#match your breath to mine

[27dragons]

Match Your Breath to Mine

Chapter 4: (Un)natural habitat

"I have figured out what we're doing for spring break," Jayce announced, throwing himself onto Viktor's bed.

Viktor glanced up from where he was trying to coax his elderly second-hand laptop into freeing up enough memory to run the analysis for his data modeling class so he wouldn't have to do it in a pubic computer lab. "Is it going to your mother's house and trying to keep her from feeding us until we explode?"

"Shockingly, no." Jayce stretched out, upside down, so he could peer at Viktor's face, clearly eager for Viktor to ask.

Viktor suppressed a smile. "Get your feet off my pillow," he said. "I do not want to sleep with your gym sweat sock stink."

"If you recall," Jayce said, "it's my pillow. You're just borrowing it."

"Oh, so after you're done rubbing your feet all over it, I can swap it with the one that's on your bed so you're sleeping with the gym sweat sock stink?" It was already out of Viktor's mouth before he realized how fucked he would be if Jayce called his bluff. If he had to try to sleep with his face tucked up against a pillow that smelled entirely of Jayce's skin and hair-- Well, he might actually get to sleep faster, but he would never have another dream that was anything other than painfully erotic.

"Ugh, fine," Jayce complained, and moved his legs so his feet were dangling off the side of the bed. "Happy?"

Utterly relieved and also more than slightly disappointed, Viktor said, "Yes," and went back to trying to optimize his laptop.

"What are you doing?"

"I need to free up another two gigs of RAM," Viktor said, "or my data model is going to make it explode."

"Oh," Jayce said, and held out his hand. "Gimme."

Viktor handed it over; Jayce had a way with computers that Viktor could not hope to emulate. Jayce propped it on his chest and started opening arcane programs from within the heart of the operating system. Viktor watched, but hadn't the slightest idea what Jayce was doing. A few minutes later, Jayce handed it back. "Save whatever you're working on and then reboot," he instructed.

Viktor saved his model, double-checked that his browser tabs were all ones he'd be able to find again, and rebooted. Then he leaned back in his chair, because his possibly third-hand laptop was going to take a few minutes. "Fine," he said, "tell me about your idea for spring break."

Jayce grinned up at him. "We're going camping!"

Viktor sputtered. "Absolutely not."

-

Read the rest on AO3!

[satsugo]

୨୧ You tried to sneak out after a one-night stand. Gojo wakes up — calm, shirtless, and not okay with being left behind. What follows is possessive touches, quiet threats, and a reminder of who you belong to.

I wanted to write something that felt like a slow unravel — soft words, sharp intentions, and Gojo being terrifyingly calm in the way only he can be. just a lil treat for the yandere girlies ♡ hope it ruins you in the best way. mlist

gojo satoru x reader

minors do not interact. this piece is intended for 18+ audiences.

The floor was cold beneath your bare feet as you tiptoed across the suite.

Gojo’s apartment was too clean — pristine white walls, muted city lights pouring through wide windows, and expensive silence that made your breath feel too loud. Your dress from the night before was clutched in one hand, wrinkled and still smelling faintly like sweat and cologne. You hadn’t even put your shoes back on yet.

He was still in bed, you were sure of it. He’d been wrapped in those dark gray sheets when you slid out, dead silent. You hadn’t dared to glance back.

Until now.

“Y’know,” a voice drawled behind you — slow, amused, terrifyingly awake. “If you really wanted to leave quietly, you probably shouldn’t have stolen my shirt.”

You froze mid-step, breath caught like prey in a trap.

He was sitting up now. Hair messier than before. One long arm braced behind him, the other pushing the sheets off his bare torso. His blindfold was gone, tossed somewhere on the nightstand, and his icy blue eyes caught the dim light like sharpened crystal.

You swallowed.

“It was cold,” you offered, lamely.

“Oh, totally,” he said, voice light and sarcastic. “That’s why you’re sneaking out like you killed somebody.”

You turned slowly. “I didn’t think you'd care—”

Gojo laughed. Not loud — just sharp, like a knife sliding across glass.

“You didn’t think I’d care?” he repeated. “Sweetheart… I’ve had your name circling my brain since the second you touched me.”

He stood, bare feet whispering across the hardwood as he stalked toward you — tall, loose-limbed, terrifyingly calm.

You backed up.

Bad idea.

He moved faster, one hand pressing against the wall just beside your head, caging you without even touching you.

“That’s mine,” he said softly, flicking the hem of the shirt you were wearing. His shirt — white, oversized, the one that hung just a little too low on you and hit just high enough on your thighs to drive him insane.

“You mean the shirt?”

His head tilted. “I mean you.”

You went quiet, breath shaky. “We hooked up once.”

“So?” Gojo smiled, slow and bright — but his eyes didn’t match. They burned. “You don’t do that with someone like me and leave. That’s not how this works.”

You opened your mouth, maybe to argue. But the words died on your tongue the second his fingers hooked under the shirt’s hem and pushed up — slow, deliberate, warm palms skating along the skin of your thighs.

“W-Wait—” You shifted, but he just stepped closer, pressing the full heat of his body into yours.

“Don’t run,” he whispered, lips brushing your ear now. “You’ll only make me chase you. And you won’t like how that ends.”

Your breath hitched. His fingers kept moving — slipping higher, thumbs brushing over the crease of your hips, teeth grazing the shell of your ear.

“I liked seeing you in my shirt,” he said softly. “But I like you better out of it.”

You shivered.

Then he tugged — not gently. The shirt lifted over your head, arms caught for a moment before he pulled it free and tossed it aside. You were bare beneath, breathless and pressed against the wall like you didn’t know what to say.

“Pretty little thing,” Gojo murmured, fingers trailing over your bare stomach. “You really thought you could disappear from me? After the way you moaned my name last night?”

You blushed — visibly. It made his eyes darken.

He kissed you. Rough, breath-stealing, like he was trying to taste every sound you’d ever made. You clutched at his shoulders — and it hit you all over again just how strong he was. How fast he could crush you. But he didn’t.

Not yet.

“Bed,” he said. “Now.”

He didn’t yell — didn’t need to. You obeyed without thinking, legs shaky as you moved. He followed like a storm.

The sheets were still warm when he pushed you down, straddling you easily. His hands roamed — over your breasts, down your sides, fingers memorizing every inch like he’d been given a test on it.

“You looked so cute sneaking out,” he murmured, lips grazing your skin as he moved lower. “But you’re not going anywhere now. You hear me?”

You nodded — breathless, wrecked, unsure if it was fear or desire curling low in your stomach.

Maybe both.

He kissed the inside of your thigh, slow and lingering, before glancing up with those impossible blue eyes.

“I’m gonna remind you exactly who you belong to.”

And when he finally lowered his mouth to you — all heat, tongue, and expert cruelty — you forgot your own name.

But you remembered his.

Over and over and over again.

satsugo 2025 © all rights reserved; do not plagiarize, translate, or repost my writing.

[painsandconfusion]

Writers, here’s your reminder that you should be doing warm-ups!

Athletes need to warm up. Musicians need to warm up. Artists need to warm up. Heck, I even have to play a few matches in video games before I get into a groove every day.

Warm-ups help you get into the right headspace, give you more control of your actions and word choice, get you comfortable in your physical setting (eg: with your keyboard, notebook, tablet, or whatever you're writing with), and spark creativity.

Even if you don’t think you have spoons to write, sit down and do a couple warm-ups. If you still don’t want to, that’s alright. But. I think you’ll be surprised how often they help break that ice.

5-15 minutes is all you need. I personally set a timer for ten minutes each time and do not stop writing until the time is up. Your warm-up can be anything at all so long as it gets you writing and starts nudging those creative juices.

Here's some common warm-ups:

Journaling. Just jot down some notes about your day. Feel free to really lean into something that you noticed. We're going for description and details -- try to avoid settling into a spiral or focusing on something negative that will upset your creativity.

Short story prompts. Type that into Pinterest and pick the most ridiculous, cliche thing you can. Write a little scene, story summary, or even a rant about why you do or don't like the prompt. Just write.

Vocab challenge. If you like a bit more critical thinking to get you in the zone, have a random vocabulary word generator spit out five or so words. Check their meanings and jot down a little story or thought that includes all five. You get more familiar with beautiful and descriptive language, and it gives you a much narrowed prompt (which is lovely if you're like me and suffer each time there's an open-ended task assigned).

Character moments. Try putting your character into a generic setting and write down almost meticulously what their thought process would be. Follow them realizing they've just stepped in mud or dreading the start of the day. Pick a mundane thing and describe them working through it. This will not only get your writing going, but it will wake up the character's voice in your head.

Ongoing storytelling. Did you know that Whinnie the Poo was A.A. Milne's warm up story? He would jot down a quick little story with those very basic characters and did so every day. Whatever came to mind. He kept writing little tidbits on the same characters and eventually it turned into a series. Having that ongoing plot with isolated scenes and simple characters can help you feel more motivated to sit down and write.

Get-to-know-you-questions. Google a list of basic first-date questions (there are a million out there) and answer one yourself. Go into specifics. Where do you most want to travel and why? Let yourself ramble until the question is fully answered.

Writer's block blues. This is a favorite of mine. If you're truly stuck, write about being stuck. Eg: 'I'm supposed to write for ten minutse, but that feels so stupid and impossible. No one is goign to read this anyway. I have no ideas and the page is so overwhelming when its blank. I used to be able to write on and on and nothing could stop me. it was like breathing. but now I have nothign and do nothing and I can't even do a stupid prompt-' Even the rambling and ranting got me writing. It made things easier. It made writing this post easier. Also -- notice the typos? Yeah, don't fix those. You're in writing mode, not editing mode when you're doing this. If you edit while you write, you're forcing yourself to stay in your executive and calculating headspace rather than falling fully into creativity and dream. Ignore the mistakes. That's for future you to handle.

I've officially rambled far too much, but I hope that helps even a little bit. Live well and write often, my friends. Best of luck to you <3

[bodhiscurls]

mine next, please. ( johnny storm )

it starts when johnny sees you hold his nephew for the first time and all he can think about is how incredible life could be if you were holding his.

human torch! johnny storm x fem! reader

themes: fluff, fluff, fluff, talks of having children and marriage, obsessed johnny- if you would like a follow up, then find girl dad! johnny here!

masterlist.

"well fuck me," johnny breathes as he blatantly stares across the room.

"hard pass," ben immediately replies, shovelling a forkful of steak into his mouth. he groans in delight at the taste, sending compliments to the cook mentally- himself, duh.

"yeah, hard because you're a fucking rock, pal," and at the insult, reed immediately shoots his brother in law a look of disapproval, not that johnny even bothers to notice. how could he, because across the room at approximately fifteen feet away stands you.

"well you're clearly not fucking this rock, pal," ben slides back, but johnny doesn't even have it in him to hit him right back because again, your entire existence has him haulted.

and you're fucking starstruck stunning as it is, that's not an unusual sight for johnny to stare at you, mouth open gaping at the woman who makes him feel as invincible as when he's flaming pure fire at impossible altitudes. but when there's a baby- his sister's beautiful baby boy, attached at your hip, boy johnny storm is a goner.

the baby gurgles and the noise must alarm you because he watches as your brows narrow dangerously low and close in concentration and you gently pat the infant's back, cooing words of adoration in their ear at a high pitch that sends johnny flying right back into outer space.

he sees you, a home forever, a little army of kids that share your kind eyes and johnny's blonde hair, maybe a fusion if your smiles- though he hopes they mainly take after you. he sees sunday mornings in bed, playdates with his little girls with matching tiaras and teacups, he sees movie night with four instead of two, he sees the whole damn world where you stand at the very centre of it.

"you're such a natural, look reed," sue calls her husband over with excitement. reed abandons his male counterparts and comes to her side immediately, as she leans into his hold and sighs out in relief, "she's a baby whisperer," sue whispers in awe, slight fear of ruining her child's rare moment of peace lingering in the air. the world spins lightly but johnny is still heaven struck in his spot opposite you.

"literally an angel, heaven sent above," reed commends and you flush under their praise. being liked by johnny's family was something you took so seriously and you took pride in the efforts its taken for you to feel like one of them. "you know, if you ever want to watch him, please do," reed asks slyly and sue elbows him in return, shooting you a look of apology then leaning in close and murmuring.

"no seriously, please do. lord knows i haven't had some time to even sleep lately," she rubs at her temples and you smile in understanding.

"if you guys ever need help, i'm here," you offer, "honestly, whenever, such a cute little guy, how could anyone ever say no?" you gush, tickling his nose and your lover arrives at your side in an instant.

"you better be talking about me," he scoffs but abandons his persona once he sets eyes on his nephew, coo'ing and booping his nose gently. he comes from behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle, mindful of the baby at your side and rests his head on your opposite shoulder.

"johnny boy has competition," ben teases and johnny flips him off away from the baby's line of view.

there's an overlap of johnny's confident "please, you think i can't take him?" and your high pitched baby voice tickling their soft skin with a "there's no competition, this little fella takes it all, don't you? aw" and johnny pulls back in feign outrage, gasping at your so obvious favouritism.

"what?" you smile at him and its enough to heat his blood and melt him to liquid jelly, he's momentarily stunned by your beauty that you bite back the growing laughter, "johnny?" and you wave your free hand in his face.

"mine next please," is all he mumbles, it's half coherent through his drooling mouth and fixed intensity on you that when you hand susan back her child and turn to your boyfriend you place your hands on his heart; searching for his soft thuddering chest and bringing him back to planet earth.

"what?" you stutter, and he has the gall to look confused.

"what?" he echoes.

"what do you mean what?" you press urgently, sure of what you're heard but maybe it's the delusion talking. it very much well could be-

"what do you mean what?"

"oh my god, john- do you know what you just said?" your heart pounds in your chest. each vessel begs for attention, for blood flow to your muscles, pumping all around you and it roars in your ears. you've talked about marriage, you've just about moved in together but kids? kids is a whole different ballpark.

"i want your children- or ours? they'd be ours right?" he asks and you let out a low breath.

"yes johnny, my love but," you pause, bringing your hands to his shoulders and grounding him. "children are little humans, they're not toys-"

"i'm not stupid," he rolls his eyes, "i know you'd look hot pregnant babe, and pregnant with my kid?" he exclaims excitedly and you stare at him. "honey, at some point we are going to have some right?" he meets your patient gaze, as your thoughts try to catch up and align with what you're hearing.

"you've never asked me!" you almost shout.

"i thought it was a given!" he returns, "do you not want my kids-"

"of course i do!" the words leave you quickly with a strong confidence to them, "you just don't mean right now right?" you double check. he sticks his tongue in his cheek in thought, tapping his feet to the ground and hums. its torturous and he does it just to rile you up as you wait patiently. he leans in close, lips brushing the shell of your ear and you close your eyes, soaking in the nearness of him

"i mean if you want to leave early, go home, we could start putting in the work today," its a dangerous tease and when you start to think about it, he knows he has you trapped. you bite your lip and he watches how it drags between your teeth in slow motion and a glint of mischief shines in those beautiful blue eyes of his. he presses a soft touch of a kiss in the corner where your jaw meets your ear, then one lower and catches the bottom of your lobe between his teeth.

"johnny," you mumble, "your family are here," you warn.

"so we leave," he shrugs, "we make one of our own," and the words slip so easily from his lips.

"we're doing things in the wrong order," you break apart and face him. he scoffs,

"fuck the order- i'll marry you and make love to you tonight- two for the price of one," he nods determined and a laughter so loud and bright as the universe bubbles out of you and johnny's world slows to a stop.

"i'm serious sweetheart," he presses your forehead to yours, "i'm all fucking in, and we only do this if you want it," he swears.

"i do want this, but maybe not a child tonight johnny," you admit, "one day, just not today," and he hums in agreement.

"as long as i still get laid tonight," he grins cheekily and its your turn to elbow your lover. he grabs your elbow immediately, lifts you from the ground and twirls you around before wrapping you in a hug where he rests his head in the space above your shoulder- a perfect fit.

"they're good for each other," sue stares fondly at her brother and you, estatic that he's been able to find someone who grounds him, drives him insane and keeps him happy. it's all she's ever wanted; she found her reed and johnny had found you. reed kisses his wife's cheek and murmurs in agreement, family really is what you make it.

riya saying hi: ugh domesticated johnny storm sign me tf UP ‼️‼️‼️ working on a longer fic which i hopefully might get out in the next few days but other than that, i hope you like, hope you love ( i have still not seen the movie yet LOL but i am obsessed w joseph quinn so i feel like that makes up for it ) love u, have a great one wherever this finds you <3

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! 💘

[sinkuna]

୨୧ ― The hotel room door closes with a soft click behind you, the pale light of the moon streaming through floor to ceiling windows.

Nanami had reserved the penthouse suite, ordered champagne that cost more than most people's rent, and even scattered rose petals across the king sized bed like fallen prayers. The man- your now husband, had ensured every detail was perfect for this moment after your wedding.

Because nothing- absolutely nothing, was ever too much when it came to you.

His hands wind around your waist from behind with the same reverence he'd shown sliding the ring onto your fingers hours ago. It was almost like he was memorizing the moment through touch alone. "Mrs. Nanami," he murmurs against your ear, and you feel him smile at the unfamiliar weight of your new name. "My wife," pressing his lips against your neck, the word still foreign on his tongue but sweeter than any bread he's ever had.

You lean into his warmth, the soft fabric of his tuxedo rubbing against the back of your own dress. "Mr. Nanami," you breathe, reaching back to caress his cheek, and you feel him press into you more at the title, his grip on you tightening, "My husband."

His fingers found the delicate zipper at your spine, drawing it down with practiced patience. Each inch of exposed skin received its own blessing- lips, warm breath, soft touches that made you arch against him.

"So beautiful,” he breathes against your vertebrae, "always so beautiful." his breath ghosts over your bare shoulders as the white gown slides away like shed silk... "Perfect," he adds, voice hitching as the fabric pools at your feet in waves of ivory and lace, leaving you in nothing but intricate lingerie. The garter belt sits high on your thigh- his gift to you, adorned with a diamond that matches the one on your finger. 

Turning you in his arms, "Gorgeous," his lips find yours in a sweet kiss, hands tracing your jaw, "Stunning," he whispers, cupping the nape of your neck as he draws you deeper, tongue coaxing a quiet moan from your lips… "All mine." he says with a low growl. All these words heavy with the weight of a man who's never been careless with language. When Nanami Kento calls you beautiful, gorgeous, stunning... perfect, it's because he's catalogued every detail that makes them true.

And it was all reserved just for you. Only for you.

Your hands reach up to push the jacket from his shoulders, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt- needy and impatient until he caught your hands. "Slowly," he commanded gently, "we have all night."

His mouth traced the column of your throat, pausing at your pulse point to feel your heart racing. "I love how responsive you are," he murmured, teeth grazing your collarbone, "how you tremble when I touch you here..." his thumb traced your nipple through delicate white lace… "How you make those little sounds..."

A soft moan escaped as he took the lace covered peak between his teeth, rolling gently until your knees buckled.

"That sound," he groaned, steadying you against his chest, "I'm going to spend tonight learning all the new ones you'll make as my wife."

"Mmph~ K-Kento~ oh god I-"

"Shhh, I'll take care of you," he promises, fingers ghosting along the lacy edge of your panties, "just like I always do, only this time..." his thumb rubs circles through the thin fabric of your thong, a teasing pressure against the bundle of nerves that has you moaning and rocking against his hand, "i think i'll make sure this whole building knows you're Mrs. Nanami now."

His strong arms hook beneath your legs, lifting you effortlessly to settle you among the rose petals. The bed dipping under his knee as he follows, hovering over you like a man worshipping at an altar, fingers caressing your face as he takes a moment to simply admire the picture you make- sprawled out beneath him. 

"I love you," the words barely audible as he leans down, lips finding the delicate skin of your inner thigh, teeth grazing the delicate skin, "so much." Your back arches involuntarily as he finds the diamond adorning the middle of your garter, giving it a flick with his tongue before tracing the silk band with calloused fingers. "I'm so glad you didn't toss this earlier," he admits... "When you told everyone you were keeping it... I was relieved you wanted to skip that particular tradition."

The diamond catches in the moonlight as you bite your lip, a sweet smile playing at the corners of your mouth, "Well~ I was thinking," you card your fingers through his styled hair, mussing the soft strands, "maybe I could wear just this when you come home from work from now on."

His eyes snap to yours, "Don't," his tone serious- the careful control he's maintained all evening fracturing at your words... "Don't tell me things like that unless you want me taking extended lunch breaks to come home… I don't think I'd be able to control myself if you did." he confesses, and the honesty in his voice has your heart skipping a beat, "I barely manage now."

Without breaking eye contact, he catches the garter between his teeth, his lips grazing your skin as he drags it achingly slow down your thigh, "do you know how many nights I’ve dreamed of you greeting me at the door wearing nothing but this?" With a final tug, he slips the garter free, letting it dangle from his mouth before tossing it aside with a smirk.

"K-Kento please~" You squirm under his heated gaze, thighs squeezing together, trying to relieve the throbbing ache between your legs, but the action only makes it worse… "Please don't tease me tonight. I can't-"

"Please what, darling?" a lock of his hair falls in his eyes, "Tell your husband what you need." He runs his hands up the back of your thighs, lifting and spreading them apart. The sight of his head between your legs, looking up at you from beneath the fall of his hair has you biting the inside of your cheek...

"Please~" the word barely a whisper, "M'need you, Kento. Need my husband to make a mess of me hah~"

Your words dissolve as he removes your lace thing- his mouth finding you bare and fucking soaked, "God," he groans against you, tongue swiping at your slick folds. 

He devours you like communion wine, like salvation itself, tongue fucking into your entrance, a thumb circling the small bud above.

"Nghhh fuck~" Your eyes squeeze shut, the pressure building, hips rolling to meet his tongue, your juices covering his chin.

"So sweet," he groans, the words muffled against your pussy, the vibration making you buck against him, "I could savor you all night."

With that he rises up, mouth leaving you empty and aching, his hands pinning your hips to the bed, "But I think i'll save the rest of my appetizer for later." He smirks down at you, wiping the remnants of your slick off his chin with the back of his hand.

Slowly, he reaches down to unbuckle his belt, pulling it free in a single motion, "Put your arms above your head, love," he orders softly, watching as you obey without question, a soft gasp escaping when he catches both your wrists, securing them with his belt. "This is my wedding night as well, after all…" securing the leather strap around the frame of the headboard, "And I intend to take my time with you."

Your fingers curl around the smooth leather, testing the bindings as his cock springs free, precum already pearling at the tip. The head is flushed, straining, and aching to be buried in your heat.

"Fuck-," he groans, hand gripping the base, thumb sweeping his weeping slit, "you have no idea what you do to me."

He positions himself between your thighs, the thick head of his cock teasing your entrance, sliding along your wet folds, the tip catching your clit, and then he's sinking into you, a strangled groan torn from his throat as you wrap around him like a vice.

Each thrust has the bedframe creaking as he fills you completely, perfectly, his cock stretching you just right. His forehead rests against yours, breath mingling as you move together, the only sounds in the room are the obscene sounds of your joined bodies, your broken cries, his grunts of pleasure.

"Ah! Mnnnh Kento~" You writhe beneath him, tugging at the restraints, body arching and straining for release, but the position keeps you helpless, a moaning wreck, pinned and bound by his cock, his weight, his strength.

"Harder~" The word slips out before you can stop it, and you feel him still above you.

"Are you certain?" His voice carries an edge now, something darker lurking beneath the tenderness.

"Please, Kento. I need… I need you to fuck me. M’need my husband to make me scream~."

The change is immediate. Your sweet gentle Nanami, replaced by his more desperate… pent up, and demanding side- god you loved it when he got like this~. His thrusts become punishing, deep enough to make you see stars- head so dizzy it causes you to babble incoherently. And his words… oh, his words turn absolutely filthy.

"This what my precious wife needs?" he rasps, breath hot against your throat as his cock drives deep, "Her loving husband splitting this perfect pussy open, making her beg for more like a whore."

The headboard rocks against the wall as he thrusts into you, one hand fisted in your hair, the other gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks. "Look how you're taking it," he pants, voice breaking, "Greedy little thing swallowing my cock. You're dripping all over the sheets, darling."

When he pulls out he’s quickly undoing his belt from your wrists- flipping you onto your stomach hastily as you whimper at the sudden emptiness. But then he's slamming back into you from behind, the new angle making you scream into the pillows.

"That's it," he groans, watching as that pretty pussy of yours grips him each time he withdraws, "let the whole hotel hear how good your husband fucks you. Let them know how desperate- how hungry you are for my cock."

His hand comes down on your ass with a brutal crack, making you clench and gush around him. "You like that, don't you? My beautiful wife likes being spanked while she gets her pussy destroyed from behind."

"Y-yesss! Oh god, yesss!" you babble, drool pooling at the corner of your lips as you're fucked senseless- eyes rolling back, "I love it when you ahhhh! when you use me like this!" Your voice breaks into needy whimpers, pussy clenching desperately around his length as he pounds into you, "Yesyesyes! Fuck me harder!"

He sets a brutal pace, each thrust hitting that spot deep inside that makes your vision white out, your body trembling as you lose yourself completely to the sensation. "Please," you moan, saliva dripping from your parted lips, "don't stop... m’need it so bad... need your cock so f’hah- fucking deep..."

"Going to stuff you so full," he growls against your ear, teeth sinking into your shoulder, "give you everything until you’re overflowing with it… until your belly swells with it..."

His movements stutter for just a heartbeat- eyes widening in shock at what he'd just said… Until your belly swells... Did he really just confess he wants to make a child with you tonight? The admission sends a shock through his system even as his cock throbs harder at the thought.

"I- …," he breathes shakily, almost stunned by his own desperate need. But there's no taking it back now… the raw truth is out.

"D-do it~" you coo breathlessly, the words sending a shiver of pure want down his spine. Your fingers push back his hair, holding him close, and the way you look at him... The sheer amount of adoration and love in your eyes, it nearly steals his breath away. You are the light of his life...

His thrusts become erratic, sloppy, each one driven by that new need to create something precious- a son, a daughter… either or it didn’t matter.

"Look at me," he gasps, his voice breaking. "I want to see your face when I- ngh-"

Your eyes lock as his control finally snaps. With a broken moan of your name, Nanami buries himself to the hilt and releases. Hot sticky ropes of cum flood your womb, painting your inner walls white as he empties himself completely. Your own orgasm washing over you from the fullness of him, your pussy clenching and milking every last drop from his throbbing cock.

Afterward, you lie tangled together, skin slick with sweat and cum. He holds you close, pressing soft kisses to your neck as you both slowly return to earth, his cum slowly leaking out of your thoroughly used pussy.

Later, much later, dawn creeps through silk curtains to find Nanami already awake, memorizing the sight of you sleeping peacefully beside him. His thumb traces over your wedding ring, this symbol of a future he never dared imagine…

"Wife," he whispers to himself, the word starting to sound less foreign.

Husband…

Thats what he is now.

And someday, perhaps sooner than later… A father.

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, marveling at you- this woman who chose him, who said yes to forever with a man who once thought love was a luxury- the only luxury he thought he couldn’t afford in his dangerous line of work. Now he knew this, it was the only wealth that mattered… and he was the richest man alive.

˚₊‧꒰ა. 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[nanamisgirly]

taking a shower is impossible ྀི

“suguru…”

you're bare, pressed against your very much naked husband under hot water, and all you want is to scrub your scalp peacefully. not to be pinned against his chest, which—yes, feels divine—but is not helping your situation.

“you always do this,” you sigh, smiling despite yourself.

“well, it's important isn't it? bonding with your wife, not letting the flame die between us.” he leans down, nose brushing yours.

“suguru, we just had sex this morning. i just wanna wash my hair, you're making this impossible…” his hands move up your sides, then down again, sliding over the curve of your hips. he just never stops. “you know i can't wash properly when you're stuck to me like this,” you mumble, trying and failing to tilt back.

water rushes over your shoulders, geto doesn't bother budge an inch—he only reaches behind you to grab his shampoo, “then let me do it.” he says not letting you protest as he squeezes the bottle, letting the luxury spill into his palm. “y'know mine's better anyway.”

“i don't wanna smell like cologne,” you mumble under your breath, your nose scrunching. it wasn't unusual for your husband to shampoo your hair—or to sneak his fancy products into your routine—but it was always funnier when he didn't know. not like he cared, he loooves when you smell like him. plus, the man had long, thick, silky black hair—any woman would sell her soul for strands like his—so it was only fair, right?

he clicks his tongue, “it's sandalwood and vanilla." he insists, “it's classy. it's sensual. it's the reason old ladies flirt with me at the farmer's market.”

you roll your eyes. “because your hair's shiny and look like a myth.”

“and i fuck like one.” he winks, all smugness and sin.

“suguru.” you try to scold, pinching his nipple barbells. he lets out a dramatic squeal that turn into a laugh. his smile falters just slightly as his soapy fingers start to scrub your scalp. 

and it was all cute and tease until you feel it—his cock twitches, pinned between your matching belly piercings. (a stupid VERY IMPORTANT detail you both got on a trip years ago—his dark stud with your initial and yours, a delicate charm that curves to match his.)

“every time,” you whisper “you say it’s about hair, and every time, you get hard five seconds in.”

“correction,” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. “i’m hard before we step in. this just… makes it worse.”

his hands drift—long fingers sliding down the back of your neck, down your spine, until he’s grabbing a handful of your ass with a soaked slap. you squeak. “sugu—!”

“shh,” he hums, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth, slow and wet and open. “just let me love you a little. you feel so good like this. so warm, so soft—” he presses his forehead to yours, breath hitching. “…i can’t stop touching you.”

his lips drag to your jaw, nipping gently. he lathers up again, and this time, his hands come to your chest—slippery palms gliding over your breasts like he’s trying to memorize them through touch alone.

“i’m being helpful,” he says too innocently, voice low, soaked in need. “just a loving husband washing his pretty wife.”

“totally normal,” you manage, barely able to breathe.

“perfectly respectful,” he hums, thumbing over your nipples until they pebble, then dipping down to mouth at one—open kisses on wet skin.

“this is—ngh—this is not how showers work.”

“this is exactly how ours work.”

[slut4megantheestallion]

୨୧Sukuna being weirdly infatuated by his human girlfriend (sfw)

cw: fluff, possessive behavior, sukuna being a menace, light darkish yandere undertones, mild language.

It started off with the weird weight of his stare.

You've gotten used to it by now-almost. The way his gaze settles on your sleeping face like a hand, heavy and hot and impossibly still. He watches you like he's dissecting something, like he's trying to unravel you with his eyes. Sometimes, you wake up with a jolt, and he's already leaning over you, arms folded, face unreadable.

"You're twitchy," Sukuna mutters, voice low and scratchy like something old. "Guilty conscience?"

You don't bother answering. You're used to his comments, the way they hover between teasing and threat.

Tonight, though, he's extra... weird. Not in a violent way - those days are specific, intentional, but in that offbeat way he gets when he forgets what being human is like.

He's sitting at the edge of the futon, one hand resting on your thigh. His fingers tap- annoying, steady. When you peek one eye open, you find him already looking down at you. Eyes glowing faintly in the dim room.

"You're not that interesting, y'know," he says.

"Then stop caring," you grumble, voice rough with sleep.

He grins. That slow, unhurried curve of sharp teeth and something more sinister than amusement.

"I could. But then I might miss how stupid your face looks when you sleep." His hands lifts, and suddenly, he's poking your cheek. Hard.

You flinch. "Sukuna-!"

He presses again. Now both fingers, tugging your cheek like you're some stress ball. "You're soft. It's weird. I don't like it," he says flatly, even as he keeps doing it.

You swat at his hand, but he catches your wrist easily, pins it to the bed beside you. His grip is warm - too warm. Heat coils off of him like a furnace, a reminder that he's not like anything that should exist in this world.

"You have so many expressions," he mutters, gaze dragging over your face. "It's exhausting."

"Then leave."

"No." His reply is instant. Lazy but final. "You're mine."

You stare at him, and he just shrugs like it's the most casual statement in the world. Possession, obsession - it's not romantic with him. It's primal. He looks at you like a dragon cluled around treasure it doesn't understand. He doesn't love you the way a man should.

But still... he stays.

His hand slides to your chin, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. He leans closer, like he's trying to memorize the tiny details of your face, skin, the way your lashes flicker with each blink. You feel the slow curl of his breath when he exhales near your mouth.

"I could crush you," he says softly, almost thoughtfully. "Break every part of you and put you back together wrong. You'd still look at me like that."

You don't respond. You're not sure how to respond to something like that.

He tilts his head, studying you. Then, with zero warning, he pinches your nose.

"What the fu-Sukuna!"

"Just checking," he says, snickering. "Wanted to make sure you weren't a corpse. You're so still sometimes."

You roll over, trying to shove your face into the pillow. He let's you, but you can still feel his eyes on the back of your neck. Like the heat of a fire that won't die out

"Go to sleep, freak," you mumble.

"You're calling me a freak?" He laugh, voice echoing in the low-lit silence. "You're the one who sleeps like a baby next to the King of Curses. You've got issues, woman."

His fingers brush a stray strand of hair from your temple. Gentle, too gentle. It doesn't match the way he talks or looks or breathes.

"I could watch you forever," he mutters, barely above a whisper now. "And maybe I will. So don't die on me."

You blink slowly, eyes closing again. There's no real comfort in his words - only a strange, twisted kind of promise.

You drift off, eventually, despite the awareness of his presence. The weight of his stare doesn't fade, but his touch becomes still. He watches.

He always watches.

And even when you sleep, sukuna is still there. Like a curse that chose you.

[rafesgreasycurtainbangs]

topper and kelce accidentally walking in while rafe fucks reader.

❛ INTERRUPTED WHILE RAFE FUCKS YOU ❜

girlfriend¡reader . . . rafe cameron

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Rafe growled, his voice a low, gravelly snarl, dripping with dominance. His hips snapped forward, driving into you hard enough to make the bedframe groan in protest.

“This pussy’s mine, huh? Takin’ me like you were made for it.” His smirk was all teeth, a cocky edge to it that made your stomach flip even as your mind spun from the intensity.

He had you pinned, one hand gripping your thigh so hard his fingers left red imprints, the other braced beside your head on the mattress.

Your legs were splayed wide, trembling as he fucked you with a relentless, punishing rhythm. His cock—thick, hard, and unforgiving—slammed into you with a force that made your whole body jolt.

The wet, lewd slap of skin on skin echoing through the room. Each thrust stretched you open, the head of him dragging against your slick walls, hitting that spot deep inside that turned your moans into broken, desperate cries.

You couldn’t answer—not coherently. Your hands clawed at his back, nails digging into his tanned skin, leaving jagged red lines that only seemed to egg him on. “Rafe—oh fuck, Rafe,” you gasped, your voice splintering as he shifted his angle, his cock plunging deeper, grinding against your cervix.

Your thighs quaked, slick with sweat and the mess of your arousal, your cunt clenching around him so tight it drew a sharp hiss from his lips.

The pressure was building, a hot, coiling ache in your core that had your eyes fluttering shut and your mouth falling open.

He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear as he rasped, “Look at you, fuckin’ wrecked for me.” His tongue flicked out, tracing the shell of your ear before his teeth grazed your lobe, sending a shiver racing down your spine.

His pace was brutal, hips rolling with a precision that was both calculated and wild, like he was trying to imprint himself on every inch of you.

The headboard banged against the wall in time with his thrusts, a steady thump-thump-thump that matched the obscene squelch of your bodies colliding.

Your breasts bounced with each stroke, nipples brushing his chest, sending sparks of heat through you. One of his hands slid up, rough palm cupping your breast, squeezing hard before his fingers pinched your nipple, twisting just enough to make you yelp.

The sting blended with the pleasure, pushing you closer to the edge. “Rafe—I can’t—” you whimpered, your words cutting off as he thrust even harder, the bed creaking louder under the assault.

“Can’t what? Take it? Too fuckin’ bad,” he taunted, his voice thick with pride. His hand slipped between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight, ruthless circles. “You’re gonna cum for me, and I’m gonna feel every damn second of it.”

Your body obeyed before your mind could catch up, the coil snapping as your orgasm hit like a freight train.

Your walls spasmed around him, soaking his cock as you screamed his name, hips bucking wildly beneath him. Your vision blurred, stars exploding behind your eyelids as your nails sank deeper into his shoulders.

Rafe groaned, low and filthy, his thrusts growing sloppy as he chased his own high, still pounding into you through your climax.

“That’s it—fuckin’ perfect,” he muttered, his smirk widening as he watched you fall apart. He was mid-thrust, his cock buried deep, when the door suddenly burst open.

Topper and Kelce stumbled in, their laughter dying on their lips as they froze, eyes bugging out at the sight. You were still trembling, mid-orgasm, your legs spread and Rafe’s hips pressed flush against yours.

The wet sounds of sex hung heavy in the air, unmistakable, as the two of them stood there, jaws dropped.

Your face flushed crimson, mortification crashing over you like a tidal wave. “Oh my God—get out!” you shrieked, scrambling to pull the sheet up over yourself, your hands shaking as you tried to cover your exposed body.

Your voice was high-pitched, panicked, your chest heaving as embarrassment burned through the haze of pleasure.

Rafe, though? He didn’t even flinch. He didn’t stop moving—not right away. He gave one more lazy, deliberate thrust, making sure Topper and Kelce got the full fucking picture, before he turned his head toward them, smirking like the smug bastard he was.

“What? You jealous or somethin’?” he drawled, his tone dripping with arrogance.

His grip tightened on your thigh, keeping you pinned beneath him as he finally stilled, his cock still buried inside you. He glanced down at you, then back at them, his smirk widening.

Topper blinked, hands raised in surrender, a mix of shock and amusement flickering across his face. “Dude—shit, man, we didn’t know! Lock the fuckin’ door!”

Kelce was already backing out, choking on a laugh, his hand over his mouth like he couldn’t believe what he’d just seen. “You’re a dick, Cameron,” he managed, shaking his head as he pulled Topper with him.

The door slammed shut, their muffled voices fading down the hall, and you buried your face in your hands, groaning. “I’m never showing my face again,” you muttered, your voice muffled by your palms, your entire body hot with shame.

Rafe just chuckled, low and dark, leaning down to kiss the side of your neck like nothing had happened. “Relax,” he murmured against your skin, his lips brushing your pulse. “They’re just mad they’ll never get a taste.” His hand slid up your side, possessive and unapologetic, his cock twitching inside you as he added, “You’re still mine, though. Let ‘em fuckin’ watch.”

𓂅 notes ―

return home ⸝⸝

©RAFESGREASYCURTAINBANGS ꪆৎ est. 2025

[27dragons]

Match Your Breath to Mine

Chapter 7: Year 2: Winter Break - Some wounds never heal

Jayce squinted down at his phone, then twisted around in his desk chair.

On the other side of the room, Viktor was muttering at his computer as he worked his way through a problem set for one of his classes.

"Hey, Vik, you're coming home with me for Snowdown again, right?"

Viktor glanced up, and Jayce could almost see the numbers and equations and graphs slowly clearing from his vision as he blinked. "If your mother will allow it, that would be kind."

Jayce scoffed. "Please. She's more excited to see you than she is me."

Viktor's lip curled, just a little. "Well, she has seen you more recently."

Jayce rolled his eyes. "Anyway she's pestering me to ask what kinds of traditions you have in Zaun so she can prepare. Neither of us could find anything online."

"Eh, there is no need." Viktor waved dismissively and went back to his homework.

Jayce got up to go loom over him. "Viktor. I'm not going to try to tell my mom not to do something for you. That's crazy talk."

"Why does she not just ask me?" Viktor had been texting Jayce's mom all semester, something about a friend of his who was trying to find a job in Piltover. "I will be happy to tell her not to do anything."

"Yeah, that's probably why she's not asking you," Jayce said.

.

Read the rest on AO3!

[qardenofeden]

you cheer and clap from the stands as atsumu miya secures the last point of the game, finishing the set and winning the match for his team. the crowd roars, his school’s chant echoing throughout the venue. atsumu’s teammates pool around him as they celebrate their win, the boys forming a circle within themselves.

but his mind is occupied with the pretty girl he sees in the corner of his eye— you. he pulls away, muttering a quick “give me a second” to no one in particular.

he walks to you, head held high and he can’t help but puff his chest and shoulders a little bit. just a little.

“what’s a girl like you doin’ all alone?” he asks, and some of his teammates a few feet away yell. honestly, you’re not even sure if they’re cheering him on or booing him, but you do hear a whistle from behind.

light breaths of air escape your lips as you giggle, “i’m here for my boyfriend.”

and he scoffs, the smug bastard. “i don’t see him anywhere. looks like you’re all mine for tonight.” calloused hands reach over to you, his arms flexing subtly at the tenseness built up over the game.

“hmm, i don’t know…” you look down, swaying ever so slightly as you put up a bashful pretense.

the blonde laughs, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he traps you in an embrace. “you ‘nd your games,” he says, kissing your forehead.

you squeal and pull away to no avail, his large arms wrapping around you like a blanket. “you started it! ‘tsumu, you’re all sweaty!” you drag out the last syllable, half teasing. it was true, his jersey was halfway wet like he’d been caught in the rain.

“shhh, stop resisting. your boyfriend might see.” atsumu teases, all while continuing to pepper you with kisses. the noise from the crowd and his teammates are blocked out, atsumu’s world limiting itself to you and him only.

a pretty girl and a championship. looks like atsumu’s going home with two victories tonight.

bokuto post-match &&& ushijima post-match

[kiyoomiee]

part one. part two. part three. part four.

boxer!sukuna who’s a menace in and out of the ring. Even with a bit of blood on his face, he didn’t hesitate to wink and point a finger at you when they finally announced that he’s the champion for match.

He didn’t even bother to wait for his heavyweight championship belt, he got out of the ring and went straight to where you were.

boxer!sukuna who forgets that all eyes were on him as he lifted you up and hugged you. The Sukuna, letting everyone see this side of him all because of you.

“I’m so proud of you ‘kuna.” You buried your face on his neck. You were avoiding the blinding lights of camera flashes, getting all red and shy under Sukuna’s hold.

“Sukuna! How do you feel now that you’ve won the championship again?”

“How did you prepare yourself for this season?”

“Are you in a relationship?”

“Sukuna! Tell us something about her!”

The reporters threw questions left and right. But Sukuna only smiled, his eyes still locked on you.

“She’s the girl I’ve been obsessed with for so long, and I plan to make her mine.”

boxer!sukuna who can’t get his hands off of you during his celebratory dinner party. His large palm alternated between touching your thigh and your waist, grinning as he saw you blush.

“Stop it Ryo.” You whispered against his ear when his fingers crept up higher on your thigh.

“Ryo? That’s a new one baby.” Fuck, he loves it when you give him nicknames.

“You’re drunk aren’t you? You’re gonna forget about this in the morning.”

“Not drunk, ‘m just so in love with you.” You saw how his pupils dilated as he stared at your lips.

Weirdly enough, he hasn’t initiated anything more and always stuck with touching you even during your date with him.

You can’t get that day out of your head. Sukuna spared no expense just to make everything perfect. He even reserved an entire restaurant just so he could have you all to himself that night.

“Sukuna, why haven’t you tried to kiss me yet?” You asked as your eyes went from his eyes down to his lips.

Noticing your little act, he licked his lower lip before he answered-

“Because it won’t end with just kissing. Plus, I’m trying to be respectful until you get comfortable with me.” His ears turned red as he looked away.

You did it. You had the Ryōmen Sukuna shy and flustered under your gaze.

“So you don’t want to kiss me?” He looked back at you with a scowl.

“Fuck baby, are you kidding? I wanted to kiss you since the day we met.”

“Hmm, should I let you kiss me though?” You drew circles on his thigh using your nails to tease him.

His hand touched your chin while his other arm captures your waist to pull you closer against him. Then he does something you’d never expect, he begs.

“Please let me kiss you, baby. Been wanting it for so long.”

With your nod of approval, he wasted no time and went straight in. Finally, feeling your lips against his made him groan. You gasped when you felt his hand on your thigh, trying to find the outline of your panties as a payback for teasing him. He used that chance to dive his tongue in your mouth.

Your body felt hot all over. Giving into his touch, you wrapped your arms around his neck as you kissed him back. How you managed to fight back your desire for him for so long, you’d never know.

It was clear that Sukuna savored the feeling of your lips against his so much, that you had to push against his chest just so you could breath.

“Damn you Sukuna, let me breathe.” You panted against him.

Not listening to your words, he gives you a peck one more time and finishes with a chaste kiss against the pulse point under your ear.

“We need to leave.” The urgency in his tone left you confused.

“What? Why?”

“It’s your fault baby. I tried to warn you that it won’t end with a kiss.”

“But it’s your party, we can’t just leave!”

“Trust me, we have to leave or I’ll fucking come in my pants. Plus, the paparazzi already has enough pictures of us kissing.” You were sure the two of you will be in front of the headlines once again.

“But I like kissing you.” You pouted.

“Then let’s go home right now baby. You’ll love me after you spend the night in my bed.”

[robinsgrl]

Rafe with weird girl is a bit more nonchalant and tame compared to JJ with weird girl. he WILL match your freak and that’s a threat and yeah you might be weird but he’s much weirder he makes you shy. YOU.

weird girl masterlist

MDNI 18+

you’re talkative. You’re never not talking someone’s ear off. Most people can’t handle it. Sometimes your own friends need a moment of silence. But never JJ.

you’re laid back on your bed, legs spread open as his face hides between you. “deb deserves so much better. her boyfriend is such an asshole.” you breathe out shakily as he laps at your cunt.

he hums into you, nodding. “she does, mama. much better.” he dives right back in, your fingers threading through his hair.

“yeah, and the weird thing is she doesn’t think she does,” a small moan leaves your lips but you continue. “we tell her all the time. oh! I forgot the worst part! when they were on a break, he came to the store and-and bought condoms. at her register.”

this makes him pull his face from your heat, eyes wide as he looks down at you. “no fucking way.”

You nod, just as exasperated. “yeah, i know, it was fucking crazy” you tell him as you push his head back down

you’ve gone fishing with him and you’re so damn bored. you came to tan but the suns slowly going down and you're sure you’re as tan as you can be. he adds bait one last time and throws it far into the water. your eyes trail on his strong arms that are flexing under the soft hue of the sunset.

you dont even question your thought. you lean over and chomp down onto his bicep. he’s not even phased. “what’s my sunscreen taste like?” he asks as he glances over at you with a pretty smile. it makes your cheeks flush.

“delicious. wanna try mine?” it’s a joke. but you should know better than to joke like that with him. he doesn’t hesitate to drop his rod and rush to you.

a loud laugh leaves you as he tackles you in a hug, making you land on him as he falls to his back on the boat. he’s nipping at your neck, biting and sucking on you. “jj!” you can’t stop the happy laughs that leave you.

“you taste so good, mama!” he trails his lips down to your chest and bites the side of your boob that’s pressing out of your bikini. it doesn’t take long for him to fully take your tit out and bite your pebbled nipple.

“JJ!”

you’re in bed with jj when you realize something. he’s butt naked. “bro, where are your pants?”

“bro, i like letting my balls get air”

“bro, are you clenching your cheeks right now?” You ask with a laugh as you smack his ass. He lets out a fake moan and pushes his ass to you.

“Bro, i loved that. Do it again.” He’s laying on top of you now, feeling his everything against you. Your hands fall to his butt and you easily squish his cheek. “Bro, im getting a boner.”

“Your bro is giving you a boner? Bro, that’s fruity.”

He nuzzles his face into your neck as you keep smacking his naked butt. “Your little butt is so cute” you comment.

“My butt is NOT small”

“Yes, it’s a tiny lil bubble butt”

“There’s nothing tiny about me, mama” you laugh as he rolls his hips into you.

“JJ! Oh my god!” You laugh and try and push him off of you.

Yeah, no one can ever truly grasp JJ’s freak— he leaves you miles behind. Moral of the story…… he wins.

[pureomi]

˚୨୧⋆｡🍓˚ darry rings - are limited to one per lifetime, emphasizing that love should be exclusive and irreplaceable. true love verification ensures each customer can only buy one ring.

includes: itoshi sae! x reader. 0.9k wc. fluff hehe

you are unable to believe the outrageous actions of your boyfriend. this time, his doings were diabolical to the point of no return. “get out!”

you push itoshi sae out the door in a fit of frustration. his sigh is so loud, it feels like it’s echoing in your head, only making your irritation worse.

“this is my bedroom,” he deadpans, as if stating the obvious will reverse his sudden eviction. it doesn’t work. you’re already diving into the duvets with a determined scowl.

“what are you even doing?” he asks, his tone tipping into annoyance. he narrows his eyes when you march a little closer and throw his pillow into his arms.

“you’re sleeping on the couch,” you declare, voice firm, matching his now sour expression. “and actually, that pillow is way too nice. hand it back.”

he blinks, baffled, before the "too nice" pillow is snatched away and replaced with a sad, flat one that looks like it’s seen better days.

sae stares at the new pillow and then at you. this is so absurd, so far removed from the usual luxurious facade of his life, that the ever-composed itoshi sae actually laughs.

“you’re forgetting something,” he says suddenly, catching your wrist and pulling you closer.

“sae! let go!” you yelp, squirming in his grasp.

“are you seriously this upset over that cheap ring?” his tone is somewhere between exasperation and amusement, as if he should've expected such a reaction.

“it doesn’t matter if it was cheap; it was mine!” you hit his chest with a fist, glaring up at him. “and you hid it!”

“because i got you a better one,” he says, his eyebrows raising slightly, as if that explains everything.

“well, you could’ve just said that!” you huff, shoving his arm. “i was freaking out, thinking i lost it!”

"why do you even like that ring so much?" sae asks, pinching the bridge of his nose like he’s debating whether this argument is even worth his energy.

"because you gave it to me in high school!" you snap back, arms crossing dramatically. "i've spent more time with that ring than with you!"

he freezes, the weight of your words sinking in. the usual sharpness in his expression softens, and for a moment, he just looks at you—really looks at you. his gaze lingers on you, quiet and heavy with a mixture of guilt and something unspoken.

it's true. he knows it. he knows just how many times he’s failed to be present for you, how many moments he’s missed, how many nights you’ve spent waiting for him to come back—both physically and emotionally. each time, each goodbye felt like he was leaving behind another piece of you. your glassy eyes were all he would remember during those long flights.

but that's exactly why he's been wanting to do this for a while. because, although he might not make it obvious, itoshi sae is more attentive than you think.

he reaches into his pocket. the movement catches your attention, and when he pulls out a small velvet box, your breath hitches.

“is that...” you begin to question, even though the answer is obvious.

he opens the box, revealing a sleek, elegant darry ring. it gleams under the soft light of the bedroom—intricate, expensive, but graceful instead of loud, the kind of thing only sae could choose.

“i didn’t hide your ring to be an ass,” he says, a rare gentleness lacing his tone. his firm hand captures yours and slides the perfectly fitted ring on your designated finger.

"i wanted you to have something better," he brings your jeweled hand to his lips, pressing a warm kiss. "something worthy of you."

"i wanted to sign my name to you."

you blink, your chest tightening, and before you know it, you're rushing forward to throw your arms around him in an impulsive, tight hug.

"you're an idiot, sae!" you voice, sound coming out teary-eyed.

a moment passes without either of you saying anything. he just holds you tighter, as if making up for every moment he couldn’t be there. then, he chuckles softly, a low, soft sound that fills the space between you.

you pull back just enough to frown up at him, your hands resting on his chest. "you're laughing?!"

sae, with that trademark smirk, tilts his head slightly. "do you like it?" his voice teasing but with that edge of sincerity you know so well.

you scoff, still holding on to his shirt, a little stunned. "are you seriously asking me that right now?" you mumble, though your heart is already swelling.

"i love it," you finally smile, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. "i love it, sae."

he leans forward, the tug of his smile remaining. "yeah?" he inches closer, grabbing you, leaving no room for escape. "how much?"

"so much.." you manage to whisper against his lips before he fully dives in for a kiss.

his lips move gently against yours, tasting the words you just spoke, savoring your happiness. it’s soft and tender, and deliberately slow, as he prefers.

when he finally pulls back, you're left breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. you glance up at him, suddenly shy, feeling a soft blush creeping on you.

"you're still sleeping on the couch," you point and smile, face full of mischief.

sae shrugs, his expression slipping into one of playful indifference. “fine. but you’re joining me.”

before you can even protest, he scoops you up effortlessly, your squeals of protest only providing him amusement as he holds you securely in his arms.

"okay, okay! you can sleep on the bed!"

a/n: me ignoring my 1k wc essay to write a 1k wc sae fic 👍🏼

[sobbingscripter]

Tags: [mlw][mdni][fingering][passionate][ex!fwb][quiet reader][slight breeding kink][light choking][hair pulling][quiet sex][no nudity][nipple play][nipple sucking][promise of pregnancy][low-key right person; wrong time][not proofread because my beta reader's asleep]

"I have a fucking kid and you didn't think to tell me?!"

Dick's voice is low, frustration bleeding into his words and his fingertips dig into his palms, blunt nails leaving crescent indentations in the flesh as he stares down at you.

The worst part is, you look so fucking nonchalant about it too.

Sitting crossed legged on the couch, a mug of steaming hot chocolate cradled in your hands and a plate of cookies resting on the surface of the coffee table. The TV plays one of the older episodes of Keeping Up With The Kardashians, and God, the sight of you so relaxed while watching trashy TV makes Dick falter in his anger.

"How do you know he's yours or even mine?"

You speak, your voice soft and gentle, despite the way your eyes burn with annoyance at the fact that Dick's just.... Standing there, in your space, his suit clinging to him like a second skin in the way it always has.

Dick leans forward, his breath fanning across the surface of your face and he gives you the opportunity to see the stormy rage that swirls in brilliant blue irises, darkened by the sense of betrayal at the fact that you've kept his son from him for so long.

"Because he looks like me. He looks fucking just. Like. Me." Dick grits the words out like they're liquid sulphur, burning his throat on the way out.

Before he lets out a breath, dropping onto the seat beside you and he cards a gloved hand through his hair.

"And he told me I look.... Romani. And proceeded to call me a 'gypsy bastard'."

Your apartment looks different from when he was here last.

Warm, pale blue walls, a dark leather sofa and a bigger TV mounted on the wall. Fuzzy blue throw pillows and the bowl of fruity gummies on the coffee table is a fun new addition, just like the drawings that line the walls of the living room, and clutter on top of the fridge.

On each drawing, Dick can make out the scribbled out 'Mommy And Me', usually in a colour that has no match in the palette and he can't deny the heaviness in his heart when he reads that.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Dick speaks softly, hands moving to carefully remove the mask from his face, tossing it onto the coffee table and he grabs one of the throw pillows, resting it on his face.

You can practically smell his emotions.

Confused, hurt, betrayed. Frustration's a big one though, and you purse your lips.

"I didn't wanna have the 'is it mine' conversation."

You speak so softly, so sweetly and it reminds Dick of how much motherhood's softened you. It reminds him of the way that you'd have pushed him out the window for showing up unannounced, but instead, you're letting him sit on your couch, and you talk.

Not argue.

You just... Talk.

"I'd know he was mine." Dick murmurs. "We were... Exclusive."

The way Dick says it makes you feel like it was more than just occasional hookups, more than the odd movie date that ended with your ankles touching your ears.

The silence between you is comfortable.

The soft pitter-patter of raindrops dropping against your aluminium window, pot plants on the terrace watered so gently and the TV continues to play, although at a much softer pace.

Dick lowers the pillow, looking at you with big, almost teary blue eyes. Eyes framed by long, inky lashes, full brows and striking hues that make you feel like your breath is dying in your throat with every passing second.

"He's beautiful."

Dick's voice is soft.

"A little bit of an asshole, but he's beautiful."

Before you can answer, before you can even fathom properly what Dick's saying, you hear the crack of a door and the shuffle of tiny feet as Riot stumbles into the living room, fists balled and rubbing at his eyes.

"Mommy, my eye." He sniffles, continuing to scratch at his eye before you let out a quiet hum, your hands hooking underneath the little boy's armpits before you tug him onto your lap.

And you open his eye, the sclera just a bit red and you hum softly.

"Dickie, can you put on the light, please?"

Dick doesn't question the nickname, because it makes his heart swell in a way that has him internally screeching, even as he reaches for the overhead lamp and switches it on.

And your lips purse as you blow on Riot's eye, watching the way his lashes flutter and his eyelid twitches before a teary droplet plops down his cheek.

And you wipe it away, feeling the distinct strand of cat fur against the pad of your thumb.

"We don't even own a cat." You mumble, before using your index knuckle to wipe the watery eye.

"All better?" You muse softly and Riot nods his head, before glancing at Dick with sleepy eyes, lashes fluttering even as he clambers across your lap, and into Dick's.

And his tiny arms wrap around as much of Dick's midsection as he can, his chubby and rosy cheek pressed against Dick's chest.

And the man's expression crumples.

Brows twitch and eyes begin to sting as one of his long fingered hands move to rest on Riot's back, feeling the soft fabric of his pajamas through the glove. And Riot lets out a content sigh.

"Deadbeat gypsy." The words are muffled, but they're audible enough for Dick's lips to part in shock, brows raising before letting out a bark of laughter.

Before he glances at you.

"He's just like you." Dick murmurs, before watching as Riot climbs from his lap, and heading back to his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

There's a still silence in the air, only filled by the sound of Kim's voice and rain droplets crashing down outside before Dick clears his throat.

"My— uh...— my patrol ended early." He murmurs softly.

"Do you wanna watch a movie?"

The way you're slot under Dick's bicep, your head against his chest and your legs tossed across his lap makes him feel 4 seconds away from crashing out. Because God, you're so warm and so much softer.

Dick stares unabashedly at the way your plush thighs brush against his when you shift to make yourself comfortable, he feels the way heavier breasts push against his side as you snuggle closer, before ultimately decided to pull the quilt over the both of you.

Your eyes remain glued to the TV, occasionally letting out snorts of laughter as you watch Grown Ups for what you could guess would be the 60th time on your lifetime.

But you can feel Dick's eyes.

Following the curve of your face, watching the way your lashes fan out and watching the way breaths leave your soft, glossy lips. And before Dick can even fathom it, his arm behind you is shifting, hand moving to wrap around your neck, long fingers stretching effortlessly and he brushes his thumb along your pulse, the action causing your head to tilt up and you meet his gaze.

And Dick's lips are pressed against yours, his fingers twitching against your neck before leaving the column of your throat, instead, shifting until you're resting back against the sofa.

You can't refuse. Well shit, you don't want to refuse.

Dick's kissing you like he's dying tomorrow. Lips pressed against yours, his hips nestled between your thighs and his arm moving to support his weight, elbow braced on the armrest above your head, and his other hand cradling your face.

His thumb strokes along the soft skin of your cheek, his hips pushed against yours and his tongue brushing along yours, but his movements stutter when your thighs wrap around his waist, arms around his neck and bringing him down to deepen the kiss.

Dick swears he sees heaven when your fingers card through his hair in that way.

Starting right at the nape of his neck, before dragging those manicured nails, up up up, before they disappear beneath silky raven strands and he sighs into the kiss, before pulling away.

Dilated pupils, and heavy breaths are exchanged between the two of you, and Dick swallows hard.

"Is he a heavy sleeper?" Dick whispers softly, gaze darting towards the bedroom he saw Riot disappear into and you nod your head.

"He is but you're pretty loud." You tease softly and Dick pushes his hips into yours, his bulge prominent beneath his suit and you can feel the way his tip brushes against your clit, even through the layers of fabric between you.

Dick always could find it in record time.

"Fair point." Dick whispers softly, a breathy laugh slipping past his lips, just a bit reddened from the intense kiss and he speaks again.

"But you never were loud."

Two digits bully their way into your cunt, your shorts and panties tugged to the side and Dick's lips are pressed against yours, muffling any sound you could even think of letting escape from your lips.

His tongue is buried in your mouth, thumb rubbing sloppy circles against your throbbing clit and your nails dig into Dick's biceps when he prods at a particularly sensitive spot. Your lashes flutter, and you take a shaky breath when Dick's fingers curl, his glove abandoned on the surface of the coffee table, and Dick pulls away from you, a thin, glossy string of saliva between the two of you before it ultimately breaks.

Landing across your chin and he giggles.

The man fucking giggles, as he uses his free hand to wipe away the mess, before ultimately moving your hair out of your face, staring down at you with pretty, big eyes that look at you so adoringly.

"You're so pretty." Dick murmurs softly, pressing a peck to your lips as he stares at you.

And fuck, you are.

Pretty eyes fanned by long lashes, perfect eyebrows and rosy cheeks, wet and parted lips (both pairs), and a few strands of hair clings to the thin sweat on your forehead and Dick sighs softly.

You're perfectly spread out too.

Hands gripping at him like you're scared he'll disappear, thighs spread messily and your panties and shorts tugged aside. Gummy walls thrum around his digits, pulsing at the intrusion and all he does is he continues to tease your clit, the rough pad of his thumb circling the sensitive and swollen nub as he continues to look at you with those heart eyes.

"Can I take you out tomorrow?" Dick's question is unexpected but he can't lie and say he hasn't been thinking about it since he saw you.

Plush, squishy, and so soft.

And he'd do anything to see you pregnant.

To watch you move around in oversized shirts, a belly swollen and heavy breasts that he could tease because they're just so sensitive and pretty.

And God, he can't even imagine the way your perfect, plump pussy would look, nestled between even rounder thighs, clit completely hidden until he uses his thumbs to spread the lips.

Dick swallows.

Hard.

And he doesn't even notice that his fingers begin to move, curling and prodding, nudging at that little fleshy spot that has your toes curling in your mismatched socks and your nails dig into his forearms.

And Dick remembers just what a sight you are when you come.

Brows pinching into the cutest little frown, lips forming a little 'o' and that gasp that leaves you has him leaking in his suit and he's so glad it's dark.

"That's it, princess, come on my fingers." Dick coos softly. "Use my fingers to make your pretty pussy feel good."

Your eyes roll back, you hide your face in your shoulder and your body freezes, the only movement being the rhythmic spasm of your cunt around his fingers.

His stupidly long, incessant fingers that keep dragging out your orgasm even as you nod your head, a silent answer to his prior question.

And Dick gleams, dimples in his cheeks and brilliant blue eyes lighting up in a way that can only be described as cosmic.

Blue eyes flecked with silvery stars and the gleam of the moon, dilated pupils and pretty lashes and Dick nods.

"Okay." He breathes out. "We're gonna go to the museum, okay? He's a little artist so I think he'd like looking at the paintings?"

You nod meekly, chest still heaving even when you watch as Dick licks his fingers, cleaning them up like he's just licking syrup from his fingers. His long tongue swivels around his digits before he carefully tugs up the fabric of your T-shirt, exposing your torso to the cold air.

Perfect tits, dotted with pebbled nipples and Dick swallows.

He never thought he'd be someone to have a kid out of wedlock but fuck, is he happy to be your baby daddy.

"Come on, princess." Dick hums sweetly. "Let me worship those pretty fucking tits before I leave."

Dick leans down, breath fanning across your chest before his tongue drags along one of your sensitive nipples, and he watches the way your face screws up, biting your bottom lip to stifle any sounds.

And you look at Dick from beneath your lashes, bleary eyes and rosy lips and he groans low.

A rumble in his chest that has your needy pussy pushing out a trickle of slick.

"Keep looking at me like that and I'll get you pregnant again." His lips latch onto the sensitive nub, his free hand moving to palm your other breast, thumb brushing over your nipple.

"Fuck that, I'll get you pregnant anyway."

Taglist:

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[bodhiscurls]

love isn't earned, it's given. ( johnny storm )

where johnny storm also has bad days and needs your comfort even when he doesn't know how to ask for it. cue comfort bath time as you wash away his worries and his bloody hair and remind him of all the reasons he's deserving of love especially when he can't find it in him to believe it.

human torch! johnny storm x fem! reader

themes: fluff, minor angst to comfort, mentions of insecurities- not feeling good enough etc. johnny needing a fat hug after a long day of being a superhero, lots of reassurance/ affirmations at bath time, nothing sexual just like cutely intimate.

masterlist. (queued!)

"you should go, i'm uh, i'm not much fun tonight, doll," the voice rumbles, almost with defeat like it's taken him the last of his energy to speak so much that he doesn't even look up from you from his position.

he's still in his fight suit, the white and blue branded onto his skin and you press your lips in a fine line, his gaze lowered into his lap somberly but he'd recognise the sound of your footsteps and heartbeat anywhere. a small groan leaves his lips as he drops his head into his hands, hoping to burden off some of this torturous weight but its only when you've abandoned your spot from the bedroom door and stand between his legs, fingers combing through the tangled and bloody knots of his usual blonde hair does he finally let himself fall.

though he just hates to do it at the cost of you checking in his baggage.

you pull your fingers back, wincing at the stickiness and red liquid still fresh, "you're not hurt are you?" you whisper as his head buries into your stomach.

"not mine," he mumbles, exhaustion and something dangerously close to sadness laced in his usual light-hearted voice, like the weight of tonight has dragged him down a few octaves. you nod, taking that as answer enough and wrap your arms around his neck as you tower over him.

it doesn't come immediately, but when it does it splits open your heart into two; bleeding from the edges of all the chambers you've allocated to loving johnny storm. it's ironic at how the heat, amplified by his heavy emotions tonight, freezes your blood cold at the sound of his soft cries.

its a sniffle, then a choke like he's trying to swallow up the sadness that's consuming him whole and you stroke his hair so tenderly that he breaks down completely. it's messy, heart-wrenching the way he whimpers out "i could've done more," and you don't silence him. you let him get out all the words that are weighing in on his chest/ he needs this guttural relief. and so you just bend your back and twist your form so you're crouched at his level as he reaches for you in a bone-crushing hug, baring all his weight onto you that you almost send the two of you flying back for a second.

his arms are wrapped so tightly around your back, his face pressed into your neck, the tears raw and fresh as they stick to your skin and you hold him for what feels like forever; and you'd do it for however long as he needs. he holds you with such force that he's sure the grip will mould back all the broken pieces and keep him whole again.

"johnny, my beautiful boy," you whisper into his hair, "let's get you cleaned up," your brows lift in reassurance and he just shakes his head, clings to you further.

"i just need a minute more," he chokes and you hum softly, stroking the hairs at the back of his neck and drumming a soft beat on his back; you're trying to match his pulse, regulate his breathing and give him something other than the overwhelming emotions to focus on. and it works you think, his eyes are still tightly shut but his breath becomes softer albeit a little ragged for wear and tear, but comes a lot more frequent enough for you to shed a layer of concern.

he pulls back makes an effort to stand that you match and presses his forehead to yours, swallowing the salt that has made home on his lips from all tears formed- from all the blood he's spilt tonight. "i'll uh, get cleaned up and then i'll take the couch," his voice small and gruff, like he isn't sure what to do with himself after reaching the most vulnerable he's ever felt but he's sure he doesn't want his negative energy to ruin the sacred ambiance of your bedroom; of the love you've built and shared here.

"what?" and the laughter that leaves your lips is not cruel, just a confused breathless slip.

"you've done enough, seriously baby, i can't- i love you so much, i don't want to bring this version of me to bed tonight, i'll take the couch, i uh-" and you press your lips to his, melting into his embrace as he returns the kiss easily. his hands find themselves at home on your waist as your own cups his jaw, directing him into you and it distracts him, puts his mind to ease and rest and when you pull apart you shake your head softly.

"johnny baby," and he murmurs at the sound of it, "we're going to get you cleaned up, and when we're finished if you still want to take the couch then i'm coming with, though i would just prefer if we slept in our bed," and you press your fingers to his lips, silencing him when he tries to argue his way out again.

"baby, i'm not me tonight," he breathes out, "and i don't want to you to see this side of me, i just can't- this johnny isn't deserving of you," and you freeze, silent fury buzzing off of you- not at johnny, but at the world for making him feel so inferior and less than the marvel he is.

"i'm going to stop you there hotstuff," and its all seriousness in the tone you lay on him, "if you want space, i will give you that- but if you're running away from me- from us? johnny storm i think that's ridiculous," you scoff, and he shys away the sound of his full name- he'd much rather prefer you call him hotstuff again, "you're deserving of love johnny- love isn't earned, it's given. you don't need to perform or be a certain way to receive it and johnny storm you are perfect my love- every single version of you and i'm honoured to love you, to share this home with you- and that doesn't stop because of a bad day," you breathe, "i'm here baby, whatevers weighing you down you can put it all on me, i might not be out there on the battlefield but i'm here my love, we're a team and we do this together,"

another cry leaves his lips, quieter than the ones from earlier but the tears still land the same, the rip and roar in his mind still feels the same and he lets himself break in your arms again, and deeper. you soothe him, whisper affirmations and love into his skin and when the cries die down, he lets you lead him to the bathroom.

it's dark and he uses whatever little energy he can muster to light up the room, and you look over in concern. the water runs in the bath and as you work your way around him, he sits slumped on the edge of it.

"johnny baby come on," you whisper and help wrestle him out of his costume- it clings to him in sweat, blood and tears and right now, once it lands at his feet and he stands bare and bruised, it feels like a relief- like the shackles have been freed from his wrists and heart. johnny is no stranger to responsibility but tonight? it caged him as a prisoner and you've slowly given him the key to escape.

"you know, it usually goes a lot different than this," he tries to joke as you press a kiss to his bare chest and then help him get into the warm tub. the water relaxes him instantly, soaking around his muscles, loosening the tension as you start to help him scrub down.

"well usually, you don't smell do bad," you tease and a light laugh, slightly strained escapes from his lungs and dances in the peaceful night air. he murmurs in agreement, taking the washcloth from you and reaching the spots you can't whilst he feels your fingers in his hair.

the rich smell of coconut lingers as you massage it gently into his strands, tugging at the locks that present the most tension, drifting it through your fingers and rinsing clear; satisfied when the dirty brown and faded red shines transparent. from his hair to the back of his nape you begin to slowly massage; lessing the burdens embedded in his skin, the dimples in his back and ridges of his muscular form.

he groans, sighs in relief and delight as you work your way around him. you pause for a moment, getting up to drain the dirty contents of the bath, supply fresh water and clear up the clutter of toiletries blocking the way when he catches your wrist, bringing it the side of his face to where you cup his cheek and he presses a small kiss to your palm.

"join me, please?" he asks, his vulnerability so tender and heartwrenching that you obey, undressing and climbing in. he makes space for you to sit between his legs, your cool back refreshing against his burning chest and you lean into his hold. his arms wrap around your middle as the soapy suds begin to attach themselves to your bare skin.

"i'm not hurting you, am i?" you ask

"no, doll," he drawls into your skin as he plants a soft kiss to the curve of your shoulder.

"no seriously johnny, you'll tell me if its hurting right?"

"of course i will honey, but i think that's your super power huh- you just know when things are wrong," he bites his lip down. its quiet as you sit there in his hold, the soft slushing of water around you as you listen for his hearbeat, it slows lightly an you take it as an inclination that he's tired, exhaustion taking over. you're about to ask if he's ready to call it a night when you feel his soft whisper tickle at your skin, his words a carress to your heart.

"i'm glad you're safe," it comes, and when you turn to face him he decides to elaborate even more quieter, "there was just too much carnage tonight, i couldn't get to people in time and-" he gasps slowly, as if a painful memory shoots to the surface and he winces, "i just felt so useless like what good is my power if i can't use it enough?" and his voice cracks in ways you don't think you can mend.

"baby," you breathe, "you do more good than almost anyone could ever, you make the world a better place, you fight johnny," a dramatic shift in the air, "even when the fights not yours, when it seems youre outmatched and you feel like you've got nothing left to give, but you still do it- it's not about power johnny- it's about heart and yours is special," he soaks up your words like theyre liquified gold, hoping to burn the assurance into his existence, brand them into a memory to remind him of his worth, "you give hope baby, you're smart, you're funny, you have the best of days and the worst and i love you all the more, but you can't win them all."

"but i can try," he stretches out, the strain tugging his voice down.

"you can baby, all you want, but some things are bigger than the both of us and if you give all yourself to it then you won't come out alive- you won't come home and- i can't let you do that."

"i'll always try to make it home to you, doll." he swears and you know its true more than anything, you trust and believe it with all your soul.

"johnny?" you murmur, "you ready for bed, sweetheart?" and he nods, "please," you give him the sign to stay and wait for you as you get out first, wrapping yourself in a towel before holding out his own for him to step into. you dry, change into some of his clothes and let him waddle you to bed, his tall frame wrapped around like yours in a koala like form. he sleeps on your side tonight, the smell of you lulling him to a good night of rest and he must be absolutely shattered because he doesn't hear the knock that lands at your door at some point or the gentle pull of your limbs as you detach yourself from his spooning to respond.

the floor is cool beneath your bare feet as you stretch the door back a few milimetres and the familiar pair of ocean blue eyes you've known and loved meets your gaze.

"hi," sue speaks quietly and you send her a warm smile, "i know it's late, sorry but i just wanted to check in," she bites her lip, "he had a rough night- we all did but, johnny takes things a little differently, i suppose he's used to being the funny, carefree guy that he forgets he's human too," she leans against the doorframe. you open it wider, giving her a full view of her younger brother who sleeps soundly buried and bundled all the sheets of your bed and she smiles.

"he'll be okay," you reassure, "he's human afterall," you tease and she chuckles lightly. johnny storm who thinks he can save the whole world and burn for it without so much of a thought, he's special.

"he has you," she places a hand on your shoulder in comfort before wrapping you in a hug, "thank you," and for the third time this night, a storm sibling has trusted you enough to let their tears free fall in your orbit. you rub her back gently, just as you did for her brother previously before pulling away.

"he mentioned you earlier, i think he thought we were too far deep and he was so scared- he said to make sure that you knew how much he loved you and-" her voice cuts off as the emotion catches up with her, "i'm sorry," she grows quieter, "it's late, i should leave you-"

"sue," your voice lands firm, "thank you for taking care of him out there and bringing him home, it means more than you could ever know," and she melts at the sincerity.

"always," she promises, presses a kiss to your cheek goodnight and heads back in the direction of her room. you linger for a moment, the thought of johnny so alone and scared worrying you and then you don' thave much time to think about it, because he's murming your name softly, reaching out across the sheets to feel for you and you're there in an instant.

"i'm here baby," you press a kiss to his forehead and he buries his head into your chest as you help hold him together. his soft snores fill the air as you lie awake, toying with hair hair as his breaths stick to your skin.

always.

riya saying hi: hellloooooo johnny angst to comfort let me hear you say hell yeah ‼️‼️‼️ finally saw the movie and joseph quinn brought him to life so incredibly well like he's not comedic relief- he's funny but he's smart, he offers to sacrifice himself, he's loyal, he's the fucking world and he deserves to know it !!! this has been queued so idk if anyone will like this as much as ive had fun writing it- let me know what you think! my notifs can get insanely crazy but i do stalk through them and i love hearing you have to say. take care! and see you soon! sending my love! 💘💘💘

[cei1ne]

—MHA men reaction to you asking them to step out so you can change!

☙◦♔◦☙◦Summary: You ask your husband/boyfriends/fiancé to step out so you can change and their reactions are to say… quite funny.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader ; Kirishima Eijiro x f!reader x Denki Kaminari x f!reader x Sero Hanta x f!reader

꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚Tags: Cute ; Funny ; Prank ; irritation; MHA ; Couple

─⊹⊱✫⊰⊹Word-count: Idk about 8k?

✩.･*:｡A/N: Guys I know I feed you very little but I’m sorry!! I’m on vacaca rnnn and I’m enjoying it babes but I’m trying my best to fix C.ai bots and post at least once! Part 2 is getting ready rn! Enjoy xx

Part 2!!!

❀•°•════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ════•°•❀

Bakugou Katsuki — “You Want Me to What?”

Sundays with Bakugou were sacred.

No early alarms. No patrols. Just the hum of the washing machine, the faint smell of breakfast lingering in the air, and Bakugou walking around shirtless with low-slung sweatpants while folding laundry like a man on a mission.

You were still curled up in bed, watching him struggle to pair socks with an intensity like he was disarming a bomb.

“These things multiply in the damn dryer,” he muttered, tossing another rogue black sock into the pile.

“You know, if you stopped wearing fifty shades of black, you might find matches easier,” you teased.

He shot you a mock glare. “You’re one to talk. You own twelve versions of the same hoodie.”

You grinned. “Yeah. But I don’t lose them to the void.”

Bakugou grumbled under his breath, tugging a fitted tee over his head. You watched his muscles flex under the fabric and couldn’t help the little idea that sparked in your brain.

Time to test his pride a little.

You stretched out with a dramatic yawn, then said casually, “Hey, babe? Can you step out for a second while I change?”

He froze.

Dead still.

Then slowly turned to look at you, blinking like you’d just spoken another language. “You want me to what?”

“Just for a second!” you laughed. “So I can change. Alone.”

His jaw twitched.

“We live together.”

“I know.”

“You’ve literally let me wash in between your pussy lips and ass crack after we had sex.”

“Yup.”

“So why the hell—”

You cut in innocently. “I’m shy.”

He stared at you for a long beat. “You’re messing with me.”

“Maybe,” you said sweetly, sitting up straighter. “But if you love me…”

He scoffs but grabs his phone and stands up “You’re ridiculous”

“Thank you!”

“I’m goin’. But only ‘cause I wanna see how far you take this dumbass bit.”

He slammed the door dramatically behind him, muttering curses the whole way. You snorted, barely holding in your laughter as you threw off the blankets and shuffled toward your dresser — still fully dressed.

You gave it a solid minute. Two.

Then crept toward the door to peek through the crack—

But he wasn’t outside.

“Wha—?”

You barely had time to blink before you were yanked back with a yelp. Bakugou had been waiting beside the frame like a gremlin, ambushing you in one swoop and throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Cheater!” you laughed, pounding his back lightly.

“I left. You didn’t say I couldn’t come back and catch you in your lie.”

You were laughing too hard to argue. He carried you back into the bedroom and dropped you onto the bed, crawling over you with a feral grin that made your stomach flip.

“You tryin’ to pull stunts like that?” he growled playfully. “What, you think I’d get all flustered or some shit?”

“A little,” you admitted, biting your lip.

“Too bad I’m not seventeen anymore, princess.”

His hands caged you in as he leaned down, voice lower now. “You’re mine. You can’t prank me with modesty. Not when I’ve helped you outta more shirts than I can count.”

You flushed. “Katsuki—”

“Nah. You started this.”

He brushed a kiss just below your ear — light enough to tease but enough to make your breath hitch.

“Now I gotta remind you who you’re tryin’ to mess with.”

You were fully prepared to tease him back — but his mouth was already on yours, hot and unapologetic. He tasted like cinnamon gum and smugness, tongue sliding past your lips with practiced ease. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t rough. But it was thorough.

He pulled back just a little, eyes glinting. “Still shy, sweetheart?”

You squinted at him, catching your breath. “You’re awful.”

He grinned. “But hot.”

You rolled your eyes. “Unfortunately.”

His fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt. “Y’know, you’re lucky I don’t make you actually change in front of me as punishment.”

You gave him a look. “That’s not a punishment. That’s enabling.”

“Tch.” He grinned, obviously pleased with himself. “Exactly.”

He flopped beside you with a groan, pulling you against his chest.

“You’re a menace,” he muttered, running a hand through your hair.

“You love it.”

“I do.”

You curled into him, heart warm, smile tugging at your lips. There was something so easy about this. Even in the teasing, the banter — there was no tension, no hesitation. Just you and him and years of learning each other’s rhythms.

You glanced up at him, feeling bold again.

“So,” you whispered. “If I asked you to leave so I could change again… what would you do?”

He looked down at you, unimpressed.

“Blow up the hallway.”

You grinned. “Fair.”

Kirishima Eijiro — “You Want Me to Wait Outside?”

It was supposed to be a lazy day.

The two of you had finally gotten a rare shared day off — no patrols, no paperwork, no surprise villain attacks — just a peaceful morning filled with pancakes, a half-watched movie playing in the background, and Eijirou lounging on the couch with his hair still damp from the shower.

You stretched with a yawn, eyeing him from the hallway with a mischievous smirk tugging at your lips. He was practically sparkling, shirtless in plaid pajama pants, glasses sliding down his nose as he flipped through a dog-eared volume of some obscure hero tactics manual.

God, you adored him.

So naturally, it was the perfect time to mess with him.

“Hey, babe?” you called from the bedroom, trying to keep your voice light, innocent.

“Yeah?” he called back, cheerful as ever.

“Can you, um… step out for a sec? I need to change.”

You heard the rustle of paper stop. Silence.

Then—

“…Huh?”

You cleared your throat, keeping up the act. “I just—y’know. Want to change. Alone. So, if you could just wait outside the room for a minute?”

More silence.

Then he appeared in the doorway, glasses pushed up, expression half-confused and half-betrayed.

“Wait outside?” He blinked. “Like… the hallway?”

You nodded, pretending to be sheepish. “Please?”

He tilted his head. “Sweetheart, I’ve literally held your hair back while you threw up on a villain’s boots. You think now’s the time to be shy?”

You bit your lip to suppress a grin. “Just… go along with it.”

Kirishima blinked again. Then slowly, dramatically, stepped back out of the doorway and leaned against the frame like he was being exiled from paradise.

“This is how it starts,” he muttered loud enough for you to hear. “First, she tells me to leave while she changes. Next, she’s locking the bathroom door and calling me ‘sir.’”

You snorted, covering your mouth with your hand.

“I’m just sayin’,” he added, “I thought we were at the stage where I help you get undressed. Not get kicked out for it.”

You threw a pillow at the door. “Shut up!”

“Respectfully!” he called back, dodging it. “But still!”

You held back your laughter for as long as you could, then cracked the door to peek.

He was still there.

Leaning against the wall. Arms crossed. Smirk locked and loaded.

“Thought you were waiting in the hallway,” you teased.

“I was. But then I remembered I’m a grown-ass man who’s seen you naked more times than I’ve seen my own abs.”

You opened the door fully. “You love your abs.”

“Exactly.” He grinned and walked in, arms slipping around your waist before you could protest. “But I love you more.”

“Even though I kicked you out?”

“Especially because you kicked me out. Little bratty.” He leaned down, voice warm and teasing. “I like it.”

You blushed. “Eiji!”

He kissed your cheek. “What? You think pulling a prank like that won’t get a reaction?”

You pouted, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I was trying to be funny.”

“You were. And now…” He scooped you up suddenly, laughing when you squealed. “Now I get to be funny too.”

He tossed you gently onto the bed and crawled in after you, bracing himself above you with a crooked grin.

“You gonna try that again?” he asked, nose brushing yours.

“Maybe,” you whispered.

His grin widened. “Good.”

He kissed you — slow, thorough, all sunshine and flame — until you forgot what the prank was even about. His hands were warm against your sides, his mouth familiar and addictive. You sighed into the kiss, fingers finding their way into his hair.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, breathing a little heavier.

“Don’t tell me to wait outside again,” he murmured.

“Why not?” you teased.

“Because I miss you after two minutes, and it’s humiliating.”

You laughed, hiding your face in his chest. “You’re such a softie.”

“Damn right.”

You both lay there for a while in silence, wrapped up in the safety of each other.

Then, he whispered—

“Still… if you do ever ask me to step out again… make sure it’s so I can walk back in and help you out of the clothes.”

“EIJI!”

Denki Kaminari — “Oh HELL NO, that’s crazy”

You knew exactly what you were doing when you called out from the bedroom:

“Hey babe, can you step out for a second? I need to change.”

The words were innocent. Casual. Delivered with practiced ease as you poked your head out of the closet and gave Denki your most angelic expression.

He was lounging on the couch, feet kicked up on the coffee table, fiddling with some weird-looking gadget that definitely had the potential to explode. His hair was slightly tousled, his hero jacket tossed lazily over the back of a chair, and he was wearing the oversized black T-shirt you always stole from him.

Denki blinked.

His hand froze mid-adjustment on whatever death trap he was building.

“Wait, what?” he called, leaning forward like he hadn’t heard you right.

“I said—” you repeated sweetly, “—I need to change. Can you wait outside?”

He set the gadget down slowly, like it might detonate if he moved too fast.

“Outside the room?” he asked, wide-eyed.

You nodded.

“…Like… outside, outside?”

You nodded again, trying to hide your grin.

Denki squinted, completely baffled. “Babe. We’ve been together for years. I know the freckle pattern next to your asshole better than I know my own PIN number.”

“I know,” you said, voice carefully neutral. “I just wanna change alone today.”

His jaw dropped. “Is this about the sushi thing? Because I swear, if I’d known it was your last piece of toro—”

“It’s not about the sushi,” you interrupted, laughing now.

He stood, clearly flustered, and ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, okay, think, Denki, think… what did you do? Did you leave the toilet seat up? Did you short out the coffee machine again?”

You raised a brow. “Do I need a reason to want privacy?”

“…Yes?” he said without hesitation, then slapped a hand over his mouth. “Wait. No. I mean—no! Of course not. You’re an independent woman and I respect your privacy and boundaries and all that, but—what is happening right now?!”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing. “So you’ll step out?”

He pointed dramatically toward the hallway. “I guess! But just so you know, this feels deeply personal!”

With the most exaggerated sigh in the history of sighs, Denki stomped — theatrically — out of the room, muttering under his breath the entire time.

You gave it thirty seconds before peeking out.

He was leaning against the wall just outside the bedroom door, arms crossed, looking like the human embodiment of betrayal.

“Still there?” you asked.

He pouted. “I’m emotionally wounded.”

You laughed. “You’re being dramatic.”

“You asked me to leave. Like I’m some random tech guy instead of your incredibly hot and loyal boyfriend who literally knows what brand of underwear you hate.”

“I didn’t think it’d be such a big deal.”

Denki put a hand over his heart. “You’ve cut me deeper than any villain ever could.”

You opened the door a little wider. “Maybe I’m just messing with you.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Wait… was this a prank?!”

You shrugged. “Maybe.”

Denki blinked. Then squinted. Then blinked again.

“Oh my God,” he gasped, covering his face with both hands. “I was so close to crying in the hallway. I was already texting Mina for emergency support.”

“You didn’t!”

He held up his phone. Sure enough, a half-written message read:

—🆘 babe told me to leave the room so she can change is this the beginning of the end pls help 😭😭😭

You dissolved into laughter as he groaned and collapsed dramatically onto the bed, arms flailing like he’d just survived the emotional apocalypse.

“You’re evil,” he accused, grabbing a pillow and smacking it against his own face.

“You’re easy,” you teased, sitting beside him.

He peeked out from under the pillow. “You better make this up to me.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’m gonna unleash the full power of my revenge.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “That means tickles. Possibly emotional manipulation. Maybe even sad puppy eyes.”

You raised a brow. “Sad puppy eyes?”

“Don’t make me use them. I only bring those out in times of dire distress.”

You leaned closer. “Dire distress, huh?”

He nodded seriously. “Being denied access to my beautiful girlfriend while she changes definitely counts.”

You smirked. “You do know I’m literally wearing your shirt right now, right?”

“Exactly!” he said, exasperated. “It’s my shirt! I should have visitation rights!”

You pushed him back onto the bed, laughing as he sprawled out dramatically.

“You know what?” he said after a beat. “I’m not even mad.”

“No?”

He turned to look at you, grin softening into something unexpectedly sincere.

“Nah,” he said. “Honestly… I kinda like that you can still mess with me. Keeps me on my toes.”

You smiled, brushing your fingers through his hair. “I like keeping you on your toes.”

“Even if it gives me a heart attack?”

“Especially then.”

He laughed, catching your wrist and pulling you down gently until you were curled beside him, his arm around your shoulders and your face tucked under his chin.

There was a comfortable silence, the kind that only came from years of knowing each other — of late nights spent curled up in each other’s arms, of inside jokes and shared toothbrushes and too many burned pizzas.

Then, softly, Denki murmured, “Just for the record…”

“Mm?”

“If you ever wanna play the shy, innocent ‘you can’t see me change’ thing again…”

You looked up.

“…Warn me next time, so I can record my meltdown and sell it for emotional damage compensation.”

You laughed. “You’re such a drama queen.”

“And proud of it.” He grinned, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “But seriously—next time you want to get undressed, just say the word.”

“Oh yeah?”

He smirked. “I’ll help.”

“DENKI!”

Sero Hanta — “You’re Kicking Me Out? Now?”

There were few things Hanta Sero liked more than chilling at home with you after a long day of hero work.

You made the couch feel like heaven. You made the quiet feel full. And, for the record, you looked criminally good in his oversized shirt and fuzzy socks, dancing around the apartment while brushing your teeth and mumbling some song under your breath.

So yeah, this was his peace.

You were his peace.

Which is why you decided to cause a little chaos.

He was lounging on the floor, back against the couch, halfway into a bag of chips, watching you wander into the bedroom and start rifling through your drawers.

You called over your shoulder like it was nothing.

“Hey, babe? Can you leave the room for a sec? I’m gonna change.”

Crunch.

Sero froze.

You smirked to yourself. You didn’t even need to turn around to know he had gone completely still — chip halfway to his mouth, brows scrunched in betrayal.

“…What?” he finally said.

You kept your voice casual. “I need to change. Alone.”

There was a pause.

“Alone?” he echoed, voice full of offense. “Alone alone? Like—you want me to leave?”

“Yes.”

“Babe.�� He popped up so fast it was almost comical. “We live together. We shower together. I’ve seen you eat ramen in nothing but panties and a top that your boobs we’re practically hanging out of. Now you’re telling me I’m not allowed in my own bedroom?”

You shrugged. “It’s just for a minute.”

His footsteps padded into the doorway. You could feel his baffled stare on your back.

“…Is this a test?”

“Nope.”

“Am I being punk’d?”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing. “Nope.”

He walked in a little more. “Okay. So, you’re telling me that my girlfriend — the woman who literally flashed me by accident on a mission once and didn’t even blink — is suddenly shy?”

You turned to face him with a straight face. “Yes.”

His jaw dropped.

“Oh my god, you’re serious.”

“Dead serious.”

He threw his arms up dramatically. “This is it. You’ve hit your villain arc. You’re breaking up with me in the most cruel, intimate way possible. Clothing-based emotional exile.”

You cracked — you couldn’t hold in your giggles anymore.

Sero narrowed his eyes immediately. “Oh my god. You’re messing with me.”

“No I’m not!” you lied.

He crossed his arms. “You are such a brat.”

You beamed. “I love you.”

“That’s what all the evil masterminds say before unleashing their plots.” He backed out of the room anyway, standing just beyond the doorway, leaning on the frame like he was still deciding whether to respect the prank or call you out for it.

You moved toward the door slowly, still acting like you were getting ready to close it.

He frowned.

“Wait… you’re really doing this?”

You nodded, biting your lip dramatically.

“…Babe.”

“What?”

“I like watching you change.”

You burst out laughing.

He took a step forward. “No, I’m serious. You’ve ruined me. If you take your sweater off and I’m not in the room, I get physically ill.”

“Are you quoting a fanfiction about me?”

“Probably. I’d write it myself if I could.”

You crossed your arms, grinning. “So you’re upset.”

“I’m distraught.”

“Because I’m asking for some privacy?”

“No. Because you think I’m the kind of man who will just leave without a fight.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Sweetheart,” he said, voice dropping a few tones, his smile turning lazy, “I know exactly what’s under that shirt. I folded that lingerie last week. Don’t pretend I’m not allowed to see it.”

Your face flushed.

“Oh, now you’re quiet?” he teased.

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, okay, you win.”

He stepped into the room fully now, grin widening. “So you were pranking me.”

“Guilty”

He pulled you into a hug without hesitation, arms wrapped around your waist, voice warm in your ear.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I know.”

“…Also lucky I didn’t blow a fuse and storm the room.”

“You were close.”

“Honestly, yeah.”

He pulled back, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “But for the record?”

You blinked up at him.

“If you ever tell me to leave again,” he murmured, “you better be naked by the time I come back.”

Your jaw dropped. “Sero!”

“What?” he shrugged innocently. “I’m just saying. If you’re kicking me out, I expect rewards.”

You buried your face in his chest with a dramatic groan. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably in love,” he corrected.

You peeked up at him. “So, I’m forgiven?”

He pretended to think. “Mmm… Only if I get to help you undress this time.”

You reached up, flicked his forehead, and laughed when he caught your hand and kissed it instead.

“Deal,” he said, pulling you closer. “Now change. I’ll sit here like a good boyfriend and totally not peek.”

“You’re literally staring already.”

“Because I’m dedicated.”