tojbnuy · 2 days ago
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little halloween drabble!! 🎃 ps: toji is definitely the type of dad to cut into every piece of candy megumi got before letting him eat it. (likes reblogs always appreciated <3)
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“right go on buddy go knock.”
toji watched as his son waddled towards the door ahead of him. he had to admit megumi looked really fucking cute. he had been going on and on about dressing up as mario for halloween so toji had done what any good dad would do and he bought him the full costume. the kid even had a fake mustache stuck to his upper lip.
“and remember to say please and thank you megs okay?”
“yes daddy i know.” megumi replied with a little too much sass in his tone.
his little fist knocked a couple times on the door until it opened and then there was. you. toji was a bit too focused on laughing at his sons costume that he hadn’t realised someone dressed up as bat-woman had opened the door. toji himself was dressed up as batman (if you could call keeping the batman mask atop his head dressing up). you were matching. and you were fucking gorgeous. toji was busy taking in your long bare legs when he heard the sudden screech leave you at the sight of his son.
“oh don’t you look adorable!!”
he was definitely gonna buy megumi some pizza on the way back after this.
“uh thank you. trick or treat?”
“hold on let me grab my bowl of candy.”
toji couldn’t help but stare at the rest of you as you turned your back on them. you returned with a massive pumpkin shaped bowl full to the brim with sweets and wrapped cakes.
“go on honey take as much as you like.”
and megumi did not take that sentence lightly. toji scoffed as his son grabbed as much as his chubby hands could carry and stuffed it into his bucket, all the while you grinned and cooed at the boy infront of you.
“does daddy want some?”
toji looked at you and the smirk on your face at your little question.
“nah i’m good thank you.”
just as megumi was about to turn back to his dad toji reminded him, “say thank you baby.”
“thank you baby.” megumi very confidently turned to you and said and you had all but melted. you were in a fit of giggles now as toji held a palm up to his face. megumi looked up at his dad wondering what the commotion was about.
“sorry about that.”
“no you’re good, that’s just made my night.”
you were just staring at each other now, neither of you wanting to break away without saying something more.
“hey we’re matching.” and there was something about your smile. he couldn’t get enough.
“yeah i realised.”
god what should he say. he didn’t want to just ask for your number he was clearly older than you.
“haven’t seen you around here before you new?”
“yeah i uh moved in last week.”
he watched every word come out of your pink painted lips. watched as you tucked a strand of black hair behind your ear.
“daddy why are you staring?”
that got another laugh out of you as you ruffled little megumis hair. there was a small hue of pink now dusting your cheeks however.
“nothing brat. well i’ll see you around then.”
“yeah hopefully.” and with one last smile and wave at megumi you closed your front door and toji was left standing there staring at your closed door and wondering if and when would be the next time he saw you.
“do you love her?”
“what??”
“you keep staring at her it’s weird.”
“i’ll be eating your candy when we get home.”
a/n : ty for 370 followers 🫂 !!!!
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flwrstqr · 2 days ago
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✦ ENHYPEN WHEN YOU LEAVE LIPSTICK STAINS
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PREC𝓲S ✦ enha x f!reader warnings skinship, petnames && 789wc 𓈃 ♡ fluff, head canons, one shot ─── ˖ 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐕𝐄 ୨୧
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𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 (이희승)
heeseung chuckles, catching your mischievous smile as he sees the bright lipstick stain on his cheek in the mirror. “baby, you’re marking me up,” he teases, looking over his shoulder with that familiar glint in his eyes, clearly enjoying it more than he’d admit. you just grin and lean closer, brushing your lips across his jaw again, leaving another soft mark. “what? you don’t like my little reminders?” you ask, wrapping your arms around his waist. heeseung pulls you in, his hands warm as they rest on your hips, whispering, “you know i do. now everyone else will know i’m all yours.” he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, mumbling, “but maybe i should leave a few on you too, just to be fair.”
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐀𝐘 (박종성)
jay laughs softly, feeling your lips press against his cheek, leaving a rosy mark he catches in the mirror. “princess, you’re making a mess,” he murmurs, voice full of adoration as he turns to pull you closer, his hands settling gently on your waist. you just giggle, trailing another kiss across his jaw, clearly not stopping anytime soon. “so? you don’t like my little touches?” you tease, and he sighs, shaking his head with a smile that’s all love. “you know i do,” he whispers, thumb brushing your cheek softly as if you’re made of glass. “i’d wear a hundred of these if it means everyone knows i’m yours.” and with that, he leans down, pressing his lips to your forehead like you’re the only thing that matters.
𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 (심재윤)
jake grins as he catches sight of the faint lipstick stain on his jaw, courtesy of your latest shower of kisses. “babe, you’re leaving lipstick stains,” he teases, tilting his head down to look at you, his eyes full of mischief. you just laugh, planting another playful kiss on his cheek. “oops… guess i can’t help myself,” you say with a wink, hands resting on his chest as you pull him closer. he smirks, letting his fingers trail along your waist. “oh, i don’t mind,” he murmurs, voice dropping as he leans down, “but if you keep this up, i’ll have to return the favor.” you gasp, pretending to pull away, but he’s already cupping your face, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “yeah, not getting away that easily, pretty girl.”
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 (박성훈)
"baby, look what you did to me," sunghoon murmurs, a teasing smile spreading as he tilts his head, showing off the faint pink smudge at the corner of his mouth. your cheeks warm as he leans closer, his fingers gently tracing your chin. "that was supposed to stay on you, you know," you mumble, trying to wipe it off, but he just chuckles, catching your hand. "nah, i kinda like it," he says, eyes glinting as he pulls you even closer, his hand slipping around your waist. "you mark me up as much as you want, love." he presses a kiss to your temple, leaving a soft whisper against your skin. "now, go on—leave another one. maybe right here?" sunghoon points to his jaw, grinning, "can’t have anyone thinking i’m not completely taken."
𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 (김선우)
“yah, are you trying to make me your canvas or something?” sunoo laughs, his hand instinctively reaching up to touch the faint pink stain you left just under his jaw. he gives you a playful glare, but the way he leans closer says otherwise. “don't act like you don’t like it,” you tease, smoothing down the collar of his shirt as you press another kiss right where his cheek curves. he blushes, but his lips curl up, eyes shining. “you’re right… but don’t blame me if people start asking why i’m covered in your lipstick.” he tilts his head, looking down at you with a soft smirk. “i could get used to this, y’know? maybe next time, a little higher up?”
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 (양정원)
"you’re getting lipstick everywhere, you know that, right?" jungwon murmurs, but there's a softness in his eyes that betrays any real protest. his hand rests on your waist, pulling you in closer as you leave another kiss on his cheek, a faint pink mark blooming under your lips. “mm, and you don’t mind one bit, do you, baby?” you tease, your fingers brushing his hair back gently. he chuckles, barely shaking his head, eyes half-closed as he leans into each kiss like he’s savoring them. "never," he whispers, his voice tender. "you can cover me in as many as you want.” his hands find your face, holding you still just so he can press a lingering kiss on your forehead, his smile full of warmth. “as long as they're from you, i’ll wear them all day.”
𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 (西村力)
“wow, really going all out, huh?” riki laughs, his fingers brushing over the bright pink lipstick mark you just left on his cheek. he tilts his head, flashing you a playful smirk. “you trying to claim me or something, princess?” he teases, tapping his cheek with a grin, daring you to leave another. you roll your eyes but can’t help the smile tugging at your lips as you lean in, pressing another kiss, this time right near his jaw. “maybe i am,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “any complaints?” he scoffs, pulling you in by the waist, eyes sparkling. “yeah, one big complaint��� you’re not putting them everywhere else,” he whispers, leaning down so you’re practically nose-to-nose.
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lemonlover1110 · 3 days ago
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𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬
Satoru Gojo
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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
Summary: Satoru makes the biggest mistake of his life. If he could go back in time, he would take it all back in a heartbeat.
Warnings: Heavy Angst, Cheating, Smut, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Some Biting, Vaginal Sex, Daddy Kink, Creampie
*This is a commission for the lovely @mew4-ever18. Thank you so much dear, this was so fun to work on❤️ also you can thank her since she wanted me to share with y'all!
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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There’s something wrong with Satoru, and you can’t quite put your finger on it– Well, you have an idea of what it is but you don’t want to accuse your fiancé of such an outrageous act of betrayal. He’s coming home later than usual, bearing gifts and stinking of some cheap perfume. He claims he’s working late with his secretary, the company is going through a rough patch and he has to fix it all.
You noticed it from the beginning. One night Satoru came home later than usual and he wasn’t your usual Satoru. He was distant and refused to even make eye contact with you. He was hiding his phone, and was extra wary about where he put it for the night. It happened six months ago, and you were willing to look past it because you loved Satoru and it was surely a one time thing.
Until the next day where the same thing happened. And then a week later. Six months later you’re dealing with the same issue, trying to convince yourself that it isn’t happening. The signs are all there, but you don’t want to question your partner’s loyalty. Truly after making such accusations, everything will be over. So you bite your tongue even though Satoru clearly acts differently for a reason.
“How was work today?” You ask him, clearing the table from the dinner you just had. You surprised him tonight, preparing one of his favorite meals since you knew he’d be home early tonight. You hope that by surprising him with food, he’d come home early more often.
Unluckily for you, Satoru played with his food the entire duration of the meal. He was looking at his phone the entire meal, barely acknowledging your presence. But you’ll attribute it to him having a rough day at work. A rough week at this point… Nevertheless, you’ll find a way to excuse his behavior.
“Can you help me clean up?” You ask him after your question goes ignored, and Satoru barely acknowledges your existence. You’re getting tired of this, and you’re not sure for how much longer you can withstand it. You speak again, your voice much firmer this time, “Satoru, honey, can you help me?”
“Uh… Sure.” He replies, standing up from the table and doing just as you’ve asked. You make some conversation with him, knowing you hold his attention for a small fragment of time and you have to make it count. He gives you vague answers, but at least he gives you something. 
Midway through the conversation is like a flip switches in Satoru, and he begins to smile as he speaks to you. He cracks a couple of jokes, and you two begin to laugh like the sweet couple you are. You feel like you’re in the very beginning of your relationship once again. He’s making jokes just to hear your sweet laugh.
Before you know it, you’re cuddling up with him on the couch. You allow yourself to easily forget about his past behavior, simply because he’s acting like the man you love after all this time. 
“Was dinner not good? You barely touched your food.” You ask him, and he bites down his lip.
“It was good, I wasn’t too hungry though.” He answers, though he quickly changes the topic. You partially understand why he wants to talk about something else. You’re finally having a good time, he doesn’t want it to change. “When’s your next work trip? I don’t want to get accustomed to having you here.”
“I’m leaving tomorrow for three days.” You respond, and you see a small pout come to his face. You almost laugh at the response, chuckling before kissing his cheek. You don’t understand the response when most nights he isn’t by your side either way, but you still appreciate the reaction. “I’ll be back in no time, babe.”
“I’m going to miss you.” He says, a phrase that is odd to hear from him but it brings a smile to your face. Maybe whatever is going on is fixable. You peck his lips, getting even closer to him.
“You can appreciate me while I’m still here.” You tell him, and within a blink of an eye, you’re on top of him. He’s given you no sign, but you feel the need to try to initiate something with Satoru. You had a consistent sex life with him until recently. The last time you felt Satoru’s touch was three months ago, and it was unsatisfactory to say the least… You hope you can change his mind this way. It’s stupid. 
You’re getting frisky, your hands unbuttoning his shirt while you kiss him, full of desperation. You need him. You’re too caught up in your own sentiments, barely noticing that he’s not touching you. You’re doing everything.
He’s not even kissing you back. You’re grabbing his hands and putting them on your ass since you know it’s one of– If not his favorite part of your body. But his hands quickly fall, telling you he’s disinterested.
“Satoru–” You pull away, about to ask why he isn’t even moving. Before a business trip, he’d make sure to remind you how much he loves you– But right now he can’t even keep eye contact with you.
“I’m not in the mood.” He mutters, and you swear you hear your heart break. It feels like this confirms all of your fears and doubts. You just know you’re frustrated. You get off him, and without even thinking twice, you blurt out,
“Are you cheating on me?” Which makes his eyes go wide. He looks at you, offended that you’ve asked that question. As if he hasn’t given you reasonable doubt. But even though the question lingers in your mind, you regret the words that leave your lips.
“How dare you?” He immediately replies, and you feel the urgent need to apologize for what you asked. You still want an answer that’s not his offense. Even though his response should give you an answer, you’re still wanting to hear him deny it.
“You’ve been acting weird– I don’t know what to think.” You try to justify yourself, as Satoru stands up from the couch.
“What? I told you I’m busy with work! But your first thought is that I’m–” Satoru finds himself yelling, and he stops himself. He takes a deep breath to not be too rash. He’s upset, but he won’t yell at you. “I love you so much, why would you even say that? I’ve done nothing but be loyal and cherish you but you’re–”
“You’re acting weird, Satoru! I– I’m sorry that I even suggested that but you’re acting really weird.” You’re tripping over your words, getting nervous during your confrontation. This is something that can completely ruin a relationship, you should’ve bit your tongue and held back on asking the question. 
“I can’t even look at you.” He mutters, walking away from you. He’s heading toward the front door, and you can’t stop him. You want to tell him to stop, you can figure this out; however, your voice gives out. Maybe deep down you know that you don’t have to apologize for anything. 
The feeling lingers, deep down you know you’re right. 
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You allow yourself time to think. Time away from Satoru to decide what you want to do with your relationship. Work keeps you busy, but it reminds you of him. You met with him through your work, you were hired to accompany him on a trip and he kept flirting with you until he mustered up the courage to ask you out.
You’re wondering if maybe your work is the reason why he’s acting like this. Maybe you’re overthinking that he’s distant, and he’s actually just worried that someone else will woo you. You’ll think of anything to excuse his behavior, anything to stay on cloud nine when it comes to your fiancé. 
During your time away you reflect on your relationship. You need to have a serious chat with Satoru, something that you’ve been holding off on. You don’t want to have tough conversations in fear of hurting him, but it’s hurting your relationship.
You’re losing sleep over your issues, and you can’t stay away for another day. You’re going home early to try and fix your relationship problems, because you won’t be able to properly rest if you don’t fix it. 
Luckily, the lights are on when you come home. You’ll be able to speak with him immediately. You hope that by next week this will all be something that you laugh at. Alas, you know that you’ll need to put in a little more work. 
You walk into your place, leaving your luggage in your car. You want to talk to Satoru as fast as you can. 
You expect to find him in the kitchen, cooking something for himself since Satoru tends to try to make himself something when he’s free. But you guess you’re a little late. It’s past dinner time, he’s not in the kitchen… But he did leave a mess. You’re about to walk past it and check for him in the bedroom, but your eyes fixate on the sink.
Two glasses of wine. One has a red lipstick stain. The son of a bitch lied to you– No, maybe you’re overthinking. Perhaps he invited his mother over for dinner. He’s probably upstairs, too tired to clean up after himself so he left the mess for the morning.
You take a deep breath, using all your might to move your feet. You have to go upstairs to talk to him. You pray that you find him sleeping so you can avoid this whole situation right now– Or that the scene that plays in your mind isn’t happening.
Satoru is loyal to you. Satoru is loyal. You keep repeating the words to yourself as you walk upstairs. Your heart is about to beat out of your chest with every step. You’re getting sweaty, and thinking of the worst when you’re standing outside the closed bedroom door.
You hear it, and your heart breaks. You’re fidgeting with your fingers as you press your ear against the door to listen better. It’s his voice… It’s Satoru. Your Satoru. The same man that got defensive when you confronted him about his loyalty.
A man that you’ve loved so dearly for years, has betrayed you in the worst way possible.
But maybe, just maybe, you’re getting this whole situation wrong. You refuse to cry when you’re probably misreading this situation. Perhaps he’s just watching some explicit videos on his phone, something to kill his loneliness. You crack the door open, and you want to puke at the scene. 
A gasp leaves your lips, as if you’re surprised by it all. As if you didn’t already feel this was happening. Tears well your eyes, quickly spilling and falling down your face. He’s not only betraying you, but doing it on your own bed as if it were nothing. The bed that you’ve laid down beside him and shared so many intimate moments.
You make eye contact for a split second before you look at her. The woman that was always so sickly sweet with you is in bed with your fiancé. You always knew that there was something up with her, there was no plausible reason for her to be so nice. You brought up your concerns with Satoru, and he brushed them off.
“You two can go to hell.” You yell, remembering the words that Satoru always told you: She’s no one important, she won’t last long in the company or something along those lines. And yet here she is. You’re holding your breath, unable to exhale until you finally turn around. You hear Satoru call out your name as you begin to walk away.
You try to hold back on crying now, you don’t want to look pathetic in front of them. You’ll simply leave, even though he calls out your name to talk to you. The man that you swore you’d love for the rest of your life has made a fool out of you. With his secretary of all people… How cliché. 
“It isn’t what it seems!” Satoru is yelling, trying to catch up to you. You take a swift look at him, rolling your eyes. At least he has clothes on now, that’s an improvement. 
You don’t want to entertain him, you just head to the front door as Satoru mutters out baseless apologies. You don’t want to hear it, he’s just spewing whatever to get you to stay. Your hand lands on the cold doorknob, and before you get to turn it, his hand lands on your wrist.
“Please let me explain.” There’s desperation in his eyes, something that would’ve made you drop everything and tend to him ten minutes ago. Right now your blood is boiling, and the only sight that you want to see is a bloody Satoru lying down on the floor– It’s extremely unlike you, but you guess your thoughts won’t be too normal after finding out your fiancé balls deep into his secretary.
“Fuck you, Satoru. Fuck you and your secretary–” You begin before a loud laugh leaves your lips. It’s rare that you curse, but you can’t hold back now. You truly mean it, never in your life do you want to see the man that stands before you. You were ready to devote your entire life to him; yet, this is how he repays you. “I guess you already did, didn’t you?”
“Please, it was nothing.” He tries to explain which makes you scoff. You pry his hand off your wrist and open the door.
“I’m coming to get my stuff tomorrow while you work. I’ll leave the engagement ring on your nightstand.” You tell him before walking away, leaving him behind to yell your name. He mindlessly calls out to you, hoping that you come back to talk to him, but you don’t dare to look back at him. 
That concludes your relationship of years with Satoru. A few minutes of pleasure were worth ruining your four year long relationship, and an eternity together. You wipe away the tears that leave your eyes, trying to not feel bad about it. After all, Satoru made his bed, and you can’t change anything about it.
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Satoru tries to contact you more times than you can count, which results in him being blocked everywhere. You don’t want to speak to him ever again. You spoke to his parents one last time, and explained everything to them before closing that chapter of your life. You want to completely forget that Satoru Gojo ever existed in your life. In your mind, you want it to be as if you never crossed paths.
You had two weeks of dwelling in sorrow, pitying yourself for your ex-fiancé’s actions before school started. Going back to teach English was actually going to be more helpful to you than you thought. The students keep you busy, managing to push away any dark thoughts from your mind.
You find the school to be a safe space from all the drama that surrounds your life. You don’t have to worry about Satoru trying to get you to communicate with him, and you know that he won’t dare to show up at your work. The idiot somehow found out where you live, and he’s been attempting to send you flowers or other romantic deliveries that quickly get turned down or end up in the trash. 
You hate the turn of events. You were practically begging for a more eventful life since everything had suddenly become so dull– How you regret wanting that change. Yet you guess it’s better like this. You should be grateful that you found Satoru’s true colors before it was too late. 
“There’s someone that wants to talk to you… He’s at your desk.” Your coworker warns you as you walk to the office. You furrow your brows, picking up the unsureness in her voice.
It’s been nearly two months since everything happened, so Satoru is the last thing on your mind. So you don’t have a problem walking to the office, assuming that it’s a student that is seeking help. Though you’re not too sure about it since most of them are supposed to be in class.
A scoff leaves your mouth when you enter the office and you see the man that you’ve been avoiding for the past two months. As you watch him lean over your desk and inspect every little gadget that’s on it, you realize it’s a miracle that he hasn’t shown up at your door to beg for forgiveness.
He hasn’t realized that you’re in the same room, so you have two options: turn around and pretend like you were never here, or confront him. You want to turn around and avoid him. And you will. But just as you turn on your heel to leave, he calls out your name. 
“Can we talk?” Satoru asks, clearly desperate to explain everything to you… But what is there to explain? No matter the reason, what he did is unforgivable.
You want to yell at him, and tell him to get out of your life forever. But your coworkers are standing around and you don’t want to cause a scene. You have to swallow the sharp words that rest at the tip of your tongue. You choose a more professional way to deliver your message,
“Mr. Gojo, please stop contacting me. Next time I receive some sort of message from you, I’ll be forced to file a restraining order.”
He calls out to you again, but you don’t acknowledge him in any way. Your coworkers stare at him, wondering what happened between the two of you, but no one is bold enough to actually ask. For your ex-fiancé to show up at your work to talk, and refusing to speak to him is no small feat. Regardless, no one will ask you and no one is going to dare to speak to the man.
They don’t get a chance either way, Satoru quickly walks out of the office after checking his phone, leaving the place behind. Leaving too many questions unanswered.
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“What do you need?” Satoru answers the phone with attitude when he gets into his car. He’s too annoyed to deal with anything else, especially with her. The woman that he broke things off with immediately, yet she won’t leave him alone for some reason. 
For some reason, as if he hadn’t started an emotional affair with her– Sure, for him it was purely physical but for her it seems like feelings developed. Even though he tried to fire her (which didn’t work out since she threatened to sue due to an inappropriate workplace relationship with a very clear power imbalance), she keeps trying to call him and act as if their relationship hasn’t ended. 
“When are we meeting again?” She acts as if nothing happened. Her voice is so irritating to him, it’s become one of his most hated sounds. He rolls his eyes when he hears her speak, and he has to sigh. He can’t get rid of her completely, as much as he wants to. 
“Please refrain from calling me unless there’s a work emergency.” Satoru tries to remain calm. He’s not going to waste his energy by losing his cool on her. By keeping things professional, he hopes that she’ll take a hint and leave him alone. But he’s not so lucky, he’s getting extremely bad karma for his actions. “Is there anything else? I’m busy.”
“We– We have to talk.” She sounds hesitant, though Satoru doesn’t really care. If she wants to never speak again, he’d be overjoyed. 
“What is it?” He asks, hoping that it’s something she can say over the phone. He wants to meet as little as possible with her. The line is quiet for a minute before she says,
“Can we please meet in person?” She questions, making Satoru scoff. No way in hell will he willingly meet up with her. His response gives her the answer she needs. She knows he’ll hang up soon so she blurts out, “I’m pregnant.”
“Huh?” His eyes go wide as he processes the words that he just heard. Pregnant? No, that can’t be, he’s always been so careful with her. He ensured she was on birth control and he always made sure to wear a condom. A pregnancy shouldn’t even be possible. “What– You’re not lying to me, are you?”
“I– I’m not. I wish I was.” He can almost hear the smirk that’s on her lips. She tries to act like this is something bad, but he can hear that this is ideal for her. “I swear I’m not lying.”
“What the fuck?” Satoru is pinching the bridge of his nose as he wonders how the hell this happened. He still can’t believe her, and he won’t until he sees a test result right in his face. One that he sees her take.
He absolutely can’t trust her with anything.
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Satoru finally decides to leave you alone for the first time in months. You’re still on his mind, but he has bigger issues to deal with right at this moment. Somehow, someway, he’s becoming a father. This wasn’t in the cards for him, especially with someone that isn’t you. 
“What do you think about going shopping for baby clothes tomorrow?” She’s resting her head on his lap, talking like she usually does when she’s with him. He’s engrossed with his phone, creating a new account to check up on your social media. Satoru’s given you space since he has a girlfriend now. 
He’s not sure if he’s a coward or what, but he can’t do much. He got someone pregnant, so he’s forced to step up. He’s fucked up in a lot of ways, but he isn’t the type of man that’s going to leave his child behind. But he’s for sure the man that secretly looks at his ex’s social media. 
“Satoru, are you listening?” He hears, and he hums in response. Though he’s not too enthusiastic, which makes her sigh. She raises her head from his lap and squints her eyes as she looks at him. She doesn’t have to look at his phone to know.
She snatches the phone out of his head and tosses it to the side, making a frown appear on his face. He’s about to protest but she gets on top of him, cupping his face. “You know… I miss you.”
“I’m right here.” Satoru can’t make eye contact with her. He feels guilty by just looking at her. Not because he feels like he owes her anything, but because by looking at her he’s reminded of you. You two would’ve been married now. 
“Baby, stop thinking of her.” She says, going down to peck his lips. The sentence would’ve driven any other woman mad, but that’s her reality. It’s been her reality since the beginning, ever since she decided to sleep with a man that was in a relationship. “I saw her last night.”
“Where?” A sudden spark appears in his eyes which ticks her off. She has to pretend like she doesn’t see it.
“She was out with some man.” She’s fighting off a smirk, she can’t seem wicked in front of Satoru. Though watching his expression darken satisfies her. “She’s moved on, you can move on as well.”
“I guess.” Satoru is vulnerable, weak enough to believe anything that goes past him. As long as he gets to hear about you, he doesn’t care if a statement is true or false. Though he doesn’t like the news he’s receiving. “Are you sure it was her though?”
“Yeah. I know so. She’s hard to confuse with someone else.” She answers, and Satoru clenches his jaw. Perhaps it was just a male friend, no one that you’re interested in romantically… Though he did the same thing, and this is where it landed him. “I’m here for you, baby. Me and our baby.”
She grabs his hand and places it on her small bump, reminding him that they’re bound together for life. Satoru is biting down his lip, jealousy consuming him at the mere thought of you with someone else. He almost wants to get back at you. As if you’d get hurt by what he does or doesn’t do. You’ve moved on from him, you clearly don’t care about what he does. 
Satoru knows that he’s lost you, he doesn’t win anything by not giving in. He is touch deprived, desperate to feel something more. He’s already sacrificed so much for the few moments of pleasure that the woman in front of him gave him, what’s one more time?
Her lips land on his again, and he doesn’t fight it. But he also doesn’t kiss her back. The situation reminds him of the last time that you made a move on him and he rejected you. He’s so close to shutting his eyes and listening to his dick, but he almost pukes when an image of you pops up into his head.
He can’t do it, not even when he’s trying to get back at you. It’s his bad karma. He ends up pushing her away, telling her, “It’s best if we don’t.”
“What’s the harm in it?” She’s annoyed that he pushes her away. He’s not wrapped around her finger like she thought.
“I’m not in the mood.” He takes a firm stance, and she tries to remain calm. She opens her mouth to speak but Satoru clears his throat, “I think it’s best if we stop whatever we’re doing here. It’s not healthy.”
“What do you mean?” She furrows her brows. Satoru takes a deep breath, thinking of how to land the blow. He knows that she won’t be too delighted, but does he really care about her feelings?
“If we’re going to have some sort of relationship, it’s only a co-parenting one. I’m not interested in anything else.” He says, and she begins to laugh as if it’s some kind of joke. Though it fades when she realizes that Satoru has a stoic expression on his face. He couldn’t be more serious.
“Satoru, I am carrying your baby. You can’t be serious.” She makes a big show of it, putting her hand on her bump. She wants to make it as clear as she can that she’s expecting his child. 
“Which is why we’ll co-parent. Other than that, I’m not interested.” He responds, and her hands ball up into fists. She doesn’t understand. He’s already lost everything, what’s the harm of being with her now? He should move on since you clearly don’t care about him.
“What is wrong with you?” She asks, completely offended. How could he not want her? He’s risked everything to be with her, but when he actually can be, he refuses. “We’re having a baby, you’re not with her anymore– We can finally be together.”
“I don’t want to be with you. It’s simple.” Satoru answers, and before a major argument ensues, he stands up. He begins to walk to the door, leaving her behind to yell at the wall. He knows arguing is senseless.
If she wants to escalate the situation, he’s more than willing to settle everything in court.
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Satoru is trying to come to terms with the fact that he’s becoming a father, and you aren’t the mother. His secretary is six months along, and time is flying by. The day that his baby is born is getting closer, and he has to come to terms with it soon.
His parents aren’t thrilled by this. They love his son, but they hate that this is the result of an act of betrayal. They dreamed of becoming grandparents but the situation was much different than this. They’ve made their feelings clear to Satoru, but Satoru couldn’t care less. He has his own feelings to account for. 
Satoru has his own weird feelings and behaviors to deal with. Like camping in his car, and waiting outside your apartment. He wants to see if you’re actually seeing someone else. With all his other issues, he’s been limited in time. He’s only been able to check up on you through social media, and you haven’t been posting which means he has no way of checking on you. He can’t contact your friends without getting cursed out, and he can’t just reach out to you to ask. Therefore he only has one way to check up on you; even if it’s creepy.
You leave the house at around 8:00 PM, and he’s on the move. You take a cab, and he follows you to a nice restaurant. Outside of it you meet a man. Satoru squints, trying to see every detail of this man. Perhaps it’s some relative that you’ve decided to meet outside a very expensive restaurant. Who is he fooling? You’re clearly on a date.
He still exits the car and enters the restaurant. It’s unlikely for him to get in without a reservation, but luckily Satoru is influential– Even when he isn’t well known, he has money to spare. 
He convinces the hostess to give him a table near your own, but your back is turned to him so you don’t see him at any time. He’s listening in, and he feels like a psycho for even being here but he has no other option. It’s a one off situation, a confirmation that you’ve actually moved on before he finally lets you go for good.
He doesn’t know why his heart hurts so much as he hears you laugh with someone else. He fuels with jealousy as he hears the dumb conversation that you two have. You don’t even sound entertained, but Satoru feels his eye twitch. He can’t just pop up at your table and ask you to speak, you’ll for sure ask him for a restraining order.
It’s best if he just leaves, it’s clear that you’re going out with someone else. He can’t do anything else. But just as he’s about to rise from his seat, someone catches his eye. He frowns, seeing the woman that carries his child, arms intertwined with someone else’s.
He watches attentively, trying to figure out if it’s a relative that he’s yet to hear about. He doesn’t really remember anything about his secretary… It was all sexual, and he didn’t care enough to listen to what she had to say about her life. Perhaps it’s a brother– The same stupid way that he thought you were here meeting a relative.
Satoru stands up and approaches their table, genuinely smiling as he sees them, “Good evening.”
“Satoru–” She looks astounded when she sees the man. She looks back and forth between the man that sits across from her, and Satoru. Her face grows red, knowing she’s been caught red handed. But she can play it off, she just has to control the situation before either speaks. “This is Satoru, my boss.”
“Nice to meet you, and who are you?” Satoru extends his hand for the man to take, and the man suddenly straightens his posture. She tries to speak, but Satoru directs his attention elsewhere. He doesn’t care what she has to say, he’s not going to believe her. Satoru doesn’t hear a name from the man, he blocks out everything except the vital word: fiancé.
“Well we– We… We were taking a break for some months and we’re back together now.” She attempts to play it off, and Satoru smirks. Right. As if he was dumb enough to buy it.
“We have a lot to talk about on Monday. Dinner’s on me tonight, enjoy it.” Satoru is sickly sweet with them, overjoyed by what he found out. He walks from the table and breathes a sigh of relief. It feels like a massive weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He just has to take one DNA test to prove that he isn’t the father, and he’s free of her. 
He’s upset to find that you’re not alone romantically, but he’s overjoyed by the news he’s just found out. He might not be becoming a father like he thought.
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After finding out about Satoru’s betrayal, you thought you’d never move on. A man that you were ready to devote your life to, threw everything away for no apparent reason– You never asked why, but you don’t care either way. A year later you’re thriving without him, and with a man that makes you happy.
The perfect man that sends you flowers to work weekly even though you’ve been dating for almost a year. A man that’s open to communication, handsome, hilarious and to top it off you have great sex with. You’re still not sure if Akito is the man that you want to spend the rest of your life with, but you’re pretty comfortable by his side. After all, he fills in all the checkmarks.
You’re preparing dinner with him tonight, singing along to one of your favorite songs as you chop some vegetables and he pours you something to drink. As the song and your voice drowns out, you bite down your lip and you prepare yourself to speak. You've had something in your mind for a while, but you’ve been too nervous to say it.
“I think I’m going to leave the agency.” You tell him, as he slides you a glass of your beverage. He continues his task without saying anything, and you feel the need to explain yourself. “I hate leaving on business trips every now and then. I just want to focus on teaching.”
“I get it.” Akito sounds unphased, and it bothers you. You feel his arms as he hugs you from behind before kissing your cheek. You bite down your tongue, unsure as to why you’re annoyed by this. He should be thrilled since it means that you’ll be around more often. 
“Is that all?” You ask, and he hums in response. He lets go of you and grabs a pan to begin his part of the dinner.
“Won’t you miss traveling? You’re going to lose touch with some of your languages.” He finally says, and you purse your lips together. You’re not satisfied by the response. Satoru would’ve reacted differently– No, you can’t compare him to Satoru. Akito would never betray you like Satoru did.
“I can always travel in my free time. Plus, it’d be more enjoyable since I don’t have to worry about work.” You respond, and he hums again. You compare him to Satoru once more in your head, before changing the topic. You can’t compare him to Satoru; after all, they’re on very different levels.
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“Hey!” An all too familiar voice calls out your name when you walk into the school. You begin to walk faster to the building, not wanting to speak to a ghost from your past. It’s been well over a year since the last time you saw him, and you intend to keep it that way. 
You know he’s following after you, and he’s quickly catching up because of his damn long legs. Just as you’re about to enter the building, he grabs your arm, stopping you from going inside and avoiding him. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, you look back at him and look into his regretful blue eyes– And your heart skips a beat like the first time.
“May I help you?” You ask, averting your gaze as guilt quickly consumes you. It immediately feels as if you’re cheating on your boyfriend.
“I heard that you’re not working with us anymore and–” Satoru is stumbling over his words, getting nervous. He should probably ask how you are first, or any other small talk but he knows it won’t help in this situation. He can’t waste a single second. “Did I do something wrong? I mean, I know I did with our relationship… But you’re leaving your job as a translator for–”
“Mr. Gojo, my decision is frankly none of your business. The last time we talked was over a year ago, you have little to no influence in my decisions.” You answer, and he gives you a weak nod. “Did you come all the way here just to ask me that?”
“I would feel like shit if I knew I did something else to make you quit… But I guess you wouldn’t leave the agency just because of me.” He runs a hand through his hair, giving it away that he’s nervous. You feel your face get warm, feeling giddy knowing that you make him feel nervous. But you quickly try to shake away those thoughts. 
“I just want to focus on teaching. That chapter of my life is over…” You explain, although you don’t have the need to. “How did you even find out?”
“Heard from a friend of a friend.” He responds before an awkward silence ensues. He should probably speak, but what would he even say? Hey so you remember my secretary, right? The one I cheated on you with? Well she got pregnant and made me believe that it was my baby but it totally wasn’t. That won’t make for great conversation, and frankly it would earn him a punch in the face.
“Will you let go of my arm?” You ask him, and he looks down to see his hand holding your wrist. He nods and lets go of you, muttering an apology for it. You take a good look at his face before turning around to go inside.
“Can we go grab a coffee soon? I’ve been getting counseling and I want to have at least one last conversation with you before moving on.” He says which makes you stop in your tracks. You chew on the inside of your cheek as you think about it… 
Maybe it’s what you need. One last conversation with Satoru will confirm your feelings for Akito. It’ll help you move on to the next chapter of your life with your amazing boyfriend. Not getting closure from Satoru is what’s holding you back .
“Are you free after four?” You ask him, and his eyes widen before quickly nodding.
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Satoru frantically looks around the café, trying to find a sign of you anywhere. It’s five after four, and he’s sure that you’ve stood him up. He’s a nervous wreck as he waits for you. This is what he considers his last conversation with you, and he knows that once you get to the café, his time with you is limited.
He shouldn’t be too upset about it since you haven’t spoken in a while, but knowing that it’s the last time you’ll talk still stings. He dwells on his decisions, regretting everything he’s done that’s led to this. If only he could go back in time, he’d beat himself up for making such a stupid decision. He let go the love of his life, all for nothing.
He zones out, thinking about you. A warm smile comes to his face as he remembers every tiny detail of you and of your relationship. His times with you were some of the happiest of his life, and his stupid self just had to screw that up. 
A snap of a finger brings him back to reality, and he’s overjoyed when he finds you standing in front of him. You bite down your lip as you see your order resting on the table. At least he remembered that.
“What did you want to talk about?” You ask as you sit across from him. You try to act indifferent. As if this doesn’t matter to you at all. You’re here to do him a favor, at least that’s what you’ll make it seem.
“How are you?” He won’t get to the point as easily as he did earlier. He slides your drink, hoping that you’ll take it without a second thought.  You glance at it, but you don’t take it into your hands immediately. 
“I’m great.” You respond, not asking anything back because you don’t want to seem like you care about him even though you do. You’ve been wondering for days on end how Satoru is holding up. Wondering if he’s moved on, if he’s with his secretary or whatnot. “So you’ve been getting counseling.”
“It’s been a rough year.” He chuckles, and you give him a subtle nod. You can relate, but your year has gotten progressively better. You’re happy with where you are. “You’re always on my mind but now more than ever.”
“I would say I’m flattered but… I’m not sure.” You confess with an awkward laugh. He agrees. 
“I haven’t gotten to properly apologize, and I need to do it to move on.” Satoru begins, and he takes a deep breath before speaking again. “I’m sorry for what I did to you. I threw away our relationship for nothing. You were the best thing to happen to me, and I messed that up.”
“Yeah…” You feel yourself get emotional, tears welling up in your eyes as you hear the apology. You had no idea how much you wanted to hear it. You thought that never talking to Satoru again would fix your issues, but you feel so much weight lifted from you as you hear his apology. 
You take deep breaths to calm yourself down. You won’t begin to cry in front of him. 
“Why did you do it?” You blurt out, wanting an answer for the reason why he betrayed you. You’ve come to terms that it isn’t for your fault, but you still want to know what prompted him to make that decision.
He stays quiet, which makes you ask, “Did I do something?... Was I not enough in that sense?”
“No! No, you’ve always…” Satoru begins, biting down his lip as his cheeks turn pink. It’s almost embarrassing to say out loud. “The best that I’ve ever had.”
“So, what was it?” You ask, and Satoru sighs. He doesn't really know himself. It was just something that happened and he couldn’t stop once it began.
“I’m an idiot, that’s all.” He admits, and it’s not the satisfying answer that’ll ease all of your worries. But it’s enough. “If I could go back in time, I would beat myself up for even thinking about it.”
“I would too.” You joke, and he chuckles in response. He’d deserve it. “But I guess I’m happy you did it. I’m happy with where I’m at now.”
“Really?” He raises a brow, and you nod, further confirming your words. He looks into your eyes, knowing that you don’t mean it. It’s so easy for him to read you. Maybe it’s because you’re with him, and there’s no way that you’d feel happy sitting across your ex-fiancé who betrayed you, but you don’t look happy. That spark that appears in your eyes when you’re overjoyed with your life isn’t there. “I heard you’ve moved on.”
“Yeah. I’m with this guy named Akito. I met him through work.” You share, and Satoru can’t help but furrow his brows. 
“Did you meet through the agency or–”
“The school. His nephew is in my class and we met through a parent teacher conference, since the parents couldn’t show up.” You explain. You finally grab the beverage that Satoru gave you and you begin to drink it. Conversation begins to flow smoothly, and you change to a more lighthearted topic.
You laugh nonstop for almost an hour. Satoru has a lot of flaws, but he knows damn well how to make you laugh. You completely forget that you’ve had a tumultuous past with him. The man in front of you isn’t the man that betrayed you, but simply an old friend that knows you better than anyone.
Though your loving conversation comes to an abrupt stop when you check the time and you realize that you have to go back home soon. You cut him off as he speaks, telling him, “I should get going.”
“Huh? Oh yeah.” He responds as he checks his watch. He got a little carried away, but you didn’t seem to mind. You’re about to stand up, but you take a moment to stare at him.
You bite your tongue, wondering if you should tell him what’s on your mind. Satoru is fun to have around, even if he isn’t your boyfriend or anything like that.
“We should do this again sometime. You might not be the best partner but you make a great friend.” You comment as you stand up. You’re about to walk away, but his voice stops you.
“I can’t.” He says, which takes you back. You’re a bit confused by his response– Is he dating someone? Is that why he can’t become friends with you? No, he wouldn’t have insisted on apologizing if he was seeing someone else. Sure, it gives him ease of mind but Satoru wouldn’t.
Before you can question it, he confesses, “I’m in love with you. I can’t be friends with you while you’re with someone else.” 
“Oh–” Your stomach drops at the confession and your breath hitches. Out of all things he could’ve said, he said that. You open your mouth but quickly close it because you can’t say anything. You’re speechless. You point to the door and say, “I have to go.”
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All the weight that was lifted off your shoulders after your conversation with Satoru, quickly comes back. You’re laying down next to your boyfriend who sleeps so peacefully beside you. He asked to spend the night and you couldn’t refuse. Yet tonight you keep glancing over, and wondering if you’re happy next to him.
You’re comfortable. Akito is a great man and you can see him being with you for the rest of your life. But do you love him? You knew you loved Satoru within a month of dating him, but you’ve been with Akito for a year, and you’re not sure about your feelings
You just want to curse Satoru out for putting you in this situation. You shouldn’t be questioning your feelings for your boyfriend. You’re happy, that’s enough.
You shut your eyes and lay on your side, trying to fall asleep. You aren’t going to question your feelings for your boyfriend because of Satoru. It’s all some dumb tactic to question your feelings. Satoru knew damn well that showing up at your work, and asking you to coffee will make your feelings come back–
Your eyes snap open as you realize that you’re still in love with Satoru.
“What’s wrong? You can’t sleep?” Akito speaks up, and from the sound of his voice you know that he’s been awake this whole time. You’ve been squirming, trying to find the right position that will get the unwelcome thoughts out of your head. You sit up on your bed, reaching over to turn on the light.
“I think we have to talk…” 
“What’s wrong?” He asks, sitting up as well. You told him that you met up with Satoru, something that he had no issue with until now. Now, he’s absolutely worried. With one swift look at him, he knows. He’s gotten to know you better than you know him.
“I should’ve known.” He chuckles, getting out of bed.
“I’m sorry.” You mutter, and he shakes his head.
“No need to apologize for it. You can’t control it.” He says as he begins to get changed in front of you. “It hurts like a bitch but at least we only wasted a year.”
“I’m sorry.” You repeat, burying your face into your hands. “I didn’t think this would happen. He’s hurt me so much and I–”
“It’s not something you can control, so I’m not mad.” He reassures you, but no amount of reassuring is going to make you feel better for what you’re doing to him. 
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After breaking up with Akito, you take a week to decide on what you actually want to do. You love Satoru, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that you should be together. You come to the conclusion that you want to try one last time; you’ve already wasted four years on him, would it hurt to waste some more time?
You contact him first, and you agree to take things slow. So painfully slow for Satoru, but he’ll take all that you’ll give him. He understands why you don’t want to rush things, so he isn’t annoyed by the fact that your relationship progresses slowly– But he’ll admit he’s tired of using his hand all the time.
A year after reconciling, you leave Satoru high and dry. The most you do is make out, and just when you’re moving to the next base, things come to a stop. You go back home, not even accepting the offer to cuddle. 
But tonight is the night, Satoru feels it in the air.
He’s cleaning up after cooking you a decent meal while you do something. He’s not sure what you’re doing, but he’s happy as long as you’re near. He couldn’t care less if you’re snooping around or stuffing something into your pockets to take back to your own place. 
“Satoru!” You yell, making the man nearly drop a plate. He bites down his lip, knowing that you’re in the bedroom. This is it, he’s sure. But he still has to clean up… Screw it. He can clean up in the morning.
“I’m coming!” He yells, putting the plate down in the sink and nearly running to the bedroom to go after you.
He finds you sitting on the bed, a smile on your face. This is it. 
You stand up, taking a couple of steps toward him before your hands meet behind his neck. You kiss his lips as Satoru’s hands go straight to your ass– That’s the most you’ve let him do. Poor guy has suffered enough, at the very least he can squeeze your butt to deal with this torment.
“What do you think if we–” You begin, and he frantically nods which makes you giggle.
You pull away from him, not allowing him to help as you take off your clothes. His hands go to your hips, but they’re quickly slapped away. You don’t need any help, but he doesn’t mind. Even when you take things so slow tonight. He’s not mad that you’re doing things slow tonight, he’s been waiting for so long to feel you, so he’ll appreciate every second of it. 
Satoru knows that he loves you, but staring at your beauty like this just confirms it more than ever. What a fool he was to even reject you once. And he almost hits himself as you get naked in front of him. How dare he?
Satoru helps you onto the bed before pecking your lips. Satoru begins to hungrily kiss down your neck, going down to your breasts. His tongue rolls around your nipple sucking. His soft hand caresses your thigh, the mere act making you squeeze your legs together. He hums against your nipple, something that earns a moan from you. A simple moan that nearly makes the man come in his pants… He’s needed you for so long.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He says when he unlatches from your nipple. He kisses your breasts before going down and kissing your stomach, praising just how beautiful and perfect you are. He’s never been as lucky as tonight– Or well, the night that you decided to give him another chance.
He kisses down until he reaches your cunt, a smirk on his lips but he won’t spread your legs apart just yet. He begins to kiss your thick thighs, the sudden urge to bite down consuming him. It’s just a tiny bite that makes a small cry come from your lips. But you don’t stop him because it feels so good. He licks his lips, looking at his late night meal. 
His head goes down, tongue licks up your folds, almost going insane at the taste of you on his tongue. Satoru spits on your cunt before his lips go to your clit, a moan leaving your lips as you feel his warm mouth on you. 
“Oh, daddy. It’s so good.” Your moans sound like music to his ears. He’s sure he’s enjoying this more than you, even when you begin to moan daddy in total pleasure, he’s sure that he’s missed this more.
Satoru’s mouth kisses your clit before detaching, his tongue going down from your clit to the entrance of your pussy. He teases it, while his thumb plays with your clit. He’s already driving you insane, doing everything that he knows drives you insane. He wants your body to feel like it’s on ecstasy. He needs you to think of him and only him when you need some relief.
His tongue goes back up to your clit, circling around it while his fingers gather your slick.  He pushes two fingers in, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. They’re just so thick and long, it’s hard for you to contain yourself. You can’t help but moan, “It’s so good, daddy!”
It encourages him even more. He curves his fingers so they brush against your sweet spot, making you get even louder than before. Your voice is like music to his ears, and he wants to keep hearing it so he’ll do anything and everything to get a reaction from you. He remembers your body better than he expected, though he doubts that it’s something that he’ll ever forget.
He makes it clear how much he loves eating your pussy, moaning against your cunt with every lap of his tongue. Your thighs squeeze around him as you get lost in your own feelings of satisfaction. He’s going crazy. He can die happily right here.
You’re getting louder as pressure builds up on your lower abdomen, your climax approaching. Satoru feels you squeeze around him, fulfilling him. He’s completing his duty. A duty he should’ve been doing over the years.
He’s glad he’s back in between your legs, tasting you on his tongue. There’s no sweeter melody than you moaning in complete pleasure because of him. Your back arches, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you reach your peak, but that doesn’t stop Satoru. He takes his fingers out but his tongue keeps lapping at your cunt, running through your folds but mainly focusing on your clit. 
Satoru isn’t stopping until he’s satisfied, which makes you grab a fistful of his hair and pull him away. He whines but it doesn’t take him too long to kiss up your body until he reaches your lips. He pecks your lips over and over again until you put your hand over his mouth to stop him. 
“I need you so bad, Satoru.” You tell him, and Satoru doesn’t waste a second. He gets undressed in less than thirty seconds, grabbing your legs and putting them over his shoulders. He spits on your cunt before running the tip of his cock through your folds before teasing your entrance. You’re not one for begging, but you’re nearly begging the man to put it in. You’re desperate. “I need to feel you, daddy. Please, please, please! I need it.”
Satoru is dying inside because he doesn’t feel you around him. He needs you more than you need him. Right now. Always. Satoru pushes himself in, a breathy moan escaping his lips as he feels you around him. 
“You feel so good, baby.” He moans as he gives you a moment to adjust to his size. He begins with slow thrusts, one hand on your plush thigh while the other is on your hip. “I missed you so much.”
His eyes are glued to your face of pleasure, and the look on your face drives him weak. You’re so fucking beautiful, it’s crazy for him that you’re actually with him. Satoru moans your name before biting down his lip. He doesn’t want to be too loud, he’ll just look pathetic.
“Right there–” You moan as he begins to pick up speed. His cock hits every right spot, and it won’t take too long for you to reach your peak again after your first orgasm. It feels like he’s doing everything to drive you over the edge, and you can’t complain.
You’re squeezing around his cock, and he feels like this is an out of body experience with how good he feels. His nails are digging into your soft skin as he tries to contain himself. The hand that’s on your hip goes to your clit, he wants to ensure you orgasm again before he finishes.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He says. You hate the fact that no one will ever please you the way Satoru does. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why you’re getting back together. He goes just at the right speed, filling you with so much pleasure. Satoru does everything in his power to fulfill you.
You’re coating his cock with your juices, moaning loudly as your second orgasm of the night slowly gets the best of you. Perhaps it’s your high talking, but you’re so glad you took him back, and that you’re having sex with him tonight. You have no idea for how much longer you could’ve gone without him. 
“Oh daddy– I’m gonna–” You begin to announce but before you can finish your sentence, your orgasm washes over you. You drive him absolutely insane, how could he have ever screwed things up so badly?
“Can I–” He begins as his thrusts get sloppy, surprised that he’s lasted this long. You couldn’t give him a more resounding yes.
He swore he was done for when you got naked in front of him. He’s moaning, feeling too good as you’re wrapped around him. He can never go so long without you again– In every manner, truly.
Satoru comes to a stop deep inside of you, grunting before filling you up with his cum. He remains buried deep inside of you until he makes sure every drop of his cum is inside of you. When he pulls out, he lays down beside you.
He brings you into his warmth as he kisses your forehead over and over again. Words can’t even describe how he feels as he lays down beside you. He’s needed this for longer than he thought.
He kisses the tip of your nose before saying, “I’ve missed this so much. You’re so perfect.”
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Giving Satoru another chance was one of the best decisions that you could’ve made. Though things took a while to come together, and you don’t blindly trust him like you once did, your relationship is nearly perfect. Sure, Satoru has his flaws but you’re over the moon while you’re at his side.
Things took a while to start up, but then things escalated fast. By a year and five months you were engaged. By two years you were married, which made everyone happy; especially his parents who have always seen you as a daughter. And now after three years, you’re pregnant with your first child.
You’re six months along, expecting a healthy baby. You and Satoru came to an agreement to keep the sex of the baby a surprise, which does cause you to bicker since you think you’re expecting a boy and he badly wants a baby girl. He swears he’s happy regardless.
You’re happy your relationship isn’t stale, like it once was. Truly, every day by Satoru’s side is magical. Though right now…
“Are you almost ready? The venue is an hour away.” You remind Satoru as he decides which tie he wants to wear. Akito’s getting married, and although you don’t have much contact with the man, he’s invited you and Satoru to come; of course, you couldn’t pass up on the opportunity.
“You can’t rush beauty, my love.” Satoru jokes, making you roll your eyes. He decides to go with a navy blue tie, and he rushes to your side for you to tie it.
“If we’re late, I’m going to be so mad.” You remind him, as you tie his tie for him. You feel his hands resting on your bump, caressing the soft fabric of your dress as a subtle smile comes to his lips.
“It sounds like a dream. You’re so hot when you’re mad.” Satoru says before kissing your forehead. You roll your eyes, knowing that you can’t be too mad at him when he’s just trying to lighten the situation.
“Can you stop moving?” You ask him, and he hums in response. You kiss his cheek when you’re finished, turning around to walk away before being promptly stopped by Satoru. He wraps his arms around your bump, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“Can’t we just stay? Watch a movie or–” He begins, and you glare back at him. “Got it, we have to go.”
“That man helped me through some of my toughest times, the least we can do is go to his wedding and give him a very expensive gift.” You lecture him, and Satoru pouts like a child that’s getting scolded. “Now hurry up.”
“See, you’re hot when you’re mad.” Satoru responds, and you glare at him as if you could kill him. He won’t lie and say it’s not a bit scary, but he’s feeling an emotion that perhaps he shouldn’t be feeling.
You begin to walk away, leaving him to finish getting ready. Even though you’re a pregnant woman, Satoru somehow manages to take longer than you to get ready.
“I love you!” He yells, hoping to calm down the anger that brews inside of you. He should know better than to mess around with your hormonal self, but Satoru can’t help his personality at times.
A sigh escapes your lips, knowing that you can’t leave him hanging as much as he’d love to.
“Love you too, Satoru!”
936 notes · View notes
mochinomnoms · 2 days ago
Text
say you can't sleep, baby, I know
NSFW!Trey x Reader
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Synopsis
You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? You're trying to rile him up, right? He's supposed to be the responsible, big brother of Heartslabyul, he tries so hard. So, so hard to stay out of trouble and have a normal day-to-day life. Trey used to pride himself on his levelheadedness and restraint, but that all went out the window into a swan dive into the lake when he saw you in his bed in that damn one-piece. “Happy Birthday Trey~”
[wc} - 5,258
[cw/tags] - afab!gn!reader (im sorry folks it's all i know how to write still), NRC is a university in this, domesticity kink, birthday sex, breeding kink (sue me), oral (giving & receiving), trey can be a little mean as a treat
[notes] - i apologize for the person i've become after seeing trey's new b-day card. it does things to me and this is 100% self-indulgent for me. also, tried to use very neutral descriptors for reader so tell me how that went and if it reads well! lastly, the outfit the reader wears is based on sabrina carpenter's outfits from her short n' sweet tour, specifically the baby doll one!
Written while listening to “Espresso” by Sabrina Carpenter, I recommend listening to it while reading :)
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Let’s consider exactly the type of person Trey is.
Ever since he’s started school at NRC, he’s always taken a bit of a parental role in Heartslabyul, even before he became vice housewarden. Even Cater would joke about it when they first became friends:
“You’re, like, a total big bro! O-M-G, no! You’re like a dad friend! I’m totes willing to bet that the incoming freshmen are gonna slip up! Call you Dad or something!”
Evidently, when Riddle came into the picture and Trey was appointed his vice, Cater was proven right. He didn’t mind it too much, despite what others might think. 
He liked the familiarity of it, being the oldest at home, it translated well into his position at Heartslabyul, and it came with the added bonus of being able to minimize any chaos that arose. 
That was his main goal, especially with Riddle’s temper during his freshman and at the beginning of his sophomore year. Honestly, he had phenomenal conflict resolution skills, and he just wanted to make his life as easy as possible. 
Everyone at this school liked to make that difficult, though, especially the freshmen of this year.
“Oh fu—I mean sh—dam—fuc—shi—FIDDLESTICKS!”
“Dude, just say fuck, why you gotta say the corniest shit—OW—Treyyy! Deuce hit me!”
Deuce had a guilty look on his face as Trey looked up from his notebook to raise a brow at the two.
“W-well, Ace cussed, so he has to put money in the swear jar!”
“Aw what! Come on Trey!” Ace whined, shoving Deuce’s face to the side as the latter grunted and started pulling at his cheeks and arm. “Riddle’s not here, he’ll never know, so I don’t gotta! Don’t make me!”
Trey simply smirked and gestured to the jar on the fireplace mantle, helpfully available to everyone in the lounge. 
“You know the rules, bud, two thaurmarks for the f-bomb and a .50 cent for the other.”
Ace tossed his head back and groaned, begrudgingly dragging himself over to the jar as he dug around his pocket for change.
“Don’t be rude to your father, Ace.” A few giggles and snorts vibrated amongst the small group studying in the lounge as you wagged a finger at Ace, Grim squinting angrily at the book in your lap. 
Your lips quivered as you hid a laugh, jokingly chastising the ginger. 
“No need to be a brat.”
Trey had to withhold a snort at that comment, rich coming from you. He knew better than anyone that you could be as much of a brat as you were another parental figure.
“Oh ha-ha, very funny, Prefect. What, does that make you, Mom or Dad 2?” Ace stuck his tongue out at you as you grinned and focused back on Grim. 
“Okay Grimmy, so remember, what alchemy recipes need mandrake root?”
Watching from the corner of his eye, Trey watched fondly as you murmured soft words to Grim. It reminded him of his Mom talking to his siblings after a nightmare, or of his Dad after one of them would get hurt in the kitchen. 
Soft, soothing, parental. You’d make an excellent parent one day. 
Trey felt himself get warm at the thought, adjusting himself in his seat and looking back at his musicology notes. He couldn’t sing very well, but he can memorize notes, and that’s what the upcoming exam was focused on. 
That’s what he needed to focus on, not the way you cradled Grim against you like a parent with their child. Focus on his alchemy flashcards, and not the way you cleaned up the mess on the table so you could bring everyone a tray of snacks he’d prepared earlier that day. Focus on the history textbook in front of him, and not the way you cleaned up the lounge as it got later and later.
It wasn’t fair. It was so unfair how well you fell into the role. Cleaning and humming, one of his spare aprons on you as you wiped down the tables of crumbs and stacked a pile of dishes. It was unfair how sweetly you murmured to the few remaining students, and told them to go to bed and rest up. 
They obliged, probably half asleep at this rate, since it was an hour until midnight. Ace and Deuce had retired a while ago, the latter leaning on the former as they haphazardly stumbled to their room. 
Riddle had dropped by after his housewarden meeting, satisfied by the study group, but ultimately stuck to his very strict evening routine. 
Now it was just you two. Even Grim had been tugged along with Ace and Deuce earlier, not unlike a rag doll slung over their shoulders. 
“Trey? Honey, when are you going to sleep? It’s almost midnight.” His eyes fluttered tiredly as he felt your hands slide over his shoulders and a kiss pressed against his temple.
He felt warm again, heat pooling in his belly. You were so unfair. 
“You should go to bed soon, come on, I’ll take care of you.”
He can think of a few ways you could ‘take care’ of him. 
“It’s fine, why don’t you get Grim and head back to Ramshackle? Curfew is in 30 minutes, you know?”
You rolled your eyes, sighing into his ear, making a tingle go down his spine.
“Okay, but please go to bed soon? I left you a little birthday surprise in your bedroom~”
Trey perked up at that, eyeing your mischievous grin as you waved your fingers goodbye, going down the hallway to the dorms to grab Grim.
To be honest, he’d forgotten that his birthday was tomorrow, he’d been so focused on his midterms that it just slipped his mind. Well, he can’t say he’s not excited to see what you got him, especially since you’d been not too subtly probing him for preferences.
He groaned, running his hands over his face and sighing, heavy and exhausted.
“Ugh, just a bit more and I’ll retire for the night.” Trey reassured himself, eyes straining as he looked between the books in front of him. 
The words on the papers blurred after a bit, the sound of the grandclock lulling him further into sleep, his head nodding off until a ping from his phone started him awake.
It was Cater, his Magicam user popping up on his screen. 
cay-cay_diamond: hbd trey!! 🥳🎉🎉🎉grats on being an old man now!
Blinking at the clock, Trey realized that it was now a few minutes past midnight, so it was technically his birthday. He’s lucky that Riddle followed his own sleep schedule so rigorously, or else he’d be getting a scolding for breaking curfew.
luckyclover: Old? I’m only like 4 months older than you cay-cay_diamond: yeah. old. cay-cay_diamond: anyways! enjoy the gift in ur room!!! i helped (name) pick out the wrapping 😘😘😘
Trey hummed, a small smile on his face as he imagined the two of you bickering over wrapping paper and messily wrapping up a box with a bow. You did seem very excited for him to find it earlier, maybe you two picked something out together. 
He was curious on what exactly you got him and why you hadn’t waited to give it to him at his actual birthday party. And why did you need Cater to help you…you’d always shoo him away when he’d tried helping you with gifts for other’s birthdays. 
Stacking his books into his left hand and walking towards the junior dorm rooms, Trey looked at his phone as it pinged again. 
cay-cay_diamond: on that topic thooo…u should rly go 2 ur room and get ur present! the poor thing! they’ve been w8ing very patiently 4 u~ luckyclover: Waiting? (Name)??? cay-cay_diamond: 🤭🤫😉
Trey sighed, shaking his head and tucking his phone away and digging out his room keys. It was times like these, deep into the night, when he was thankful for having his own room. He felt a bit bad now, you probably fell asleep in his bed waiting for him. 
Though, the thought of you clutching one of his pillows, maybe in one of his sweaters to keep warm, made him smile. Then he could come in, gently take your clothes and shoes off to get you more comfortable, and dress down himself to slip in right behind you.
As he finally managed to get to his room, he heard shuffling as he turned the keys. Trey smirked, noticing that only his rose lamp remained on, and all the drapes to his canopy were now closed. 
He could just barely make out the shadow of you moving behind them, hearing you gasp and the bed squeak, making him let out a soft laugh under his breath.
“You’re breaking curfew, you should be asleep you know? You're such a troublemaker sometimes.” Trey teased you as placed his books on his desk, tossing his hat onto its stand and slipping his shoes off to throw them into his wardrobe and grab his slippers. 
He yawned, the late night really starting to sink into his body as he started undressing, his jacket and vest getting hung back up in the closet as he worked on his sash and unbuttoning his pants.  
“Only like a third of the time!” You whined, the bed softly squeaking as you followed his movements behind the canopy. “Besides, I really wanted to give you your present. Don’t you want to unwrap me?”
Trey paused at the purr in your voice, narrowing his gaze as he saw your hand ever so slightly move the curtain at the end of the bed to peek at him. You were still mostly shrouded in darkness, but there was a very soft glow coming from inside the canopy, so he could just barely make out your mischievous smile.
Though, you quickly frowned, eyeing him up and down out of concern. 
“Not if you’re too tired though, you have bags under your eyes, Trey. Do you just wanna go to sleep?”
Giving you a weary smile, Trey finally tossed his sash to the side and reached for the curtains, pushing them to the side to finally take a look at your “mysterious” present. 
“In a bit, let me see what you got me…”
Trey’s breath hitched, he suddenly felt very wide awake as his eyes roamed up and down your body. 
From the corner of his eye, he could see that you set up string lights along the top of the canopy for ambiance, making you look like you were almost glowing. Though it wasn’t that that made him lose his voice. 
You were sitting on the edge of his bed with your legs curled underneath you, dressed in the most darling sage-green, sheer baby doll dress. The dress's puffy sleeves and hem were lacy, matching the lace on the stockings. 
Holy shit you were wearing stockings.
“Ha, I wanted to surprise you, I thought you could use a stress reliever.”
You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?
“I should’ve realized that you’d be tired from studying for midterms, sorry.”
You're trying to rile him up, right?
“But, still, do you like it? I wrapped myself up just for you~”
He's supposed to be the responsible, big brother of Heartslabyul, he tries so hard. So, so hard to stay out of trouble and have a normal day-to-day life. To behave.
“In any case,” You shifted onto your knees, the dress splitting in the middle, the only thing keeping it together being a small bow at the base of your neck, revealing the lack of undergarments, just your bare skin underneath. “Even if you’re too tired and just want to sleep, I just wanted to say…”
Trey leaned in as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in, batting your eyelashes and ghosting your lips over his with a teasing smile. Your hands caressed the back of his neck, a thumb rubbing soothing circles, making him melt. 
“Happy Birthday Trey~”
It’s now that he noticed that you even added a gloss to your lips, and he could smell the warm perfume on your neck as you pressed your lips to his, tongue swiping over his mouth, asking for permission to enter. Obliging, Trey sighed into the kiss and tangled his tongue with yours, his hands slipping underneath the baby doll and squeezing at your waist.
He really should go to sleep. He has to wake up early for the party. He has to dress in his birthday robes. He has to make sure that the others don’t burn down the kitchen or damage his expensive bakeware as they made his cake. 
But the way your skin felt under his gloved hands, skin meeting skin, lace, skin, and lace again.
How could he be expected to sleep now?
Trey used to pride himself on his level headedness and restraint, but that all went out the window into a swan dive into the lake when he saw you in his bed in that damn one-piece.
Humming in delight against your mouth, Trey slid his hands down, as you curled into his body in response, and squeezed at the fat of your thighs before picking you up. 
A yelp left your mouth as he picked you up and tossed you up the bed, pulling off his shirt and tossing it behind him as he crawled on top of you.
His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he saw the way the dress fell open to expose your body, your chest moving up and down as you watched him with a giddy smile. 
“Oh! I guess you’re not that tired—ah!”
You gasped as Trey grabbed your calves, tugging you up to place the back of your knees on his shoulders. He leaned in to press a chaste kiss to your right thigh, smirking against the lace. 
“I was tired. I should be asleep,” Trey murmured against your stocking laced skin, pressing kisses as he went farther and farther down. “Resting—kiss—Up—kiss—but no.”
He gave you a half-hearted glare, which you responded with a smile and lacing your hands through his hair as he pressed another kiss to the bend where your thigh met your sex. 
“You broke curfew, you wanted to keep me up with your little ‘present’, you know I’d get in trouble for hiding you out in my room.”
Trey gave you a bite on your thigh, groaning as he felt your hands tighten in his hair, moving back to press a soothing kiss to the mark he left.
“Are you trying to get me in trouble? Throw me in the doghouse?”  “Cause I’ll make sure you come right with me, after a little taste of my birthday treat.”
The same time he ran his tongue up your sex, Trey could feel you shiver and pull on his hair as he ate you feverishly, like a man starved from food or water for ages. 
“Mmm! Trey!” You threw your head back, bringing one hand up to slam a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries, the walls here weren’t known to be sound-proof. 
He should probably care a bit more, especially when you let out a particularly high-pitched squeal as his tongue began fucking into your hole. 
“Trey! Oooh, Trey~” 
Bringing a finger to join his tongue, Trey smiled against your skin as you squeezed your thighs around his head, using his free hand to push his pants and underwear down to palm at his dick. 
“Trey—aaaah—wait, let me—mmph—Honey—” You let out a shuddering gasp, pulling his head up from your sex. Trey locked eyes with you, leaning into the hand you slid down to cup his cheek and caress his lower lips, wiping the slick and drool from the corner of his mouth.
“Yes? Honey?” Removing his hand from inside you to cover your own hand and kiss your palm, Trey smiled and hummed, “I like that, you know, reminds me of a husband coming home to his spouse.”
Pressing kisses up your body, soft and tingly, up your neck, and back to your lips where they belonged.
“Hmm, I really like the sound of that, (Name) Clover.” You murmured against his lips, smiling as you wrapped a leg around his waist to bring his dick closer to your sex, rubbing against him as you both sighed into each other’s mouths. 
“Is that what you want? You want me to be a cute little spouse? Dress up in a cute apron? Greet you when you come home from work?”
So focused on the softness of your lips and the wetness sliding against his dick, Trey didn’t even notice you twisting your body to turn him onto his back, the back of his head hitting the back of his pillows as you sat on top with a cheeky grin. 
“Hm? How would my husband want me to welcome him home? A hug? A kiss? Mm, what about…me?” Trey watched you with flushed cheeks as you kissed down his body, mimicking his earlier actions as you helped him tug off the rest of his clothes. 
“Oh, how nice it would be for you to come back to a warm, clean home with a spouse…” Looking up at him through your eyelashes and giving him a kitten lick to his tip. “...ready to give soft wet holes for you to fill~”
Giving him a vision into that sweet, sweet future, you swallowed his tip, down his shaft, and started sucking. 
“Haaah—”
Trey lolled his head back into his pillow, letting out a breathless moan as you bobbed your head up and down his length, your hand working the rest that didn’t fit into your mouth. 
“Fuuuuck. That does sound nice—mmh!” Reaching his hand down, you immediately took one of your hands to lace it with his, squeezing it as you hummed around his cock. 
“My lovely spouse—nnnngh—their pretty mouth—unnnh—soft holes—aaaah—all for me to come home to every day, what a dream~”
A particularly harsh suck made Trey arch his back and squeeze your hand harder, a giggle vibrating his dick as you pulled off. 
“Hehe, is this your way of proposing? Kinda dirty to do it with your dick on my mouth.” You giggled, pressing kisses and quick licks along his shaft. 
“That’s okay though, you and I both know that deep down, you’re a bit of a pervert. Right?”
Trey scoffed, tugging you up with a bemused smile. “Yeah? How can you tell? Thought I hid that pretty well.”
A soft laugh escaping you, you held both of his hands, bringing them up to press kisses on his knuckles, making the green-haired man sigh fondly. 
“The way you look at me sometimes, like you’re undressing me. It makes me feel all warm and tingly, especially when I piss you off.”
Both of you let out a breathless moan as your wetness rubbed against his hard dick, grinding against one another as the tip occasionally caught against your hole, making you shiver. 
“Is it bad that sometimes I wanna get you mad so you’ll fuck me real mean? Is it bad that I want you to use me? To fuck your stress out with me?”
A lump forming in his throat, Trey let go of your hands to pull at the string holding your flimsy baby doll together. Eyes half lidded, he pushed the fabric off your shoulders, watching it pool at your elbows as you placed your hands on his chest to steady yourself as your grinding turned into vigorous humping against him, making you both gasp in pleasure. 
“Ooh, Trey, honey, baby, hubby~ Won’t you use me? Be a little mean? Pleeeease? Fuck me, fill me up like I know you want! Pleeeeease Trey? Pretty, pretty please?”
Lips smashed against yours as Trey bolted up, groaning into your mouth as he grabbed your hips in an almost painful grip. 
He picked you up once again, throwing you on all fours, covers tangling against your knees and hands, as he ripped your dress off and tossed it. 
Trey’s left hand placed itself on your hip, while his right pushed down on your back, following up your spine to the base of your neck where he pushed you down to shove your face into the sheets, forcing you into a doggy pose.
“So you do like getting me in trouble, little brat. Fine, I’ll be mean.” 
Trey lined his dick against your throbbing hole, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your ear and moving the hand on your neck to wove with your right, squeezing it reassuringly. 
“Squeeze three times if you need me to stop, otherwise, I’m going to fuck that brain right out of your pretty little head, since you don’t seem to be wanting to use it.”
In one, swift move, Trey slammed his hips to your ass, sinking nearly half his length into your warm, waiting hole. 
“FUCK! YES—MMMPH” Burying your face into the sheets to muffle your cries, Trey did the same into your shoulder, shivering at your tightness around him. 
Setting a rhythm, hips smacking into your ass, Trey worked the rest of his cock into you until he could hear the smack of your ass against his hips, the sound echoing with the creak of the bed.
Your tightness around him was heavenly, as was the sight of you sinking further into the bed and arching your ass to sloppily meet his thrusts. Straightening again, bending your arm back so that your hands could remain intertwined.
His left hand caressed your back and the fat of your behind, before bringing it down in a harsh slap to your ass, making you yelp and squeeze his hand in a vice grip, though you also tightened around his cock. 
Rubbing a soothing circle against the reddening skin, slowed his thrusts, making you whine and push against him. 
“Haaah, that okay? Feel good?” Trey murmured, smiling at the frantic nod and wiggle against him. “Want me to keep going?”
“Mmmph... yessshh... mmmore, mmmore... pleeeashh, honey~” Your sounds were muffled as you bit into the blanket, getting higher and higher as he obliged, not one to deny you after all. 
Every other thrust was met with a slap to one cheek, then the other, the skin turning redder and redder with his handprints marking you. The harder he went, the more and more slack you went, until he was eventually just fucking you like his personal toy. 
Though, you did offer yourself as his present, didn’t you? So it was only fair that he got to use his present as he wished, and right now, he wanted to feel you cumming around him. 
Ceasing his smacks, making you whine, Trey instead melded his body against yours, the weight both overwhelming and comforting, as his left hand instead moved to your sex to rub you to completion. 
Trey watched as you gasped for breath, completely burying your head into the bed to muffled your screams as you came around him, trembling and squeezing him. 
The feeling of your walls pulsating around his shaft was becoming dangerously addicting, and he was very greedy for more of that. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m so close! You can give me another one, right?”
Slipping his arms around your waist and pulling you up, Trey adjusted you so that you sat on his dick, kissing the side of your neck for reassurance as he let go of your hand to quickly slide his arms under your knees. 
From all his years of tossing bags of flour and sugar, from kneading dough, from all the labor he’s done as a baker, picking you up was like child’s play. 
Folding your knees up to your chest so he could hold you, back flush to his chest, was nothing for him. Everything for you, though, your over sensitive hole squeezing down on him again.  
“FUCK! I caaame! Treytreytreytrey—” You dug a hand into his arm, tossing your head back and lolling your tongue out with a dumb, drooly smile on your lips. 
“A-almost there—nngh—just squeeze if I need to stop—I’m so close~”
Smashing his lips against yours for an open mouth, wet kiss, Trey pounded faster into you, determined to feel your walls pulsate again, this time as he filled your insides up like one of his pastries. 
Then, an awful, perverted thought filled his head, like a devil was whispering in his ear. 
Why doesn’t he fill them up with his kids? Don’t stop until his cum is drooling out of their hole, and go again to make up for the lost seed. He already wants them to be his spouse, why not add a few little ones to that picture?
Trey was losing any bit of restraint that he may have had as he was now determined to fullfill his fantasy. Even if you couldn’t do it, magic made anything here possible, and right now is good practice anyway.
“I’m—aaaahhh—I’m gonna come inside, okay? Fill you up, yeah?”
Digging your nails into his skin, you nodded against his mouth and whined. 
“Yessssss! Fill me up! Inside! Gimme a baby Trey! I wanna make you a daaaaddy~”
Squeezing your legs further against your chest, Trey pounded faster and faster, trembling as he reached close and closer to his peak. 
Warmth flooded his body, tingles, and he swears sparks, flying over his skin as he felt you clamp down on him for a third time. 
Your voice squealed higher and higher, any previous attempt to be quiet for naught as you practically screamed.
Trey shuddered as he finally came, cum flooding your warm insides as you went limp in his arms. 
Panting for air, both of you remained still for a minute, the bed feeling stuffy with the curtains still closed. After another minute, Trey pulled you up and off of him, shaky as his now limp dick left your warm, comfortable embrace.
Doing his best to gently place you on the bed, Trey let out a breathless laugh as you collapsed on the bed like a rag doll, blinking your eyes tiredly at the ceiling of the canopy. 
“Haah, sorry, I went too hard there, huh?”
You shook your head, giving him a tired smile and reaching a hand for him, which he took and brought up to kiss. 
“It was good, really, good. You liked your present?”
Snorting and nodding, Trey carefully scooped you up to move your head onto the pillows and gently roll off your garter stocking, thumbs rubbing soothing circles as he did. 
“Yeah, I did. Come on, let me get you a shirt.”
You whined as he pulled away, exhaustion starting to steep into him as he tied back the curtains to the canopy to let the stuffiness out. Trey picked up the baby doll he’d tossed earlier, placing it into his wardrobe drawer as he dug out a shirt and sweatpants for himself and a shirt for you.
As he closed the drawer, he noticed your backpack hidden underneath it, digging in it to grab you some underwear. You had packed a pair of pajamas, apparently, but…he’d rather see you in his clothes. 
“Hmm, honey? Come to bed…” You whined, hands reaching out for him impatiently as he slipped on his clothes, crawling over to you and helping you slip your underwear and his shirt on. 
“I’m here, I’m here.”
Trey slowly blinked, eyelids heavy as he scoop you up to place you two under the covers, the soft mattress making him practically become one with the bed and you as you nestled into his chest. 
Your legs tangled with his as Trey wrapped his arms around you and tucked your head under his chin. He could feel fatigue and sleep quickly taking over him as your voice vibrated against his chest, soft and sleepy. 
“Happy birthday honey, I—yawn—love…you…”
A different kind of warmth, soft and sweet, filled him as he squeezed you tighter against him, murmuring back. 
“I love you too…”
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*Riiiing* *Riiiiiiiing* *Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing*
An irritating, loud noise filled Trey’s ears as he groaned, half-awake as he turned over to smack his hand on his phone, silencing the alarm. 
“Aah…Noisy…hhggh.” Trey groaned, rolling over, careful to not crush you under him to blindly reach for his glasses. 
“Glasses…glasses…ah..”
Plastic and glass finally under his palm, Trey slipped his glasses on his face, ultimately throwing himself back into bed next to you, who’d begun shifting awake.
“Mmm, honey?” 
Grunting in response, Trey threw an arm over his eyes, irritated at the sun seeping through the window into his eyes. 
“Early…”
You chuckled, a yawn escaping you as you decided to move closer and slip a hand under his shirt to rub at his chest, pressing kisses into his neck as well. 
“You’re so grumpy in the morning. Come on, you've got a big day ahead.”
“…Ugh, I do?”
Snorting at his response, Trey grunted as he felt you move, peaking under his arm to see you resting on your elbow. You had puffy, dark circles under your eyes from the little sleep you managed to get. 
“Birthdays are a pretty big deal, right?” Smiling at him, Trey squinted an eye and groaned, squeezing his eyes shut in protest.
“Ugggh, yeah…”
Hearing you hum, Trey groaned in surprise as he felt you straddle his waist and caress his neck and cheeks, making him remove his arm to blink up at you. 
Your hair was a tangled mess, sticking up in all sorts of places. The bags under your eyes more noticeable under the night. His shirt dwarfed you. You were a hot mess, all things considered. 
He probably wouldn’t say it out loud, with how cute you were last night, but he thinks you look most beautiful like this. Better than any frilly, skimpy, or tight outfit.
“Come on, Birthday Boy, want me to give you a little pick me up?”
Kissing him with a smile, Trey moaned into the lazy, sloppy morning kiss, tilting his head back as you pressed kissed down his neck, deciding to work on leaving a love bite at the nape of his neck.
Trey’s phone chimed, making him sigh as he reached for it, letting you continue your love bites and kisses, 
Squinting at the few messages, it seemed like a few of his friends and classmates were already sending him birthday wishes. Though, a message from Cater made him blot up, a sudden shock of alertness running down his spine. 
“Ah! Trey, what is it?”
cay-cay_diamond: morning!! happy bday 2 the bday boi again! thought i let u no tht u owe me a favor, had 2 cast a silencing spell on ur roum last nite. totes ruined my beauty sleep! cay-cay_diamond: also i know u got ur lil cutie 2 distract ya, but liek dont b l8 2 ur bday breakfast, grimmy might eat it!
“Shit, we were too loud, Cater had to cast a silencing spell on the room.”
You made an ‘oh’ shape with your mouth, giving Trey an apologetic smile. 
“Sorry, but at least you enjoyed it, right?”
Trey smiled, more awake now, and nodded, sharing a sweet kiss with you. 
“Definitely. You might have to consider making your go-to gift for now on, it’s gotta be my favorite one I’ve ever gotten.”
He solidified that statement with one more, firm, assuring kiss with you, before having to leave your sweet dream into the real world. 
At least he could have one part of that dream with him at his side from now on: you. 
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comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷
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itoshiexx · 3 days ago
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WHEN YOU'RE MAD AND USE THEIR FULL NAME
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how the blue lock boyfriends react when you're mad and use their full name
pairings: isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro and itoshi sae x gn!reader (separate) | warnings: little arguments, angst if u squint, reader is kinda hot headed? lol, mostly fluff and the boys wanting to be in your good graces.
notes: did i kick depression in the ass to finish this? not really. but it worked, and here i am! this is my nagi seishiro debut omgggg hopefully i did him justice and he's not too ooc. also new design for the scenarios to match my theme. enjoy, lovelies! let me know if you'd like especific scenarios and send me an ask :)
masterlist
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ISAGI YOICHI
yoichi hoped he would die. 
really. 
it’s the least he deserved for making you angry — even more so because he didn’t know what made you angry in the first place. he spent the last fifteen minutes excavating his mind to try and remember what could have ticked you off so much that you don’t even wanna look at him.
he hates it. isagi needs your eyes on him, needs to hear your voice and touch your skin. and with the way you’re so silent and distant, he might be just like a man in the desert without water.
“baby,” he looked at you on the other end of the couch, intently watching the tv show in front of you.  just a glimpse would make him breathe again. just a nod would ease his nerves. hell, he would even take a glare, as long as you were looking at him.
but he got nothing. zero. nada.
“baby, please,” he tried again. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make you mad.”
you furrowed your eyebrows, but still didn’t spare him a glance. he sighed.
“i’ll never do it agai—”
“do you even know why you’re apologizing, isagi yoichi?!” you asked, exasperated. your boyfriend froze on the spot when hearing his full name, because of course he didn’t. 
as far as he knew, you were having a great day together. he bought you breakfast from your favorite bakery, you made a delicious lunch and then you two went out shopping. he even gifted you with a beautiful necklace after an enthusiastic shop employee offered to show him some pieces—
oh.
“you got jealous of the saleswoman?”
“blah blah you got jealous of the saleswoman? heck yeah I did!” you impersonated him with a high pitched, sarcastic voice that showed just how mad you were. “she was all over you, yoichi, and you didn’t do anything!” 
he swallowed thickly, daring to approach you on the couch. he hugged your frame, despite the crossed arms in front of your chest making it a little hard.
“i’m sorry, darling. i didn’t even notice she was being inappropriate because you’re the only one i pay attention to. and i always figured people would never dare be so bold if you’re by my side and we’re clearly together.”
his sweet words coated you, making you glance away, knowing that looking at his puppy eyes would end you for good. 
“you should have done something anyway.”
“i know. i totally should, and i’m sorry i didn’t. i never meant to make you feel bad or let people disrespect you.” he rested his chin on your shoulder, breath shuddering right on your ear.
the sincerity in his voice was enough to chip away your anger, and you visibly relaxed in his embrace. yoichi held a breath of relief, knowing he still had to be careful.
“i’m sorry, baby. it won’t happen again. forgive me, please?” he placed a sweet kiss on your cheek, and god, how could you keep being mad like that?
damn isagi yoichi and his genuine blue eyes.
you uncrossed your arms, embracing his instead, and finally looked at him with love again.
“fine. but just because you’re so charming, ‘ichi.”
he chuckled. “you’re the charming one. i’m totally under your spell, darling.”
and when your lips met, yoichi hoped to keep living just to have more of you.
NAGI SEISHIRO
people would often ask him if his detached, nonchalant persona ever got in his way through his life. seishiro would always say no, because everything and everyone he did care about understood his lazy way and inability to do… pretty much everything.
that didn’t mean he never made the effort, though. as much as nagi liked to live like a sloth and just go on with his life playing video games, there were still things in his life that were worth it. like football. his friends. and you, of course. 
ever since you met, seishiro discovered that being with you wasn’t a bother. and after he fell in love and you became a couple, he found himself eager to indulge you, even if it meant going out of his way. his friends congratulated him and expressed genuine happiness to see how much he improved, and that, along with your beautiful smile, filled his heart with joy. 
however, no matter how much he tried, he was still…
“nagi seishiro.” 
a shiver ran down his spine with the sound of your voice, and not the good kind. he had never heard you sound so stern, so angry, so… disappointed, even. enough to leave a sour taste in his mouth. so much so he immediately lifted his eyes from his console, only to find your harsh gaze.
“ehh? wha’ did i do, angel? don’t say my name like that,” he pouted, crawling towards your body splayed on the bed. 
even when you tried to fight his embrace, nagi took advantage of his large frame to engulf you and lay his head on your chest, so you wouldn’t walk away in case you got any angrier.
“babeeeee,” he whined, hugging you tighter.
“let go of me,” you said, and he just shook his head. “you deserve it. you weren’t even listening to what i was saying, were you?”
what a hassle. he really wasn’t listening, but… well, he got way too focused on beating the last boss. could you really blame him? 
he heard you scoff. “oh, my bad, i should have known it was the last boss. it’s more important than me anyway, right, nagi?”
fuck. fuck. fuck. did he say that out loud? he sounded like a dick. you had every right to be mad and call him by his full or last name. 
nagi lifted his head from your chest to look at you, feeling his throat tighten with the sight of your teary eyes. guilt gnawed at his chest when seeing how upset and frustrated you were. 
“eh, ’m sorry, pretty thing. i got too caught up ‘n didn’t notice you were talking t’me.”
“am i that invisible to you?” a tear almost rolled down your cheek. seishiro shook his head, a little more exasperated than usual. 
“huh? ’f course not, angel. y’re never invisible. all i see is you. y’re the most important to me,” he held eye contact, and even though you wanted to tear your gaze away, seishiro’s eyes were more magnetizing than ever, even if your view was a little blurry.
you knew your boyfriend wasn’t the type to lie, since he always claimed it was a hassle. you knew you were important to him, but his lack of consideration still hurt. 
“i’ll apologize as many times as you wish. ‘m sorry for not listening and making you feel bad. i never wan’ you to feel bad, pretty thing.” 
nagi used his strength to roll around and switch your positions, in a way you were on top of him instead. he started caressing your hair in a soothing motion, making your eyelashes flutter. “y’can talk as much as you want. i promise i’ll listen t’you.”
your eyes welled with tears for a different reason, and you hugged the striker as hard as you could. even if he faltered, seishiro never failed to make up to you and make you feel loved.
“promise, sei?”
“promise.”
ITOSHI SAE
although sae wasn’t exactly smart in the emotions field, he always knew when you weren’t happy with something. you scowled, huffed and rolled your eyes, keeping an eerie silence that was only broken when absolutely necessary. 
at that moment, he was sure you weren’t happy with him.
you both kept to yourselves while still at the event, masquerading any problems for the cameras. sae had a hand at the small of your back and he could feel how stiff you were. the midfielder wouldn't admit that seeing you so uncomfortable around him made his heart pang.
at the limo, the path to your shared penthouse was quiet, and you brushed him off when he tried to hold your hand. sae could only stare at his window with furrowed brows, itching to dissipate this awkward atmosphere. he never liked when you were mad, especially at him.
he expected some sort of explosion when you got to your apartment, but you kept your glaze off him, trying to walk to the bedroom for your night routine without even sparing him a word. 
nuh-uh. that wouldn’t do. 
he held your wrist before you could go, and lightly pulled you so that you were facing him. your eyes widened with the sudden movement, but narrowed as soon as landed on his face. 
“why are you mad?”
you scoffed. the audacity of this man. 
“you know exactly why i’m mad, itoshi sae.”
shit, the government name? you were really fucking angry.
“i wouldn’t be asking if i knew,” he answered, immediately regretting it when you glared at him, as if saying that wasn’t the right answer. “i-i mean… i didn’t realize what was wrong, amor.”
you walked closer to your boyfriend, making him release your wrist. despite his typical stoic face, sae was clinging to your every word.
“itoshi sae, you can not talk to your little brother like that!” you nearly growled on his face, surprising him. “you were very rude and condescending, and that’s no way to speak to rin!”
he frowned. you were mad because of rin? the little green monster inside of him threatened to grow, but he forced him to stay put. sae didn’t want to anger you further, so he simply let his hands slither to your hips, pulling you closer to him.
“i don’t think i was rud—” you lifted one eyebrow, and he rolled his eyes. “fine. i might have been kinda harsh.”
“and?” you crossed your arms.
he sighed. “i will apologize.”
“i’m serious about this, itoshi sae. i will ask rin—”
“i’ll tell him i’m sorry, okay? no need to keep talking about rin.” he interrupted, palms traveling to your ass while he nosed your neck. he planted a small kiss under your ear, huffing a minty breath that made you shudder. sae smirked. “and no need to keep calling me by full name, either. what happened to ‘cariño’?”
you held onto his biceps for some grounding, but still didn’t budge. 
“you weren’t very sweet today, so it’s not fitting.” 
he pouted while hiding in your neck, taking full advantage that you couldn’t see him, but was quick to withdraw to face you once again, touching your noses. one of his hands cradled your jaw, and you sighed with the pathetic effect your boyfriend had on you. 
“perdóname, amor?” he whispered against your lips, eyes sincere like you knew he could be. your poor little heart could never resist him when he was like this, rarely vulnerable and eager for you.
you gave a long exhale, arms moving to tangle around his neck. and folded.
“as long as you make it right, mi cariño.”
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© 2024 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.
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fastandcarlos · 8 hours ago
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"She's In Labour...Now?" : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen
summary: it wasn't supposed to happen yet, especially with max preparing for a race...
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Your body froze, hand coming down to the side of your bump as yet again you felt a stab of pain against your side, struggling to keep yourself balanced. A heavy breath came from you as Sophie’s eyes glanced to your side, immediately moving closer to you. 
Your eyes shut in horror as another twang of pain arrived, leaning against anything that you could find to try and support yourself. Sophie’s hand landed on your back as she watched you, her eyes full of concern. 
“Everything alright?” She asked, although she already knew the answer to the question. “You don’t think you’re going into labour...do you?” 
Your shoulders shrugged, feeling your heart begin to race. “I don’t know, I hope not, Max is about to race any second and I need to be there to watch him.” 
Sophie’s head shook as you spoke, knowing that Max didn’t need to be your priority right now. Before you could argue she had a member of Max’s team rushing around the garage to try and find you, not giving you the chance to protest and assure her that you were fine. 
In a matter of moments Max’s figure came sprinting through the garage, his eyes searching for you. Sophie waved over to him, standing to one side as soon as Max arrived at your side, his arm moving around you to try and support you. 
“Is it happening?” Max nervously asked, looking between you and his mum. 
Just like his Mum, Max didn’t need an answer, already being able to tell for himself. As you went through another stab of pain you grabbed on tightly to Max, letting go of a groan. Max quickly moved to hold you tighter, keeping you against his chest. 
“It’s alright,” he whispered, kissing against the top of your head. “I’m right here with you, I’m not going anywhere,” he added, feeling your eyes glance up at him. 
Your head shook as you tried to step away from Max, but he was far too strong. He kept his hold despite how hard you tried to wriggle out, quickly remembering where you were and what he was supposed to be doing. 
“You can’t be here,” you murmured, “you need to be getting ready to race, you’re on pole, you can’t lose such valuable points Max.” 
“Do you really think I’d leave you right now, like this?” He asked you. 
You immediately felt guilty as Max asked a member of the team to come over, informing them to pass onto Christian that the reserve driver would need to step in for the race. 
“The team aren’t going to be happy,” one of the PR team told him in reply, scratching over the top of their head, “but I guess given the circumstances they’re just going to have to deal with it. We’ll put out a statement and tell everyone that you’re feeling unwell as the reason you’re not there.” 
You looked to Max once more, eyes pleading with him. “We don’t know for sure whether I’m in labour yet, why don’t you at least race? It’s only a couple of hours, I’ll be alright.” 
He didn’t even bother listening to you, his mind was well and truly made up and you wouldn’t be able to convince him otherwise. Max didn’t want to miss a thing, and he certainly didn’t want to not be by your side whilst you were in pain too, regardless of whether you were in labour or not. 
Everyone else went to carry on prepping for the race, with you and Max left alone after his mum told you that she’d head off to go and get your things. “I’m not willing to risk anything,” Max whispered, holding onto you as you began to walk over to the car park. “We’re going to the hospital whether you like it or not, I’d rather be safe than sorry.” 
You smiled weakly across at Max; his eyes filled with concern. “I’m not due for another three weeks Max, let’s just wait and see how the next hour goes, it might be nothing.” 
“But it could be something,” he corrected, still full of worry. Max was proven to be right as after taking a couple of steps you felt a pain that you couldn’t describe course over your bump, leaving you doubled over, biting down on your bottom lip to stop yourself screaming. 
“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, relying on Max to keep you from falling. Your eyes screwed tightly shut, breathing as well as you could to try and ride out the pain. It took a few moments, but just as it passed, another stabbing pain hit your bump. 
Call it father’s instincts, but Max knew in that moment what was happening. He called for his car to be brought over as soon as it could be, wrapping his arms around you so that he could carry you, doing anything that he could to make life a little easier for you. 
Your arms wrapped around Max’s neck, allowing him to scoop you up. “Turns out, you might’ve been right,” you joked, feeling Max’s eyes glance down at you, as if he knew all along. 
“It’s not about being right or wrong, it’s about getting you to hospital now.” 
The car barely stopped before Max opened the passenger door and sat you in, buckling your belt. The valet passed him the keys as his mum arrived, passing your bags over to Max before shouting that she’d catch you up. Max quickly climbed into the car, putting his foot on the accelerator as fast as he could. 
“Turns out I’m in a different race now, the race with all this traffic.” 
“I’d like to get to the hospital in one piece,” you laughed, struggling to get yourself comfortable in your seat as Max drove as quickly as he could, weaving around the cars on the road that were queueing to get into the paddock and see the race, “and I think our child would also vouch for that too.” 
“I’m not driving like a maniac,” Max told you, but even he was a little doubtful. “Well, maybe I am a tad, but I think I can be forgiven considering the circumstances.” 
His eyes were only half on the road, with Max watching over to you too every time a contraction greeted you. Each one made his heart race, filled with him with nerves as you assured him that you were alright, even though you were far from it. 
It wasn’t exactly how you planned your day, ready to sit and relax whilst watching Max, struggling to believe what was about to happen. 
“I'm so proud of you,” Max whispered as he noticed you staring out of the window. "I don’t quite know what’s about to happen, and if I’m honest, I’m terrified, but one thing I know is that I’m going to be so in awe of you.” 
You smiled weakly back across at Max, “however scared you’re feeling right now, double it and you might feel as scared as I do. But the one thing that I know is that you’re there for me, so that means I’m going to be alright.” 
“I won’t let anything bad happen,” Max promised you, matching your smile. “I’m not going to leave you alone for a second, no matter what it takes.” 
Neither of you quite knew how the next few hours were going to unfold, but as a team, you knew you were going to be alright. The race was soon forgotten as the two of you looked to the future and the thrill of knowing that your first meeting with your daughter was right around the corner. 
“Can you believe we’re about to be parents?” Max smiled across at you. 
“I don’t think it’ll ever truly sink in.” 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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pucksandpower · 2 days ago
Text
Collared
Day 29 → BDSM 💋 Toto Wolff
Warnings: 18+ content
Kinktober Masterlist
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The bar pulses with low, red lights, casting shadows that stretch and bend with each flicker of the candles lining the tables. You sit quietly at the table, trying to focus on your breathing, the rhythmic pounding of the bass beneath your feet, the way the leather of your collar tightens just slightly around your throat every time you swallow.
It’s supposed to be comforting. A reminder. But tonight, it feels like a noose.
Across from you, your boyfriend — no, your Dom, the man who’s supposed to make you feel safe — leans back in his chair. His eyes are cold tonight, detached in a way they rarely are. You glance up at him, searching for something — anything — to read in his face. But he’s unreadable. The cool, collected mask he puts on when he’s decided to shut you out.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with you anymore,” he says, his voice sharp enough to cut through the music. He leans forward, arms crossing over the table, as though the weight of his words needs extra support.
Your stomach drops.
“What do you mean?” You manage to ask, even though your voice wavers.
He sighs, rolling his eyes, and the way he does it makes you feel small. “You’re not … cut out for this. For us.” His eyes flick to the collar around your neck, a disgusted curl of his lip. “You’re a horrible submissive. You’re more trouble than you’re worth.”
The words hit you like a physical blow. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. You want to argue, to explain, to tell him that you’re trying — you’ve always been trying. But the words stick in your throat like shards of glass, and instead, all you manage is a strangled, “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry’s not enough,” he spits, loud enough for the tables around you to hear. He looks over his shoulder, and now you can feel the eyes on you. People are staring. Whispering. “You’ve embarrassed me for the last time. I’m taking my collar back.”
Your heart stops. “Wait-” But before you can finish, his hands are already at your throat, unclasping the leather with a precision that’s almost practiced. He holds it up, examining it like it’s some trivial thing, and then — God, no, please — he tosses it on the table like it means nothing.
Your knees give out. You don’t even realize you’ve fallen to the ground until you hear the gasps from the crowd around you. You try to get up, try to stop the tears, but the panic is rising in your chest, fast and hard, and suddenly you can’t breathe. Your hands fly to your throat, but the collar’s already gone. There’s nothing left. He took it.
You’re nothing.
Your chest tightens, your vision blurs, and the world around you fades to a dull roar. You think you hear his voice — maybe he’s still talking — but the words are swallowed by the pounding in your ears.
“Get up,” he snaps. “Jesus, you’re pathetic.”
The room tilts, and then someone’s hands are on your shoulders, strong and steady. Not his hands. Someone else. You blink through the tears, your head swimming, trying to focus on the tall figure looming over you.
Toto Wolff.
You know him instantly. Everyone does. He’s a legend in these circles — the Dom that no one can touch, no one can ever seem to get claimed by. And right now, he’s looking down at you like he’s going to destroy the man who just broke you.
Toto’s voice is low, but firm, addressing your ex with an authority that leaves no room for argument. “Get out.”
“What the fuck-” your ex starts, standing, but Toto’s hand is already raised, a warning.
“You don’t want to do this.” His eyes narrow, and there’s something so deadly in them that it makes the entire room go still. “Leave. Now.”
For a moment, it looks like your ex might fight back. His jaw clenches, fists tightening at his sides. But the weight of Toto’s presence is overwhelming, and slowly, too slowly, your ex stumbles back. He shoots one last hateful look at you, but it’s fleeting. He’s nothing here. Not anymore. He slinks away into the crowd, muttering under his breath, but you don’t hear it. You can’t hear anything.
You’re trembling. Still on the floor, your hands are cold, numb, clutching at your sides as though you might disappear if you let go.
Toto crouches in front of you, his hands hovering near you, but not touching. Not yet. He’s careful, respectful. “Breathe,” he says softly. His voice is steady, soothing, as though he’s done this a hundred times before. “I need you to breathe for me, okay?”
You nod, trying to take in a breath, but it catches in your throat. It’s too tight, too raw.
“I know,” he murmurs. “But you’re safe now. No one’s going to hurt you.” His hand brushes against your arm, and it’s warm, grounding you. “Can you stand?”
You don’t know. You’re not sure if your legs will work. But before you can answer, Toto’s already moving. Gently, he slides his arms around you, lifting you with an ease that makes you feel weightless. He cradles you against his chest, one hand resting on the back of your head, the other under your knees.
You bury your face in his shirt, and the tears come faster now. You can’t stop them. You’re shaking, the sobs wracking your body, but Toto holds you closer, murmuring something under his breath that you can’t quite hear. His heartbeat is steady against your ear, a metronome of safety in a world that just collapsed.
“Shh,” he soothes, his lips brushing against your hair. “It’s okay. Let it out. You’re okay.”
He carries you through the crowd, and you barely notice the way people step aside for him, the way they avert their eyes. He’s not just powerful here — he’s respected. Feared. No one would dare challenge him, not tonight. Not when he’s got you in his arms, broken and fragile.
Toto kicks open the door to a private room, the noise from the bar fading as he steps inside. It’s quiet here. Safe. He sets you down gently on a plush couch, kneeling in front of you, his hands still resting on your arms as though he’s afraid you might fall apart again.
“You’re safe,” he repeats, and this time, you believe him.
You wipe at your eyes, embarrassed by the tears. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’m so-”
“Don’t.” His voice is soft, but firm. “You don’t apologize for this.”
You shake your head, struggling to find the right words. “I should’ve been better.”
Toto’s brow furrows, and for the first time, you see something like anger in his eyes — not at you, but at the thought of someone making you believe that. “No,” he says, and it’s almost a growl. “You were perfect. He didn’t deserve you.”
The weight of his words settles into your chest, and for the first time in what feels like hours, you take a full breath. It feels strange. Like maybe he’s right.
Toto studies you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours. Then, without breaking eye contact, he pulls a pillow from the couch and places it on the floor in front of him.
“You need to kneel?” He asks, his voice gentle. “For yourself?”
You nod, though you’re not entirely sure what you’re asking for. All you know is that the world feels unsteady, and you need something — anything — to hold onto.
Toto doesn’t hesitate. He helps you slide off the couch, guiding you to your knees, but not in a way that feels humiliating. It feels … right. Like maybe this is where you’re meant to be. At peace, for once.
He settles in front of you on the couch, his legs spread, his hands resting in his lap. “Look at me,” he says softly.
You lift your head, meeting his gaze. His eyes are dark, but there’s something tender in them, something that makes your heart ache in a way you can’t quite describe.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, and it’s the first time in hours that you feel like maybe — just maybe — everything will be okay.
***
Toto watches you closely, his eyes never leaving your face as you kneel before him. His expression is calm, steady — grounding. You’re still trembling, but the storm inside you is slowly starting to settle. The silence stretches between you, warm and safe, the first real calm you’ve felt in hours, maybe days. You’re breathing again, slower, more measured.
“Good,” he murmurs after a moment, his voice low, smooth as velvet. “You’re calmer now.”
You nod, unable to find the words, still reeling from everything that’s just happened. The weight of your ex’s cruelty, the embarrassment of being stripped of your collar in front of everyone—it’s all still sitting heavy in your chest, but with Toto here, holding your gaze with his strong, steady presence, it feels … manageable. Barely.
He’s quiet for a few moments, and then his voice cuts through the silence. “I need you to talk to me.” The command is there, laced through his words, but it’s gentle, coaxing.
“About what?” You ask, your voice shaky, unsure.
“About him. Your ex,” Toto says, his eyes narrowing slightly, though not at you. “What was that relationship, really? What did he do to you?”
You hesitate. The flood of emotions is still too fresh, and you’re not sure where to begin. Part of you wants to hide from it, shove it all down where it can’t hurt you anymore, but the way Toto looks at you—like he’s not just asking for your words, but for the truth—you find yourself unraveling.
“It wasn’t always like that,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. “Not at first.”
Toto tilts his head, watching you with careful, measured patience. “But it changed?”
You nod, swallowing hard. “He started getting … impatient with me. Like I could never be good enough, no matter what I did.” Your hands twist nervously in your lap, the shame crawling up your spine. “It didn’t matter how hard I tried, it was never enough for him.”
Toto’s jaw tightens, but his voice remains gentle. “What would he say?”
You blink back the tears threatening to fall again. “He’d tell me I wasn’t obedient enough. Or that I was too needy. Too emotional. He said I made him look bad in front of his friends.” The words spill out faster now, like once they started, there was no way to stop them. “I thought if I tried harder, if I just did better, he’d see that I was … I don’t know, worthy of him? But nothing ever changed. He just kept pushing me down. And I-” Your voice cracks. “I let him.”
Toto’s fingers twitch in his lap, as though he’s barely holding back the urge to reach out and pull you into his arms again. But he stays where he is, giving you the space to continue.
“How long were you with him?” He asks, his voice dipping low, as if he already knows the answer will hurt to hear.
“Two years,” you say, your voice small, like the weight of it is too much to bear. “Two years of trying to be good enough. Of hoping that one day he’d just — he’d see me.”
“And he never did,” Toto finishes softly, the understanding in his voice breaking something inside you.
You nod, the tears slipping free now, running hot down your cheeks. “No. He never did.”
Toto shifts forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees, and the intensity in his eyes softens. “You don’t have to be ashamed of that.”
You blink up at him, startled by the words. “I-I should’ve known better,” you whisper, your voice thick with self-blame. “I should’ve seen it sooner. I stayed too long.”
“No,” Toto says firmly, shaking his head. “You trusted him. That’s what you’re supposed to do in a relationship like that. You gave him your trust, and he abused it. That’s not on you.”
You look away, your chest tightening again. “I still feel like it is.”
Toto’s voice drops even lower, steady and unwavering. “Then you’re wrong.”
There’s something about the way he says it that makes you want to believe him. Maybe it’s the absolute certainty in his tone, or the way his gaze never wavers, but for the first time in what feels like forever, the self-doubt that’s been gnawing at you doesn’t feel so all-consuming.
You wipe at your cheeks, sniffling. “I don’t know what to do now,” you admit, the vulnerability in your voice both terrifying and strangely freeing. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”
Toto’s brow furrows, his attention sharp, like he’s assessing a problem that needs solving. “What do you mean?” He asks, though there’s a note in his voice that suggests he’s already starting to piece it together.
You hesitate, shame creeping back up your throat. “He — he’s the only one on our lease,” you say slowly, the words bitter on your tongue. “He always said that as the Dom, he should have full control of everything. Our finances. Our apartment.” You let out a shaky breath. “I don’t have anything now. He made sure of that.”
Toto’s eyes darken, and for a moment, his hands clench into fists before he forces himself to relax again. “He controlled your money?”
You nod, feeling smaller than ever. “He said it was part of being a good submissive. That I had to trust him with everything.”
The silence between you is heavy, charged with an emotion you can’t quite place. But Toto doesn’t speak right away. He just watches you, the muscle in his jaw working as he processes what you’ve said.
Finally, he breaks the silence. “You’ll stay with me.”
You blink, surprised. “What?”
“You’re not going back there,” Toto says, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’ll come with me. You’ll stay at my place until you get back on your feet.”
You shake your head, the shame overwhelming. “I can’t. I don’t want to be a burden.”
“You won’t be,” Toto says, his voice as steady as ever. “You need a place to stay. I have more than enough room. And …” His eyes soften again, just slightly. “I’d rather you be somewhere safe. Somewhere you can heal.”
Your heart skips a beat at the word *safe*. It’s been so long since you’ve felt truly safe, since anyone’s cared enough to offer you a lifeline like this.
“But I don’t want to intrude,” you protest, still not fully convinced.
Toto leans forward, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. “You won’t be intruding. I’m offering this because I want to.” His voice lowers, a gentle but firm command. “Say yes.”
You open your mouth, but the words are tangled up inside you. There’s something so powerful in the way he speaks, in the way he sees you, that makes it hard to resist. Not that you want to. You want to say yes. You just … don’t know if you deserve it.
Toto must sense your hesitation, because he reaches out, resting one large hand on your knee. His touch is warm, solid, grounding you in a way you didn’t realize you needed.
“You’re not alone in this,” he says softly. “You don’t have to carry it by yourself anymore.”
The knot in your chest loosens just slightly, and you nod, unable to hold back the tears any longer. They fall, hot and fast, but this time, they’re not from fear or shame. They’re from relief. The kind that comes when you realize you don’t have to fight alone anymore.
“I’ll stay with you,” you whisper, the words feeling like a lifeline you didn’t know you needed.
Toto’s hand squeezes your knee gently. “Good girl.”
The praise hits you in a way that surprises you. It feels like balm on a wound, like maybe — just maybe — you’re not as broken as you thought you were.
Toto stands, towering over you for a moment before he offers you his hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
You take his hand, and he pulls you to your feet, steadying you with a hand on your back as you find your balance. The room feels smaller now, quieter, as though the storm that had been raging inside you has finally begun to calm.
Toto picks up your discarded collar from the table, turning it over in his hands for a moment before tucking it into his jacket pocket. “You won’t need this anymore.”
You nod, the weight of that statement not lost on you. It feels like a chapter closing, like you’re finally walking away from something that’s been holding you down for far too long.
Toto leads you out of the room, his hand still resting on your lower back, guiding you through the crowd that seems to part for him without a second thought. You keep your eyes forward, not daring to look at the faces that had watched your humiliation earlier. It doesn’t matter anymore. You’re leaving with Toto, and that’s all that matters now.
***
The guest bedroom is beautiful, opulent even — more luxurious than any place you’ve ever stayed. The bed is soft, the linens expensive, the walls tastefully decorated with muted tones. The space should feel safe, like the sanctuary Toto promised it would be. But sleep doesn’t come easy. It never does, not anymore.
You toss and turn under the sheets, your mind a storm of memories you can’t escape. The room may be beautiful, but your head is still trapped in the dark. You pull at the covers, kicking them off as your body grows restless, heat prickling at your skin. The emptiness at your throat burns, and you unconsciously reach up, fingers grazing your neck, searching for the collar that’s no longer there.
You find nothing but skin. Bare. Exposed. Unprotected.
The panic wells up before you can stop it. It surges in your chest, quick and violent, like you’re drowning in your own bed. You tug at your throat, pulling harder as if trying to force the collar back, trying to make yourself feel whole again. But it’s gone. He took it, and he left you with nothing.
In your sleep, you whimper, and the sound builds into a cry — frantic, desperate. You thrash against the sheets, tugging harder, scratching at your own neck. The empty space where your collar used to be feels like a gaping wound. You scream, raw and choked, and your hands fly to your throat again, nails digging into skin.
Suddenly, strong hands are on you — grabbing your wrists, pulling them away from your neck with firm, unyielding strength.
“Stop,” a voice commands, deep and steady.
You jolt awake, gasping, your heart hammering in your chest. The room is dark, unfamiliar, and for a moment, you don’t know where you are. Your breath comes in short, sharp bursts as you struggle to orient yourself.
“It’s okay,” the voice says, softer now, soothing. “You’re safe. I’m here.”
Toto.
Your eyes finally focus, and you see him crouched beside the bed, his large hands gently holding your wrists. His grip is strong but not painful—just enough to stop you from hurting yourself. He watches you with concern, his face bathed in the soft moonlight filtering through the curtains.
“I … I-” You choke on your words, your body shaking uncontrollably.
“You were dreaming,” he says softly, his voice a low murmur in the darkness. “You were hurting yourself. I had to stop you.”
You look down at your wrists, realizing how tight his grip had been. But it wasn’t harsh. It wasn’t like him. It was to protect you. Slowly, your breathing starts to steady, though the tremors in your body remain.
“I couldn’t breathe,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “It felt like I was choking …”
Toto’s expression hardens, but not with anger. There’s a deep sadness in his eyes, a kind of understanding that makes your heart ache. He releases your wrists slowly, carefully, as though he’s afraid you might break again. His hands linger near you, close enough to grab hold if you need him to.
“I shouldn’t have let you sleep alone,” he says quietly, almost to himself. He stands up, his tall frame towering over you, casting a shadow over the bed. “I thought … I thought you’d be okay.”
“I don’t know how to be okay,” you admit, the words spilling out before you can stop them. “I don’t know how to sleep without feeling like I’m falling apart.”
He watches you for a moment, and you can see the wheels turning in his head. There’s a decision forming in his eyes, a quiet resolve that you don’t fully understand yet.
“You need me to take control,” he says, his voice low and certain. It’s not a question — it’s a statement.
Your breath hitches in your throat, but you nod, unable to find the words. He knows. Somehow, he knows exactly what you need.
Toto moves with purpose, walking over to the nightstand. He opens the drawer with a smooth, deliberate motion, his eyes still on you, gauging your reaction. Inside, nestled among other carefully chosen tools, lies a paddle — sleek, polished, made of dark wood. He pulls it out, holding it in one hand as if testing its weight.
Your heart skips a beat. You know what this is. You’ve seen paddles before, felt them before. But there’s something different about this moment. The air between you shifts, thick with anticipation.
Toto steps back toward the bed, his presence commanding but not overwhelming. “You trust me?” He asks, his voice quiet but firm.
“Yes,” you whisper, your voice barely more than a breath. There’s no hesitation in your answer. You do trust him. More than you ever trusted anyone else.
“Good,” he says, satisfaction flickering across his face. “Then listen carefully. I’m going to help you, but you need to let me take over. No thinking. No questioning. Just do as I say. Can you do that?”
You nod, your heart racing, the tension inside you slowly unwinding at the promise of his control. The weight of your decisions, the confusion, the pain—it all feels lighter now, like maybe you can let go for just a moment and let him carry it.
“Words, liebling,” Toto says softly, reminding you with gentle authority. “I need to hear you say it.”
“Yes,” you reply, louder this time, your voice steadying. “I’ll do as you say.”
A faint smile touches his lips, approval shining in his eyes. “Good girl.”
He walks back to the side of the bed, motioning for you to sit up. “Get on your knees, facing the headboard.”
You comply without question, moving to the center of the bed and positioning yourself as he instructed. Your body feels tense, but it’s the kind of tension that promises release. You’re not scared—not of him. You trust him with every fiber of your being. The fear that had wrapped itself around you earlier is slowly unraveling, replaced by something else, something warmer.
Toto moves to stand beside you, the paddle still in his hand. He trails one finger down your spine, the lightest touch, but it sends a shiver through you. His voice is calm, deliberate. “You need to be reminded of what you’re worth. You need to feel it.”
You bite your lip, anticipation building in your chest. “Yes, sir.”
There’s a pause, and you can feel him watching you, reading you. “Do you know your safe word?” He asks, his voice quiet, but the seriousness of his question is undeniable.
You nod. “Red.”
Toto nods in approval, his eyes dark with focus. “Good. You say it if you need to.”
Then, without another word, he raises the paddle and brings it down against your ass — not too hard, but firm enough to send a jolt through you. The sound of wood meeting flesh fills the room, sharp and clear. You gasp, your body instinctively tensing, but the pain is quickly followed by a rush of warmth.
Toto leans down, his mouth close to your ear. “You can take this,” he murmurs. “You’re strong enough. You’ve always been strong enough.”
Another strike. Then another. The rhythm is slow, measured, and you find yourself sinking into it. Each smack of the paddle pulls you further from the chaos in your mind, grounding you in the present moment. There’s no room for doubt here, no space for the fear and confusion that usually haunt you.
It’s just you, him, and the steady beat of the paddle.
“You’re not broken,” he says between strikes, his voice steady and low. “You’re not weak. Don’t ever let anyone make you believe that.”
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but not from pain. It’s the words, the weight of them sinking in. For so long, you believed you were weak, that you were nothing without someone else to validate you. But now … now it feels different.
You feel different.
“Say it,” Toto commands, his voice firm. “Say you’re strong.”
“I’m strong,” you gasp, the words catching in your throat.
Another strike, harder this time, but the warmth it leaves behind spreads through you like a balm. “Again,” he orders.
“I’m strong,” you repeat, louder this time, the conviction in your voice growing.
Toto lowers the paddle for a moment, his hand resting on your back, warm and steady. “Good girl,” he murmurs. “You’re doing so well.”
You breathe deeply, the tension in your body slowly melting away. Each strike, each word of praise, is like a piece of the armor you didn’t know you were building. By the time he sets the paddle down, you feel lighter than you have in years.
Toto pulls you into his arms, guiding you back down onto the bed. You’re trembling, but it’s not from fear. It’s from release. From the overwhelming sense of safety that only he seems capable of giving you.
“You’re safe now,” he whispers, cradling you against his chest. “I’ve got you.”
And for the first time in a long time, you believe him. You’re safe. You’re strong. And with him, you can finally start to heal.
***
Morning light filters through the wide windows of Toto’s dining room, casting soft, golden hues across the hardwood floor. The house is quiet, serene in a way that makes you feel like you’re in a different world — far removed from the chaos of the night before. As you sit at the edge of the bed, still wrapped in the warm blankets from your sleep, the memory of Toto’s firm, steady control lingers, calming your racing thoughts.
You spent the night in his guest room, but not alone. After the paddle, after the soft words and the gentle touches, Toto stayed with you, holding you until you fell asleep, cocooned in the safety of his presence. It was the first time in what felt like forever that you didn’t wake up gasping for air.
Now, with the sun rising, you feel a strange mix of emotions. There’s a sense of peace you haven’t felt in so long, but there’s also a flicker of nervousness. You wonder what happens next. What does Toto expect from you now that the night is over?
Dressed in one of the soft robes Toto left for you, you make your way down the wide hallway, following the smell of coffee and something warm cooking. As you reach the dining room, you see him — Toto, seated at the long, polished table, a newspaper spread out in front of him and a plate of food waiting beside it.
He looks up as you enter, a small, knowing smile touching his lips. “Good morning,” he says, his voice deep and smooth, like the rumble of an engine. There’s a softness to his tone, a warmth that sets you at ease.
“Good morning,” you reply, shy but hopeful. You take a step toward the table, and then hesitate, biting your lip. The words are on the tip of your tongue, but you’re not sure how to say them. The air between you feels lighter, but still charged with the weight of everything that happened last night.
Toto tilts his head, sensing your hesitation. “What is it?” He asks, his eyes never leaving yours.
You swallow, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. It’s a simple request, but one that feels loaded with meaning. “May I …” You pause, gathering your courage. “May I kneel for you?”
For a moment, Toto says nothing, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he puts down the newspaper, folding it neatly and setting it aside. His eyes soften, and the faintest trace of a smile pulls at his lips. “Of course,” he says, his voice gentle but sure. “You don’t need to ask.”
Relief washes over you, and you feel your body relax as you move toward him. There’s something about kneeling for him that feels right — like it’s where you belong, like the world makes sense when you’re at his feet. You sink to your knees beside his chair, the cool floor beneath you grounding you as you settle into the familiar position.
Toto watches you carefully, his gaze filled with quiet admiration. “Good girl,” he murmurs, and the praise sends a rush of warmth through you, filling the hollow spaces left by doubt and fear.
You look up at him, your hands resting on your thighs, waiting for his next move. There’s no rush, no urgency — just the steady rhythm of your breathing and the quiet hum of the house around you.
“Are you hungry?” He asks, his voice low and intimate. It’s a simple question, but the way he asks it makes you feel seen, cared for. Not like an obligation, but like someone who matters.
You nod, your stomach fluttering. “Yes, sir.”
Toto reaches for the plate of food beside him — fresh fruit, toast, and eggs, all arranged neatly. But instead of setting it in front of you, he picks up a piece of fruit, holding it delicately between his fingers.
“Open,” he instructs, his voice calm but commanding.
You part your lips, and he gently places the fruit in your mouth, his thumb grazing your lower lip as he pulls his hand away. The sweetness of the fruit spreads across your tongue, and you close your eyes for a moment, savoring the taste. It’s such a simple act — being fed by hand — but it fills you with a deep sense of connection, like you’re being cared for in a way that goes beyond words.
Toto watches you, his eyes dark and focused, as if he’s studying your every reaction. “Good?” He asks, his voice soft.
You nod, swallowing the fruit. “Yes, sir.”
He picks up another piece, this time offering you a small bite of toast. “Tell me how you slept,” he says as he feeds you, his tone conversational but still holding that edge of authority.
You chew slowly, thinking about the question. “I … I slept better than I have in a long time,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t wake up … panicking again. Not like I usually do.”
Toto’s gaze softens, and he nods, as if he expected that answer. “You felt safe,” he says, more a statement than a question.
“Yes,” you reply, looking up at him. “I did.”
He feeds you another bite, his eyes never leaving yours. “That’s how it should be,” he murmurs. “You should always feel safe. You deserve that.”
His words are like a balm to your soul, soothing the raw edges of your emotions. For so long, you believed that you didn’t deserve safety or kindness — that you were only worth something when you were serving someone else’s needs. But Toto’s care, his quiet authority, makes you feel like maybe you’re worth more than that.
He offers you another bite of fruit, and you take it without hesitation, the act of being fed by him making you feel more connected, more grounded in the moment. You don’t have to think or worry. All you have to do is trust him, let him guide you.
Toto sets the plate down after a while, wiping his hands on a napkin before reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch is soft, tender, and it sends a shiver down your spine.
“You’ve been through a lot,” he says quietly, his voice thick with understanding. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to rush anything. You take your time. You come to me when you’re ready.”
You blink up at him, surprised by the tenderness in his voice. “I … I don’t know what to do now,” you confess, the vulnerability in your words making your chest tighten. “I don’t know where to go or how to start over.”
Toto’s hand lingers on your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now,” he says, his tone reassuring. “You’re not alone anymore. I told you last night — I’ll help you. You’re safe with me.”
The sincerity in his words makes your throat tighten with emotion. You never expected to find someone like Toto — someone who could take control without making you feel small, who could care for you without making you feel weak.
“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice thick with gratitude. “For everything.”
Toto smiles, a small but genuine smile that makes your heart swell. “You don’t need to thank me,” he says. “Just focus on taking care of yourself. That’s all I ask.”
You nod, feeling a warmth spread through you. There’s still so much you don’t know, so much you’re unsure of. But in this moment, kneeling at Toto’s feet, being fed by his hand, you feel like maybe — just maybe — you can start to heal.
Toto reaches for his coffee, taking a sip before glancing down at you again. “Do you want to stay here with me?” He asks, his tone casual, but you can hear the underlying importance of the question.
Your heart skips a beat, and you look up at him, searching his face for any sign that he might be offering this out of pity. But all you see is quiet determination, a calm certainty that tells you he means every word.
“I … I don’t want to be a burden,” you say softly, though the thought of leaving fills you with a quiet dread.
Toto shakes his head, his expression firm. “You’re not a burden,” he says, his voice unwavering. “You never were. And as long as you want to be here, this is your home.”
The weight of his words settles over you, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel the stirrings of hope. Maybe this is the fresh start you’ve been searching for. Maybe, with Toto’s help, you can finally begin to rebuild the pieces of yourself that were broken.
“Then … yes,” you say, your voice steady but soft. “I want to stay.”
Toto’s smile widens, and he nods, as if that was the only answer he was expecting. “Good,” he says, his tone final, as though the decision has been made and that’s the end of it. “You’ll stay with me, and we’ll figure it out together.”
As you kneel there, with Toto’s hand resting lightly on your shoulder, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’ve found the place where you truly belong.
***
The sun is warm against your skin, a soft, golden light that glimmers across the surface of the pool. The water is crystal clear, reflecting the bright blue sky overhead. You’re stretched out on a plush lounger, eyes closed, feeling the tension melt away from your body as the heat sinks into your muscles. For the first time in what feels like forever, you can actually breathe.
Toto’s house is like a sanctuary — a far cry from the cramped, tension-filled apartment you’d shared with your ex. Here, everything feels expansive, open, and safe. The sound of the water gently lapping against the edge of the pool is the only noise around, a soothing backdrop to the peaceful afternoon.
You turn over onto your stomach, adjusting your bikini to soak in more of the sun’s rays, and for a brief moment, you allow yourself to forget about everything that’s happened. Here, in this moment, there’s no anxiety clawing at your chest, no panic bubbling just beneath the surface. Just the warmth of the sun and the soft breeze ruffling the leaves of the nearby trees.
It’s strange, being here without Toto. He left for work this morning, after making sure you had everything you needed, and though he’s been gone for hours, you still feel his presence lingering around the house. It’s comforting in a way you hadn’t expected. You can’t help but wonder what it will be like when he returns, how he’ll look at you, what he’ll say.
The thought brings a small smile to your lips, and you close your eyes again, letting the peacefulness of the moment wash over you. For the first time in ages, you’re not afraid of what the future holds. With Toto, things feel … different. Better.
By the time the sun begins to set, casting long shadows across the pool, you’ve already showered and changed into a light sundress, feeling refreshed and relaxed. The house is quiet when you make your way to the dining room, but you know Toto will be home soon.
As if on cue, you hear the soft hum of an engine outside, followed by the sound of the front door opening. Your heart skips a beat, and you feel a flutter of nervous excitement in your chest. You glance toward the door just as Toto walks in, his tall frame commanding the space without even trying.
“Good evening,” he says, his deep voice sending a familiar warmth through you.
“Good evening,” you reply, your voice soft but steady. “How was work?”
He smiles, a small, almost imperceptible curve of his lips. “Busy,” he says simply, walking over to you. His eyes linger on you for a moment, taking in your relaxed posture, your bare feet against the hardwood floor, and the soft fabric of your dress. “I see you’ve been enjoying the pool.”
You nod, feeling a little shy under his gaze. “It’s beautiful out there.”
Toto steps closer, his presence as calming as ever. “Good,” he says, his voice low. “I want you to feel at home here.”
You do. More than you ever expected.
He gestures toward the table, where dinner is already laid out, simple but elegant, with a bottle of wine breathing in the center. “Shall we eat?”
You take a seat across from him, and the two of you settle into an easy rhythm. There’s no awkwardness, no tension — just the quiet sounds of silverware against plates and the occasional murmur of conversation. As you eat, you steal glances at Toto, watching the way he moves, the way his eyes darken when he catches you looking at him.
It’s peaceful. But there’s something else simmering beneath the surface, something unspoken but palpable. You can feel it in the way Toto’s gaze lingers on you, in the way his voice drops an octave when he speaks. There’s a tension, but it’s not the kind that makes you anxious. It’s the kind that makes your pulse quicken.
After a while, Toto sets his fork down, leaning back in his chair. His eyes find yours, and there’s a new intensity in his gaze, something that makes your breath catch.
“I’ve been thinking,” he says, his voice soft but firm. “About us. About what you need.”
Your heart skips a beat, and you swallow hard, suddenly feeling exposed under the weight of his gaze. “What do you mean?” You ask, though you have an idea of where this is going.
Toto’s eyes never leave yours as he speaks. “I think you know,” he says quietly. “Last night was just the beginning. There’s more to this, to us, than what we’ve explored so far.”
You feel a shiver run down your spine at his words. There’s something about the way he says “us” that makes your heart race, something about the promise of what’s to come that sends heat pooling in your core.
Toto leans forward, his eyes dark and focused. “I want to know if you’re ready for more,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “If you want to do a scene with me.”
The question hangs in the air between you, thick with anticipation. You can feel your pulse quicken, your breath hitching slightly at the thought. A scene. With Toto.
You’ve imagined it — more than once, if you’re honest with yourself. But hearing him say it, seeing the way his eyes darken with desire as he asks, it makes everything feel real in a way that sends your nerves tingling.
“I … I think I’d like that,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
Toto’s lips curl into a small, satisfied smile. “Good,” he says softly. “Finish your wine, and I’ll show you the playroom.”
Your heart is racing as you take the last sip of your drink, the anticipation building with every second that passes. When you finally set your glass down, Toto stands, offering you his hand. You take it without hesitation, and he leads you through the house, his grip firm but gentle.
He leads you to a room you hadn’t noticed before, down a long hallway at the back of the house. The door is heavy, made of dark wood, and when he opens it, your breath catches in your throat.
The room is stunning.
It’s large, with high ceilings and soft lighting that casts a warm glow over the polished floors. Along the walls are racks of gear — everything from ropes to floggers to paddles, all meticulously arranged. In the center of the room is a large, padded bench, and beside it, a St. Andrew’s cross. It’s a dungeon, but one that’s been designed with care and attention to detail.
Toto walks you further into the room, his presence calm and steady, but you can feel the shift in the air. There’s an unspoken power here, something that makes your skin tingle with anticipation.
He picks up a set of wrist ties from a nearby rack, running his fingers over the soft leather. “We’ll start with these,” he says, his voice low. “They’re comfortable, but secure. I want you to feel safe, but I also want you to surrender.”
You nod, your breath coming faster now as the reality of the situation sinks in. You’re about to do a scene with Toto Wolff — the man who has been nothing but gentle and caring with you, but who is now looking at you like he’s ready to take control in a way that leaves no room for hesitation.
He steps behind you, his hands brushing against your wrists as he fastens the ties, his touch firm but not painful. “Let me know if it’s too tight,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your neck.
“It’s perfect,” you manage to whisper, your voice trembling slightly with nerves and excitement.
Once your wrists are secured, Toto steps in front of you, holding a flogger in his hand. It’s light, with soft leather strands, not designed to hurt, but to tease, to stimulate.
“Tell me your safeword,” he says, his voice steady.
“Red,” you say, your throat dry with anticipation.
He nods, satisfied. “Good girl.”
Toto steps back, giving you a moment to adjust to the feeling of being tied, the weight of the flogger in his hand a promise of what’s to come. His eyes are dark, focused, and there’s a hunger there that makes your knees weak.
Without another word, he begins, the flogger landing softly against your skin, a gentle rhythm that builds with each stroke. It’s not painful, not yet — it’s more like a caress, a reminder that you’re here, in this moment, with him.
As the strokes continue, the sensation shifts from gentle to something more intense, and you feel your body responding to it, your breath coming faster, your skin tingling with each impact. It’s overwhelming in the best way, and you can’t help the soft moans that escape your lips.
Toto’s voice cuts through the haze of sensation, calm and steady. “How are you feeling?”
“Good,” you breathe, your head spinning. “I feel good.”
He nods, his movements never faltering. “Let go,” he murmurs. “Surrender to me. I’ve got you.”
And in that moment, you do. You let go of everything — the fear, the doubt, the pain of the past — and you give yourself over to Toto, trusting him completely.
For the first time in a long time, you feel whole.
***
The restaurant is exquisite. Soft lighting glimmers off crystal glasses and polished silverware, casting a warm, intimate glow over the white-clothed tables. The hum of quiet conversation fills the room, an undercurrent of sophistication and elegance that’s perfectly in tune with the setting.
It’s one of those places you’d only ever heard of — an elusive three Michelin-starred restaurant tucked away in the heart of London, where every dish is a masterpiece and every detail, no matter how small, is perfectly curated.
You glance across the table at Toto, who’s sitting across from you, calm and composed as ever. He’s wearing a tailored suit, dark and understated, but it fits him in a way that makes it clear he’s no stranger to this world of luxury. There’s something about the way he holds himself, a quiet authority that commands attention without ever needing to ask for it.
You, on the other hand, feel a bit like an imposter in this world. The dress you’re wearing — sleek, black, and impossibly flattering — had been a gift from Toto, something he’d picked out for tonight. It fits like it was made for you, but you still can’t quite shake the feeling that you’re playing a role in a scene that doesn’t belong to you.
Toto catches your gaze and smiles softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that makes your heart skip a beat.
“You look nervous,” he says, his voice low and soothing. “Everything alright?”
You nod quickly, forcing a small smile. “Yeah, just … I’ve never been somewhere like this before.”
He chuckles, the sound warm and rich. “It’s just dinner,” he says, his tone teasing but gentle. “No need to be nervous.”
You know he’s right. It is just dinner, but there’s something more tonight — something unspoken but heavy in the air between you. For the past few weeks, everything has been perfect. Since the night Toto took you in, since he showed you what it meant to truly be cared for, things have only gotten better. You’ve never felt more seen, more understood. He’s given you space to heal, to grow, but he’s also taken control in ways that make you feel secure, grounded.
And yet, tonight feels different. There’s an anticipation simmering beneath the surface, something you can’t quite place. It’s been there ever since you left his house this evening, when he helped you into the car, his hand lingering on your waist just a second longer than usual.
The waiter arrives to clear your plates, and you offer him a polite smile, though your mind is elsewhere. The main course had been an experience in itself — delicate and flavorful, the kind of dish you’d never forget. But now, as you sip the last of your wine, you find yourself unable to focus on anything other than the man sitting across from you.
Toto hasn’t said much since the food arrived, but there’s a certain intensity in his silence, a weight to the way he looks at you that makes your heart race. When dessert is brought out — an intricately plated creation of chocolate and caramel — you glance at Toto, waiting for him to start.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he leans back in his chair, his hand slipping into the pocket of his suit jacket. For a moment, your stomach flips with confusion.
Then, he pulls out a large black box, the kind you’ve only ever seen in high-end jewelry stores, and sets it on the table between you. The room seems to grow quieter, though you’re sure it’s just your nerves making everything else fade into the background.
Toto watches you carefully, his expression soft but serious. He opens the box, and your breath catches in your throat.
Inside is the most beautiful collar you’ve ever seen. Solid white gold, sleek and elegant, with delicate diamonds studded along the edges, catching the candlelight in a way that makes them shimmer like stars. It’s not ostentatious, not overly extravagant despite its luxury — it’s simple, perfect, and breathtaking.
Your eyes widen, your hand instinctively flying to your throat, where the absence of any collar has been a reminder of everything you’d lost. The weight of your ex’s cruelty still lingers in the back of your mind, but in this moment, that’s not what you’re thinking about. All you can focus on is the collar in front of you, and the man offering it to you.
“Toto …” you breathe, your voice shaky with emotion.
He takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve thought about this for a long time,” he says, his voice steady, but there’s an unmistakable vulnerability in his words. “You’ve been through so much. You’ve given me your trust, and I don’t take that lightly.”
You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes, but you blink them back, your heart pounding in your chest.
Toto continues, his gaze unwavering. “I want you to know that this — this collar — isn’t just a symbol. It’s a promise. A promise that I’ll take care of you, protect you, and guide you. If you accept it, it means you’re accepting me as your Dom. Officially.”
You’re speechless, your mind racing, your heart swelling with so many emotions all at once that it’s hard to process. This is everything you’ve ever wanted, everything you never thought you deserved after what happened with your ex. But Toto … Toto is offering it to you freely, without any hesitation or doubt.
He leans forward slightly, his eyes softening. “I want you to be mine,” he says, his voice low, filled with sincerity. “But only if that’s what you want too.”
Your throat tightens, and you can’t hold back the tears anymore. They slip down your cheeks, but you don’t feel embarrassed. Not here, not with him.
“I …” You struggle to find the words, your voice thick with emotion. “I don’t even know what to say.”
Toto smiles softly, reaching across the table to take your hand in his. His touch is warm, reassuring. “You don’t have to say anything. Just tell me what you feel.”
You look down at the collar again, the beautiful, shining piece of jewelry that represents so much more than just an accessory. It represents trust, care, safety —everything you thought you’d lost forever. And now, with Toto, you realize it’s all possible again.
“I want this,” you say, your voice trembling but certain. “I want you. I want to be yours.”
Toto’s smile deepens, a look of pure, unguarded affection crossing his face. He stands slowly, moving around the table toward you. You rise from your chair as he approaches, your heart hammering in your chest as he gently takes the collar from the box.
“May I?” He asks, his voice soft but filled with meaning.
You nod, unable to speak, too overwhelmed by the moment.
Toto steps behind you, his hands warm as he gently brushes your hair aside. You feel the cool weight of the collar as he fastens it around your neck, the clasp clicking into place with a finality that sends a shiver down your spine. It’s not tight, but it’s firm enough to remind you that it’s there — a constant, grounding presence.
He steps back in front of you, his eyes searching yours. “How does it feel?”
You lift a hand to your throat, your fingers brushing over the smooth metal. It feels … right. Like it was always meant to be there.
“It feels perfect,” you whisper, tears still shining in your eyes.
Toto’s expression softens even more, and he cups your face gently in his hands, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his voice full of warmth and affection. “You have no idea how much you mean to me.”
Your chest tightens, and you can’t help the smile that breaks across your face, despite the tears. “I think I’m starting to.”
Toto leans down, his lips brushing softly against your forehead, a gesture that’s both tender and protective. “You’re mine now,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin. “And I’m yours.”
The weight of those words settles over you like a warm blanket, comforting and reassuring. In Toto’s arms, with the collar around your neck, you finally feel safe. Safe, loved, and most of all, home.
***
The bar is just as you remember it — dark, atmospheric, and pulsing with a kind of energy that once felt daunting but now, with Toto at your side, feels like a familiar rhythm. You had known this moment would come eventually, but the thought of returning to the place where everything fell apart had lingered like a storm cloud in your mind for weeks.
Yet tonight, as you walk through the entrance with Toto’s hand resting firmly on your lower back, it feels different. You’re not the same person who left this bar shattered. You’re stronger now, grounded in ways you never thought possible.
Toto leans down, his breath warm against your ear. “Are you alright?” His voice is low, gentle, but the command behind it is unmistakable. He’s checking in, as he always does, ensuring that this is what you want.
You look up at him, giving a small nod. “Yes, sir,” you say softly, the words carrying a weight of truth and certainty.
He smiles down at you, his hand squeezing your waist briefly in a silent message of reassurance. “Good girl.”
Your body reacts to his praise, warmth spreading through you. Every time he says those words, it’s like a jolt of electricity, but tonight, it’s especially potent. You’ve come here with a purpose — not just to face the ghosts of the past, but to show yourself and everyone else, including your ex, that you are no longer that fragile, discarded version of yourself.
The bar is packed tonight, the same familiar crowd — subs and doms, some here to watch, others here to play. You scan the room briefly, and then your heart stops. Your ex is here. Sitting in one of the corner booths, drink in hand, his eyes scan the room — until they land on you.
You freeze, and for a split second, the memories of that night come rushing back — his voice, cruel and dismissive, the public humiliation, the way your knees had given out beneath you. But then you feel Toto’s presence beside you, solid and unwavering. His grip on you tightens, pulling you out of the past and back into the present.
Toto follows your gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly as they land on your ex. There’s no need for words. He knows exactly what’s running through your mind, and his jaw sets in a way that tells you he’s already decided how the rest of this night will go.
He bends down to your ear once more, his voice a soothing contrast to the tension in the air. “I think it’s time to show everyone exactly who you belong to.”
Your heart skips a beat, and you can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of your lips. You nod again, this time with more confidence. “Yes, sir.”
He leads you through the crowd, toward one of the platforms reserved for public scenes. It’s in full view of the bar, the perfect stage. Your ex watches, his eyes locked on the two of you, but you don’t look away this time. You meet his gaze, and for the first time, you feel nothing but indifference. He has no power over you anymore.
Toto stops in front of the platform, turning you to face him. He brushes a thumb over your collar, the one he gave you at dinner just a few weeks ago, and you swear you see pride flash in his eyes.
“Are you ready?” He asks, his voice a quiet command.
“Yes, sir,” you respond, your voice steady.
He steps up onto the platform first, motioning for you to follow. You do, climbing onto the raised platform as the crowd’s attention starts to shift toward you both. There’s an air of anticipation, curiosity — everyone here knows who Toto is, and it’s rare to see him take part in public scenes. But more than that, they know you now too. You’re not the timid girl from before, you’re Toto’s submissive, and that means something in this world.
Toto walks to a sleek black bag he placed earlier at the side of the platform. From it, he pulls out something that makes your breath catch: a pair of dragon’s tongue whips. They’re long, thin, and flexible, made from braided leather that tapers into a sharp, stinging tip.
Most doms wouldn’t dare use them in a public scene — they require immense skill and precision to wield properly. In the wrong hands, they can cause real harm. But Toto … you trust him completely.
He turns to face you, holding the dragon’s tongue in his hand. His eyes meet yours, and in that moment, the rest of the room fades away.
“Kneel,” he commands softly.
You drop to your knees instantly, your heart racing with a mixture of anticipation and excitement. You glance out into the crowd, and your ex’s eyes are glued to the scene. You can see the shock in his expression — this is something he never could’ve done. He didn’t have the skill, the control, or the understanding of what it truly means to be a Dom. And now, he’s watching you submit to someone far more powerful, far more worthy.
Toto steps behind you, the dragon’s tongue sliding lightly over your bare shoulders. “You’ve been such a good girl for me,” he says, his voice low but full of affection. “And tonight, I’m going to show everyone just how beautifully you submit.”
The first strike lands, light but firm, sending a sharp sting across your back. You gasp, but it’s not pain you feel — it’s release, surrender. The second strike comes, and then the third, each one carefully controlled, perfectly measured. Toto is a master of his craft, and with each lash, you feel yourself falling deeper into the scene, into the space where nothing exists except his voice, his commands, and the sensation of the dragon’s tongue against your skin.
The crowd is silent now, watching with rapt attention as Toto works, his movements graceful and precise. You can feel their eyes on you, but you don’t care. You’re not performing for them. You’re here for him, and him alone.
“Good girl,” Toto murmurs after a particularly sharp strike, his voice like a balm against the sting. “You take it so well.”
Your ex is still watching, but his face is pale now, his expression a mixture of disbelief and something darker — jealousy, perhaps, or regret. But you don’t focus on him. You focus on Toto, on the way his voice grounds you, the way his touch brings you back from the edge.
When the final strike lands, your body is buzzing with sensation, your mind quiet and peaceful in a way that only Toto can bring. He steps in front of you, setting the dragon’s tongue aside, and kneels down to meet your eyes. His hand cups your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek.
“You did so well,” he whispers, his eyes filled with warmth and pride. “I’m so proud of you.”
Tears well in your eyes, but they’re not from pain or sadness. They’re from the overwhelming sense of belonging, of being cared for in a way you never thought possible. You look up at him, and the only words that come to your lips are the ones you know he wants to hear.
“Thank you, sir.”
Toto smiles, a rare, unguarded smile that’s just for you. He stands, helping you to your feet, and guides you gently off the platform. The crowd parts as he leads you toward a quiet corner, away from the eyes of the bar. He sits down in one of the plush armchairs, pulling you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you protectively.
“You were perfect,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your temple. “Absolutely perfect.”
You nestle into him, your body still humming with the aftershocks of the scene, but your mind is calm. You’re safe, you’re his, and nothing else matters.
Toto reaches for a bottle of water, uncapping it and holding it to your lips. You drink gratefully, letting the cool liquid soothe your throat. He continues to take care of you, checking in with soft, reassuring touches, whispering praises that make your heart swell with warmth.
And as you sit there, wrapped in his arms, you glance across the room to where your ex is sitting. He’s watching still, but now, there’s something defeated in his posture, as if he finally understands what he lost. But it doesn’t matter anymore. You’re not his, and you never will be again.
You belong to Toto now, and that’s all you need.
***
The sun is low, casting a golden glow across the living room, filtering through the sheer curtains that sway gently with the breeze from the open windows. You’re sitting on the floor, leaning back against the couch, legs folded beneath you, waiting for Toto.
The anticipation hums in your veins, a familiar pulse that always settles low in your belly whenever you two are about to engage in a scene. It’s a quiet evening at home — rare, given how often you’ve been traveling with him to races lately. But tonight is just for you and him, no paddock, no chaos, no cameras. Just intimacy.
Toto emerges from the hallway, his presence commanding, even in the casual black shirt and dark jeans he wears. The simplicity of his clothes contrasts with the intensity in his eyes as they lock on you, a silent question hanging in the air between you. You nod — your answer always the same when it comes to him.
“Come here, liebling,” he says softly, the endearment rolling off his tongue in that deep, soothing voice of his. You rise and step closer to him, the distance between you disappearing as he pulls you into his arms, kissing the top of your head gently before guiding you toward the center of the room.
Tonight’s scene is something more intimate, more casual than the ones you’ve typically done before. It’s not about spectacle or showing anyone else what you can endure — this is just for him, for the trust between you. He’s chosen a light flogger for tonight, one you both know well, designed for sensation rather than pain. It’s more of a way to ground you, to connect with him in the quiet of your home.
“Strip,” Toto commands, his voice a velvet command that wraps around you like a safety net.
You begin to undress, taking your time, enjoying the way his eyes track your movements. You fold your clothes neatly beside the couch before turning to face him, hands clasped behind your back, your breath already coming in soft, steady waves.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, stepping forward to lift your chin gently, his thumb brushing along your bottom lip. His approval is everything, and the warmth in his gaze fills you with that familiar, addictive need to please him.
Toto motions for you to kneel, and you drop down, your knees pressing into the soft rug beneath you. He takes a seat in the armchair across from you, leaning back casually as if this is any other evening, as if what comes next is just a natural extension of your time together.
He picks up the flogger, running the leather strands through his fingers slowly, deliberately, letting you watch. The anticipation builds, tightening your muscles with every passing second.
“Do you trust me?” He asks, even though the answer has already been given a thousand times over.
“With everything,” you reply, your voice steady.
The first strike lands across your shoulders, light and measured, a soft hiss of air leaving your lungs. It’s not pain — it’s connection. Every swing of the flogger, every strike that follows, is a conversation between you. The leather caresses your skin, each touch more intense than the last, your body warming under his control, but never overwhelmed. You float, suspended in this perfect, peaceful place, completely in sync with him.
Toto’s voice grounds you. “Such a good girl for me,” he whispers, and your heart swells with pride, each strike a confirmation of your submission, of the bond you share.
He continues, alternating between strokes and soothing touches, checking in with you through words and the soft brush of his hand across your skin. You lose yourself in the rhythm, the flogger a steady, pulsing reminder of the safety and love you’ve found with him.
So engrossed are you in the scene, you don’t hear the front door creak open. You’re barely aware of anything beyond Toto’s voice and the sensation of the flogger against your skin. But then, the unmistakable sound of someone gasping cuts through the haze.
“Uh … what … the …” George Russell’s voice cracks, full of disbelief.
Your head snaps up in shock, and Toto stills, the flogger dropping to his side as he turns, slowly, to face the unexpected intrusion.
George is standing frozen in the doorway, eyes wide, mouth open in pure horror. His face is pale, and he’s gripping the door handle like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. He’s not even trying to look away — he’s too shocked to move.
“Oh my God,” George breathes out, his voice strangled. “I — what the hell — what — Toto!” His voice rises in panic as he throws his hands over his face. “Why didn’t you lock the door?”
Toto stands calmly, his expression a mixture of amusement and mild frustration, as if he’d been interrupted during an important meeting rather than an intimate scene. “George,” he says in his usual calm, measured tone, “you really should knock.”
“I didn’t think I had to knock at your house!” George cries, his voice muffled by his hands still covering his face. “I thought you were just … I don’t know … watching TV or something, not-” He cuts off, his voice trailing into a horrified squeak.
You’re frozen on the spot, embarrassment flooding your face, your body still kneeling on the floor. The moment is so absurd, so unexpected, that you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. You glance at Toto, and his calm demeanor seems to anchor you once more. But George — poor, poor George — he looks like he’s just witnessed something that will haunt him for the rest of his life.
“I — oh my God, I need bleach for my eyes,” George moans, stumbling backward toward the door. “I need therapy. I need to forget this ever happened.”
Toto steps forward, his hands raised as if to calm the younger man. “George, calm down. It’s not-”
“Calm down?” George interrupts, his voice an octave higher than usual. “Toto, I just saw you whipping your girlfriend in your living room! What part of this is supposed to be calm?”
At this point, you can’t hold it in anymore. A giggle escapes you, completely unexpected and uncontrollable. The absurdity of the situation, the sheer panic on George’s face — it’s all too much. You cover your mouth, trying to stifle the sound, but it’s no use. Laughter bubbles up, and before you know it, you’re leaning back, laughing so hard you can barely breathe.
Toto glances at you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He can’t help it either — he starts laughing too, a deep, rich sound that fills the room.
George stares at the both of you in disbelief, his hands still hovering near his face, but slowly, realization seems to dawn on him. “Are you two seriously laughing at this?”
Toto nods, wiping at his eyes. “George, it’s not what you think.”
“Not what I think?” George sputters. “What else could it possibly be?”
Toto walks over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “George, Y/N and I are adults, and we have an understanding in our relationship.”
“Well, I don’t want to understand! I want to un-see!” George exclaims, pulling away. “I came here for strategy discussions, not … this! Why didn’t you text me you were busy?!”
“I didn’t think we’d be interrupted,” Toto says, shrugging with a grin. “Clearly, I was wrong.”
George groans again, burying his face in his hands. “I need to go … bleach my eyes or … meditate or something.”
Toto chuckles, patting him on the back. “I’ll send you the race notes later, alright? Just knock next time.”
George spins on his heel, practically sprinting for the door. “Yeah, yeah. Never coming over without notice again. Noted. Bleach, then therapy. Lots of therapy.”
The door slams behind him, leaving the house in a stunned, laughing silence. You look over at Toto, still kneeling on the floor, your body trembling with laughter. He kneels down beside you, brushing a lock of hair away from your face, his smile wide and relaxed.
“Well,” you say, catching your breath, “that was unexpected.”
Toto raises an eyebrow, still chuckling. “You could say that.”
You both dissolve into laughter again, the absurdity of the moment too much to handle. When the laughter finally subsides, Toto pulls you into his arms, kissing your temple gently.
“At least now we know George will knock in the future,” he teases, his voice filled with warmth.
You snuggle into his embrace, feeling safe and loved, even in the midst of the chaos. “Maybe we should lock the door next time, just to be safe.”
Toto hums in agreement, his hand tracing soothing circles on your back. “Next time, liebling.”
And as you settle back into the peaceful quiet of the evening, the memory of George’s horrified face will be something you’ll both laugh about for years to come.
285 notes · View notes
astrow1zar6 · 2 days ago
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Astro Observations- 38
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Aries suns with Scorpio moons can be big adrenaline junkies. They need to do something dangerous that makes them feel alive. They can be extreme sometimes such as fast driving, mixing substances ect. They don’t feel like they’re living if they aren’t experiencing enough intensity. They should learn to focus this energy in healthier ways such as maybe exercising and sports.
Pisces Mercury’s often did art to express their emotions when younger. I’ve seen Pisces Mercurys who struggled to logically explain how they feel so they would draw or make crafts to show what they were feeling. Their emotions a lot of the times are too complex and intense to explain with only words. They work better with visuals. They could’ve also been better visual learners compared to people giving straightforward instructions when in a classroom setting (they are usually very imaginative).
Mars in Scorpios can have a hard time keeping friends and partners because of how intense they can be. When hurt they can say some really scary fucked up things that can make people want to distance themselves away. ESPECIALLY when they get jealous. They can be super cut throat with their words.
Taurus Venus’s usually came from households where they were exposed to really good food. Either they had enough money in their childhoods to afford high quality ingredients or they came from a family who cooked a lot. This can cause them to be natural cooks themselves. Usually indulged a lot as a child.
Aquarius suns either give IT girl/boy too cool for you vibes or they’re complete weirdos with a school shooter vibe no in between.
I believe Taurus suns are way more jealous than Scorpio suns
Leo moons tend to be the most awkward Leo placement. They have this dorkiness about them which most people don’t expect but I’ve seen it a lot. They can also be very childishly dramatic about very minor problems. Any little inconvenience is seen as a tragedy. However they usually are extremely talented in one area (usually art related) I’ve seen a lot of musicians and drama kids have this placement.
I’d love to have a Sagittarius moon yall seem like you generally don’t give a f*ck what people think and I’m here for it. Such a happy moon sign. However your good vibes 24/7 attitude can make others believe you’re insensitive or shallow.
I notice a lack of fire in the chart can cause a person to go into depression easier. It’s harder to be optimistic.
Venus in 2nd house isn’t just about being rich it also has to do with self esteem as well! When these people are really on the right path they can live such a favorable life! These are the girls you see on YouTube who’s morning routine is waking up at 6, eating a balanced breakfast, moisturize and exfoliate and exercise all before 8 lmao. Usually they don’t start making good money until they fix their self worth but once they do it’s like they flow with the universe without much obstacles. But when struggling with your self esteem you can become bad with your money and be very greedy and jealous of others success so be careful!
Venus in 7th house people are so lucky with relationships. It’s like they just slide into romantic relationships so easily & naturally. So many people want to cuff them up it’s insane. They tend to get along with a lot of different personalities. Very diverse people which attracts people to them like magnets. However, they can be very codependent and do poorly when alone.
Pisces suns are either extremely wise or super foolish and immature. They also always look like they don’t know what’s going on whether they actually do or really don’t😭 even if they are listening to everything your saying it looks like they have nothing going on in their minds like they got a lobotomy lmao (sometimes tho they really don’t know what’s going on, especially Pisces mercs)
Mercury in Capricorns are normally super smart. Street wise and book wise. They can come off as intimidating tho sometimes because of how intelligent they come off. They also have a vibe that can lowkey make people feel unwelcome like you’re too dumb to talk to them💀 (similar to cap risings). They tend to surround themselves with people older/more mature than them they can really get put off but younger acting energies.
Sag risings can be SOOO loud. Especially when they get excited or drunk.
Having a Sun in Aries and a Cancer moon seems like the most difficult sun/moon placements to have together. You have this tough exterior and such a vulnerable interior that no one knows about so people usually treat you harshly not knowing it’s really hard for you to take that☹️ also struggles a lot with being vulnerable to anyone.
Every Pisces Mars woman I’ve ever met was so dazzling to look at. They have such an ultra feminine nature that’s almost ethereal.
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goxjo · 22 hours ago
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! 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐟𝐭. 𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚
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+ synopsis. you should’ve known better when you reached out to your ex 1 year after your break up to get your stuff back, especially when the both of you have so many unresolved feelings. of course discussions are bound to get heated very quickly, and getting pressed up against the wall was definitely not according to plan
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+ cw. no curse au, kabedon, light angst, lots of reminiscing, ex! sukuna, he’s incredibly lovesick and jealous, you and your ‘new guy’ are broken up but he doesn’t know that (yet), lots of pent up frustrations, hatefucking, wall sex, cunnilingus, standing prone bone (?), biting, pet names (babe), making up, creampie, soft ending, 2,100+ words, MDNI
+ aki's note. this is part of @ficsforgaza's kinktober event (again, tysm for letting me join uwu). this is my first time writing sukuna this way and I’m ngl I kinda dig it!! thank you so much for the request @unheavenlypacked and for being so patient <3 ++ I know I went over the word count too but I couldn’t help it :’) hope you like it!!!
+ masterlists. general ┆ jjk ┆ kinktober ┆ ffg kinktober
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In hindsight, maybe you should’ve just accepted his offer to drop off your things. After all, it has been a year. You’re almost certain he’s already moved on by now. But you were very particular about not wanting him to go through the trouble, even if he says it’s no big deal.
You should have thought this through.
He opens the door to the apartment you once shared, and you realize a mental note would have to suffice for now. Because of course he just has to be shirtless like he usually is whenever he stays home, body decorated with black intricate lines stretching and scattered everywhere. And you mean everywhere, including places only you and very few others are acquainted with.
He’s as pretty as ever.
To top it all off, he wears that all-too-familiar scowl that frequented his face whatever the emotion — whether he’s happy, sad, angry, or even horny. Something you’ve always found endearing.
You huff a heavy sigh when you realize the last time you saw each other, you were at each other’s throats. A quick mental pinch reminds you what you’re here to do and what you’re not here to do.
You know they lay of the land, you know where everything should be. There’s absolutely no need to delay things. You take one step to the open space to his side.
“If you’ll excu—”
An arm blocks your way and cuts your words off.
“Do you have to?” He lowers his head, face inching closer to yours.
You refuse to meet his gaze, eyes dead fixed on his taut muscles instead. This doesn’t help your case at all. You’re reminded of how much you used to run your fingers across every dip and mound, you’ve practically mapped his body like he’s done with yours.
“It’s about time.” You shift your gaze to the concrete wall before you start to get deeper into your thoughts. “Don’t you think?”
Sukuna clicks his tongue, clenching his fist before dropping his arm, finally letting you pass. He runs his fingers through his hair in defeat, something he usually does out of frustration.
“Suit yourself.”
You rummage through what used to be your side of the closet, shocked to find he’d kept all your things tidy. Like you never left.
“Find everything?” He comes up behind you close enough, you’re certain you’ll bump into him and areas you shouldn’t be. He runs his knuckles along the small of your back, a sense of hesitation in his touch sending shivers down your spine. Even now, this man has very little regard for personal space.
“Almost.” You lightly twist your body, enough to make him withdraw his hand.
Sukuna leans on the edge of the closet as he watches you empty out your belongings.
“So this new guy…” He gestures to the air. “Jo… Joso— what’s his face—”
“Choso,” you correct him. Your brows furrow upon realizing one of your shirts is nowhere to be found.
“Yeah, whatever,” Sukuna snickers. “How’s— uh… how’s that coming along?”
“You really care to know?”
“Fuck no.” Sukuna answers hard and fast, almost spitting to the air.
“Then don’t ask.”
Suddenly, you think to reach behind one of the neatly folded stack of clothes, and you hear him cuss under his breath. And lo and behold, you find your old, worn out, fitted shirt - one that used to make him absolutely go crazy when you wear it.
“Wonder how this ended up there?” Hooked on your finger, you wave the garment around while a guilty Sukuna looks away.
“Fuck.” He clicks his tongue, mumbling. “Can’t even imagine you wearing that in front of him.”
“Wha—” You jolt back, taken aback by his words. “Why do you even care?”
“You seriously going to ask?!”
You blink in disbelief, unable to wrap your head around what you’re hearing.
“You seemed to have no problem when I left, where was this attitude back then?!”
Sukuna jaws clench, taking a deep breath as he throws his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’s clearly holding himself back. Slowly, he draws near you, looking into your eyes straight on.
“You told me you fucking needed space.” His voice is low but he emphasizes his words. “But…” His eyes dart to your lips and you don’t miss the way he licks his. “I didn’t ask you to go fuck someone else after 2 whole fucking months!”
“So it’s my fault now?” Your heartbeat thumps against your ribcage as he inches closer and closer to you. “You think I’m gonna sit back after 2 whole fucking months of radio silence?!”
“No!”
“So, then what did you expect me to do?!”
You subconsciously take a step back for every step he takes forward until your back hits the wall.
“I didn’t mean for any of that to happen! I—”
“You what?!”
“Fuck!” he cusses, and the last thing you see is the fist he throws back before you close your eyes and flinch. After that, you hear a thump over your head.
Your eyes flutter open to the sight of him looming over you, arm propped above your head, face just inches away from yours.
His chest heaves.
His eyes are fuming.
And the space is suddenly non existent.
He kisses you so fervently, as if a whole year without you has been torture and your lips are the remedy.
You want to scream at him, pull away and make him pay for what he’s done. The skin on your knuckles thin from how hard you’ve balled them into fists.
You press your knuckles flat against his abdomen, trying pushing him away. But the second your skin meets his, your hands flutter open, roaming his body as you instantly melt into his kiss. It’s ridiculous. This is ridiculous. It’s like you hadn’t just been on a rampage telling him what a big ass he is for how he treated you.
Your hands instinctively try to cup his face but are quickly caught by his, pinning them above your head.
Sukuna pulls away, making you whine at the abrupt separation. Your eyes are drawn to his lips like a moth to a flame. They look shiny from the kiss, and you try to lean forward but he’s got you nailed to the wall.
“Are you being serious right now?” You utter, putting a dirty smirk on his face. “Let me go!” You try to wriggle free off his hold. “Need to wipe that fucking smile off your face.”
Sukuna scoffs. He uses one hand to hold both of yours in place while he cups your chin, thumb glossing over your lower lip.
He takes a deep breath, smug dropping as he scans your face. “I’ve missed you.”
Those words hit the final nail in your coffin. At this point, you know there’s no turning back.
Before you get to answer back, he turns you around, cheek and chest flat up against the wall, entwining his fingers as he presses both your hands on either side of you.
Sukuna grunts, burying his face into your hair as he grinds his erection on your ass.
“Gonna make you forget all about him.”
“Actually, we’re not—” Sukuna doesn’t let you finish, capturing your lips once more.
He lifts your shirt above your tits, smiling in the kiss upon finding you bare underneath. Then he works your pants, pulling them down to your knees, locking your movements.
You hear him shuffling on his knees. You try to turn around but he stops you dead in your tracks. “Keep those fucking hands on the wall.”
Sukuna spreads your ass cheeks open before letting out a hot huff on your pussy. He draws a stripe on your slippery slit, and a moan escapes from your lips.
A soft, wet muscle flicks wonders on your clit, a sensation you’ve missed over the course of a year. You try your hardest not to break but he’s got you so weak in the knees with how good he licks your pussy.
“Sh-it!” You whine. Sukuna sucks your clit and buries his nose in your entrance, making you hold onto the wall for dear life.
A thumb enters your pussy, curling and hooking inside you as his tongue fiddles with your sensitive bud, and at this point you’re a crying mess. He pumps your pussy with two digits as his tongue flicks your clit so fast, you start shaking in your high, doing your best not to fall over.
“Fffuck, Sukuna!”
“God, I’ve missed that sound.”
You catch your breath. The familiar sound of his belt shuffling plays in the background. His pants drop to the floor and you feel his cock spring on your ass.
His wet tip leaves a trace of slick on your ass. His knuckles run up and down your ass as he pumps his cock behind you.
“Oh!” You flinch, mouth forming an ‘o’ and Sukuna chuckles, catching you off guard when he gathers slick from your pussy to lube his cock.
Head ducked, you press your forehead on the wall in your anticipation, feeling your hot breath fan your face as it hits the wall. You’d forgotten how big he is — jaw dropping when just the head of his cock stretches your pussy wide open.
“Sukuna, please— fuck!” Right on cue, his cock slides into you with ease, making you mewl like a kitty.
“Missed your tight pussy, babe.” Sukuna groans as he bottoms out, hand cupping and kneading your tit while he peppers kisses on your shoulder. “Fuck, babe, I’ve missed you.”
“S’kuna~” You tilt your head back and rest on his shoulder, humming his name in a tune that just scratches the itch in his heart and on his cock. “F-fuck me!”
He picks up the pace, practically ramming your body into the wall. His cock feels so good, stretching you out in ways no one’s ever been able to since you broke up. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss this — Sukuna whispering the nastiest nothings in your ear, mouth always preoccupied with yours, your tits, your skin, every part of you, fucking you like it’s always the first time.
“Say my name, babe. Fuck! I’ve missed you so fucking bad.” A hand finds your clit and rubs hard and fast and sloppy circles till you’re creaming on his cock.
“Sukuna! Don’t stop— ffuuck!” Your heart beats out of your chest as he fucks your high. Tears prickle your eyes and you’re reminded of a familiar euphoria — one you’d so painfully missed all year long without his company.
You feel a mix of pain and pleasure when teeth sink into your shoulder. You run your fingers through his hair, grabbing hold of his locks when he fucks you so deep his balls start to stick to your pussy. He releases a low grunt, shoving his cock into you a couple pumps more till he starts to fill your insides.
When his cock slides out of you, and his cum begins to drip from your pussy down to your legs, the realization hits the both of you of whatever the fuck just happened.
“I—” Sukuna breaks the silence, “I want you back. Please? Come back to me.”
You turn around seeing his pleading eyes. You weren’t even sure that was ever possible.
Sukuna waits for an answer, but you kiss him instead of giving him one.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” You wrap your arms around his waist, his softening cock pressing against you.
He lets out a low chuckle, corners of his lips upturned as he pulls you closer to him.
“Also, he and I… we’ve broken up months ago.”
The look on his face is priceless. He definitely feels cheated but that slowly turns into relief.
“You idiot. You could’ve told me that sooner.”
“Sorry.”
“Do me a favor,” he mutters. “Wear that shirt for me, please?”
In hindsight, it was a good idea to do this after all. You’ve got your stuff back, and your boyfriend. Plus it’s back to fucking like bunnies for an entire week straight.
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pspsps. reblogs and comments are appreciated ♥︎
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neuvilyney · 2 days ago
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𖦹°⭒˚。⋆ how/when they first realized that they're in love with you ⋆。𖦹°‧
ft. Tighnari, Wanderer, and Xiao
★ I can't remember if this was a request or not, but I found this draft from last June and I couldn't let it go to waste, so here's this! :D
★ No content warnings that I can think about. Just fluff and the boys not knowing how to cope with catching feels lmao
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𝗧𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗻𝗮𝗿𝗶 " 𝗩𝗲𝗿𝗱𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗦𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗿 "
★ Tighnari is extremely in tune with himself: this includes his feelings, his body, and his thoughts. And yet, he finds that around you, everything gets mixed up into one big puddle of goo. Whenever you weren’t watching, his observant eyes were trained on you. He’d analyze you like a foreign species of flora, trying to pick apart what about you made his heart pound in his ears, what made him stutter and blush like a lovesick teenager, what caused the ache in his chest whenever you weren’t nearby. He’s considered the thought of having a crush on you, but each time, he’d simply brush it off as a hormone imbalance or try to rationalize it as a perfectly normal reaction. 
★ Realizing his love for you felt like a double take. “Oh.” and then “Oh.” It’s a split second that changes his entire perspective, and it hits him in the most random of times. He could be pressing flowers and then smile at the realization that those were your favorite flowers. Or maybe he’s jotting down notes and finds himself writing a few letters the same way you do. It could even be something as small as looking up at the sky and wondering if you saw the same shape in the clouds that he did.
★ Once he realizes he’s in love with you, everything makes sense. The puddle of goo slowly melts away and everything feels okay again, and the clarity of everything hits him like a truck. He needs to say something. Tighnari is a man of action. He thinks before he speaks, but he speaks before you can think. He’d take a moment to think about what he would say, but then he’s standing right in front of you with rosy cheeks and a determined look on his face. And then finally, he’d say those three special words to you--
- 𖦹 -
“You’re a pain.” Tighnari couldn’t help but sigh as he crossed his arms, looking at you up and down with a tired expression. Yet, a faint smile tugged at his lips as he watched you struggle with a particularly invasive type of vine. You’re tangled in it like a bug in a spiderweb, a defeated look on your face as you hang limply from the vines. 
You groan, crossing your arms as you glare at him. The sight of him looking at you so smugly made you want to slap him and possibly kiss him. Maybe not in that order though. “I am no such thing! I’m just-- ugh…” The vines dug into your skin as they held you by your ankle, and you sighed in defeat before reaching out to him. His fluffy ears twitched with delight at the way you frowned so adorably, and he swiftly used an arrow to cut the vine, catching you when you fell. However, he clearly didn't think this through all the way. As he held you, watching your expression shift from relief to shock to a mixture of embarrassment and bashfulness, his own eyes widened and a warm blush spread over his cheeks, his fluffy ears twitching whilst his tanned skin continued to redden.
Oh.
Oh.
Tighnari was dead silent when he put you down, and he briskly turned around before starting to walk away. “Wait! Don’t just leave me here!” You sighed, starting to swiftly follow him, doing your best to ignore the way your heart pounded. The walk back was painfully awkward, your attempts at conversation followed by dry responses if a response at all. And eventually, you had enough! The way he refused to meet your gaze, how his hands clenched at his sides just to make sure they didn’t touch yours, he was avoiding you like the plague despite being right beside you. And so, you pivoted on your heel until you stood right before him.
“Okay, what’s with you? Ever since the vine thing, you’re acting like I did something wrong! Did…did I do something wrong?” Your confused and hurt expression made his heart ache, and Tighnari couldn’t help but shake his head fervently-- the way his ears bounced with each movement would have been adorable had it not been for the hurt you felt. Tighnari’s cheeks blushed a soft red, his multicolored eyes trained on you in a serious manner. It looked like he was about to scold you, with his serious frown and crossed arms, so you mentally prepared yourself for yet another lecture. 
“No, you’ve done nothing wrong. Well, getting tangled in the vines was rather stupid,” You bit the inside of your cheek, resisting the urge to say it wasn’t your fault, but he continued regardless. “But, I’m grateful you did. Had it not been for your adorably clumsy nature, I would not have had the chance to catch you in my arms.” As your eyes widened, a small smirk tugged at his lips and he took a step towards you. “And if I hadn’t held you so close, I don’t think I would have realized this just yet.” Tighnari seemed to trail off on this annoying cliffhanger, and you sighed before looking up at him. 
“...Realized what?” As if he’d been waiting for you to ask, he leaned close- close enough that his hair tickled your nose and his lips brushed against your ear as he whispered:
“That you have me foolishly, hopelessly smitten.”
⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓇼⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅
𝗪𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗿 " 𝗞𝘂𝗻𝗶𝗸𝘂𝘇𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗶 "
★ It took him ages to realize he loved you. No seriously, it would take years. Some part of him knew you were special, but he could never figure out why. Was it the way your smile made him anxious? Or perhaps the way your voice made his face heat up with-... with rage? Maybe it was the way every little thing reminded him of you, like an annoying bug that wouldn’t go away. Yet, he found that none of these things were actually…bad. He loved your smile, the way it made his artificial heart race. He adored your voice, the way it made him blush so heavily. And he absolutely loved the way everything reminded him of you, like some part of you was always with him. It took him a while to realize he did actually like you, and not hate you. And then after that, it took even longer to realize he loved you.
★ Realizing he was in love with you felt like a nightmare. It was a panic, a moment of weakness. Him? Love? Please, what a sick joke. Yet…after the panic subsided, he found his heart reaching out to you who he adored so dearly. You would understand, wouldn’t you? Surely you, who had the patience of a mother, would understand his pathetic feelings? Or would you turn him away, and leave him behind yet again? He’d spend days agonizing over the what if’s though he tried not to. He was too prideful to admit someone like you could reduce him to a total mess. The amount of questions circling his brain only served to make him angrier, and he swallowed back his fears for just long enough to shout a very upset sounding “I THINK I LOVE YOU.” Honestly, it almost sounded like he was cursing at you.
★ In summary, Wanderer is an emotional mess. His hundreds of years alive have been dedicated to anything but his feelings. He was destined for something greater than human emotions in his mind. However, when he sees the way your face shifts from shock to a relieved happiness, he realized maybe this was his destiny all along. Maybe loving you, who made him truly feel, was the divine purpose he was meant for all along.
- 𖦹 -
A chill ran down your spine for the fifth time in the past few minutes, and your eyes awkwardly shifted to the ground. He has been staring at you for a creepy amount of time, but it wasn’t his usual glare- and somehow, that only serves to make you more nervous. You gulped thickly, drumming your fingers over your arm before your head snapped to him, and you raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, what is it?” In response, Wanderer simply shrugged. Gods, he could be so infuriating. You could feel your eyebrow twitch as you gritted your teeth, resting a hand on your hip. “I see, so you’ve been staring at me for five minutes just for fun?” Once again, he shrugged. The faintest shade of red dusted the tips of his ears, and his hands limply rested in the pockets of his shorts. You could see the way he turned his head, hiding it behind his intricately-detailed hat. The sight of his blushed ears made your eyes narrow, and you reached out to grab his wrist- causing him to let out a curse. Finally, a reaction!
Wanderer looked down at your hand on his wrist, and then back up at you. And then down to his wrist before he tugged his hand away. Though, he found that he quickly missed the feeling of your soft hand warming his cold skin. The way his hand subconsciously reached out to hold yours once more made him scoff and he shoved his hand back in his pocket, quickly looking away. “What’s the big idea, huh?” His indigo eyes crinkled when he snarled, but a certain glitter swirled within them that made you smile knowingly. Wanderer leaned forward, flicking your forehead when you didn’t respond. He did this a lot, and always smiled at the way you yelped and/or pouted. But this time, his smile wasn’t mocking or amused, but oddly…endearing? 
“You’ve only insulted me three times today!! Come on, we both know something’s up.” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms- and you didn’t miss the way he mirrored your expression.
He sighed, shaking his head before looking up at you. “You really wanna know? Really?” His arms crossed as his wide-brimmed hat cast a shadow over his face, but even through the dark, you could see a blush begin to coat his pale cheeks. When you nodded, he sighed again, leaning close to you. “You’re making my head do weird shit and I don’t like it one bit.” Your confused expression made him groan as he tried to explain further. “Come on, don’t play stupid!! I keep having these…gross and cheesy thoughts about you whenever you get close. And the way you smile…it makes me…happy.” He spoke the word with such disgust, it almost made you laugh. “When I see your hand, I want to crush- no, hold it…” The more he spoke, the more those dark eyes softened until they were nothing more than pools of indigo honey. But sadly, he snapped out of it, growling in frustration and grabbing your shoulders. “S--So what’re you doing to me, huh?! What, are you some kind of witch? Do you enjoy making me feel this weird?!”
The more you processed his words, the more you smiled. Slowly, your head tilted to the side and you laughed, shaking your head when his blush only worsened. “Wanderer…do you lik--” He quickly slapped a hand over your mouth, squeezing his eyes shut before shouting-
“I THINK I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU OR SOMETHING, OKAY?!”
⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓇼⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅
𝗫𝗶𝗮𝗼 '𝗔𝗹𝗮𝘁𝘂𝘀'
★ Realizing his love for you felt like a insult. He figured that his romantic feelings towards you were just…a glitch in the matrix. There was something about you that made his heart do backflips, and he did not like it. And so, he avoided you like the plague. But, distance makes the heart grow fonder after all. With each moment that passed without you beside him, he only felt lonelier. Even despite his eons of solitude, a mere moment without you felt like another thousand years. And so, one lonely night, you call out his name. And there he is, red faced and wide eyed, standing before your teary eyes.
★ He didn’t want to admit he was in love with you. Could he, The Conqueror of Demons, feel something as human as…love? Did he even deserve to? And so, the mere thought of falling in love with you felt almost insulting to him. It was a shock, something that almost angered him. He shouldn’t feel these things! But…if it wasn’t meant to be, then why does he like it? Why does he love the way his face heats up when you smile up at him? Why does he love the way you make him blush and laugh like a fool? Why does he love the way he loves you? Ultimately, he decides these questions are futile. Slowly, his feeling of betrayal and offense morphed into a feeling of fondness. And even slower, he’d finally brush the dust off of the lonely heart he’d safely sealed away behind the armor of his ribs. 
★ He didn’t want to tell you at first. He didn’t know how to tell you. Despite that, after the realization of his feelings, he just couldn’t wait! He felt like an impatient child, bouncing on his feet and biting the insides of his cheeks. But, when you rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder at the sight of his pensive face, he knew it would all be okay. As you gave him the sweetest smile he’s ever seen, he understood his feelings for the first time. For Xiao, falling in love with you was a confusing, terrifying process full of heartache and betrayal. But, loving you? God, it was the easiest thing he’d ever done. 
- 𖦹 - 
You’ve never seen him so anxious before. It was oddly unsettling, to be honest. Watching him shift his gaze every few seconds like a guilty child, the way his fingers fiddled with the material of his pants, even his scowl looked more like a nervous frown. Slowly, you set your pencil down, looking up at him with a concerned gaze from where you watched him pace around the inn. “Xiao, are you oka-”
“YES.”
You deadpanned for a moment, wanting to be amused at his immediate answer that contradicted his expression of pure nerves. Instead, you were only more worried. Slowly, your hands pushed against the table to prop you up and your shoes glided over the wooden floor before you were an arm’s length away from him. Xiao sighed slowly, resting his hands on the sill of the balcony with his head tilted away from you. This is a common occurrence for the both of you. Standing on the balcony, resting on it while watching the sun set. It was calming for both of you, but also made it much easier to discuss feelings neither of you liked. Past memories, traumas, bad days, any and all of it. But this…this was different.
“...No, I’m not.” Ah, there it is. Xiao’s eyes averted from yours, trained on the sky above the both of you as his hands gripped at the wooden sill. Patiently, you watched him, awaiting his next words. He was tense, and in all the time you’ve known him, you hadn’t seen him this afraid since the fall of Rex Lapis. Slowly, his head tilts to meet your gaze. His eyes were wide, glimmering in the fading sunlight while his pale skin carried a rosy tint that reached all the way to his elven ears. 
You smiled gently, reaching over to pat his shoulder- he still tensed, but it was nothing like before. He wasn’t one to let people touch him. Not even you, not at first. He would flinch, shove your hand away, and move from you- always the same actions in different orders. But, over time, he started to relax under your touch. This time was no different as he let out a small sigh.
“There’s something bothering me.” Xiao spoke slowly, his voice gruff and low but also hesitant. “I feel…weird around you. I’ve heard of these feelings in those stories told by Liyuen romantics, how one’s heart flutters around those they…love. But I’m not…capable of that.” He continued on this spiel, and your eyes widened at the way he indirectly confessed to you. But, even as a wobbly smile overtook your lips, you remained quiet. “I’m a Yaksha, an adepti, I-I can’t feel something like this. And yet, I am. I am, and I don’t know how to feel about it.”
Xiao groaned, raking a hand through his hair before he turned to you, a small frown on his lips when you rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. You hummed softly, scooting closer before resting a head on his shoulder. “I feel the same way, Xiao. You may be an adeptus, but you still experience human emotions. Feelings confuse all of us, even adepti like you and humans like me. But, there’s no need to be afraid of them.” Your voice is nearly a whisper, letting your eyes flutter shut as his hand shakily reaches over to hold yours. He sucks in a quick breath, letting out a slow exhale before whispering:
“In that case…I think I’m in love with you.”
⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓇼⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅
Word Count: 2907
⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓇼⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅
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- Ky♡♡
295 notes · View notes
lady-lauren · 2 days ago
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❥ RYOMEN SUKUNA X FEM! READER
❥ WORD COUNT: 2k
❥ WARNINGS/TAGS: Cannibalism (Sukuna just takes a few bites of you, as a treat), Sukuna has two cocks and four arms, major dub-con, blood, Sukuna is a sadist, double penetration (vaginal and ass fucking), degradation, branding (his name on your skin), squirting, belly bulge, overstimulation, creampie
Dead Dove Do Not Eat. I’m serious. Sukuna eats more than just pussy.
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→ Kinktober Masterlist ←
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“Oh you poor, poor little thing,” his maniacal mouth coos, sweat shimmering against the black lines of his body like an abyss, “does it hurt? I bet it does.”
It’s a rarity that Sukuna plays with his toys, normally too insatiable to take his time and savor. But you’re just so sweet, juicy with fear and plump with arousal. 
He’ll have to taste the whole menu to decide which doughy part of you is his favorite. 
You’re spread open like a feast, two hands prying your legs apart while another keeps your pesky hands locked above your head. Sorcerers are tricky—one lapse in judgment and you’ll be squirming out of his bed, throwing annoying techniques at him like you really think you stand a chance.
Perhaps you won’t, though. Your precious cunt is drooling for him, even as his fourth hand digs a claw into the flesh of your thigh. Blood swells to the surface, spilling in a streak down your skin. So close to where your pussy is stretched open, where your tight little hole is fluttering like it's scared. 
“Just a few little bites, m’kay? Then maybe, just ~maybe~ I’ll let you go.”
“H-how many?” 
He’s surprised you can still speak. 
“Hmmmm,” his voice rumbles in the thick confines of his throat as he ponders. Carmine irises flicker over the shape of you. “This looks good.” Sukuna taps his bloody fingertip to the underside of your breast, pressing into the gooey fat. “This too.” He traces a sharp fingernail across the juncture of your neck and shoulder, eyes sparking when you swallow. “And I already got started down here.”
Sukuna digs a claw back into your sore thigh, using the barest hint of his strength to rip into your tender muscle. 
Your scream makes a satisfied shiver run down all of his limbs, both cocks throbbing. They twitch together, hot and angry, red tips leaking down his shafts.
Licking his lips, he admires the sugary shine of your subcutaneous tissue, peeled back to reveal bloody insides of your flesh. Just a little rip, a stringy bit of meat that’s too easy to fully tear off and slide between his teeth. 
Sukuna swallows and the taste of you makes him want to cum.
“Mhmmmm, fuck, what did you do to get so flavorful, hm? Or have you always been so sweet?” 
He watches you whimper and wiggle, nipples hard and puffy. 
“You like this?” The grin that curls around the tattoos on his cheeks is sickening. “What a fucking delightful little human. I’ve never gotten lucky enough to find one of the sluts.”
He tests his theory under the safety net of knowing that pain makes you numb. Releasing your wrists, he revels in how you simply let the weight of freedom fall into his mattress. You aren’t going anywhere.
Your poor little pussy is creaming, squishy and wet and begging. He likes the way it smells—tangy, thick honey. It almost overpowers the iron scent of dripping blood. 
“‘Suppose you need some attention. Don’t want you passing out before I’m done.”
You gratify him with a high-pitched moan as he swirls two fingers against your cunt, knuckles sticky in your slick. Easy, it’s far, far too easy for him to slip his digits into you. Normally there’s resistance, like human pussies are trying to push him out, yet you’re sucking him in.
“What should I eat next? Pick for me.”
All the emotions that filter over your face are foreign to him. He’s not sure what you’re thinking, but can smell some sick mixture of pain and pleasure rippling over your skin as you weakly buck your hips. His fingers sink deeper into your cunt, claws tickling against soft spots that make you mewl. 
“C’mon,” he tsks, “don’t make me wait.”
Your little gulp is so cute, “My c-cunt…”
“Oh, don’t get greedy. Dessert comes last. Try again.”
You’re almost shy as you drag one of your hands from above your head, trailing down to cup one of your breasts and squeeze. “Here?”
“My, my, those tits do look delicious.” 
He shoves a third finger into your weeping hole as he latches his teeth to the fat of your breast. 
He sucks, tastes your sweat, licks at the salt. As the first bite hits his taste buds, blood trickling down the corners of his lips, his eyes go wide in astonishment. He wasn’t expecting such a burst of flavor, like jellied candy popping in his mouth.
Your shrieks are just fodder, background noise, as he hums in delight and sucks at the viscid lining of your skin.
Fuck. With the next bite he wants to be inside you, feel the tremors of your wrecked body around his dicks. 
The wound bleeds down your stomach as he pulls away, swallowing and licking along his sharp teeth to gather the remnants. 
“Aren’t you just such a treat?” 
Sukuna swats your cheek, quick with his nails angled like a cat so he can scratch at your skin. Your head lolls to the sheets, panting, damaged tits heaving as you try to find sanity. It’s too late for that. He’s going to break your body and mind, binge in your honeyed sorrow. 
“Wakey, wakey, little human. You won’t want to miss what comes next.”
Your brows pinch as he draws his messy fingers from your cunt, only to wrap a hand around each of his cocks so he can pop both heads into your holes. 
That wakes you up. 
“C-can’t, n-not both.” 
“Oh please, you’re all soft and squishy. Girls are made to be fucked.”
The swell of your belly as he pushes in makes him even hungrier. Your ass strangles his cock, the rim wet with the drippings of your slick. He hates that he has to be careful. A too strong push could split you on his dicks, and he’s having far too much fun to be devouring your guts just yet. 
But he’s not gentle. All four hands latch onto you—legs held so wide it’s nearly obscene, the other two sinking into your rib cage and smearing in blood so he can pull you down until you’re impaled. 
The squeeze of you is divine. 
The heavy mass of his cocks stretches your walls thin. He can feel the outline of both his dicks as he starts to thrust, mushroom heads catching on one another before bullying in deep.
It’s no surprise that you’re crying—humans always cry, sob, beg. It is perplexing and oh so satisfying, however, that you’re blubbering because you feel good amidst all your pain and suffering. Your hips are rolling back to meet his thrusts, pussy convulsing every time his pelvis grinds into your clit. 
Your bleeding and broken body is devouring him just like he swallowed your flesh. Your gooey pussy is sucking around him, dragging along his shaft like lips gobbling him whole. 
The hiss he releases is sinful, like a snake coiling as his tattooed thighs presses you deeper into the crimson mess he’s created. He likes the way the ichor stains your skin. He takes a bloodied hand and curls it around your thigh, fingers long enough to overlap and color your flesh like a brand. He could crunch your bones beneath his palms, break you into pieces if he wanted.
“Do you want me to, ah fuck—” he loses his train of thought when the sound of his voice makes your ass clench, ribbed walls wedging around his second cock. “Never fucking mind giving you the option. I’m keeping you. Alive. Want your body warm every time I fuck it.”
The look in your eyes is so hopeful and darling that it almost makes him feel something. 
Sukuna pummels into your gaping holes and leans over your body to sink his teeth into your neck. He bites hard, hard enough to make you weep and wail and to remind him that you’re only here to be devoured.
He rips tender flesh and digests it, drinking down more of your blood as you start to coo from the stinging pain and numbing ecstasy of having him ravage your sensitive little pussy and ass. You get so tight around him in your anguish, all fucked out and eaten like you’re nothing but a willing piece of meat. 
His wanton tongue laves over your marred skin, sliding through blood and sinew. Humans always were his favorite. Only now he can’t remember what any of them tasted like before you.
Your cunt is slobbering, creaming, and he’s pretty sure he hears your weak little heart stop beating for a split moment before you cum. 
“God what a good fucking slut,” he purrs, eyes rolling back in his head as he feels both of your channels compress around his lengths as you break. “Let’s make you do that again.”
You’re so overstimulated from the bliss of his cocks thrusting in, out, in, deeper, faster that all the suffering he inflicted is null. You cum again because it’s so easy to make you, one of his hands pinching your swollen clit until you squirt all over his toned stomach and your belly bulges from the shape of his inflating cock.
“Ohh I like that. More. Give me more.”
Two hands keep your kicking legs pinned to the bed as another torments your clit and the last is gathering your slick. He runs his fingers over the grooves of his abs and up to his pecs, finally flicking his fingertips into his mouth to eat your cum like sauce. 
His cocks swell at the flavor of you, tart and salty like some kind of rich delicacy. 
Sukuna continues to stuff you full, over and over again, pressing in until it seems like you’ll pop. His balls are bruising against your body with every brutal thrust. You’re babbling and messy, coated in slick and blood and tears and spit. It’s almost disgusting, yet he has to admit you’re just so damn pretty and warm that he thinks it’s cute. Like a pet. 
He rubs at your engorged clit until you’re squirting and screaming again, babbling about how it’s too much. Only it’s not enough, not for him. He’s close to the edge and knows just how to get himself off. 
Sucking at a clawed fingertip, Sukuna eyes a soft patch of skin below your bouncing, intact tit. The other is still seeping, his fresh bite etched into the globe.
“One last thing,” he smirks, crazed and nearly fucked out, “gotta let everyone know these slutty holes belong to me.”
The sharp tip of his nail digs into your meat, slicing the characters of his name as if he was signing a gory, whorish picture. His smile nearly splits his skull at the sight, all bloody and gross and his.
“~K-Kunaaa…” hearing his broken name out of your stupid little slut mouth is the last straw, some primal instinct to claim his prize overwhelming his senses and making him explode. 
Cum bursts from your seams all while bloating in your belly, your ass, pearly white strings glistening against all your fluids. He feels relieved as he releases into you, hot balls pulsing as he feeds his seed into your gummy depths. 
You’re so full of his cum that another orgasm crests over you, making you tremble and quake and scream. He relishes your final squeezes, letting your cunt and ass suction around his cocks until he’s milked dry. 
“I fucking love whores.” Just because he can, he pushes his hand into your bulging belly, laughing as cum gushes from where your pussy is cinched around his shaft. You whimper, twisting against the hands holding your thighs open. 
“No no no,” he wags a finger at you, “I still haven’t had dessert.”
He wonders if he’ll be able to stop himself from sinking his teeth into the delicate, syrupy folds of your cunt. Depends on just how good you taste.
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theemporium · 1 day ago
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[4.4k] upon meeting their captain's new girlfriend, some of the devils are convinced there is something supernatural about her. others aren't. jack deems it his job to prove it.
[find other fright night specials here]
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“She is hiding something.”
Jonas watched the way Jack slumped onto the couch, wiggling his way between himself and Timo. He also watched the way Timo took a long sip from his beer, pretending like he hadn’t heard what Jack just said despite the boy staring at him expectantly. 
“Who’s hiding something?” Jonas asked, despite knowing he would regret even opening his mouth. Which was confirmed even more when Jack’s head snapped around, a glint in his eyes that made Jonas a little uncomfortable.
“Cap’s new girl.” 
Jonas blinked before raising brows. “You mean the girl we just met for the first time half an hour ago?” 
“Yes, her,” Jack confirmed with a nod, frowning. “Geez, you think Nico would two time someone? God, Siegs, he’s a Capricorn, not a monster.” 
Jonas’ nose scrunched. “I have not drunk enough for you to start talking nonsense. Where’s Luke, I need a translator.”
Jack jabbed his side with his obscenely pointy elbows in response.
“Ouch,” Jonas hissed. 
“But I’m telling you,” Jack insisted, leaning back against the couch. “She’s weird.” 
“Dude,” Dawson muttered from the armchair beside them. “Not cool.” 
“You literally don’t know her,” Jonas pointed out. “And you’re also the last person to call someone weird.”
“Not like bad weird,” Jack huffed. “Just…suspicious weird.” 
Timo groaned. “Someone make him stop.”
“Suspicious weird?” Nate repeated, his brows raised like he was thoroughly amused by the whole conversation. “Suspicious how?” 
Jack lifted his chin. “Suspicious in the supernatural way.” 
Nate let out a boisterous laugh in response.
“Jack,” Jonas sighed deeply, pressing his fingers against his temples like it would rid him of the thumping pain that had nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with the boy next to him. “What in loving fuck are you talking about?”
“Ignore him,” Luke piped up as he appeared from thin air, moving around the gangle of stretched out legs before settling down on the armrest of Dawson’s armchair. “He’s been watching loads of Vampire Diaries right now. He is delusional.” 
“It’s a seasonal show,” Jack grumbled.
“It’s giving you stupid ideas,” Timo retorted. “What, you think Cap is shacking it up with some vampire chick?”
“Well, nobody said vampire. I haven’t narrowed it down yet. Feels rude to assume, you know?” Jack said. “But she’s something.”
“She’s Nico’s girlfriend,” Jonas stated bluntly. “And this is probably why he waited so long to introduce her to us. Because you’re insane.”
“Or because she knows we will find out what she’s hiding,” Jack insisted, his eyes narrowed at the scene across the room. 
Jonas turned his head to catch a glimpse of what Jack was looking at, just to find Nico tucked away in the corner of the room with one arm around you. He kept you plastered to his side, a fond smile on his lips and a look of pure adoration in his eyes as he listened to you whisper something to him. It was a sweet sight, and very lacking in the supernatural aspect. 
“On the very slim chance she is,” Nate started. 
Jonas groaned. “Don’t encourage him.”
“What are you gonna do about it?” Nate finished, his eyes fixed on Jack’s pondering expression.
“Well,” Jack shrugged. “I’m his A. I gotta make sure he’s safe.” 
“He’s a big boy, he can handle himself,” Timo waved him off.
“Not if she’s a siren. I’ve seen what those things can do—”
“In a TV show made over a decade ago.”
“Shut up, Luke.”
All in all, no one had given much thought into Jack’s insane theory. 
Over the course of the next few weeks, there had been a few more interactions between you and the team but Jonas had assumed Jack had realised how delusional he was being and dropped it. That was his mistake for thinking Jack was anything close to self aware. But in Jonas’ humble opinion, every interaction with you had been completely normal and completely human.
And Jack had seemed to think so too until the Devils Family Skate Day came up. 
“Big day, huh?” Nate teased as he walked into the locker room, giving Nico a playful nudge as he walked past his stall. 
Nico lifted his head, brows furrowing together a little but he smiled nonetheless. “I mean, yeah, I guess.” 
Nate raised his brows. “Wow, Cap, pretty sure you are meant to be a bit more hyped about your girl meeting your family for the first time. Your folks flew over, didn’t they?” 
“Well, yeah,” Nico smiled but shrugged his shoulders. “But uh, they aren’t meeting her today.” 
Jonas paused what he was doing, somewhat surprised. “She isn’t coming today?”
Nico shook his head but Jack opened his mouth before he could say anything. 
“What? How come? I thought you two were serious now,” Jack questioned, a weird glint in his eyes that Jonas didn’t like the look of at all. “You know, she hasn’t been to any games either, has she? Is she not a hockey fan?” 
“Stop interrogating,” Jonas grumbled. 
“No, she is but,” Nico paused, waving his hand like the motion meant something. “She’s not feeling great today so she is staying home.” 
“She’s sick?” Jack asked. 
“Probably Nico’s cooking,” Timo snorted.  
“She just feels a bit…uh, what’s the word…sensitive?” Nico answered, his brows furrowed together like he was thinking hard about his response. “She’ll be better for the dinner at Pally’s house though, don’t worry.” 
Jack’s face lit up. “The dinner at Pally’s?” 
Nico shot him a weird look. “Yes, Jack, the one you know about too because you’re in the group chat.”
Jack didn’t seem fazed. “The one on Thursday?” 
“Yes?” 
“Thursday night?”
“Is there a joke I’m missing?” Nico retorted but nodded. “Yes, the one on Thursday night. It’s nothing contagious, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s not,” Jack responded, absolutely gleeful. 
But Nico decided not to question it further—because he was a smart man—and instead continued to gear up before he made his way out onto the ice, stepping up as captain to be the first one on the ice for the cameras.
It took less than thirty seconds after Nico walked out before Jack broke.
“I fucking knew it!” 
Heads turned in the locker room, a mix of confused and baffled faces staring at the boy but it was Jonas who sighed deeply and took one for the team, instead of ignoring Jack like his conscience was telling him to do. 
“Knew what?” 
“She’s a vampire!” 
Jonas blinked. “Excuse me?” 
“Cap’s girl!” Jack insisted, almost giddy in his seat. “She’s a vampire!”
“I thought you didn’t want to make any assumptions,” Jonas deadpanned. 
“Well, I’ve assumed now and my assumption is right,” Jack replied, a little snotty when he did. “She’s a vampire. It’s so obvious.”
“I am gonna regret asking this but,” Jonas paused, taking a deep breath like he was preparing himself. “How is it obvious?” 
Jack shot him a look. “Dude.”
Jonas raised his brows in response. 
“We never see her during the day,” Jack stated, as if that made his way of thinking any clearer to Jonas. 
“Oh shit,” Nate murmured, nodding. “Hughesy has a point.”
“No, he does not. Stop encouraging this,” Jonas sighed before turning back to Jack. “What the fuck are you on about?” 
“How many times have we met her?” Jack questioned, that odd glint in his eyes shining brighter than before. It was very disconcerting. 
“Uh, like five?” 
“Uh huh,” Jack nodded, grinning. “And what’s the common denominator with each of those meetings?” 
Jonas didn’t bother to hide his surprise. “You know what denominator means?” 
“Shut up and answer the question.” 
Jonas huffed. “I don’t know, you were watching her like a creep?” 
“Observing in the name of science,” Jack corrected before leaning over to smack Jonas’ arm. “Dude, we only ever saw her at night. We have never met her during the day. Nico has only brought her for dinners.” 
Jonas blinked. “So that makes her a vampire?” 
“Nico said so himself!” Jack exclaimed. “He said she was feeling sensitive!” 
“You feel sensitive after one rum and coke,” Nate countered. 
“Low blow, Bas.” 
“This is ridiculous,” Jonas grumbled, shifting his attention back to lacing his skates and getting the rest of his gear on before one of the media staff came in to yell at them, “She isn’t a vampire, Jack. Drop it.”
“I’m gonna prove it.”
“Please don’t.”
“Just wait and see, Siegs.”
Jack’s first attempt at proving that his assumption was correct actually happened at Pally’s dinner that Thursday. 
It was a laidback get-together, something to keep team morale high with not as much effort, considering hitting restaurants around Jersey wouldn’t be the most relaxing or lowkey environment most of the team desired on their off days. Every once in a while, one of the older guys with the bigger houses offered their place up and everyone brought something for the table. 
Jonas made the mistake of assuming Luke would keep his older brother in line. 
Because Luke did not, in fact, keep his brother in line. If anything, half of the team were encouraging his snooping and theorising. Well, mostly Nate who kept sending Jack bullshit articles that Jonas was pretty sure were just Twilight fan websites. 
“Ready to eat dirt?”
Jonas frowned. “Don’t tell me that’s what you brought with you, Pally’s kids are eating with us.” 
“I—” Jack sighed, shaking his head. “No, I didn’t bring dirt, Jonas. It’s an expression. I’m asking if you are ready to accept that you are wrong.”
“Is this about the vampire thing?” Jonas questioned.
“Glad to know you think there are multiple options of things I can prove you wrong on,” Jack retorted, grinning boyishly. “Listen, this is foolproof. Trust me.”
Jonas did not trust him a single bit. 
He also made the mistake of taking his eyes off Jack for longer than thirty seconds—to have a very nice conversation with Pally’s wife about the lasagna dish she made—when he realised the boy was heading straight towards where you and Nico were sitting on one of the couches in the living room. 
“Oh fuck,” Jonas muttered, his feet already moving in that direction.
“You guys have to try this, it’s my mother’s recipe,” Jack announced as soon as he was in front of you both, extending the plate towards you and ripping the foil off the plate. 
Nico blinked. “Garlic bread?” 
“Yup,” Jack answered happily, popping the ‘p’ a little more because he was obnoxious like that.
“It looks like garlic bread from the store,” Jonas commented, standing by Jack’s side with his hand on his elbow, like he was ready to yank the boy away.
“Rude,” Jack sniffled. “It’s been passed down in my family for years.” 
Somewhere from the other couch, Luke snorted loudly. 
“Try a bit,” Jack insisted, pushing the plate closer towards you. “It’ll taste great with the lasagna. Promise.” 
You looked at the plate of garlic bread with weary eyes before flashing an apologetic smile. “I’ll have to pass this time round, sorry.” 
Jack downright beamed in response. “Is that so?” 
“Don’t want to eat anything too heavy,” you explained, lifting your plate to show the few appetisers you had nibbled on. “You’ll have to bring it to the next dinner though, it smells great.” 
“I am sure it does,” Jack grinned, not getting a chance to say much more before Jonas took pity on himself and Nico’s discombobulated face, dragging the younger boy away from everyone else. 
“Garlic? Really?” Jonas deadpanned once they were far enough away.
“Two-zero, team vampire,” Jack said smugly, picking up a piece of garlic bread and taking a large bite from it. “Just admit I’m right.”
“You need help.” 
The next attempt happened a week later. 
You had finally managed to make it to a game—a late game, much to Jack’s delight—and the excitement was clear on Nico’s face. Along with the hint of nerves. But the boys were more focused on the shock of seeing Nico walking into the locker room in a fucking turtleneck. 
“What?”
“What the fuck are you wearing?” Jesper managed to ask, considering the rest of the guys were staring at their captain like he had grown another head.
“It’s stylish,” Nico huffed, rolling his eyes as he ran his fingers along the collar of his turtleneck. “Thought I’d switch it up from the shirt and ties.” 
Timo raised his brows in amusement. “Did your missus get it for you?” 
“Why does that matter? I wanted to wear it,” Nico retorted.
Jack smacked Jonas’ thigh to gain his attention. “Aha!” 
Jonas turned his head. “Aha?” 
“Aha!” Jack repeated, keeping his voice low as he watched Nico from the other side of the locker room. “You know why he’s really wearing it, right?” 
“Because he is whipped?” Nate supplied from the other stall beside Jonas.
“Well, maybe,” Jack murmured, shrugging his shoulders. “Or maybe because he is hiding something.” 
“You need to get a hobby,” Jonas grumbled. 
“Like what?” Nate questioned.
“A bite mark,” Jack whispered with wide eyes.
“Shit, you think she’s making Cap one of her own?” Nate murmured, letting out a breath of disbelief. 
“Or she is feeding from him,” Jack added.
“You both need to get a hobby,” Jonas decided, shoving both of them back to get ready for warmups. 
For what it’s worth, none of them manage to catch a proper glimpse of Nico’s neck before they leave the locker room or even after the game.
During a small break between games where the boys were in Jersey for longer than three days, Nico had invited the whole team over for a housewarming party in his new place—the one he was sharing with you.
Jonas had mostly forgotten about the vampire nonsense because Jack hadn’t brought it up in the last few weeks, most of the boys far more focused on the games as they approached the end of the year. They wanted the best chances running into the new year and into playoffs, they wanted to utilise these games whilst their bodies didn’t feel too wrecked and tired. 
It was his own mistake for assuming the season would preoccupy the boy enough to forget it completely.
“Just a heads up, you should probably babysit Jack tonight.”
Jonas’ shoulders tensed slightly as he turned to look at Dawson with a frown. “Why? What is he planning?”
Dawson just flashed him a sheepish smile, shrugging before he quickly went to hide in the corner where Luke and Simon were sitting. 
Jonas let out a deep sigh, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling like some higher being would explain how in loving fuck he managed to be the one to babysit Jack’s vampire shenanigans before he pushed himself off the couch he was sitting on. He gripped the beer bottle in his hand, wondering if it would be worth grabbing another bottle before he started his hunt.
All things considered, it didn’t take long to find Jack considering the apartment itself wasn’t very big. For a second, Jonas thought maybe Dawson was trying to wind him up (it would not be the first time Luke had put the boy up to it). Until he saw Jack thrusting a gift bag towards you.
“Here we go,” Jonas grumbled.
“Oh, you didn’t have to,” you said with a smile, looking so genuinely surprised and touched by Jack’s thoughtfulness.
“It’s just a little something,” Jack shrugged. “Living with a hockey player and all that sweaty gear can be gross sometimes, I thought a candle would be something acceptable and useful.”
Jonas frowned at his wording.
“Oh,” you let out a noise of surprise as you pulled the candle from the bag, blinking a few times too many. “That’s really sweet of you. I’ll just go put this somewhere for safekeeping.”
“Nonsense!” Jack grinned as he reached into the bag, pulling out a box of matches. “We can light it now.”
You let out a slightly nervous laugh. “There’s really no need—” 
“Plus there’s a high chance someone will set their clothes on fire if we have an open flame,” Jonas jumped in, pausing for a moment before he frowned. “Again.”
“You could barely notice,” Jack scoffed.
“Jesper had no pants for the rest of the night,” Jonas retorted before flashing you a smile. “You should probably hide the matches too.”
“On it,” you said with a smile, rushing out the room like you couldn’t leave fast enough.
Jonas shifted his attention to the younger boy. “Really?”
“Vampires hate fire,” Jack explained with a casual shrug. “She’s just proving that I’m right.” 
“You are proving shit,” Jonas grumbled in response, shaking his head. “Stop scaring the poor girl before she gets a restraining order on you.”
“You know I’m right!” 
“I literally can’t think of something I disagree with more.” 
Jack Hughes was determined to prove that his captain was dating a vampire. 
He wasn’t like…anti-supernatural or anything like that. He just couldn’t quite seem to understand how some of his other teammates (or well, mostly Jonas) couldn’t see the obvious signs. He didn’t understand how those signs could be so easily ignored. 
Jack wasn’t against vampires by any means, but he watched enough movies and shows to know that not all of them were friendly. He just wanted to make sure you were one of the good ones. Surely, Jonas could see that. 
But instead, Jack found himself trying to prove you were a vampire to Jonas rather than figure out if you were one of the good ones.
In Jack’s humble opinion, the daylight coincidences, the garlic bread situation, the turtleneck fiasco and the candle incident were more than enough to prove his point. There were too many instances where the clues pointed to the obvious for Jack to ignore. 
Jonas seemed to think otherwise. 
And if he was being honest, Jack was tired of the constant doubt. If Jonas wanted proof, then Jack was going to give him proof he couldn’t deny with one of the most well-known facts about vampires. 
They do not show up in photographs. 
It was an old legend, possibly a myth, but one that Jack was banking on being true just to shove it in Jonas’ face—for purely selfish reasons. He had even gone as far as buying an old polaroid camera, gripping the device in his hands as he wandered around Curtis’ house, hoping to find the couple for a quick photo. 
It was New Years, the house was full of people Jack both knew and had never met before in his life and he was thoroughly buzzed from the countless glasses of champagne that had been shoved in his hands since he walked through the door. 
So obviously he was in the perfect condition to expose a vampire. 
Jack stumbled his way up the stairs, muttering a soft ‘fuck’ under his breath when he almost dropped the camera. The music was a little more muffled upstairs, the party a distant thought as he began walking around in hopes of finding you and Nico. 
He was passing by one of the guest rooms when he heard muffled voices and quickly skidded to a stop. He pressed his ear against the door, only to pause when he saw it was slightly ajar. And against his better judgement, he found himself peaking through the small crack. 
Nico was sitting on the edge of the bed, his head hanging as he seemed far more interested in the carpet than anything else. You were stood between his legs, your lips turned downwards as you let out a sigh. 
“C’mon, say it again.” 
“I don’t wanna.” 
“Nico,” you said in a pointed voice, running your hands through his hair before tugging his head back. You tilted your head, watching him closely before he spoke. “Say it again.” 
“I’m your boyfriend and you love me,” Nico murmured.
You raised your brows. “Say it like you mean it.”
Nico huffed out a small laugh but his eyes didn’t look away from you. “I’m your boyfriend and you love me.”
“Atta boy,” you grinned in response. 
However, the moment was ruined by the sound of Jack dropping the camera. Both of your heads snapped around and Jack’s feet didn’t seem to catch the memo to move before he landed flat on his ass, surrounded by pieces of his camera that were completely shattered. 
“Jack?”
Jack let out a shriek, lifting his hands over his head whilst the words tumbled past his drunken lips before he could stop himself. “Please don’t suck my blood!” 
You stood in the doorway, staring at the boy with a confused frown. “What?” 
“I’m sorry! I didn’t see you compel him! Don’t eat me!” Jack continued to ramble, his eyes clenched shut like he was waiting for a hit he knew was already coming, like he was prepared for it.
Nico shifted to stand behind you, also frowning down at Jack. “Compel what?” 
Jack slowly blinked his eyes open to find you both staring down at him with mixed expressions of amusement and concern. He gulped, his logic and common sense thrown out the window in his inebriated state. 
“Uh, her,” Jack stated dumbly as he glanced at you. “She compelled you.”
You blinked. “I what?” 
“Because you’re a vampire,” Jack said, a little bolder than before. 
Your lips parted. “I’m a what?” 
“Jack,” Nico sighed, all captainy and authoritative in a way that made Jack squirm a little in his seat, like he disappointed someone he shouldn’t have. “Why would you think my girlfriend is a vampire?” 
“Because it was obvious!” Jack insisted, scrambling to finally stand up—with the help of Nico reaching out to balance him when he began to sway. 
Nico, who now looked more amused than disappointed, only raised his brows in response. “And how was it obvious?” 
“We never saw her during the day!” Jack blurted out. “It was always at dinners or other night events. Never during the day.”
“Jack,” you said in a soft voice. “I work during the day. I don’t get off until six, and that’s on early days.” 
“Oh,” Jack murmured with a frown. “What about the garlic?”
“You mean the day you tried to shove store bought garlic bread in our faces?” Nico mused, shaking his head. “I told you she wasn’t feeling well. The garlic bread was too heavy, it would’ve upset her stomach.”
“And I’d rather not puke all over my boyfriend’s teammate’s house the first time I’m invited,” you added with a snort.
“The turtleneck?” Jack questioned.
“Like I said, a fashion choice,” Nico huffed, but his cheeks burned a little as he quickly pressed a kiss to your forehead. “And I loved the turtleneck, baby. One of my favourite outfits.”
You snorted in response. 
“What about the candle?” Jack insisted, his brows furrowing together. “You were so against me lighting it!” 
“Because I’m just sensitive to most smells,” you explained with a sheepish smile. “Most candles give me a headache but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings because it was very thoughtful.”
“Oh,” Jack repeated, feeling stupid for what felt like the millionth time in the last few minutes.
“It’s sweet that you were so concerned about Nico dating a vampire that you did all of this,” you added, giving his shoulder a soft squeeze. “Even if you did just wreck your camera.” 
“Don’t worry about it,” Jack murmured, his cheeks burning hot and pink. 
“Anything else you wanna get off your chest?” Nico questioned, watching as the boy blushed even more—if that was even possible.
“Maybe don’t mention this to Jonas?” 
Nico’s lips twitched. “My lips are sealed.” 
“Okay, good,” Jack nodded, swallowing harshly. “Now, if you excuse me, I need to go either sober up or get even more drunk.” 
You snorted in response.
“Sorry once again,” Jack added with a sheepish smile.
You waved him off. “Water under the bridge, Hughes.” 
This was definitely something Jonas would never let him forget when he found out.
“Be honest: was that your attempt of causing a distraction so I would forget why we came up here?” 
Nico couldn’t help but let out a laugh as he turned his head to look at you, smiling fondly when he found you already grinning back at him. He shook his head, winding his arms around your waist to tug you closer once he was sure Jack had disappeared back downstairs where the party was.
“You think I had anything to do with that?” Nico teased. “Please, I would know better.”
Your nose scrunched up a little. “I mean, a vampire? Come on!” 
“You would make the cutest vampire ever,” Nico said, laughing when you pinched his hip in retaliation. “Kidding, baby, I would never think you were one of those bloodsuckers.” 
“Damn right,” you huffed before your gaze softened. “Seriously though, before all the Jack stuff, you know it’s true, right? I love you and nothing will change that.” 
“Even your parents prefer your ex-boyfriend over a ‘measly human’?” Nico questioned, trying and failing to keep his voice lighthearted and playful as he repeated your parents’ hurtful words.
“Nico, baby,” you lifted your hands to cup his face, your voice honest and genuine as you spoke. “You’re it for me. I don’t care what anyone says, whether it's my parents being disapproving of me dating a human or your teammates thinking I’m a vampire. I want to be with you, no matter what. It’s you and me, Hischier.” 
Nico didn’t even bother to bite back the grin taking over his face as he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours and letting the tension slip away from his shoulders. “You and me,” he murmured between kisses. 
“Even if I was a bloodsucker?” You teased, something in your chest tightening at the way he smiled against your lips.
“Even then,” Nico mused before pulling away, a completely fond expression on his face. “Lucky for me, my girlfriend is way too pretty to be a bloodsucker.” 
You raised your brows. “Buttering me up, Hishcier?” 
“Just stating the truth,” Nico shrugged, still smiling down at you. “I always thought the werewolves were way cooler when Jack made me watch Twilight.” 
You snorted, shaking your head. “I’m much cooler than those wolves.” 
“Much cuter too,” Nico added, pressing his lips to the crown of your head and beaming when your eyes flashed yellow in response, something like a pleased purr leaving your lips when he pulled you closer.
.
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stvrnioloslvt · 2 days ago
Text
quiet - Chris Sturniolo
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fratboy!chris × jealous!reader
(dividers from @animatedglittergraphics-n-more)
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disclaimer: the following content is not suitable for an underage audience. please, if you are a minor do not interact in any way or form. thank you. check the trigger warning before reading, enjoy!
t.w: inappropriate language, unprotected sex (don't), a tiny bit of degrading language, jealousy, alcohol, I think nothing more.
a.n: soo...i'm impatient. i had planned to post this story on the 31st, once the poll ended, but i really don't like to wait that much. however, the results are clear: chris smut won with the 52.9%!
when you spot your boyfriend chris flirting with another girl at the Halloween party, you decide to take the matter in your hands and make him jealous thanks to matt. what you don't know, is that chris is keeping a close eye on you.
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“i really don’t wanna go to this stupid party, nick.”
“i know, but you know what?” nick put his hands on my shoulders, a gentle yet firm grip. he looked at me in the eyes, then said “at least you look hot as fuck, and that’s all that matters. walk through those doors as if your pussy is made out of gold, and see what happens.”
i smiled at my best friend. with new-found confidence, i walked towards the doors, swaying my hips in my skimpy DCC cheerleaders white shorts that left nothing to the imagination. nick followed right through, adjusting the fake fangs in his mouth. he was one hell of a hot vampire. 
as we entered the halloween-decorated fraternity of our college, we were immediately pulled aside by matt, who was waiting for us right at the entrance. blue and purple lights caressed his face, creating weird shadows all around.
“fuckin’ finally! what took you so long?”
“are your eyes actually open? don’t you see how hot we both look? good things are always the last to arrive.” i chuckled as nick pulled me in a side hug to prove a point to his brother.
i eyed matt up and down one last time. even in the weird colored lights, i noticed that something was off. “wait, why aren’t you dressed up?” 
“cause i’m getting the fuck out of here, i was waiting for you two just because i don’t want to leave chris here under the influence without one of us to check on him.”
“he’s already drunk?”
“yeah, you surprised?”
i looked around, trying to find that dumb-fuck, with no luck. 
“c’mon, let’s get the party started!” nick grabbed my hand, pushing through the crowd of sweaty and dressed up people to get us to the drinks.
“do you want to drink anything?” he screamed loud enough for me to understand him over the blasting music. i shook my head, still trying to find chris. i picked at my skin, worry eating me alive: where the fuck was he? he was drunk, what if he did something stupid, or worse, dangerous?
then, i spotted him: hidden in the corner of the room with some random girl, running his hand through his hair held back by the headband of his basketball player costume. she was talking about something, and i could see clearly the strand of blonde hair that he was playing with twirling in his hand as he leaned on the wall, with the cocky grin of someone who believes that he has the world at his feet.
i felt a wave of nausea hit me, hands shaking by my sides. 
nick followed my gaze, spotting his brother. his hand stopped midway, the red cup never reaching his lips. “no way…” he whispered. weirdly enough, i heard that. 
just as i was ready to leave everything and get the fuck out of there, nick stopped me.
“let me go, nick, i don’t want to spend another second here.”
“absolutely not.”
“nick, please.” tears pricked at my eyes, making it hard for me to keep them back.
“i can bet you a hundred bucks right now that he’s trying to work you up. two can play that stupid game, y/n, and you've got plenty of people who've been eyeing you up and down since we arrived. go out there and get him back."
i took a napkin, drying my tears before they could fall and ruin my makeup.
an idea popped up in my mind. i turned towards the door, spotting matt, ready to leave.
"nick, quick, how mean would it be if i took revenge with matt?"
"honestly? a lot", he begun, pulling out his phone, dialling matt's number. "but you know what? i support women's rights as well as women's wrongs. go do your thing, baby."
we watched as matt picked up the phone, turning towards us. nick told him to come to us before he left, and so he did.
"matt, go and dance with y/n. don't ask questions, we'll explain everything later."
matt looked at me with a puzzled look on his face, but he didn't complain when i pulled him through the crowd, right in the middle of the room.
"i'm sorry, matt, just a little payback to your dumb brother."
i briefly explained to him what happened, what we saw, and nick's idea, so that he knew what was actually happening.
"you know what? i need a tiny bit of alcohol in me, then we can truly give chris payback."
i watched as one of his friends brought him a red cup. he gulped it down, waiting for the alcohol to hit.
and when it did, we had the best night ever: we laughed, danced, twirled together. soon enough, everyone's eyes were on us, some were judging, others having fun with us. at a certain point i might have drunk something too, cause i found myself grinding against matt. and god knows how private we actually are around each other in our daily life.
i felt matt's hands travelling up my sides, pushing his hips against mine, making me feel his erection. i threw my head back against his shoulder as he placed wet kisses down my neck, hands squeezing me closer to him. soft breaths came out of my parted lips, losing myself in the moment: maybe it was the alcohol, or the music, or the knowledge that everyone does some dumb shit during halloween night and then act the next day like nothing happened, but i had a strong urge to grab him and kiss him, to feel his lips dance on mine, our bodies so close one another that they physically couldn't get closer.
just as i turned around, intoxicated enough to actually kiss him, a strong hand pulled me away from my friend.
"wha-" i turned around, welcomed by the sight of a pissed off chris: jaw clenched, eyes fixed on a spot in front of him, dragging me around the room, elbowing whoever dared to step in front of him.
i tried to free myself from his grip, pulling and tugging with all my might, but he didn't even bulge a tiny bit. "where the fuck do you think you are taking me-"
"quiet."
"chris i swear-"
"shut the fuck up," he growled. he dragged me up the stairs, stopping in front of a door. he opened it and pushed me inside.
he locked the door behind me, pushing me against it. his lips immediately found mine, kissing me roughly. it was an angry kiss, a forceful one. it was screaming vendetta, jealousy, hurt.
i tugged at his hair as his tongue made its way in my mouth. his hands gripped my hips, so hard that i was sure they would leave marks. he hooked his hand under my knee, pushing my leg up and around his waist. i tiptoed with the other leg, trying to gain a bit of height.
chris pressed his erection right against my pussy, grinding slightly to tease me.
"chris," i moaned, every little noise swallowed by his lips.
"such a whore," he growled, lifting me up. both my legs wrapped around his waist to steady myself, as my back hit the door behind me. from this new position, i could feel his tip pushing right at my entrance.
"you really had to go all out and fuck my brother, didn't you? such a needy slut."
"the only slut here is you, flirting with that little friend of yours."
he snorted, clearly pissed off at my comeback.
"you really have no idea of what is coming, ma."
chills ran down my spine at that threat, at his dark voice and blown out pupils. he had the look of someone ready to eat you alive, and that was probably his intent.
"how pathetic," he mumbled before ripping apart the tight fabric of my shorts, leaving me completely bare.
i gasped, trying to pull away. "my shorts!"
"oh please," he started, "they were covering nothing. you could walk out there like this and no one would notice the difference."
he pressed me harder against the door as he pulled down his pants, just enough for his dick to spring out.
"hope matt got you wet enough," he chuckled ironically, then pushed himself right in, to the brim.
a chocked out moan left my lips, as chris started thrusting fast and hard inside me.
"oh chris- fuck."
"yeah? feels good? bet matt couldn't fuck you like i do."
i threw my head against the door while i clawed at his back, his jersey stopping me from leaving marks all over his back.
"ngh- so big, chris...please," i whimpered, trying to adjust to his size and rhythm. chris's lips attached to my neck, leaving kisses all around. as his mouth travelled down to my cleavage, he started to bite and nip at my skin, making sure that it would bruise.
"fuck-," he pulled out, quickly putting me down and bending me over the desk right by the door. whose room was that, again?
he pushed himself right in again, gripping my hips. he pounded into me so hard that the desk was banging against the wall with every thrust.
the room filled with the sound of our bodies slapping together, moans and groans as the music resonated faintly.
"such- a whore, fuck!" i felt him shudder; his hand flew quickly at the base of his cock, squeezing slightly to prevent himself from cumming yet.
"you're fuckin'mine, got that? mine."
one hand grabbed my asscheek, slapping it right after. and then again, and again, until i was left trembling and crying, overstimulated from the pleasure and pain that he was inflicting me.
his thrusts grew sloppy and unsteady as he approached his release. "chris, please, please, i wanna cum so bad" i sniffled, gripping the desk until my knuckles turned white to ground myself.
"no."
"please-"
"you can hold it. you're not cumming until i tell you to."
i bit my hand lightly, trying to focus on his orders. but it was just so hard, and he was fucking me just so good, hitting that sweet spot over and over again, that i knew i couldn't last for much longer.
a low guttural moan escaped from chris's lips as my walls clenched around him hard, pushing both of us even closer to our orgasms.
with a particular deep thrust, he tipped over the edge, spilling inside me, filling me with his hot cum. he groaned relieved as he thrusted slow and soft inside me, riding the waves of his climax.
i screamed, unable to contain my orgasm anymore, shaking as i came down from my high. i whimpered, laying down on the desk, the cool wood making me shiver all around.
"good job, ma," he whispered, stroking my back and kissing my shoulder. "such a good girl f'me, hm?"
his arms wrapped around my waist, helping me up. i leaned into him, grabbing his jersey for support.
"was i too rough?" i shook my head, leaning back to look at him in the eyes. a question bursted out, unable to stay put anymore.
"who was that girl?" chris looked taken back by the sudden question, but he had no problem answering. he shrugged, "i have no idea, i just wanted to work you up. you always give your best with angry sex."
i looked at him flabbergasted, ready to actually pick up a fight. "chris i swear-"
"shush mamas, let's get you something to actually cover up, hm? don't wanna go out there covered in marks and with no pants on, right?"
「 ★ ★ ★ 」
yk what i should fly to the USA just to experience Halloween the American way, that shit seems so much fun i swear.
hope you enjoyed it! happy, spooky Halloween everyone!
love y'all,
-bree🎃🦇
MASTERLIST
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syluslnd · 1 day ago
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Hii!
Could I request Sylus with a reader that’s too scared to love?
Like, she runs away from his advances and tries to escape every move he makes. Because she’s shy + she has scars from her past which make her believe she’s unlovable, and hasn’t recieved much love in her life anyway. How would he react?
Thank you so much for your time! I hope you have an amazing day💕
(Also I’m really sorry if you’ve already done this)
sylus isn’t a man who’d give up so easily
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The evening was quiet, with only the soft hum of the city outside Sylus’s office. You had been tasked with bringing him a few reports but as usual, being in his presence made you fumble. Every time he looked at you, you could feel your heart race and each lingering glance or playful comment from him only made you more nervous.
Sylus, however, seemed to find amusement in your shyness. Every time you turned away or stammered, he’d smirk, clearly aware of the effect he had on you. Over time, he’d started dropping little hints, subtle and not-so-subtle remarks that were hard to ignore.
A gentle touch on your shoulder, leaning close to whisper something unnecessary, calling you sweet names like “kitten” and “sweetie.” Yet, every time he got too close, you found yourself dodging out of reach, mumbling an excuse and leaving in a rush.
Tonight, however, he wasn’t letting it slide.
As you handed him the last report, you felt his gaze linger, his eyes scanning you with that familiar, intense look. Before you could even make up an excuse, he caught your wrist, pulling you gently but firmly against him until you could feel the heat radiating from his body.
“Going somewhere?” His voice was a low, teasing murmur, his hand still gripping your wrist. You tried to pull back but he stepped forward, effectively trapping you between him and the desk.
“Sylus, I… I should go” you stammered, cheeks flushed as you avoided his gaze, focusing on anything but his piercing red eyes.
But he tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Why do you keep running, kitten?” His voice was smooth, filled with a teasing edge but there was something genuine in his eyes, something intense. “You can’t keep pretending you don’t know what’s going on here.”
You swallowed, feeling your heart race, words slipping from you in a panicked rush. “I just… I don’t think I’m… lovable.” You bit your lip, looking away, feeling your insecurities bubble up. “I’ve been told that before. By someone else.”
His gaze softened for a moment, but then his smirk returned, and he leaned in closer. “Is that so?” His voice was gentle but his teasing tone remained. “You really think I’d put up with your running just for the fun of it?” He brushed his thumb over your cheek, his touch both reassuring and electrifying. “Your ex was an idiot, sweetheart.”
You looked down, still struggling to believe him. “But why me? Why not someone else?”
“Because you’re impossible to resist” he replied, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “And because no one else would have the nerve to run from me every chance they get.” He chuckled, leaning even closer, his breath warm against your ear. “But you’re not running this time, kitten. I won’t let you.”
There was something so final in his words, a promise wrapped in every teasing syllable. He brushed his lips across your temple, murmuring, “You’re mine, if you’d just stop running long enough to realize it.”
Your cheeks burned but for once, you stayed still, letting his warmth seep in, letting yourself believe.
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try-set-me-on-fire · 2 days ago
Text
They’ve got the little window over the sink open and Bobby keeps calling through it, asking for ingredients, utensils. Eddie clatters around the cabinet by the fridge.
“Third shelf,” Bobby says again, elbow on the sill. It doesn’t help any more than the first time he said it.
“I don’t even- Bobby, I don’t know what I’m looking for. Just- you can’t just use a normal spatula?”
“The flexibility and sharp edge of a fish spatula,” Bobby says, also for the second time, with a strained sort of patience, “Is perfect for sliding under-”
Buck’s arm reaches over Eddie’s shoulder and plucks a long slotted spatula from Bobby’s elaborate and baffling collection. “Got it.” He kisses the side of Eddie’s head as he keeps moving, lips catching the top of his ear. “It’s better for-”
“Pancakes, fritters, any sort of delicate patty, yeah, yeah, I heard.”
Bobby and Buck grin at him with identical raised eyebrows, it's kind of uncanny. “He’s not hopeless after all.”
“I do my best,” Buck says, smacking Eddie on the back and heading towards the door. “He’s come a long way.”
Eddie crosses his arms. “I don’t have to keep handing you shit. We’re not at work. I could make you walk inside every time.”
Bobby grins wider. “And I could give you all the burnt tater tots.”
Eddie pouts. “I’m reporting you to HR for unfair retaliation in response to labor concerns.”
“We’re not at work,” Bobby says, serenely. “Hand me the tenderizer.”
Eddie was sent in here, originally, like half an hour ago, to cut up the two giant watermelons Hen and Karen had brought direct from the farmers market, but he’d only got the knife halfway through the first one when the side quests started coming. He finally returns to the cutting board as Buck and Bobby’s voice drift further away, towards the grill. He cuts the thing in half and then stares at it so long he jumps a foot in the air when Maddie suddenly appears next to him.
“Woah,” she laughs. “What secrets of the universe does that watermelon hold?”
Eddie coughs out a chuckle. “I was just- debating the best shape to eat.”
She hums thoughtfully. “Big choice. Little cubes? Little cubes are nice. Or, like, slices?”
“I’ve always been a fan of a nice wedge.”
Maddie makes a triangle shape with her hands. “It is a classic.”
“Kind of makes your plate top heavy, though.”
“You’ve got two watermelons,” she points out.
“Wedges and cubes,” Eddie nods. “I like your way of thinking.”
She grabs a bowl from a different cupboard — why does everyone know this kitchen so well already? This is the new Grant-Nash residence house warming party, Eddie’s got lost on the way to the bathroom like three times since he got here — as he cubes the first melon. “How was the movie?”
“Hm?”
“Didn’t you and Buck go see Conclave earlier? The trailer looked interesting.”
“Oh, yeah.” Eddie scoops the cubes into the bowl and rinses his hands off before starting in on wedges.
Maddie laughs behind him. “… and how was it?”
“Oh! Uh- yeah, I mean- you know, horror movies, they’re fun.”
Maddie tilts her head. “Wait, wasn’t that one a drama?”
“Uh-”
“Wait.” She wrinkles her nose. “Were you just- were you making out with my brother literally the whole time?”
Eddie, hands up, gives her a bare teeth grimace of a smile as she cackles and whacks him with a towel. “Hey- I mean, I kind of looked up once, they were in some sort of- I don’t know, a theater or something? It was really dark in there? It looked kind of creepy.”
“Oh my god.”
“There’s a lot of Catholicism themed horror movies,” Eddie weakly tries to defend himself. “How was I supposed to know?”
“By watching it!” She laughs. “Why spend the $12?”
“My air conditioning is broken,” Eddie says sheepishly. “And it was 10 AM on a weekday, the only other person in there was 80 years old and snored through most of it.” He frowns. “Which also makes more sense if it wasn’t- I don’t know, I thought it was like The Conjuring?”
She laughs again, helpless giggles while she covers her face. Her daughter laughs the same way sometimes. “Don’t you have catholic guilt? Wasn’t that a thing?”
Eddie shrugs. “My abuela always says once I commit to something I never do it by half.”
“So, making out all through a movie about the pope?”
Eddie points at her. “Gay making out all through a movie about the pope.” He frowns again. “Damn, it was really about the pope? Okay I’m not- look, I’m not feeling guilty about that but, uh, if you ever talk to my grandmother or Pepa, uh-”
“I don’t think it would come up,” she says, patting his shoulder.
“They’re not- it’s- they wouldn’t like me making out with a girl during a pope movie, either, it’s not the gay thing.”
“I know, Eddie,” she says, more kind than teasing. “Everybody’s really happy for you,” kinder still.
“Oh.” His cheeks are probably bright red. “Uh. Thank you.” His ears burn as he busies himself with the watermelon again. “You know- I wouldn’t’ve got here, without Buck.”
Maddie comes close, presses their elbows together until he looks back up at her. “He deserves someone who doesn’t commit to things halfway.”
It makes Eddie laugh with soft edges, because: “I think… I’ve always been all the way, with him.”
She smiles so wide her nose crunches. “I know.”
There’s a tap at the window, and there he is, Buck himself. His nose is a little pink from the late October heat, he’s smiling real big. “Hi.”
“What do you want now?” Eddie’s tone is snappy but he’s sure his face is pure mush.
Buck sticks a thumb at Maddie. “Chim’s threatening to, and I quote, ‘eat five hundred tater tots,’” Buck pauses, presumably in service of Chim’s love of dramatic effect, then continues, “‘and then fall into a coma.’ So, like, if you wanna do something about that you might wanna get out there.”
“W-” Maddie starts to ask, and then shakes her head. She grabs the cube bowl. “At least he should have some fruit, too.” She flashes them a grin as she walks out the door, their laughter following.
When Eddie looks back at the window Buck has his chin in his hand, smiling at him. “What?” He laughs, ears hot again.
“Admiring the view,” Buck says, with the combination of flirtatious and earnest that Eddie has come to expect but is never prepared for. “Food’ll be up soon. Come and join us?”
Eddie leans forward over the sink. “Cap doesn’t need anything else?”
Buck shrugs, very close now. Eddie almost laughs wondering if he’s on his tiptoes in the dirt out there. ��He can get his own shit. I’ll eat your burnt potatoes.”
Eddie closes the last half inch of distance and does laugh, right into Buck’s mouth. “We can share,” he says, magnanimous, because Buck’s always been all in, too. He can go halfsies, it’s only fair.
There’s shouting outside, Buck pulls back, drums on the windowsill. Smile, wink, turn. Eddie grabs the wedges, and hurries out the door.
(Ao3)
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wonderjanga · 2 days ago
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When Billy was a Newbie
I like to think some of these scenarios happened when Billy was first starting out as a hero.
Villain: *monologging*
Marvel: *doesn’t even let them finish and socks the shit out of them and takes them to the police department*
This happens a good twenty times until one villain has enough.
Villain: *monologging*
Marvel: *about to attack while they’re talking*
Villain: “OKAY WAIT WAIT WAIT, STOP RIGHT THERE YOU BASTARD.”
Marvel: *stops, confused*
Villain: “I know you’re new to this whole thing, but you do realize you’re supposed to let us monologue and tell you our evil plan, right?! You’re not supposed to cut us off!”
Marvel: “I’m not?”
Villain: “No!”
Marvel: “Oh. I’m sorry about that, Mx. Supervillain. I’ll let you and the other ones talk next time.”
Villain: “Wait, really?”
After this, he actually does end up letting them talk and all that.
I also think something like this would happen when he was getting used to fighting crime.
Marvel: *throws one of the big blue mail boxes at some low level, human, emphasis on human, crooks* “Oh… my bad, guys! I was a little too harsh.”
Crooks: *severely injured* “What do you mean ‘your bad’?!?????? That was a little more than harsh!”
Then, there’s the fact I think he wouldn’t care about where he’s saving people. By that I mean, Billy has a lot of free time because he doesn’t go to school. Because of this, you’ll casually see Captain Marvel in flipping Milwaukee helping some people who got into a car crash, then in Orlando helping out with a fire, then in San Jose helping someone who lost their dog. Point is, if there’s someone to help out, he’ll help. Through this, he met Superman actually. Funnily enough, it was while holding up a building.
Marvel: *holding up a building*
Supes: *flies down* “You’re Captain Marvel, right?”
Marvel: “Huh? Uh yeah?” *looks over Superman, seeing his suit and thinking he’s another hero (Billy doesn’t know most heroes because this was when the time bubble recently popped)
Supes: “You need a hand with that?”
Marvel: “Yes, please.”
Supes and Marvel: *work together to move the building to somewhere safe so it won’t hurt anyone*
Marvel: “Thanks.”
Supes: “No problem.”
*awkward silence*
Supes: “If I can ask, what brought you to Metropolis?”
Marvel: “I’m here to fight crime…?” *says like it’s super obvious*
Supes: “Wha? Don’t you have your own city?”
Marvel: “I mean, I guess. Fawcett isn’t really my city though. I just protect it.”
Supes: *blanking and trying to come up with something to say* “Captain, you can’t just go around in other hero’s cities and fight crime for them. It’s a breach of territory.”
Marvel: “It is?”
Supes: “Yes, it is. Honestly, I’m just happy you didn’t do this in Gotham. Batman would’ve been furious.”
Marvel: “Oh. Okay then… so just stick to cities that don’t have heroes?”
Supes: “Well, I guess but don’t you normally-”
Marvel: *beaming smile* “I appreciate the advice, Mr. Superman.”
Supes: “Your…welcome? Wait, what do you mean ‘stick to the cities that don’t have heroes’?”
Marvel: “Oh, well, when crimes slow and nothing’s going on in Fawcett, I kind of just fly around everywhere looking for stuff to do. Just the other day I helped these two old, farmer people, husband and wife, lift their tractor out of some mud.”
Supes: *a little astounded he has that much time on his hands* “Really? Where was that?”
Marvel: “Kansas. I think the town they lived in was Smallville or something?”
Supes: *nearly shits himself* “Ah… I see.”
Then there was the time he met a random Green Lantern. He had no idea what the Lantern Corp were, but any information Solomon gave him made them sound cool though. But you want to know the worst part of this interaction? The Lantern was trying to give Marvel a ring.
Random GL (RGL): *talking about how he wanted to give Billy the ring and yadayadayada*
Marvel: *not even listening due to the Gods talking a whole lot*
Mercury: “BILLY STEAL THE RING!”
Marvel: *saying this out loud* “What? What ring?”
RGL: *confused, says something Billy isn’t paying attention to*
Mercury: “THE RING ON HIS FINGER. KEEP UP WITH THE PROGRAM.”
Marvel: *still talking out loud* “Oh okay okay… how do I do that?”
Solomon: “You are supposed to use your will.”
Marvel: “Huh? Solomon there’s no way that’ll wor…” *trails off as he wills the ring off the lantern’s finger* “I take back what I said.”
RGL: *starts to fall*
Marvel: “Holy moly!” *rushes down to catch him*
RGL: “Earthling what the hell is wrong with you?! Why would you do that??!?”
Marvel: “I’m sorry! The voices has told me to.” *gives them back their ring*
RGL: *flies off grumbling how he’s a psychopath*
Then there was when Marvel joined the Justice League. When he got the communicator, he put it in his pocket dimension and promptly forgot about it.
Marvel: “The Justice League hasn’t contacted me. I wonder if I’ve done something wrong…”
Meanwhile…
Batman: “This is like the third meeting he’s missed, Clark.”
Supes: “I know, I know! I’m sorry! He didn’t seem like the type to skip out on meetings. He talked like he had a bunch of free time.”
WW: “You should go talk to him. You are the one who invited him.”
Supes: *sighs* “I will.”
Back in Fawcett…
Marvel: *helping a cat down from a tree*
Supes: *flies down when he sees him* “Captain! Can we talk?”
Marvel: *hands cat back to its owner* “Mr. Superman. Of course! I’ve actually had something I’ve been meaning to talk about with you too.”
Supes: “Right, well I guess I’ll cut straight to the point. Is there a reason you haven’t shown up to the last meetings?”
Marvel: *stares at him with the most confused face* “Meetings?”
Supes: *confused at Billy’s confusion* “Yes? You get notified on your comm about them.”
Marvel: “Comm… Comm?” *thinking face before recognition flits across his face* “Wait, this thing?” *reaches hand into pocket dimension and pulls out his JL comm*
Supes: *slightly horrified when he saw his arm disappear for a moment* “Yeah. That.”
Marvel: *taps comm and sees over 45 unread notifications* “Oh.”
Supes: *wondering how in the world Marvel never checked his comm* “Oh indeed.”
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