She’s beautiful- this is obvious to anyone who meets her, a simple truth of her. But Aaron is trained to notice things little factors that show the truth of someone.

He likes to watch her- it’s a pleasant thing, getting to be in her presence. It’s a little addicting, the way she looks at him. It makes him feel like all of the things he knows to be true of himself- his relative failures, the closed-off nature of his demeanor- are things that not only can be overlooked, but don’t seem to be in her line of sight at all. It’s an honor, to have her doe eyes rake over the sight of him, to meet him with gentle conversation.

He tries not to notice that she is gorgeous. Aaron has been around beautiful women, of course- this is not something that should surprise him. But there’s something effervescent about her, something that his him wondering if it’s possible that she might feel the same way about him. He knows that he used to be a more attractive man, but now. Well, he’s a bit bruised, both metaphorically and physically.

It feels odd to even think of this happening. She’s just got a warm, sweet tone and he replays what it’s like when she greets him. She smiles her brilliant grin and sometimes hugs him. It’s embarrassing how much he likes the feeling of it- soft curves against hard muscle and scarred skin. She always smells wonderful, and he wonders how nice it would be to have more of this.

“I like your new shirt, by the way.” She smiles at him, and his heart jumps. It feels juvenile, but- she’s wearing a new lipstick, it seems. Her beautiful pout looks awfully tempting.

“I like the lip color,” he tries to compliment back amenably, but that doesn’t stick. Instead, it comes out too earnest. He’s hyper aware of the fact that she’s right by him. She flushes, and Aaron feels a surge of pride.

“Thank you,” she says, voice softer and flattered, and isn’t that a pretty sound? He’d love to do that for her, make her feel seen, make her feel like she’s as beautiful as she is, “I thought you might like it.”

It’s her directiveness that breaks the seal, he supposes looking back. Because she wore the lipstick for him. That’s just about the only thing it can mean, and he is struck with a particularly sensory fantasy of what it would be like to slot his mouth against hers- he gets the feeling it might be worth it even if he gets the color on his mouth.

He’s a gentleman, though, he decides after a decidedly ungentlemanly amount of time spend staring at the gorgeous curve of her lips.

“Would you want to get dinner with me?” He hears himself say it before he’s processed it, and then it’s out into the world. His heart is hammering and he’s blaming on the run, when god, it’s absolutely about how breathtaking she looks, the sunlight reflecting off her hair like a halo. When she beams back at him, she looks particularly angelic.

It’s then, she leans over and kisses him on the cheek.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

(Months later, when she is sitting on his kitchen counter and he is standing between her legs, gazing down at her with unabated fondness because he is entitled to that, he reflects on this moment and thinks god, how lucky am I, that I ran past that bench?)

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satoruhour · 4 months

Note

You and Gojo making out around Suguru’s dick. 🙏

TWICE THE TROUBLE !

a/n: sorry i took so long to get to this anon i hope this finds its way back to you <3

warnings: poly!stsg, dom!geto, sorta sub!gojo, fem!reader, oral (f and m receiving), masturbation, suguru watches for a while, multiple rounds, use of ‘slut’, cum eating, cum shot, filthy and dirty as hell lol, n*sfw under the cut

it’s no secret that geto absolutely adored the both of you — whether it be looking at you bickering over whether maple syrup or honey is better for pancakes, or when he’s watching the two of you deep in slumber after getting out to get groceries at dawn to beat the morning crowd. it’s hardly different any other time, too much deep in adoration for his two babies that even fights are done with calculated voices and soft apologies.

and even now — watching how satoru whines for attention from the both of you, pulling gently at your nape to separate your lips from geto. you can feel the latter throb under you when gojo leaps forward to kiss you while you’re still in the other’s lap, feeling his hand leave your waist to trace the line down satoru’s back and right to his ass.

“sugu—” you hear against your lips, moaning something akin to your name after when your hands pull at satoru’s white hair shortly after, “n-need both of you . .”

“patience, satoru,” geto practically purrs, purposely humping his hips up into your cunt that you whine softly, too, grinning at how he’s always got the two of you at his beck and call. he runs the show indefinitely, and you’re both fine with it, heart fluttering when he asks for a favour.

“can you eat her out, baby?” he pleads with gojo, not before leaving you with a sweet kiss that leaves you wanting more and gently detaches himself from you, “let me watch my two pretty lovers, hm?”

you giggle a little at gojo’s eagerness when he nods and takes his place in front of you instead, rushing into a kiss that has you clashing teeth and groaning in pain, but with a small sorry from gojo and kisses down your neck, you’re forgiving him instantly when he finally peels off your soaked panties, groaning to himself at just how wet you were.

at the corner of your eye, you can see suguru stripping himself of his own underwear, stroking slowly at how gojo forces your sensitive legs open to lick a slow stripe up your cunt.

“’toru—” you shut your eyes tight, head tipped back as you put all your weight into your elbows, body naturally crawling away from the other’s skilled tongue from the intensity but satoru takes his time with you, easing you into the pleasure with how slowly he tugs you back to him.

“relax, princess . .” he mumbles, feeling himself get hard just from hearing geto’s hand along his cock, and now, at how he gets to eat your pretty pussy, “let me in, yeah?”

you moan softly just as he sucks on your clit, one hand reaching for his hair and the other for geto’s hand, him barely catching you just as you dig your nails into his forearm, dominant hand stuttering at little at the minor pain. gojo mutters praises into your cunt, slurping up your juices like it’s the very first time he’s eating you out.

“satoru— s’too much—” you writhe within the sheets, rendered warm from the morning sun that filters in and you can already feel your back start to line with sweat at the ecstasy, your boyfriend never stopping his relentless tongue flicking and sucking at your bud.

your other boyfriend watches in amusement and fondness at the two of you; the drop of your mouth and the twitches in your leg, to the subtle humping of satoru’s hips and his downturned eyebrows. satoru is just lost in your pre, making sure every bit of it isn’t lost to the silk sheets that he so impulsively bought for the both of you.

you gasp when your knees are pushed to your chest, left immobilised under gojo’s hand as he loses himself in your folds, tracing his tongue down your slit and right to your hole.

he makes sure to give you what you want when you only pull him more desperately into your core with moans that reach the moon. you’re grateful that at least suguru squeezes and twines his fingers with yours, watching with that damned smile on his face at your falling apart.

“’toru, sugu, i-it’s— i’m c—”

geto laughs, “so fast, doll?”

you burn at the small teasing remark, clenching around satoru’s tongue at the same time and he groans, nudging his nose deeper into your clit. with small jerks in your body and long whines that turn into short pants, they both know you’re close. the other speeds his hand up as well, following gojo’s noisy, sloppy licks along your pussy.

“pussy so sweet, suguru, hope ya can taste her later,” his muffled speech gets the other chuckling, even more so when they see their pretty baby all ruined over their sheets, their groans mixing in with your garbled speech, just whimpering and mumbling any word your foggy brain can think about at the moment.

“yeah? lookin’ forward to it, then.” geto struggles through gritted teeth at the feel of his hand — it would never compare to the both of you, but it’s all he can manage. he did say he wanted to watch and he’s enjoying gojo’s hips humping the sheets now as he focuses on your puffy, sensitive clit.

“she close, ’toru?” gojo’s affirmative moan sends vibrations up your body, sending you into overdrive when geto leans down to meet your lips, releasing your hand to your chin gently to steal your breath. it’s rough, drool dripping from the messiness of it and the other willingly swallows your sounds, tipping over the edge just as satoru lays his tongue flat along your cunt.

“mm fuckkk—, s-shit, satoru—!” you cry into suguru’s skin, wrapping fingers around his wrist for some anchor as you gush all over your other lover’s mouth, coating his face with cum. geto’s lips part as he watches the both of you, filling his ears with your high-pitched mewls against satoru’s deeper moans that he spills with your names on his lips, filling his hand with his cum.

but the dark-haired man isn’t done, oh, no, and you both sure as hell aren’t either with the way you don’t hesitate to bring his other hand to your lips to clean it, scooping all of his cum onto your tongue.

“dirty slut,” he whispers, relishing in how you start to suck on his fingers. and then he’s blessed with the both of you tugging on his arms so he’d be on the edge of the bed, seemingly an arrangement you two agreed on. it’s obvious that you two definitely had a little talk about this when he switches between both you and satoru kneeling on the ground, tongues out and waiting.

“oh . . darlings,” geto coos, stroking his cock lazily. you’re the first to wrap your lips around his tip, suckling as he shivers at your warm mouth. but it’s not long until you’re taking it out and bringing gojo’s head closer, slapping geto’s sensitive cock on the other’s tongue. the scene sends immediate thrills down to your core, pulsating and throbbing under you.

suguru groans at the sight, his two pretty lovers using him however which way; gojo bobs his head along his boyfriend’s cock, pressing his tongue against the base of his shaft while you aid him momentarily with a hand to his nape. your hands never forget his balls, squeezing and playing with them while satoru sucks him off — and then it switches again.

this little game continues on for a while, gurgling noises and wanton moans filling the room every time his cock enters one of your mouths.

it’s so different, too — you like to have saliva dripping everywhere, a sloppy blowjob with his tip touching the back of your throat and your nose buried in his pubes. satoru likes consistency, stroking the parts he can’t reach and bobbing his head obediently and making sure he looks up at him with those blue, blue eyes of his.

“oh, baby, baby, shiiit . .” suguru groans out, hands clutching the sheets so tightly it might cramp, until you’re both squishing your faces together, each getting a share of his tip that’s leaking the remnants of the previous round.

“t-that’s so hot, fuckin’ hell,” he swears when you two start to make out around his cock, equal part of lips on each other and his length that he gets twice the pleasure and the blessing of the two of you. geto slips both his hands into your hair, cradling your heads as you two slurp and suck and slobber over his throbbing dick, moaning into each other’s mouth.

there’s strings of cum that connect you both to geto, translucent white all over your lips and hands that only adds to the obscenity, your hand coming up to help stroke his cock.

satoru follows suit, larger hand engulfing yours and looking up at him through white eyelashes again, smiling to himself when he hears geto’s choked up words. he’s so hard it hurts, the mere grinding against the sheets doing nothing for him so he moves a hand between his legs, letting out soft pants.

“i’m gonna— c-cum . .” it’s even a wonder he’s held out this long, and you add fuel to the fire when you speed up your hand along his shaft, catching the glint in satoru’s eye with a giggle and sharing in the honour of being able to have geto suguru at your mercy.

your mind is muddled, the mixture of suguru’s previous load and satoru’s strawberry scented lip gloss sending you into a frenzy. under your lips, you can feel the dark-haired man twitch, you can feel gojo’s soft lips, it’s almost too much when the latter whines into your mouth. geto interrupts; “i’m g’nna give both of you my cum— haah . . ”

you’re both off him when you hear that, pleading with two sets of eyes and with outstretched tongues while your hands never stop their assault. gojo makes use of his pretty ceruleans while there’s multiple “please’s” falling from your throat, ears flooded with the wet shlick’s of your hands.

“oh my g—god . .” geto’s hands are so tight around your hair it borderline hurts, just hunching over the both of you with his eyes fighting to stay open, “fuck— i’m c-cumming—”

his pupils are blown wide when he sprays his cum over both your faces, spurting his seed all over your tongues and cheeks. the room fills with your moans at the feeling, with hand making sure you’re milking his cock for what it’s worth. suguru’s lips contain variations of your names alongside profanities, thighs shaking under him as whines escape him.

“aw, the both of you—” geto hums, fingers releasing your hair to hold your cheeks and he wished his hands weren’t so gross and sticky so he could at least make you two pose for his camera, but his jaw drops when you both turn to each other to have your lips meet again, mouth gaping as he watches his semen drip everywhere and your tongue against satoru’s — a scene of pure filthiness.

“j-just know how to treat me . .” suguru watches, dumbfounded as gojo licks his cum off your face and vice versa, before you both turn to him with grins that remind him why he likes to take the reins in the bedroom.

“and now, i’ll treat the both of you . . how’s that sound, darlings?”

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