#I love him so much I don’t know what to do about it.

[nereidprinc3ss]

weber's law

in which spencer reid comforts fem!reader when she's having a panic attack at the rossi mansion

fluff warnings/tags: panic attack lol, spencer is really cute and sweet my little perfect cutie pie angel baby, classic spencer info dumps bc they're pretty much his love language, established relationship, cheesy and sweet at the end a/n: this one is for my queens with panic disorders who are triggered by literally nothing and everything i see you have this ilysm

When Spencer had invited you to a small get-together at Rossi’s, you’d imagined a small get-together at Rossi’s. 

And maybe that makes you a complete idiot. 

Or maybe Spencer is just so used to FBI work functions that to him, this really is small.

But now you’re sitting on an expensive couch in a very nice house, and you’re surrounded by FBI agents who are all milling around and talking and laughing, and you’re worried maybe your outfit doesn’t look as nice on you as you’d thought it did, and you keep having very vivid visions of spilling your drink all over a furry throw rug that probably costs more than your rent does. 

Music that could reasonably be considered relaxing or at the very least not objectionable plays over the sound system throughout the whole house and thus is inescapable—not that you’d get up from the couch even if you could, because Spencer is sitting to your right and he has his hand on your thigh and it’s the only thing that has until this point been keeping you from a full blown panic attack.

Maybe that makes you a complete idiot, too.

Regardless, you try to focus on nothing but the weight of his hand as it travels slowly up and down from knee to hip over the jeans you’re not so sure about, and the feeling of your breath coming and going, as slow as you can possibly summon it without passing out. 

Spencer is laughing at something JJ is saying as she stands next to the couch with Will and you really like JJ but her voice seems so loud right now, and nothing is going particularly wrong but everything feels so, so wrong it’s scary. 

All the buzzing tension in your body telling you to run away because you’re unsafe and at the same time locking you into place builds until you have to express it somehow. So you revert to an old habit—bouncing your leg rapidly like a rabbit thumping its foot. It’s not entirely conscious, but it feels better than being completely still. That is, until Spencer’s hand strays inward and cups just above your inner knee, where he begins fanning his thumb back and forth over the fabric. 

“What’s this?” he murmurs, head angled toward you and voice low enough to not draw attention. You force yourself to plant your heel to the ground even though it worsens the feeling of gears crunching in your chest. 

“Nothing. Sorry.”

That gets his attention. 

Because of course it does. He’s always telling you to stop saying sorry so often. 

His tone solidifies, still quiet but committed to this conversation now and no longer the whispery apparition of a quick aside. 

“Why are you sorry?” 

“I don’t know, it wasn’t—it’s nothing.”

You barely avoid apologizing again. 

For a moment he doesn’t speak, just watches you—and you make the mistake of raising your gaze to meet his. He has that curious, analytical look about him, concern tightening his eyes and knitting his brow. He’s doing that annoying mind-reading thing again, and as soon as he actually sees your eyes, he’s figured you out. 

“Do you want to go outside for a minute? Get some air?”

After examining his face for any clues that he’d rather stay in here, (not that you’d really know what to look for), you nod hesitantly. Spencer mirrors your nod and stands, holding out his hand for you to take as you follow suit after setting your drink on a side table (without spilling.)

JJ is now wrapped up in conversation with another agent and the two of you manage to abscond without attracting unwanted attention, which makes you feel slightly better as Spencer leads you deftly through rooms with high-vaulted ceilings and big windows and heavy, expensive looking oak furniture. It seems like you’ve been wandering through a maze when you arrive to a quieter part of the house and he opens a french door for you—which leads out onto an empty patio. 

A cool breeze immediately sinks into your skin, and your nervous system is so hyper-alert that it gives you chills. Spencer notices the way you shiver and steps closer after closing the door behind him, his hand finding the small of your back immediately. 

“You okay?” he asks, intentionally avoiding impeding your view of the sweeping backyard and the trees beyond. Sometimes focusing on something stationary is less overwhelming, but they’re so tall they seem imposing. Threatening, even. 

But then again, everything feels threatening right now. 

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

Spencer seems unconvinced by your monotone—when you glance over at him he’s still watching you like you’re a puzzle to be solved. 

“Are you sure? You can tell me if you’re not.”

“Why are you so convinced something is wrong?” you laugh, but it comes out too manic. You cross your arms. He looks pointedly at the motion. 

“For starters, that. Often times crossing your arms is a subconscious way of comforting yourself when you feel defensive or threatened. And you could say it’s because you’re cold, but—” he pauses, reaching out to touch your cheek. “I can feel how hot your face is, and you shivered when we came outside even though it’s 71 degrees because your nervous system is overreacting to external stimuli. The leg-bouncing is also often indicative of an activated parasympathetic nervous system. Is me touching you okay?”

Again, you nod—unsure how to deflect when he calls you out so efficiently. 

Spencer’s hand slides down to just beneath your jaw, where he rests two fingers. Each second that passes has him looking progressively more worried. You wish you weren’t quite so catatonic—the fairy lights hanging from the pergola shine through his hair and make him glow so appealingly you want to kiss his cheek. 

“Your heart rate is really high, honey.”

That would be due to the sense of impending doom. Thanks for pointing it out.

But you’ve lost your words, and along with them has gone your sense of humor. All you can manage for a 30 second span is a meaningless shake of your head as you avert your eyes, staring at the sprawling carpet of blue-green grass soaked in night as each blade doubles with your tears. 

“I think I’m dying,” you finally croak.

“Technically, we all are. Very slowly.”

Ah. There’s that social tact he’s so well known for. 

“Spencer.”

“Right,” he kisses your cheek as you stare up at him, affronted, and pulls you into his chest. “Sorry. I was actually trying to be helpful. Changes in brain chemistry and hormonal activity associated with panic attacks change your perception of time and make things feel really fast which can contribute to feelings of anxiety. But in reality time is moving just the same as it always is. One second is always one second. Sometimes remembering that helps me to slow down. Not literally, of course. My gravitational pull isn’t great enough to have any discernible effect on the passage of time.”

You sniff, pressing your cheek to his tie. His words make your head spin, seeing as you hadn't been prepared for a lecture in psychophysics—but it spins in the opposite direction than it had been going previously. It's nice.

“Change your perception of time?”

“Weber’s law of perception. Stimulus sensitivity will increase proportionally with increased stimulus intensity. You’re only perceiving time to be going faster because your cortisol and adrenaline levels are making you hyper-vigilant and sensitive to all the markers of time passing.”

“Like what?”

Spencer hums, the bass of it a comforting resonance against your ear, and strokes your hair unhurriedly. 

“Like… your internal clock. Your body measures time with your heartbeat, so when your heart rate increases, time seems to go faster. Also environmental cues, which lead you to understand that the world is not stagnant and thus is not frozen in time. Like the sound of the wind chimes…” he pauses, long enough for you to realize that indeed, you can hear the gentle, sonorous ringing and tinkling of steel chimes bouncing against each other. “And the wind itself, which is coming all the way from the Gulf of Mexico. Some studies actually suggest that wind direction can affect your energy levels and mood.”

It’s a gentle breeze more than it is full-blown wind. It feels cool against your hot skin. 

Spencer’s hand on the back of your head, still rhythmically smoothing your hair, seems to slow down the passage of time as well. You focus on that, and the sound of the wind chimes and the breeze on your skin for a few minutes, until your breathing and your heart rate slow and soon you regain your footing in the temporal dimension, exactly sure of where you stand on Rossi’s patio and in your boyfriend’s arms. 

“You tricked me into doing a grounding exercise,” you mumble into Spencer’s jacket. 

“I did not trick you,” he defends, voice quiet to match yours. “I just wanted to make you feel better. Did it work?”

You pull away from him and he lets you, watching on as you sniffle and wipe your tears on your sleeves. 

“Yeah, it did. Thank you.”

For a moment, neither of you speak as you gather yourself. He leads you by the hand to a cushioned hanging bench at the end of the patio, taking a seat next to you and gently rocking the swing. 

“Do you know what triggered that?” Spencer asks, over the gentle creaking sound. You shrug, observing the dance of the fireflies in the grass. 

“Nothing. Sometimes I just feel like everything’s wrong and scary but I didn’t want to tell you and ruin your night.”

“Hey,” Spencer murmurs, pulling you into him with an arm around your shoulder. “You are not ruining my night. I don’t want you to worry about that.”

“But all your friends and coworkers are inside, and you’re out here with me.”

He angles his head down toward you and you look up to meet his eyes, even warmer than the sticky summer night. 

“I am. Do you know why?”

“Because I suck,” you sniffle, more hot tears rolling down your cheeks as you attempt to look away. But Spencer’s not having it. He encourages you to sit up again so you can look at him properly, before wiping tears away gently with his thumb. When he speaks, it’s in soft, soothing tones. 

“No. I’m out here because if all my friends were inside having fun, and you were outside having a panic attack, I would choose you every time.”

You manage a laugh through the crying. 

“I don’t know if that’s healthy.”

“Whether or not it’s healthy is an entirely different discussion,” Spencer smiles wryly, before it melts into something softer and more sincere. “All that matters is that it’s true.”

For a while after that, you simply lay your head on his shoulder. Spencer controls the speed of the swing with his much-longer legs, kissing your head and rubbing your arm as you admire the expanse of Rossi’s lush yard bathed in moonlight and the black silhouette of the forest beyond. 

Eventually, Spencer speaks again, likely to make sure you’re not spiraling alone in your head. 

“Can I tell you an extremely classified secret that I've been trying really hard to keep to myself for three days?” he asks, and the mischievous edge to his voice catches your attention. You hum in assent, already wondering what kind of information Spencer would have a hard time keeping to himself. It could be anything. 

“Anderson is sleeping with Childers from Operational Tech.”

“What?”

Despite not working for the FBI yourself, Spencer and Penelope have you so filled in on the drama that you know exactly why that’s shocking. 

You pick your head up to look at him like do not fuck with me right now. 

His eyes sparkle as he nods.

“Yep.”

“Didn’t you tell me Childers was dating that girl in sex crimes?”

Spencer raises his eyebrows. The corner of his mouth twitches. You gasp. 

“No! What? Does Anderson know?”

“I don’t know. I certainly didn’t want to be the one to tell him.”

“Wait—Anderson told you this?”

“Yeah!” He laughs incredulously at your complete disbelief. “People tell me things! I’m an excellent confidant!”

“If you’re relaying all of this information to me then you’re a terrible confidant,” you chuckle, still watery—but feeling light years better. 

Spencer brushes your hair away from your face fondly, leaning a fraction of an inch closer. 

“You don’t count. Telling you secrets is basically the same as keeping them to myself.”

“Basically,” you tease, angling your head up by a few degrees in invitation. Spencer says nothing, does nothing for a long moment—just studies you with soft eyes, continues stroking your cheek. When he takes too long to kiss you, you get impatient. “I’m still kinda anxious, you know.”

He smiles knowingly.  

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you nod, looking pointedly at his lips. “You should kiss me better.”

“I think that would take more than just one kiss,” he murmurs through a smile, leaning ever closer until your noses are bumping. “I think I would have to devote several hours to that. Maybe even a whole day.”

“How does tomorrow look for you?” 

He’s laughing as he finally presses his lips to yours. The kiss is sweet and lingering. 

“For you? It’s wide open.”

[luveline]

Jade can I please get a chatty af yapper sunshine girlfriend with Sirius?? Like May be someone tells her she talks a lot so she's super quiet around him cuz she's worried he'll get annoyed and break up with her but poor Sirius he misses his chatty girl and just angst with fluff

thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k

James Potter means well. Honestly, you don’t think he has a mean bone in his body, so you try not to take it to heart. 

Unfortunately, your attempts to do so don’t work. They really, unquestionably don’t. By the time you’re outside of Sirius’ flat that afternoon, James’ small comment is all you can think of. 

“You’re so chatty I’m surprised you don’t run out of breath,” he’d said. Not without love. You’d bumped into him in Sainsbury’s and ended up talking for ages about one thing or another, you know him well, you’d even say you were friends, though he’s of course Sirius’ friend rather than your own. “But I’m the same. God, Sirius used to hate how much I talked, he’d be sick of me. I think I numbed him to it over the years.” 

You can’t imagine it. Sirius and James are best friends. With Remus, they’re the most in love threesome of friends you’ve ever met, and it’s nice; it makes you very proud to have a boyfriend who cares for others as deeply as Sirius cares for them. It’s like a constant demonstration of how he’s a good man. 

But you’d never stopped to consider that they weren’t always so seamless, and you’ve regrettably never considered that your constant talking is something that could put him off. 

You talk to Sirius about everything. There isn’t a word to describe the excitement of having someone waiting to listen to you every single night. You could tell him every detail of a day down to what colour socks you wore and you know he’ll sit there listening with his hand on the small of your back, or his fingers twined between yours. You’ve never felt so loved as to be able to just talk about everything and have him talk back. 

But… what if, this whole time, he’s been wishing for a little bit of quiet? 

What if eventually, the talking becomes too much? 

He must be with you for a reason. You aren’t holding the poor guy hostage, he acts like he’s mad for you ninety percent of the time (while the other ten percent is spent sleeping on your shoulder). 

Like now —you knock his door and you can hear him scrambling up from the sofa, the sound of a book dislodged or a remote hitting the rug, you’re not sure. The door yanks open and Sirius smiles at you, pulling you in through the gap with a familiar hand on your hip. 

“Hey,” Sirius says, tucking you against his side, “hey, did you get lovelier over the weekend?” He shoves the door closed and gives you a hug with one arm, pausing in the hall. “Sorry I couldn’t see you. I don’t think we should miss another weekend.” 

You have a lot to tell him. It’s been ages since you spent nearly three days apart, but James’ conversation stays at the front of your mind. 

You decide to be less overwhelming, but not less loving, curling your arm behind his head to pull his cheek down for a kiss. “I don’t think so, either.” 

Sirius tilts his head away from you in an invitation for more kissing. 

You’re at home in his flat. You take off your shoes and hang up your jacket. You change into a pair of jogging bottoms with loose legs and let him hoist you onto his bed for a few stolen kisses, though he isn’t propositioning you, and you end up laying across his bedspread with one of your legs in his lap as he tells you about his days without you, his thumb sliding with pressure down your calf. 

“Mostly I wished I’d asked you to come over anyways, even if it was just to sleep together at the end of the day. Maybe next time we can do that?” he asks. 

“Of course we can.” You smile at him indulgently. “I’d come over for twenty minutes if it was all I could get.” 

“Or I can come to you,” he says, “even if it’s just twenty minutes.” 

He smiles, a beaming thing, and leans down slowly for a soft kiss. 

“So,” he asks, his breath on your lips, “how was your weekend? Lonely?” 

“So lonely,” you tease lightly, eyes fluttering closed as he continues his massaging of your leg. “But it was okay. I missed you, really, and didn’t do much else.”

“No?” he asks. 

Your voice takes on a shine as he squeezes your knee, “Missed your hands.”  

“I missed your everything.” He grabs for your forearms and pulls you into a sitting position. “But everything was okay?” he asks more seriously. 

“Everything was fine.” 

He raises his eyebrows, but eventually lets them relax. “Well, okay. Good, sweetheart, I’m glad it was okay.” 

He persuades you into the kitchen to sit with him as he makes dinner, refusing to let you help, and yet insisting you be there in the same room, as though you’d like to be anywhere else. Sirius makes your favourite of his usual rotation, offering you spoonfuls for tasting, gaps of silence stretching as he struggles to find new conversation. You start answering his questions but remember time and time again that Sirius could become totally sick of you. He might already be. 

Sirius puts the food on a low heat and washes his hands. He wipes them dry, but when he takes your face, dampness lines the inside of his fingers. 

“I’d like for you to tell me what’s wrong,” he says gently, stroking at the line of your startled frown, “before it gets worse. Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Nothing’s wrong.” 

“Please don’t, lovely. If I’ve done something wrong, please tell me. I want us to last forever, and we can’t do that if you won’t tell me when I upset you.” 

“It wasn’t you,” you say instinctively, then regret it. 

“So someone has?” he asks, still so gentle as his hands coast down your neck like he’s sculpting you, coming to rest on the slopes leading to your shoulders. “You can tell me anything. You don’t have to keep it to yourself… please.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Sweetheart.” He frowns deeply. Couldn’t look more upset. “Of course I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

You chew it over, not wanting or willing to cause ructions between Sirius and his oldest friend. “Well, I saw James today at the shop, and… we were talking about you…” 

He waits. “And?” 

“And he told me you– you don’t like talking. That you didn’t like talking, that James used to make you sick of it. So I know I talk too much and you’ve never made me feel like I shouldn’t, but I guess I got into my head thinking you’d get sick of me, too.” 

“When we were younger I didn’t like much of anything.” He curls an arm behind your neck to hold you in place, but it’s not a dominant sort of movement, only protective as your noses inch together. “Did you ever read that poem by Bukwoski? Let It Enfold You?” 

“What?” 

“I’m not very good at explaining myself. I thought if you knew the poem, you’d–” He laughs near your cheek. “I hated everything. It wasn’t James’ fault. He did make me sick of it sometimes, but I just wanted to hide from everything.” He breathes out slowly. “I’ve never wanted to hide from you. I can’t get sick of you. Do you get that? I can’t get sick of you. Listening to you is the best part of my day, you’re my personal chatterbox.” 

“Chatterbox,” you repeat teasingly. 

“You could talk for Wales,” he says. “And I love it, I don’t want you to stop, because I’ll never be sick of it.”

“I don’t want it to be some secret resentment.”

“I don’t resent you for anything. I knew exactly who you were when we met and I love it.” He takes your face again. “I love it,” he repeats. 

You steal a little kiss against the corner of his lips. “What was the poem?” you ask. 

“I’ll find my book, and you can read it to me. What do you think?” He takes a slow kiss as you had in the same place, words like honey. “I miss your voice.” 

He’s basically pleading. It’s not like Sirius to plead, but you pull it out of him. 

“Can I have my dinner first?” 

“The one I made while you deprived me?” he asks. “Yes, if you must.” 

He takes another kiss, but you’re happy to give it. 

[seumyo]

KENJI SATO ✰ 10:43

“Working overtime really doesn’t suit you, Sato.” The teasing sentence made Kenji grunt in disapproval, slumping against his couch.

“Wow, I didn’t notice. Thank you for that valuable input, [Name],” he says, rolling his eyes at you. 

He can’t help the sarcastic reply. Kenji’s schedule was all over the place. His life has been all over the place ever since his return to his home country, Japan. And now he not only has to take care of himself—which, in his defense, was fairly simple when he just had to worry about himself—he has to worry about an infant Kaiju!

What a wonderful (not) icing on the cake.

“Ken is really appreciative that you made time to fulfill his request, or, shall I say, cry for help, [Name].” Mina’s familiar voice flurried from a distance, closing in to your right in a breeze. 

“Hey! It was not a cry for help—it’s more like a... Asking a friend for a favor,” Kenji says, trying to ease his brain with what’s coming out of his mouth (like it was on autopilot, scrambling to defend himself and the pride he had left).

“Uh huh. And the favor is? I don’t really think there’s anything I could do to her containment unit or any repairs that’re needed in this place.”

“I just need someone to watch over her.”

(“I just need someone to talk to” is a much fitting phrase.)

“Doesn’t Mina already do that?”

“There’s only so much a supercomputer like me can do to entertain a living being, [Name].”

On cue, Emi croons at the video of you singing on stage. A part time career of yours, because when you’re not developing new tech that boosts the economy, you might as well indulge in your hobbies. 

Kenji wouldn’t admit it, but he has a vinyl or two—or even a whole collection of them—that he considers as priceless as his one-of-a-kind sports car displayed in the basement.

“Would you look at that? She likes your singing.” 

He watches as you take a step closer to Emi, observing how she delightedly squealed at the soft melody being played on the holograms. This 20-foot-tall baby Kaiju reminded you of the time you took care of children at the daycare center.

“I just...” he sighs. You didn’t even notice that Kenji was already beside you, offering you a canned drink. 

“How do you do it? Juggle everything?” He murmurs. “You’re the busiest person I know. Working on your thesis, performing at various concerts, taking on charity work, and whatnot. Hell, if you could run for president, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you in the elections, too.”

A quiet laugh was returned. “It’s not easy, that’s for sure. But within time, you’ll learn just what you need and what you can handle.”

“Mm. Don’t you ever just want to run away from all the responsibilities people place on your shoulders? I can barely take care of this young lady,” he chuckles, though it doesn’t hold even the slightest ounce of humor to it.

“I wish, but then I’ll remember the kids who're so happy to see me whenever I drop by,” you say. “They may be a handful at times, but you’ll be surprised to know just how smart and caring they are. How they take in their surroundings and attempt to figure out who they are. We’re all what they have. The least we could do is give them our time and love all the same.”

Kenji lets your words sink in. Simple and touching. The kind that gets the gears in his head to start twisting.

“You really are a charm with your words; did you know that?”  

“Thanks; I try my best.”

The night continues with Kenji and Emi playing baseball on a simulated field with you by the shed, cheering on from a safe distance. Kenji doesn’t remember the last time he’s been this genuinely happy after his return to Japan. It’s a refreshing feeling that he wants to get used to again. To see the baby Kaiju successfully hit the ball with a swift swing after watching after him is a sight that tugs at one’s heartstrings.

Just like a proud father.

“Come on, girl! We gotta run the bases!”

And as the two celebrate their moment of triumph, the baby Kaiju stomps toward you and giggles happily as she hoists you in the air without much warning. You took it all in you not to shriek and absolutely lose all composure, but when you’re up in the air and are being held to a bear hug like some sort of teddy bear by a Kaiju that could probably crush your bones if not careful, it’s hard to not just scream for your life.

“Oh, ok—ok. Baby, put me down gently, please,” you chuckle nervously. 

“It appears that the little one sees you as her other mother,” Mina adds.

Kenji laughs at the sight, pulling out his phone to take a picture. This is definitely a memory he’d want to remember.

“This is not funny, Kenji. Tell her to put me down.”

“Aw, is Baby not listening to her Mommy?”

“Again, not funny. This is like an out-of-the-blue co-parenting a child with you. With you being my annoying ex-husband.”

“Specific, eh?”

“Shut!”

When you’re just about to leave for the night, Kenji suggests that you sleep over. There’s a lot of spare bedrooms in their manor, he reasons. He also doesn’t understand what came over him to offer, but he doesn’t take it back.

But it could be because he’s missed you. And he’s somewhat afraid that this may be the last time you see each other in a while due to your clashing schedules.

“You’re such a girl dad, Kenji,” you tease.

“Haha, good one,” he says, rolling his eyes at you. He took a couple of blankets from the closet and placed them on the bed.

“Just saying.”

“Whatever you say, Mommy.”

“Oh hush, Daddy.”

That ringed out a laugh from him. “Bleh, that sounds so embarrassing coming from you.”

You shrugged. “Hm? Don’t you think you’re embarrassing too?”

“I’m not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are too. I will not be going back and forth like this with you anymore, Kenji Sato. Good night!”

Kenji can’t hide the smile that appears on his face. Yeah, he definitely missed this. 

Definitely missed you.

SEUMYO © 2024. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[moonstruckme]

absolutely live for ur roommate!james could you maybe write one on him meeting some of readers friends for the first time or calling james to pick u up after a girls night 😇would love to see him finally feel “included” in our life like we are in his

Thank you for requesting lovely!

cw: alcohol

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │part 12

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1k words

James is so absorbed in the football match on his phone that when there’s a tap on the window next to his face, he jolts halfway across the center console and squeaks like he’s twelve years old again. 

You’re beaming outside the car. Your shoulders shake with quiet, un-self-conscious laughter, so it’s impossible for James to be any kind of upset. Still, he makes a show of huffing a little as his own smile spreads. He reaches over and opens his door. 

“Sorry,” you say. You don’t look it, so he lets you off the hook for your over-apologizing. 

“Who do you think would drive you home if I had a heart attack?” James asks. He’s somewhat breathless, either because of the scare or the easier-than-usual grin still fixed on your face. 

You lean against the side of his car and roll your eyes. “Oh, your heart’s too healthy to be in danger of attacks.” 

“What are you doing on this side of the car? You’re the passenger, you know.”

“Okay, listen.” You give him a very intentional look. It’s more eye contact than he’s used to from you, and it makes his guts go all twisty in a surprisingly nice way. “It’s completely up to you, of course, but I think I’m about to make you an offer you can’t refuse.” 

It clicks into place. “You’re drunk.” 

“Not very.” Your grin is a short fall from impish. Your eyes sparkle. God help him. “But you’re about to be.” 

James feels his eyebrows float up. “How do you figure?” 

“Because I’ve come to collect you. If you want.” 

“To collect me…where?”

“Inside,” you say, as though this should be obvious. You tip your head towards the restaurant. “We’ve just closed, and we have so much wine. Pleasepleaseplease, James, come in.” 

“Okay.” He’s letting you tug him from his car before he knows what he’s agreed to, only that one please will always be enough to get whatever you want from him. “Alright, love, but doesn’t your manager mind that you’re drinking their wine?” 

You let loose a bark of laughter, loud and sharp and totally unlike you. “Tom? Yeah, right.” 

Tom, James learns quickly upon entering the rowdy atmosphere of your workplace after hours, is younger than the both of you, hardly old enough to serve alcohol and yet managing the restaurant. And the wine isn’t stolen, necessarily, but the fortunate leavings of a wealthy customer who bought more bottles than his table could handle and then left nearly all of them. 

Everyone who’d been on the night shift is strewn about the empty restaurant. Servers and busboys and dishwashers all perched on stools, standing behind the bar, sitting criss-cross-applesauce on tables. You take James by the hand, first reclaiming the bottle of wine you’d evidently stored behind the host’s station and then leading him around the room to introduce him to various coworkers. His hand feels warm and tingly. You have an easy repartee and a million in-jokes with the servers, but even the kitchen staff seems to adore you. As they rightly should, James thinks. It’s obvious you’re as kind and considerate here as you are at home, and he feels a bit silly for not having been able to picture you in this place so clearly before now. 

Art is working with you again tonight. It’s embarrassing, the warm wave of relief that James feels when he notices you don’t pay him any extra attention. He makes a mental note to extend his offer of a ride home more often. Every time your hand starts to slip from James’, you readjust your grip before he can even think of doing it himself. Suits him just fine; ever since your mugging incident, suddenly James is in this weird place where he always wants a hand on you.

You say his name, and then the lip of a bottle is being pushed against his lips. 

“You haven’t had hardly any.” You look like you’re trying to pout, but your eyes are smiling. 

James takes the bottle from you. He looks you in the eyes as he takes a sip as if to say, Happy? It’s barely enough to warm his throat. “I am still driving us home, you know.”  

The pout is getting better. “I know, but I’m trying to be fun for you. You don’t have to drive us if you don’t want to! You’re always the one doing the nice things.” 

“Oh, don’t.” His tone is fonder than he means for it to be, but luckily you’re too tipsy to mind. “You’re plenty fun. You do nice things for me all the time.” 

“Yeah, but not enough to balance out.” You make your eyes big and pitiful. James feels fortunate this isn’t a skill you seem inclined to utilize sober. “Obviously you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but—Jamie, don’t hold back because of me, please.” 

His stomach does an impressive flip. He doesn’t think you realize you’ve called him that, doubts you’d have done it under normal circumstances, but his nervous system cares not for rationalizations. He wants desperately to hear you say it again. 

You beam as James lifts the bottle to his lips again, taking a few hearty gulps. You both end up walking home that night, but you wake even before James to go retrieve his car in the morning.

[sinofwriting]

Cover It All Up - Charles Leclerc

Words: 2,214 Summary: As she starts to get ready to meet her boyfriend's mom, she can’t help but be nervous considering that last time she met a boyfriend’s family he dumped her all because his parents didn’t approve of her.

Masterlist | Emergency Dental Fund

After the disaster of Lando Norris, she had told herself no more British men and no more F1 drivers. She had at least stuck to one thing.

Charles was different from Lando. The only thing they really seemed to have in common was that they both were F1 drivers and competitive people. But where Lando would get stroppy when she beat him in paddle or during their one bowling date, Charles would laugh, grinning at her as he kissed her in celebration, telling her how easy she made it look, despite that sometimes not being the case at all.

It wasn’t that Lando had been a bad boyfriend, he had been nice, just not for her. Or rather she wasn’t for him.

She thinks about it as she stares at herself in the mirror, regretting the sleeveless top she bought to meet Charles’ mom. It was pretty, the color complementing her perfectly, there was just one problem. The lack of sleeves. Meaning her tattoos were showing.

She had lost count how many she had after getting her first one when she was eighteen and then getting three more within that same month. She had some on her thighs as well, a tattoo on the back of her shoulder and a small one on her ankle.

She loves her tattoos, there isn’t a single one she regrets but as she looks at them now, she does. The shame and embarrassment from meeting Lando’s parents still has a spot in her mind.

They barely had spoken to her during the dinner, their eyes lingering on her tattoos, the multiple piercings in her ears. Her words had seemed to fall on deaf ears, her compliments, and questions. She hadn’t been surprised when a day later Lando told her that they didn’t approve of her. It made her laugh. Lando’s parents not approving of her because she had tattoos and a few piercings in her ears. She had been surprised when he broke up with her in practically the same breath.

“It’s just a lot, isn’t it?” He gestured at her. Blood had rushed to her cheeks. “What do you mean?” “Well,” He chewed on his lip for a second. “The tattoos, the piercings.” He shrugged. “It’s just a lot, a lot to see, to deal with.” That had made the blood rush more, knowing he was referring to when she got her last tattoo. “And besides.” He continued. “I can’t really be with someone that my parents don’t approve of. It would never work.”

The memory has her eyes stinging, she had never felt so small or embarrassed before. Taking her top off, she puts it back on its hanger, placing it back in the closet before looking at its contents. There wasn’t much. Charles had tried to get her to bring more stuff to his, but she had figured one suitcase was more than enough. It filled the two drawers he gave her, she ignored the existence that those two drawers belonged to a dresser that was hers, and her clothes that had to be hung up fit perfectly in the section he gave her. She also ignored that they didn’t fit perfectly, tons of free space around them.

As she looked at what she brought with her, she sighs. So much of her wardrobe was short sleeves, tank tops, and sleeveless things, all to show off her tattoos and here at Charles’ she only had one top that had full length sleeves.

It was cute, it just wasn’t the top she wanted to wear, she had imagined wearing when meeting Charles’ mom, but it would have to be the one. Pulling it off the hanger, she quickly pulls it on, just barely resisting the urge to make a face as she looks in the mirror. She forces her eyes away from the mirror as she begins to take her piercings out, including her fake septum one.

As she takes her helix out on her left, she sees Charles behind her.

“You’re putting different ones in?” She makes a humming sound. He smiles, wrapping his arms around her from behind. “Can I pick again?” She can’t help but smile at the question, leaning back into him for a second. “You can pick something for my lobes. I’ll be wearing this top.” He frowns as he looks at her tray of jewelry. “I thought you wanted to wear the one you bought yesterday.” “It didn’t look nice on me.” “Well, that can’t be true.” He lightly scoffs, before holding up a pair for her approval. She shakes her head at the opal earrings, but opens her hand for him to place them in. “Next thing I know, you’ll be giving me earrings with your number.” He flushes at the comment, looking away from her. “Charles!” He grins at her laughter, wrapping himself around her again, watching as she puts the earrings in. “You look beautiful with my number on you, mon amour. I can’t help but want to see you in it all the time.”

“Can I not pick another one?” He asks after a moment of her fiddling with her earrings, the backs of them always giving her a little more trouble. “Like uh,” he taps a spot on her ear, trying to remember it. “Your conch.” She shakes her head, turning in his arms. “I’m not wearing any others today. You can pick all of them tomorrow.” His eyebrows raise, “Including this one?” His hand goes between their bodies to gently press at her navel. “Including that one.” She kisses his cheek. “Now, are you ready to go?” He nods, eyes darting around her face, drinking her in before he frowns. “Amour, you aren’t wearing any other piercings?” She shakes her head, stepping back. “I’m not wearing any others today.” “I thought you just meant your ears, I didn’t think you meant your fake ones.” His frown deepens. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen her go anywhere and only wear one visible piercing. “Is everything okay?” “Yeah.” She tells him. “Just not feeling today.” He looks at her, something not feeling right, but he nods. “Okay.” He kisses her forehead. “Let’s go then.”

As they walk to his mother’s, he can’t help but look at her. Not just because it’s hard for him to not look at her, which it is, because something is wrong. He’s never seen her cover up her tattoos when it hasn’t been cold out and he’s never seen her with so few piercings. It just isn’t her. It’s not who she is.

Her grip on his hand is also a little tight and he can see her fingers on her other hand constantly rubbing at her palm. She’s nervous, he realizes, feeling a bit stupid. He had thought that he had calmed the worst of them, but now as they grow closer, he fears he hasn’t.

Maybe he hadn’t told her enough how excited his mom was to meet her, to see her. She had so many questions about her tattoos and her piercings, where she got the fake ones, and so many other things it made Charles' head spin. He had never seen her so excited to meet one of his girlfriends before.

“She’s going to love you.” Charles tells her as they reach the front door, pressing a small kiss to her cheek. “Promise.” She smiles at him, her nerves bleeding through. “Okay.” He presses another kiss to her cheek before opening the door.

“Maman!” He calls, stepping inside. He wants to go further in the house but knows better than to leave the entryway with his shoes on. Bending, her hand still in his, he loosens the laces of his shoes with his free hand before getting them off. Staying bent over, he loosens the laces on hers as well, smiling at the large sigh she gives.

Standing straight he nearly jumps at the sight of his mom watching the two of them, a fond smile on her face. “Maman!” He greets, giving a squeeze to her hand before letting it go to hug his mom.

Wrapping his arms around her, he expects for her to murmur how much she’s missed him, fuss about his hair, press a kiss to his cheek, while she hugs him back, but all she does is give him a quick squeeze before moving out of his arms and past him. He looks at her wounded, but she doesn’t notice, enveloping his girlfriend in a hug, whose eyes widen before she returns it.

“Oh, you look beautiful, Y/N. I was so happy when Charles told me you’d be coming today.” “Oh, thank you, Mrs. Leclerc.” “Pascale, please.” She says, finally pulling away. “Have you eaten? What would you like to drink? Come sit.”

Charles watches, mouth slightly dropped as his mother ushers her into the kitchen, completely ignoring him. She always asked him that, and told him to sit, no matter that he had grown up here. He was one of her babies, she always said, before gently pinching his cheek.

“Water is more than fine, Mrs. Leclerc.” He hears her laugh as he enters the kitchen and sees them sitting at the table. “Please, call me Pascale.” She smiles at his mom and he can feel the love he has for her grow more as she reaches for his mom’s hand, taking it in hers for a second. “Pascale.” She says, “Water is more than fine. And I have something for you.” “Oh, there is no need for that.” Charles watches, surprised as he sees her reach into her purse and pull out a jewelry box. He had no idea that she had brought something for his mom. “Charles mentioned that it can be hard to find nice topaz and opal jewelry.” She says, voice quiet and Pascale opens the box. “It’s beautiful.” She breathes, carefully taking it out of the box.

His eyes widen as he sees the necklace in his mom’s hand. It was stunning. The topaz perfectly framed with opal. He had never seen anything like it.

“Mon amour,” the words are breathless as he shakes his head. “How did you?” She ducks her head, “I wanted to give something to you,” she looks at Pascale. “That represents all of your kids. It was hard to find, but I’m happy I did.” Pascale places a hand over her heart, tears stinging her eyes and she puts the necklace gently on the table before wrapping her arms around the girl. “Thank you, ange. Thank you so much.” Charles watches as she melts into the hug, her nerves finally seeming to leave her and the sight of the two most important women in his life embracing makes him breathe easier, his own nerves disappearing.

“Now,” Pascale starts, pulling away. “Charles is going to pour us some wine.” “Maman,” he tries protesting, but she continues ignoring him and he huffs before letting his feet lead him to where the wine glasses are. “And you are going to tell me all about your tattoos.” “Oh.” She looks shocked and Charles brows can’t help but furrow. “You of course don’t have to.” Pascale rushes to say. “I just have seen so many pictures of them, from Charles and your Instagram, and would love to see them and hear about them. Your piercings as well. I had no idea you could get such good fake piercings.” “No, I-I would love to tell you about them.” Her eyes glance over to Charles, who is concentrating on pouring wine. “I was just a bit nervous meeting you with all of those things. I didn’t know you had an interest.” Pascale looks at her in confusion. “Since Charles showed me your photos, I have wanted to meet you. You are such a gorgeous girl and you make him so happy. And I love your tattoos. Did Charles never say?” She shakes her head. “No.”

“Charles!” He stops, eyes wide, just about to set the glasses of wine on the table. “What?” “You never told her that I love her tattoos? Charles!” “I thought I had.” He defends, putting a glass in front of both of them before sitting in the chair next to his girlfriend, his arm immediately coming up to rest on the back of her chair as he presses a quick kiss to her cheek. “I’m sorry, mon amour.” “It’s okay.” She tells him, with a small laugh. She turns her head to look back at Pascale. “Really even if he had told me, I might have not believed him.” She pauses, taking a sip of a wine. “The last time I met someone’s parents, they didn’t care for my tattoos and piercings. He broke up with me over it.” The older woman scoffs, shaking her head. “Their loss and our gain. They are lovely from what I’ve seen.” “Would you like to know about my favorite one?” “Yes!”

Charles watches fondly as she pushes up her left sleeve, exposing a myriad of tattoos before pointing at the one just above her wrist on the inside, telling his mom all about it. It’s a story he’s heard before, more than once, but just like his mom he can’t help but listen intently as well.

[entertaining-two]

Upon yet another re watch, episode one really is wild because I feel like we all forgot how much of a little romantic dork Colin was for the first two seasons. Like this man was still the younger brother of his two older brothers, he was seen as immature, kiddish, and too young to really be a man.

His whole journey season 1 is setting up how he wants a romantic connection but is deceived for his naivety in this situation despite warning.

His journey season 2 is to try and become a man, having traveled, trying to gain purpose and prospects through investing and being a protector to the feathering tons he feels noble. Yet he still wonders what the point of it all is: ie, he’s missing the heart of his purpose which is to love someone undyingly.

Season 3 everyone is so shocked when he shows up, looking older, looking and acting confidence and suave and flirtatious something he NEVER was before. They are shocked and also not mocking him for his travels and he knows now not to even divulge his passion for it because he knows while his family loves him, they do not truly care for the inner workings of his mind. Leaving him still missing something. That something is a true partner.

I just feel like we all really truly forgot how Colin was never the one to be smooth, the one to know the exact thing to say and when, or even the confident hot one. The man spent hours talking about plants he saw traveling to his ex’s husband for gods sake like this man is not suave he is dorky and adorable. He had always been dorky younger brother of the two catches in the Bridgerton house. Forgotten amongst the diamond of the season, the viscount, and the flirtatious artist. Who was he? He had no clue.

He wandered and came back a new person hoping people would now accept him and clearly he feels it has worked because everyone praises him for it! So when his facade starts to crumble around Pen, and when she throws back at him that he has put on this mask of a person, and tells him she just wants the true man she loves, for once Colin is feeling seen for who he actually is. I think that is why he kisses her so aggressively after the “I love you!” Statement by the modiste. He’s seen, and loved. Now he just had to figure out how to accept the lady Whistledown stuff.

All I’m saying is people don’t get Colin and I will die on the hill that he deserves more praise. He’s far more complex than people give credit and I love his character.

[peachdues]

GASOLINE ON FIRE

COMPASS ONE-SHOT • bad boy!Sanemi x Reader

A/N: a one-shot from my bad boy!Sanemi gang AU fic, Compass featuring Sanemi and Reader’s first kiss. It technically happened off-page in the first Chapter, so I thought I’d share it with you all now because I’m such a sap for these two.

CW: 1.7k • MDNI • mentions of explicit sexual content • mentions of masturbation • Sanemi’s been thinking about Reader in fun ways • first kiss • fluff/light angst

READ COMPASS HERE

You’re both seated on your floor, pizza box sitting in front of you, half-empty, alongside a couple of empty, discarded beer bottles.

“I’ve never had sex,” you blurt, prompting Sanemi to choke on his gulp of beer.

“What?”

You pause in bringing your own bottle to your lips to glare at him. “You don’t have to be rude about it.”

“I’m not,” Sanemi wipes his lips. “Who gives a shit about that — I mean, where did that come from?”

You take a long, pointed sip of your beer before setting it back down, drawing your knees up to your chest. “I don’t know,” you shrug. “Isn’t it weird that I haven’t? We’re both twenty-one — but I’ve never even had a serious relationship, much less had sex.”

That surprises him. He’d thought about your days in school more than he’d be willing to admit ever since he chose your bookstore to hide in all those months ago. He’s devoted countless hours to wracking his brain, trying to recall every minute detail about you, in a concerted effort to figure out why the fuck he didn’t approach you sooner.

But he’d found that he couldn’t quite recall, and maybe that’s because he never had an excuse.

Still, you seem like you should have had at least the opportunity for love. After all, Sanemi can’t imagine someone worthier of it.

You’re staring at him, now, expectant, and Sanemi distracts himself by reaching for his own beer bottle to inspect it. “’S not weird,” he says after a moment. “You’re young. You’ve barely been out in the world.”

“But you‘ve done it,” you push, taking another swig of your drink.

Sanemi nods with a chuckle, setting his now-empty bottle down. “Yeah, yeah I have.”

You refuse to meet his eyes as you mumble, “And you like doing it.”

“Is that what the rumors say?” He asks drily, concealing his faint grimace by reaching for another beer.

“I don’t care about the rumors. I’m trying to make a point, here,” you scowl, finally lifting your gaze back to him. “I want to do it. I don’t want to be a virgin anymore.”

He glances at you from the corner of his eye. “Noted.”

“I want you to fix it.”

His hand halts midair before it can reach the last unopened bottle, and he turns to stare dumbly at you.

You must be joking — or you’re drunk. In either event, there’s no fucking way you’re serious.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it — extensively, for that matter. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want it just as badly as you seem to — arguably, even more so, given that he can’t stop thinking about it.

He wouldn’t be caught dead admitting that he thinks of you that way often — so much so that he hasn’t been able to get laid in at least two months, because he couldn’t stop picturing you when he was with his designated fling of the evening.

Hell, he’d only been able to get off that last time because he stopped fighting the images in his head. Ones that involved that flirty sundress you loved wearing pulled down to expose your breasts, bouncing as you rode him, or the blush on your cheeks he imagined would form when he settled between your thighs, mouth lowering to steal a taste of what he could only assume was paradise.

Since then, the only thing Sanemi has been fucking is his own hand. And damn, if those little images of you didn’t keep sneaking into his subconscious. And though he always managed to cum fast and hard whenever those fantasies bled into his mind, Sanemi also was left to feel nothing but shame afterward as he wiped his hand and abdomen clean, guilt hanging heavily over his head for thinking of you in such a way.

For daring to think you might want him at all.

But now, here you were, looking at him with all the hopeful expectancy in the world. As though he has anything worth offering you.

Sure, Sanemi knew you were likely asking him to do it for practicality’s sake. You were a virgin and you wanted not to be anymore. And he was there, your only friend, and he was someone known for being rather unrestrained when it came to matters of the bedroom (or, anywhere that offered semi-privacy, for that matter).

He was a convenience; nothing more.

Did that stop him from considering it? Of course not. He was yours to use as much as you wanted, as far as he was concerned. But he’d assumed his usefulness stopped at being an ear to listen to; a companion — not because of anything you did, but because Sanemi had never felt like he held much value outside of what he could do for others.

And really, being used for this purpose — by you, no less — wasn’t too bad of an idea, all things considered.

But he can’t; he won’t. Part of him wants you to save that piece of yourself for someone who deserves it; deserves you. And that sure as shit isn’t him.

Part of him is also acutely aware that you’re tipsy and thus, the boundaries of your consent are blurry, and Sanemi would rather eat and shit glass than dilute them further.

But another part of him hesitates because he knows that if he does give in — gives you what you both want — that he’ll only further distort what remains of the lines he’s drawn in the sand. Lines, he sternly reminds himself, that are not just his means of protecting you, but rules that he is bound to obey as an extension of the Corps.

Don’t get attached.

And yet, he can’t help but wonder; can’t stop his traitorous heart from swelling, or his mind from running with the faint possibility of what life might be like if he just said yes.

What would it be like to be close to you? To hold you, kiss you, whisper sweet nothings in your ear he’d never told anyone else, but had secretly always longed to share? Would you moan or sigh his name? And if he was graced with the chance to see you fall apart — how would you look? Would you cry out, or would your mouth fall open in a silent o, your pleasure so intense that it stole the very breath from your lungs?

Never mind wanting and being wanted in return — what would it be like to have?

You rest your chin on your arms, eyes fixed on him, waiting, and Sanemi feels himself nearly break right there.

It’s nearly impossible to turn you down in a way that won’t hurt your feelings, but he has to. He has no choice.

He never has.

“Sorry, Princess. Don’t think that’s the best idea.” He reaches over to flick your nose before adding, “Plus, you’re a bit too tipsy.”

He hopes that his disappointment isn’t too evident on his face as he watches you; hopes that you cannot see the way his heart cracks under his own self restraint.

Thankfully, you drop your head onto your arms with a groan, concealing your face in your alcohol-tinged shame.

To his dismay, your obvious letdown punches at that soft part of his heart he’s reserved for you. His mouth goes dry. The idea blooms in his head and he’s acting before he can stop himself.

Just a taste. He swears. Just a taste. A little indulgence, so you know his reticence has nothing to do with you and everything to do with the fact that he isn’t worth it.

“Hey.”

You roll your head to the side to peer shyly at him, a pretty blush still staining your cheeks.

“Come here.”

You lift your head from your arms then, cocking it in a question that Sanemi decides to answer by crooking his fingers under your chin and leaning in.

The kiss he shares with you is soft; measured. Your lips feel like silk against his, and it strikes him that never before has he kissed anyone with so much tenderness. The few kisses he exchanged with his flavors of the night were always sharp, bruising clashes of lips and teeth, each party more focused on sating their own needs rather than tending to that of the other.

Then again, Sanemi never felt this way toward those serving as his temporary distractions. He never thought of them as something precious; something to be adored, the way he does you.

You don’t move your arms from where they’re folded atop your knees, and for that, Sanemi is grateful. He knows that were you to move your hands to cup his face or even tangle in his hair, he would lose whatever thread of self control he possessed when it came to you.

So, Sanemi continues to kiss you slowly; indulgently. He never lets himself deepen it, never lets his tongue flick out along the seam of your lips in an effort to part them. He simply moves his lips with yours for a moment longer before he finally pulls away, though his fingers linger under your chin.

Only centimeters separate your mouth from his, and Sanemi can feel the sweet warmth of your breath as he whispers, “We should pick out a movie.”

You nod after a moment, still too stooped in the haze of his closeness to you. Reluctantly, Sanemi shifts away, his hand dropping from your chin. You don’t see how he flexes it over and over when you turn away to fidget with your remote, Sanemi unable to shake off the memory of your skin under his fingertips.

He watches the movie without really seeing it; his mind is far too preoccupied with replaying your kiss, over and over on a constant, never-ending loop.

He’d hoped that the small kiss would smother some of the fire that has been steadily consuming him over the last few months. A temporary respite to the near constant pang of longing he felt in his chest every time he looked at you.

What a stupid fucking idea that had been.

Because, as Sanemi sits beside you, limbs rigid under the incessant buzz thrumming in his veins, urging him to reach over and lay you back against the rug and make you his, he realizes your kiss was only a gallon of gasoline dumped directly over his fire.

And, judging by the way you keep your eyes fixed resolutely on the screen before you despite the persistent heat in your cheeks, Sanemi thinks you might be just as hungry for him as he is for you.

Oh, he’s fucked.

likes/reblogs/comments always appreciated!

[fruittt-punchhh]

Pop My Cherry!

this is pt. 7! read the rest of the parts here.

Synopsis: your dad's best friend is none other than Toji Fushiguro, and you can't help but wonder what he could do with his hands.

Characters: Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader. Shiu mentioned, not a major character.

Content: Minors Do Not Interact! smut, afab! reader, fem! reader, dad's best friend! Toji, suggestiveness, cursing, inexperienced (ish) reader, reader is a virgin but has done things ya know, female masturbation, male masturbation, mutual masturbation, pet/ affectionate names, age gap (reader is 24, Toji is in his 30s), Toji calls reader (doll, slut, bitch, etc.), big dick! Toji, cunnilingus (f! receiving), jealousy, domestic! Toji lowkey, breeding, rough sex ya’ know

Word Count: 9.7k-ish

Trigger Warning: emetophobia. mentions of getting sick, reader doesn’t actually get sick but yeah. I will be putting a break in the text so you can scroll through if you don’t wanna read it🫶

Notes: ladies, gentlemen, both, neither, and all the others, ITS TIMMMMEEEE!!🗣️❌✋the moment you and I have all been waiting for. please please please (Sabrina?) enjoy, and as always, ignore any spelling/grammar errors, I proofread but I’m usually high while doing that so ya’know. lemme know what you think!! love always, fruit punch ❤️‍🔥🧃

You stretch out your hands to find a cold, empty bed beside you. You were definitely wasted last night, but not so much so that you don’t remember falling asleep in Toji’s arms. You turn around to find your phone, confused by the layout of Toji’s bedroom. There was no table on your side, so you huff while you sit up. Your head is spinning and you needed some Tylenol and water ASAP.

(TW: mentions of being sick, skip ahead if you don’t wanna read!)

Oh shit. Your mouth just started watering. You didn’t drink much, but were you really about to get sick? Your heart is pounding in your ears and you were sweating onto the sheets below you. You think you remember where the bathroom is, jumping to your feet before you get sick in the bed.

You covered your mouth with your hands as you burst through the bathroom door. You grab onto the side of the toilet bowl so hard your knuckles turn white. You try your hardest to steady your breathing, one big breath in through your nose and out through your mouth.

(all clear!)

You think it’s finally passed you when you realize the shower is running. So that’s where Toji went.

“Oh shit, hold up,” you hear him say before he’s stepping out of the shower with soap still on his body. You were fine at this point but Toji still grabs your hair regardless, rubbing on your back as he whispers in your ear.

“Sorry, didn’t leave, jus’ wanted to get ready. Got some errands to run. Are you good?”

Toji was being sweet enough that you were starting to feel upset about your new semester. You didn’t think you two would ever date, but it was nice spending time with him.

“Yeah, m’okay I think. Sorry, I thought I was getting sick,” you tell him as he’s ‘sshhh’-ing you, helping you stand back up.

“I’d hug you but I’m covered in soap,” he starts, before you ask if you two can shower together.

“U-uh sure, but don’t get any ideas. We’ve got a long day ahead of us and I don’t wanna’ go rushin’ anything,” he says as he’s turning around to turn the water back on. He’s testing the water with his big hands, checking to see if the temperature is suitable to his liking. You can’t help but admire his musculature, noting how the soapy water runs down his impressive back muscles. Even his butt was muscular, which surprised you given that it still looked pretty juicy. You felt a little bold, given that Toji has now seen you at pretty much your worst. You reach your hand out, lightly tapping his ass cheek as he whips around.

“Girl what are ya’ doin?” He asks with a light giggle.

“Just admirin’ the view s’all,” you respond, laughing with him as you two step into the shower. You felt weak and your hands were a little shaky, signaling that you definitely needed some electrolytes.

Toji rinsed himself off then he lets you take a turn in the water, and feeling the warm water run down your face makes you feel ten times better than a few minutes ago. You felt so covered in filth from last night and you are aching to feel clean again.

Toji moves closer to you, wrapping his warm hands around your waist. He starts kissing your shoulder, then your neck, onto your chest, your sternum, and finally your lips. Your hands are on his chest as you kiss him back enthusiastically, feeling somewhat safe for the first time in a while. You were scared of the feelings you started to develop in the last few days. It was too soon to tell if you liked him like that, but you knew that you enjoyed being in his presence.

He deepens the kiss as he pulls you into him, leaving no space between your bodies. He sucks on your bottom lip as he pulls off, asking you a question you knew was coming.

“Ya’know we’re not fuckin’ after this, right doll?”

You can’t help but pout and ask why as if you didn’t know the answer already.

“I said I gotta run some errands and you’re comin’ with me. Plus, I gotta’ at least attempt to make it special for ya’,” he says, trying not to blush as he thinks about taking you for the first time. He pictured you underneath him, your beautiful (fair/tan/dark) skin all flushed and radiant as you whine for him to give it to you. Fuck. He felt a rush of blood surge to his dick, making him grow harder by the second. He curses his active imagination as he watches your hand snake down his stomach.

“Did ya’ not hear me? I said we’re waitin’,”

He grabs your wrist, completely enveloping it in his large palm.

“B-But please. Let me take care of you, baby, please,” you all but beg, hoping you’d get him riled up enough that he’d finally have his way with you. He loosens his grip on your wrist and you take the opportunity to snatch your hand back, immediately putting it around the base of his now fully hard cock.

“Shit, b-baby, please, n-need to wait,” he stammers, taken aback from the sudden contact. Toji woke up with a raging hard-on, opting to go take a shower before he fucked you in your sleep. You looked so pretty sitting there, finally calm after the wild night you two had. You had pushed the covers down just enough for your tits to spill out, leaving them on full display for Toji. It took everything in him not to wrap his lips around your nipple and suck until you woke up.

“We don’t have to do anything after, jus’ wanna help you out,” you say, laying it on thick as you poke your bottom lip out, giving him the best puppy dog eyes you can manage. You draw your hand back, stopping to circle your palm on his tip. Toji may have been a hard, macho man, but he was truly a softie (for you). He dropped his head, eyes transfixed on your movements. You were running your hand on his tip over and over, drawing the most sinful sounds from his lips. He was whining and grunting for you, begging you to slow down.

“B-baby, please. Don’t wanna cum, wanna’ save it for you,” he whimpers, tossing his head back. The water streaming past your shoulders was now hitting the tip of his cock, making him twitch with every touch. It took every cell he possessed to reach down and remove your hands, effectively edging himself harder than he ever had before.

You try to fight back to no avail. You know Toji has never used his full strength on you, but even at 20%, you were completely powerless. You gasp when Toji pushes you against the shower wall as he starts to devour your neck, keeping both of your hands trapped above your head. He’s fondling your tits as his length jabs into your stomach. You think the fun is nearly over as you watch Toji fall to his knees, licking his lips at the sight of your pretty cunt glistening in the water for him.

He truly could never get enough of you. Your pussy was so gorgeous, basically begging to be eaten. It was going to take an insane amount of self-restraint to not fuck you in the shower, especially after seeing your face when he dropped to his knees. You looked so hungry for him, so ready for him to take such good care of you. You thread your hands in his wet hair as you wait for him to ruin you.

“Don’t get too needy, jus’ wanna’ admire you for a second,” he says as he plants a kiss to your mound. You whine at the sudden contact waiting for him to take all of him.

“This cunt is perfect, I mean seriously I’ve never seen a pussy this gorgeous before,” he continues, kissing your slit being careful not to dip his tongue in yet.

“So tight, always so fuckin wet f’me, so desperate for my dick. You drive me fuckin’ insane, ya’know that right?” He gives you no time to respond before he’s kissing up your thighs and pushing them apart. He takes his thumb and runs it down your slit before he’s pushing it onto your clit, running small circles where you needed it the most. Hearing that little ‘oh’ you made as he finally touched you made his body a thousand degrees hotter. He couldn’t take another second before he tasted you, diving in headfirst so he could make out with your pussy.

“T-Toji, ohhmyyygooood, p-please,” you cry out, so desperate for his touch you were shaking. This was the second time this man was on his knees for you, tasting every inch of your pussy like he needed to remember the layout with his tongue. He was feral for you, moaning into your pussy while he consumed you, stimulating you in the best way with the vibrations produced by his voice.

“Ya’ wanna cum, doll?”

Your orgasm was near enough and you were so desperate for your release. This god of a man sat beneath you, green eyes looking into yours as he skillfully brings you so close to the edge.

You were a whining mess above him, and he needed that sound to be the only thing he ever heard again. Not taking a second away from your pussy, he reached to the left and turns the water off completely, which allowed your beautiful sounds to echo in the bathroom uninterrupted.

“Y-yes, pleaseplease baby please let me cum,” you beg, so close to cumming you feel like your legs might give out. Toji had full intentions on edging you as punishment for edging him, and he almost lost his resolve hearing you beg for him. He wanted to give you that and more. He needed you to feel all of him, not just his tongue, not just his fingers. Toji needed to give you what you so desperately begged for. He wanted to see your pretty pink pussy swallowing him whole with tears in your eyes as you tell him it’s ‘too big’. He needed all of this and more, and he’d give it to you…later.

You feel your vision start to turn black as you are overcome with the sensation of your impending orgasm. You’re fully humping into Toji’s mouth as he lets you use him like a toy. You’re so so close until Toji gives your clit one last harsh suck, before he pulls off with a smile.

“T-Toji, what the fu-“

For some reason he hated hearing swears come out of your mouth. It burned him up and yet made him feel so weak for you. He’s starting to think that everything about you makes him feel a similar way, too.

“Watch it brat. I didn’t get to cum, so neither do you. Let’s finish up, yeah?”

Now this was the second time that the man on his knees edged you. You were starting to think this was one of his kinks because it’s happened twice now. He even seemed to like when you did it to him. But you do remember his words from last night. Maybe he’d make it up to you by letting you cum in his mouth, on his fingers, and on his dick later.

You two finish the shower, Toji offering you a helping hand (or two) when it came time to lather up your tits. He really was a pervert.

You step out the shower, freezing your ass off as he grabs you a towel. You wrap yourself up snug. Toji’s towels were big enough that you could wrap them around you twice and still have some fabric left over. You take advantage of this, wrapping the towel completely around your shoulders too.

“Comfy?”

You responded with a cheery ‘yep!’ as you two head back to his bedroom.

“What’s the plan for today? Ya’know, we could always fuck now and later!” You slay enthusiastically.

“You think you can handle my dick twice? I’ll be surprised if you last two minutes the first time. I’ve felt how tight you are on my fingers so you’ll be lucky if it even fits.”

“Well you’re the one that said you wanted me to prove if it fits. Why not try now?”

He walks over to your side of the room, a harsh expression covering his face.

“I said no, woman. Keep askin’ and the only thing gettin’ fucked tonight is your pretty throat,” he spits, rolling his eyes at your little gasp you let out.

“You never answered my question by the way. What’s the plan, Stan?”

He laughs at your stupid rhyme, letting you know that he had to pick up some stuff for work, get your lashes, and get some lunch.

“Oh okay. We really don’t have to get the lashes, I’m just going back to school anyways. And what do you have to get for work? I mean I still don’t even know what you do. Also, there’s this really good burger spot up the road if you wanna try it!”

Toji looks at you rambling as he turns the volume knob ever so slowly to the right. He hits you with a ‘ya’done?’, laughing when you hit his shoulder. He tries to play the nonchalant, laidback role but in reality, he could not be more obsessed with you. It was all rooted in lust, but he still can’t help but think about you telling him about your day while he eats you out. He knew that even if you went back to school, he would never have pussy so good again. And he hasn’t even had you properly yet.

You arrive to a fenced-in warehouse that appeared to be abandoned. You see a black car, similar to the one Toji is in, sitting inside of a barren garage.

Toji pulls up to the gate, parking parallel to the fence.

“Look, I’ll be back in two minutes tops, do not go anywhere. Call me if you need me, don’t do anything stupid.”

He doesn’t even get the chance to hear your response before he’s slamming the door, trotting up to the gate to be let in. He makes it to the garage, hoping to see the payment he was promised.

A black duffel bag is tossed onto the floor, a cloud of dust rising from it.

“Count it.”

To which he did. It was $1k short.

“Shiu come on man. Where’s the rest of it?”

The other man shakes his head, cursing himself for being so stupid.

“Look, someone saw me on the last job I did so I had to pay ‘em off, it wasn’t my fault I swear. Someone ratted me out.”

Toji thinks hard about what to say next. He knew Shiu to be a little bastard sometimes, skimming from the top of the bucket when it came to their payouts. But he also knew it’s been about 2 minutes already and he was worried about the wrong person coming up to the car while he was gone.

“Fuck it. But you owe me drinks, yeah?” He says, grabbing the back and spinning on his heels before walking out.

“O-Oh, okay yeah, sure. Tomorrow?”

“Nope, I’ll be busy,”

“Next week then, swear.”

Toji gives him a thumbs up before he heads out of the garage, eager to see your smiling face again.

Toji walks back to the car, popping the trunk before he throws the bag into it. He hops back in the driver’s side to see a very frustrated woman.

“Why is there a fucking gun in here?!”

Jesus Christ. He should have known better than to trust you not to rummage through his shit.

“Language, god. And why are you lookin’ through my shit?”

Was he serious? I mean you knew he wasn’t one to think too hard but come on.

“Maybe because you said you had to get something from work, then you drive me to the middle of nowhere at this Amazon lookin’ ass warehouse and get a duffel bag from this guy and put it in the truck like it never happened!”

Toji can’t help but laugh. You were so concerned and worry was plastered on your face. You tried so hard to be angry with him, but you looked so cute when you got upset. The comment about the Amazon warehouse sent him, having him nearly doubled over from laughing.

“It’s not fucking funny! At least tell me why you have a gun in here, please Toji.”

“Okay okay, phew, sorry. You’re just cute when you’re mad,”

You roll your eyes, nonverbally demanding an explanation.

“Look, if you wanna know what I do for work, you have to promise not to freak out. Like swear on everything you love, because you don’t understand how bad I need to have you tonight. And I won’t let this ruin that,” he admits, patiently waiting for you to decide what your answer would be. You do enjoy hearing Toji say he needs you, and you felt the same too. At the end of the day, you know he would never hurt you, so you tell him to go ahead.

“Okay, but you promised not to freak out. I’m an assassin,” he admits, scanning your face for any sign of disapproval.

Was he serious? It would explain the gun and the large duffel bag.

“An assassin? What is this, 2003?”

Toji feels himself release a breath he didn’t know he was holding. You may not have been happy with his answer, but you were feeling okay enough to make a joke, which was a good sign in his eyes.

“So you don’t care?” He asks, hoping to hear a loud and resounding ‘nope!’ so you two can continue on with your day.

“Oh no I care. I just figured you’d say something like hit man or contract killer. Assassin is so old school,” you say, still a little wary of his career.

He rolls his eyes at your response, opting to put the car in drive with his foot still on the brake.

“So do you just kill anyone that they pay you to?”

Toji sighs, hoping you wouldn’t have any further questions for him.

“I used to when I was young and needed the money. Now I just try to kill the ‘bad guys’. Ya’know, murderers, rapists, pedos, etc.”

“Wouldn’t that make you a murderer, though?”

Oh bless you.

“You could have called me that well before I started this job. Got anymore questions for me, love? Startin’ to get hungry.”

“What if I had someone in mind that I thought should die.”

Weird question, he thinks, but not out of the ordinary.

“Well I’d kill him then, no questions asked,” he says as he slowly starts to pull out of the vacant lot.

“Who said it was a man?”

“Okay, same shit. I’d kill whoever it was,” he explains, not really caring about the nuances of who he wants you to kill. “You really got someone? I could do it tomorrow, if you need-“

Oh, he was fucking serious. You saw a little glint in his eyes signaling he might have been excited to sort out your request. You had no one in mind of course, opting to drop it before he gets a little too carried away.

“Oh god no, I don’t have anyone. Just wanted to see if you’d do it for me,” you say, not expecting his response.

“Girl, I’d do a lot more than you realize.”

You two arrive to the nearest ulta as he ushers you in, telling you to find your lashes while he roams the store. He circles back around to find you stuck on which pair of lashes to get.

“Help me pick, pleaaaase! These are really cute but they’re kind of expensive. And these are cute too but I don’t even need two pairs so I just don’t know.”

“Here, lemme’ see,” he says, grabbing the two pairs from your hand. You failed to notice the basket Toji brought with him, filled with two colognes, two perfumes, some makeup remover, and face wash.

He grabs the two lashes from you and walks to the counter, not giving you anytime to catch up to him.

“T-Toji don’t get both pairs I really don’t need them. What’s all this other stuff?”

He starts placing the items on the counter, smiling at the cashier as he explains himself.

“Well, I just got paid. You needed makeup remover and face stuff last night and I didn’t have it. Plus, these smelled good and I want you to wear ‘em for me, yeah?”

You were blushing so hard and the cashier took notice, telling one of her friends she needed a man like yours. Was he yours? No one had ever casually dropped hundreds of dollars on you before. Besides the money, no one had really gotten you anything in general. Previous boyfriends always forgot birthdays or didn’t last long enough to celebrate it, always breaking up right before to avoid the awkward confrontation if they didn’t have a good present.

The cashier states the total quietly.

“Alrighty, that’ll beeee… $660.50”

Toji lets out a ‘hm’, digging in his pockets. He pulls out $1k and unwraps the band around the stack, dropping $700 on the counter like it was a $20 bill.

The cashier hands him his change and he tells her to throw the receipt away. You two walk out of the store, hearing the women behind the counter giggling and fawning over ‘your man’.

“Toji, you really didn’t have to do that. It was so much fucking money,”

“Baby, please watch your mouth around me. It makes me wanna’ do bad things to you. And I just got paid, so lemme’ do what I want with my hard earned money, okay?”

“What kinda bad things?” You can’t help but ask, still too eager for him since this morning.

“Things we might get to one day, when you’re ready. Not tonight. Don’t want ya’ gettin’ any bright ideas.”

He says, walking over to the passenger side to open the door for you. You were starting to get used to the princess treatment, ready to enjoy every moment of kindness he offers before tonight. You hoped the sweet, kind man you were spending your morning with was not invited to the bedroom tonight. You wanted him to have his way with you and use you like a toy, albeit your first time.

You thank him as he hops in the driver’s side, starting to drive to a nearby boutique. He didn’t tell you he had plans to buy you clothes. He wanted to buy you everything, clothes, shoes, lingerie, makeup, even personal hygiene items. He liked the feeling of having money and being able to share that with someone.

You two arrive and you shot him a questioning look, thinking you were supposed to be at a restaurant. “Why are we at this clothes shop? Thought you were hungry,” you ask, before he is swiftly on the other side of the car, opening your door for you.

“Well doll, seeing’ as you’re wearing my old t-shirt and a pair of sweats I had when I was twenty, I thought it’s only fair if we get you somethin’ cute to wear to lunch.” You nod your head in agreement. You didn’t want to come off as greedy, but the baggy top and bottoms that were dragging the floor was not a good look.

You walk into the store, and there’s a good mixture of cute, casual clothes, and attire that was more appropriate for a fancy event. Toji tells you to find something nice as you watch him walk to the front counter. You see him pulling out his wallet and slipping her a bill, while she nods her head with a smile before walking to the changing rooms. You tried to not question the man as you pile in your arms dress after dress, a couple of pants and a few shirts.

Toji comes back over, taking all the clothes from your hands and throwing them over his shoulders. “What was that about up there?” You ask, hoping he’ll give you an explanation instead of calling you a brat and telling you you’ll find out later.

“Well I didn’t want anybody else back there lookin’ at my girl, so I asked if she could make sure my private show stays private,” he says with a smirk, watching as your face turns beet red. You should have known it was for something along those lines. You always caught Toji gawking at you, looking you up and down and studying every feature of yours like he was paid to.

“Okay, pervert. Think I’m about done,” you say, giggling as he grabs your hand to lead you to the fitting rooms. He pulls open the curtain for you and much to his liking, there were no other patrons left in the back. You grab the items, opting to get dressed behind the curtain so Toji didn’t ravish you in a retail store.

Toji pulls open the dressing room curtain while you ask him what he thinks. You had on a light blue sundress, one that cupped your tits so that they sat high on your chest. The dresses ruffles covered just enough of your backside to leave Toji itching to run his hands just underneath it. It was adorned with little blue bows and it had a white ribbon that was laced to the corset back. You step out, asking Toji for a hand to tighten up the back.

He’s scrolling through his phone, trying to keep his cool while he watches his clothes you were wearing drop to the floor underneath the curtain. Looking through the items you had picked out had him excited in more ways than one. Especially —

“That dress,” he thinks aloud as you step out of the dressing room, asking him some question that he doesn’t have the capacity to hear right now. He walks towards you, piecing together that you need the back of the dress tied up. He grabs the ribbon, tightening it before he tries his best to make a knot without ripping the flimsy silk material.

“Toji, it’s supposed to be a bow not a military knot,” you giggle, looking behind you in the mirror to see a much too tight knot in place of a cute, dainty bow. He manages a laugh before he sits back down, running his hands over his thighs while he tries to think of anything other than bending you over in that dress behind the curtain.

You ask him again, failing to realize that he is too lost in thought to hear you. “Hellloooo,” you say with a wave, “are you there? I asked if you liked it, silly.”

“Do I like it? Are you fuckin’ kidding? You gotta take that off and try something else because I don’t know if we’ll make it to lunch while you’re wearin’ that,” he admits, trying not to blush as he pictures you sitting on his face, completely buried under the pretty blue fabric.

You slam the curtain shut again, smiling at the thought of Toji taking care of you in the dressing room. You wanted to wear something more casual and comfortable anyways, and you didn’t take Toji as the type to eat at fancy restaurants. You slid on a pair of dark blue jeans that were snug on your waist, and accentuated your hips and thighs. You throw on a fitted white baby tee and a pair of white sneakers you had grabbed earlier. You step out, asking if this was better.

Jesus, better? He didn’t know which was worse. Seeing you in that dress made him want to ravish you. But seeing you in those jeans that were glued tight to your juicy thighs, plump ass and sinful waist had him reeling too. You looked completely casual and still so goddamn hot, it was insane to him how you made him feel. He was sure you could walk out with a trash bag on and he’d gush at how good you look.

“That’s perfect, doll,” he says with a kiss to your head. Toji asks, no, tells you to grab all of the clothes you’d tried on for him and head to the car.

“Don’t you have to pay?”

“I told her to ring up everything you picked up and I gave her my card. I’ll meet you out there. Keep this on,” he says, rubbing his hand over the swell of your ass in those jeans.

You two head out on your final errand of the day, the one that you both have been anxiously waiting for. You were starving and so was he, and you desperately needed something to drink.

Your food finally arrives at the table. You both ordered a popular sandwich on the menu with a water, desperately needing food and hydration. You two hardly speak during the meal, too desperate for a full belly to bother with words. Toji finishes much quicker than you, rubbing his belly after he wipes his mouth. He continues watching you eat, making you feel like a deer in headlights. You told him not to stare as it was rude.

“Can’t help it, doll. You’re just too cute.”

You finish the last bite of your sandwich, nearly choking on it after hearing his words. You thought he’d say something about how he wished you ate his dick like that, but his wholehearted compliment was very unexpected.

He drops a fifty on the table before you two leave, knowing all too well that the meal only came out to $20. He opens the door for you before he’s reaching down to hold your hand.

“Oh. Didn’t take you as the PDA type Toji.”

He smirks, “Holding hands is PDA now? I’d gladly fuck you in front of that entire restaurant if you wanted me to.”

“Jesus, no of course not. Just didn’t take you as the type to hold hands.”

He nods his head in agreement, “Well, usually I’m not. But I like you. Your hands are soft. Plus, I don’t want you gettin’ lost.”

“Lost in the parking lot?”

“Yeah doll. All that weed smoke might have rotted your brain so I never know,” he says with a laugh as he pats your head. He opens the car door for you yet again, giving your ass a light tap before you step in.

You two make it back to Toji’s apartment, having successfully finished all of the errands for the day. Toji yawns as he drops the bags on the counter.

“Might need a nap, doll. M’always sleepy after lunch,” he states, stretching his arms over his head before he’s pulling his shirt off.

A nap? Was he serious? You were ready to finally fuck, and you’d been thinking about it literally all day. A nap wouldn’t hurt, but you were still frustrated from your time in the shower.

“A nap after lunch? I can’t tell if that’s old man behavior or baby behavior,” you say, walking to join him on the couch.

“Might be both, I dunno’. Come here,” he beckons you close to him, making room for you to be the little spoon.

You find your spot on the couch after taking off your jeans, backing into Toji’s warm abdomen as you hum in satisfaction. He was so warm, almost like a space heater. He wasn’t hard (yet) but you kept pushing your plump ass into his crotch, hoping for any sort of reaction out of him.

That is until you hear him snore. This old fogey was already asleep. You were starting to feel like maybe he didn’t want to have sex with you, either that or he was coming up with a way to let you down easy. Regardless, you couldn’t help but let your mind drift as your eyes slowly closed. A nap wouldn’t hurt, right?

It wouldn’t hurt if it wasn’t three hours long. You had to go back to university very soon, and you knew Toji probably had work tonight. You awake to him still asleep behind you. You try your best to turn around and not wake the older man. You snake your hand under his arm, wrapping it around his back. You attempt to pull him closer to you. You take your left leg and wrap it over his hip, pulling his groin closer to yours.

He was still fast asleep, looking awfully peaceful for once. You press your lips to his, hoping to interrupt his beauty sleep. You continue this until his eyes are starting to open, and he kisses you back with fervor.

He wastes no time grabbing your ass, pulling you impossibly close to his now half-hard cock. He had waited long enough. Done all the things he thought he should have. But he was aching for release at this point.

You gasp as he pulls you in closer, deciding to deepen the kiss by pressing your hot tongue into his mouth. He can’t help but comply, allowing you to kiss him further as he returns the favor.

You two stay wrapped up like this for a while, kissing and moaning into each other’s mouths. Toji pulls away, earning a pout from yours truly.

“Look, y/n. I want you. So fuckin’ bad. But I don’t mind waitin’ if you need to. Just as long as you’re waiting on me to pop your cherry and not someone else, I’ll wait as long as I have to,” he says earnestly. He wants to make this special, and he’s scared it would be a one off fling if he didn’t take it seriously.

“No, n-no Toji, I want this really bad. With you only, I swear. I-I think I’m ready.”

And that was all the permission he needed.

Toji flips you over on the couch, sitting you back on the arm of the sofa before he’s pulling your pants down.

“Let me get you ready for me, okay baby? Why don’t ya’ see if you can squirt on my face again?”

Fuck. This was actually happening. This man that outright spoiled you all morning was now about to consume every part of you.

He licks his lips before he dives in deep, needing to taste every inch of your wetness.

“S’good for me, so fuckin’ wet every time.”

He says, lapping you up like he was paid to. He flattens his tongue over your clit, circling it in an intoxicating way.

“T-Toji, yesss, please jus’ like that.” You ask, reaching your hands down to grab his hair. You take your other hand and put it on his cheek, using all your leverage to pull him close to you.

He pulls off, telling you, “don’t get greedy now. I’ll give you what ya’ want, trust me.”

He says before he continues working on your pussy, needing to make you cum for him. He wastes no time seeing as you were already so wet for him. He takes his middle finger and prods your entrance, pulling a gasp from your lips.

“Please,” is all you have time to say before he’s shoving his finger inside you. The stretch was still there, but his work on your clit was helping you open up to him fully. You felt your orgasm approaching, so desperate for release after being edged not once, but twice by this man. You’re honestly scared he might do it again, until he starts curling his finger while inside you. The sensations were pushing you over the edge as you try not to crush Toji’s head with your thighs, exclaiming to him that you were cumming.

He feels you pulse and clench around his finger and the thought of you doing that on top of him has him spitting precum in his boxers. Speaking of you being on top of him, he has an idea.

“Done already?” you ask, breathless as Toji sits up in front of you. He tells you to get up to which you obey, awaiting his commands. You watch him lay back down on the couch (hopefully not for another nap)

“Come here, love. Come sit on my face. Use me to feel good,” he says, a blush rising up his face that you wish you could remember forever.

“Wait, r-really? That’s so embarrassing though, what if I suffocate you?”

Toji rolls his eyes so hard they might be stuck. “You barely weigh anything. I’d like to see you try. I’m serious, try your hardest to suffocate me with that pussy and I’ll be a happy man.”

You see how eager he is for you, both in his eyes and his pants. You slowly take a step to the couch, throwing your legs around his head. You sit back, almost sitting on his chest. That wouldn’t do.

“Told ya’ to put that pussy on me, girl. You need to listen,” he says before he’s grabbing your ass and yanking you close to him, making you sit entirely on his face. The new sensations and the ability to take control of your own pleasure was too much for you. You already felt your knees get weak when Toji starts to lick you up and down again.

You are falling apart above him, head thrown back in pure ecstasy as he pleases you to the best of his ability. He’s working two thick fingers inside you now, curling them with every thrust.

“Look at me when ya’ cum, need t’see you,” he says, muffled by your plush thighs and plump pussy.

Your orgasm was rushing in much sooner than you expected, that familiar snap breaking in your stomach as you gush all over his face. You look down at him, watching him drink in your release with a smile on his face. He withdraws his fingers, giving them a long suck before he’s kissing your clit, giving you one final lick to clean you up.

He pushed you off of him, sitting you in his lap.

“Come taste baby. S’good”

He says before shoving his tongue into your mouth. You two stay entangled like this for a moment, kissing each other with a fever. He continues undressing you, mouth immediately latching to your nipple as his hand kneads the other one. You moan for him, telling him he’s so good for you. Toji didn’t think he’d care about receiving praise from anyone, let alone you. Now it was his goal to make you praise him again. He’d earn that praise in due time.

You reach down to palm him through his sweats, earning a grunt from the man below you. You free him from him boxers, hand wrapping around the tip of his heavy cock. You slowly start to stroke him, spitting in your hand for extra lubrication. He’s groaning underneath you, but in his lip hard as he watches your every move.

You start to move off of him, wanting to feel him in your mouth before he’s grabbing your waist to keep you planted on his lap.

“If you put that mouth on me I’m gonna’ cum. We’ll do it later. I just need your pussy on me, please baby. So fuckin’ tired of waitin’,” he basically begs. You were so nervous for this part, but you were more than ready. You noticed how the women looked in porn, always so fucked out of it and overwhelmed with pleasure. You wanted to be the one grabbing the sheets as you moan for the man fucking you for once.

“I don’t wanna wait anymore either, Toji. So… how do you want to do it?” You ask, trying not to make this anymore awkward than it was already.

“Wan’ you to ride me, baby. Can you do that f’me? If I take control right now I’m scared I’ll break you,” he says, fully intent on having you take the lead, at least for now.

“What if I’m not good, though?” You ask, unable to stop comparing yourself to the probably many women that came before you.

“You’re gonna’ be perfect, baby. Please. Don’t wanna’ hurt you,” and while you wouldn’t mind if he did hurt you, maybe later would be a better time for some rough treatment.

You take a deep breath as you bring him closer to your entrance. He’s essentially holding his breath, analyzing your every move. You run the tip along your folds, earning a moan from the both of you. You line him up with your entrance, suddenly quite terrified of the stretch he’d give you. He was so much bigger than just his fingers and even that took a while to get used to.

You sink onto his tip, excruciatingly slow.

“Oh-Ohmygod,” he spits out, in disbelief at how tight and wet you were.

“S’big, T-Toji, fuck,” you say, no longer caring if you say a few curse words in his presence. He tells you to go slow as you finally push the rest of his tip in. You felt so full already and you still had so much more to take. You try to sink down onto him fully, his hands on your waist holding you steady as you take another inch. The stretch was so extreme and you felt like he was splitting you in half. You didn’t know if you’d even be able to take all of him. You were sweating and coming apart above him and he’d never seen something so pretty. Here he was, finally popping your cherry. You were so tight it almost hurt how hard you were pulsing and clenching around him.

“Need you to relax baby, I know it’s a lot but you can take it, promise,” he says, running his hand down your waist to play with your clit. He rubs circles on your bud slowly, helping you relax a little on top of him. You start to take another inch, slowly pushing yourself onto him further. You underestimated how helpful Toji was being playing with your clit, and you were able to take two more inches before you had to stop.

“Fuck, yeah there ya’ go baby. S’good for me, takin’ me so well,” he says, in disbelief at how good you feel. He could pass away right now and die the happiest man. You felt so heavenly clamped around him. Your face was so red and sweaty, eyes boring holes into his skin as he reaches up to suck on your nipple. The movement made him push into you even further, the unexpected stretch feeling somewhat pleasurable as you whine on top of him.

You felt close already with his skillful fingers working on your clit the way he was. You didn’t expect to cum again, at least not for a while. You want to be able to take all of him, so you continue pushing yourself down on his member as he draws you to your third orgasm.

“P-Please, y/n. Need to feel you cum on me, please I’ll fuckin’ die without it,” he says so desperately as he quickens his movements on your clit.

You slowly start to rock your hips into his hand, chasing your orgasm and relishing in the feeling of Toji’s hard cock pushing into your sweet spot. It felt so different than his fingers and you were sure his fingers may never be enough again.

You only had a little of him left before you had taken him fully. With a couple more strokes of his fingers, you were cumming and clamping around him.

“T-Toji, fuck, cumming. Please, fuck, please give it me, can’t do it m-myself, please” you ramble above him, needing him to give you the rest of his dick as you came undone for him.

Those words were simply music to his ears. He brings you to your orgasm as you beg him to shove the rest of his length in. He keeps rubbing your clit as he’s wrapping his arm all the way around your waist, impaling you down onto his cock. You came so hard, he thought you might push his dick out. The feeling alone had him almost breeding your sweet pussy. He finally bottoms out as you look at him like all the breath was ripped from your lungs. The feeling of his heavy balls pushing against your ass as he pushes almost fully into you had you seeing white. Your orgasm was still crashing into you, making you squeeze entirely too tightly around his cock.

“H-Holy shit, y/n, so fucking tight. Need ya’ to move for me, can you do that baby?”

You nod at him with an ‘mmhm’, finally feeling adjusted enough to his size to move. You pull your hips up, basking in the feeling of his member filling you to the brim. You pull off just enough for only the tip to be left inside you, shoving yourself back down on his cock with a loud gasp. Toji’s dick curved upward in such a way that he was pushing into your g-spot with each thrust.

“There ya’ go baby, nice and slow jus’ like that. So fucking good, you’re doin’ so good for me, y/n,” he says, and you love the feeling of your name leaving his lips. You continue moving up and down on top of him, mostly using your full body to move. You pick up a decent pace, moaning out little ah! ah! ah!’s as he starts to meet your thrusts. You felt another orgasm sneaking up on you, Toji’s dick pushing into your gummy walls and hitting your spot with every thrust.

“Feel good, huh? Gonna cum for me while ya’ bounce on this cock? Tell me who’s pussy this is and I’ll think about lettin’ you cum,” He demands, much too eager for you to cum all over his lap.

You felt your knees start to give out and your legs are starting to shake. Even if Toji wasn’t so big, you weren’t used to bouncing up and down like this. You plant your hands on Toji’s firm chest, wanting to feel his heartbeat as you take him like the good girl you are. Your hands wander as you rake your fingers over his nipple, hearing him whine for you as a pretty pink hue covers his cheeks. You sink down fully on his cock, grinding your hips since your legs were so tired. The hair at the base of his cock was tickling your clit as you grinding on top of him slowly, moaning into his mouth the entire time.

You reach your head down, latching your lips around his nipple as you lick and suck him. You fail to realize the mistake you made as Toji grabs your hips and starts to piston his hips into you. You release your hold on him, instead opting to grab onto his big arms for balance. You are nearly screaming above him as he fucks into you with a furosity you didn’t know he had. All that could be heard was the sounds you two were making and the loud plap! plap! plap! of his balls hitting your ass with every thrust.

“You — you look s’cute on top of me. Am I gonna make you cum, huh baby?” He says with a huff, trying desperately to keep his pace up as he pounds into you.

You were too far gone. Your orgasm was nearly here as Toji absolutely abuses your poor cunt.

“Y-Yes, m’gonna cum for you. You f-feel, fuck, s’good daddy. You own this pussy, s’all yours”

Toji nearly came from hearing those words leave your lips. He increases his pace, fucking you brutally through your orgasm. Your pussy was a vice around his cock as you push him fully out of you, squirting all over his cock and chest. You were chanting his name as you came down from your high.

He has to regrettably pull out of you for fear of cumming too soon, instead flipping you over. You sat on the couch on your hands and knees, looking behind you to see him admiring the view.

“Stop s-starin’,” you whine, feeling much too exposed in front of him. Toji pulls his boxers off and throws them to the side, fully stroking himself before he lines himself up with your entrance.

You feel Toji’s hand on the back of your head, pushing you deep into the couch. You were now just as he wanted you, face down, ass up. He slowly pushes into you with a long, drawn-out ‘fuuuuck’.

“Still so fuckin’ wet f’me doll. Never had pussy so good, so fuckin’ tight, shit. And those cute little noises you’re makin’ aren’t helpin’,” he admits as he bottoms out entirely.

You whine underneath him, this new position making you take every last inch of him. He was so deep now he was practically in your womb. He pulls all the way out before he’s harshly thrusting all the way back in, all his self-control seemingly thrown out of the window.

He couldn’t help but fuck you the way he thought you needed. He could tell by the way your face lit up when he took control earlier that you wanted him to ruin you. He promised many times that he’d make you feel good and that he’d fuck you within an inch of your life, and he was a man of his word.

He’s pounding into you now with a brutal grip on the fat of your hips, surely hard enough to leave a bruise. You were nearly crying underneath him with the way he was slamming into you, meeting his hips with your pelvis with every thrust.

“Pussy’s so fuckin’ deep baby, yeah? Nobody’s ever taken this much of me, n’look at you. Doin’ so good, honey,” he says, unable to prescreen the words leaving his mouth. He’s fucking into you at an excruciating pace right before he slows up, reaching down to grab a fistful of your hair. He grabs it right at your scalp, careful not to yank too hard as he’s pulling you back to his chest.

He’s wrapping his arms around you, grabbing all over your tits and your waist as he starts to fuck into you again. You were moaning filthy sounds to him as he took you properly. This new angle had him hitting your cervix with every thrust, the slight pain mixing with the extreme pleasure as you get ready to cum for him again.

“So d-deep baby, yeah. Bet you can feel me all in here, huh?” He says as he reaches his hand down to your navel, pushing hard onto your stomach. You scream as your cunt clenches around him, coming so close to your orgasm. He reached his hand even further, flicking his fingers on your clit. It only took a few seconds of the added stimulation before you were cumming all over his thick cock, begging him to stop before you lose yourself.

“Good girl, that’s it, make a fuckin’ mess on me baby doll,” he says, pulling out and admiring the creamy white ring you left on the base of his cock. Your pussy was so tight he felt like he wouldn’t last much longer. He wanted to fuck you for hours, but after being edged this morning he was much closer than he wanted to be.

He kisses up your spine before he’s laying you back down on the couch facing him.

“Wanna see that pretty face with my cum all over it, yeah? Wanna watch you cum for me again, baby please,” he begs, wrapping his hands around the back of your knees as he spreads you for him. He looks down at your swollen cunt, all puffy and abused from his dick. It was weeping with your fluids and if he wasn’t so desperate to cum, he’d be eating you again in a heartbeat. He gathers the saliva in his mouth, spitting on your pussy for some added lubrication. It was definitely not needed, but watching it glide over your swollen folds was more than enough. He lines himself up with your entrance once more as he sinks himself into you again, watching how desperately your pretty pink pussy swallows him whole.

“G-God, look at that. She needs this cock so bad. Practically beggin’ for my cum isn’t she?” He asks you, obviously referring to your cunt. You are at a loss for words as you nod your head quickly, pulling him into a deep kiss. He starts pumping into you now, drinking in every noise that escapes your mouth with his own. He pulls back enough just to watch your face as he pounds into you. Your brows are scrunched together as he hits your cervix, the pain mixing with the pleasure making you see stars. He was taking such good care of you and you knew you would be cumming before you were ready.

His orgasm was fast approaching as he gave you all his inches. Your pussy was making these obscene squelching sounds and you were a moaning mess underneath him. He was getting so close and he needed you to take him just a little bit deeper. He removes his hands from your knees, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he bends down to kiss you, effectively putting you into a mating press.

“T-Toji! My, Ohmygod, right there, please please don’t stop please,” you beg, feeling like you could cum at any second.

“Course not, baby. This s-sweet cunt’s gonna’ make me cum. Where’d ya’ want it, hm?” He had full intentions of busting on your face, but thinking about your pussy or your tits covered in his seed had him rolling his eyes into his skull.

“Inside, p-please, m’on the pill. Gimme’ your babies, daddy,” you say, wanting to see how good it’d feel to let him claim you like that.

“O-oh shit, yeah? Such a filthy slut for me, huh? Like a bitch in heat, wantin’ me to knock you up. Lemme fill you up, y/n, gonna give you all my cum,” he says, using every last brain cell to say it. Your pussy was clamping down on him yet again, signaling that you were finally cumming on his dick. His nasty words went straight to your pussy as you snake your hand down to play with your clit, helping you work through your orgasm.

Fuck, seeing you like this, watching how flustered you got when he called you names had him so close. He thrusted into you a few more times before he was pressing his full body weight into you, bringing you in half with his tip pressed flush against your cervix. He never ever came inside any woman, except for his baby momma. He had one too many brats in his life, and he didn’t need another one. But it would take an act of god to pull him away from your heat now.

“F-Fuck, baby, you’re too good, m’cumming for ya’ doll,” he said, barely getting the words out of his mouth before he was emptying himself into your heavenly pussy. Your mouth sang pleas of ‘yes’ and ‘please’ as he finished inside of you. The feeling was something you never wanted to forget. You were sure you’d never have a man make you feel even half as good as Toji did.

After a few extra deep thrusts to make sure his cum was in there nice and snug, he pulled his length from you, moaning at the added stimulation your gummy walls provided him. You cursed at the lack of his warmth, feeling all too empty, especially after his warm cum spills out of you onto the couch.

“That won’t do, huh?” He asks before he’s thumbing your clit and pushing his pointer and middle fingers inside of you. You huff at the overstimulation, not expecting to be thrown into a field of pleasure so soon after Toji finished. He pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling his thick fingers into your sweet spot with every thrust.

“B-Baby, ohhhmygooood, s-so sensitive,” you whine, attempting to grab his wrist before he’s pinning your hand back.

“So? S’all your fault. You and this pretty pussy made me cum early, but I gotta reward you for doin’ so good f’me,” he smirks, quickening his pace on your clit while he grinds his fingers into you.

You were already so overstimulated from everything Toji did to you, so your orgasm was impending. Toji can tell when you’re getting close now. Your thighs start to shake and attempt to shut, your pussy gets oh so tight, tight enough that it’s talking to him with those filthy wet sounds. You scrunch up your face while you whine and pant for him. You didn’t even have to warn him this time as you were cumming, releasing all you had left onto his fingers.

He tells you you’re a good girl as he pulls out of you for the final time, grabbing a towel to clean the two of you off temporarily. He starts with you first of course, helping you clean everywhere Toji had ruined. He’s kissing you throughout the process, telling you to let him take care of you since you were too fucked out to care.

Toji cleans himself off, grunting at the rough fabric on his now half-hard cock. He lays down beside you, rubbing your stomach as he admits something he definitely didn’t want to.

“I think I’m startin’ to take a liking to you, y/n”

@theobsidianempress @scorpiosugar @voloslobotomyservice @lostsoul526 @shhreya @placxdbaby @iminurwallsgege @slvttyplum 🗣️🫶💖

[xxavu]

YOU WILL BEG ME, TO COME SEX U .ᐟ

᱖synopsis! The Himbo wants you to stay?

᱖Pairings! Himbo!G.Satoru x Fem!Reader

᱖Contents! Smoking, Drinking, P in V, Titty fuck, Dom-ish!reader, Sub-ish!Satoru, Cumshot, MDNI!

Gojo Satoru, with his slick white hair and electric blue eyes, towered at 6 '3’’. He was the ultimate himbo—handsome, jacked, and not the brightest bulb. Your typical football captain that found entertainment in hookup culture.

Satoru’s bright smile lit up the entire room as he entered the house. Cheers erupted from everyone as he strolled in, arms loaded with alcohol. Girls swarmed him, and boys dapped him up. The party was just starting now that he was here.

Your eyes sharply glared at him in the distance as you huffed a thick cloud from the joint between your fingers. “Tch—what a bunch of dick riders,” you muttered to your best friend, who had been watching along with you. “I’d let him use me,” she said, turning to look at you with a knowing smirk.

You give her a disgusted look. "Whatever floats your boat, baby," you say, your expression softening into a small smile as you bring the red solo cup to your lips and take a sip of the strong alcohol. "Oh, come on, you'd so do it too!" She raised her eyebrows with a wink, her smile causing yours to widen. "In what world?" you reply with a playful scoff.

“D–Don’t fucking touch me!” You pant, pushing his cold big hands off your waist as you lazily grind on his cock. With every bounce, his tip kissed that certain spot in your cunt. You furrowed your brows staring down at him, “Fuck you feel so good,” he groaned throwing his head back as you pounced on his needy cock.

His face flushed with every bounce, your body on top of his as he laid his hands over his eyes, trying his best not to touch you. Small whimpers escaping his mouth, betraying his attempts at restraint. "S–shut up!" you demanded, huffing with every bounce, your body moving rhythmically on top of his. His whimpers only grew more frequent as you continued, trying to maintain control over the situation.

You started to feel bad as you saw his hands reaching out, searching for something to hold onto as the euphoric feeling overwhelmed him. “Nngh,” you moaned softly, then grabbed his hands, guiding them to your breasts. "Squeeze," you whispered.

His fingers tentatively closed around you, his grip tightening as he followed your instruction, his whimpers turning into deeper, more satisfied moans. "Tell me—do you like it?" you purred as you leaned down closer to his ear. His breath hitched, and he nodded vigorously, his fingers digging into your skin as he whispered, "Yes... I love it."

You shut your eyes as you leaned back up, the pleasure overwhelming you. But you were too stubborn to show it, biting your lip to suppress any sounds, determined to maintain control. Feeling his cock twitching inside you, veins pulsating against your walls—you couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, “hah…fuck.”

Satoru felt a wave of bliss wash over him as he watched your body bounce on top of him. He had never paid much attention to you in school, but something about seeing you chatting with one of the boys on his football team had captured his interest. The tight, latex dress and fishnets you wore were not something he would typically go for, but there was an undeniable attraction.

How different this was for him—not only were you riding him, which was something he rarely experienced, but you were also very dominant. Your body bounced on his so beautifully, his icy eyes taking in the scene before him. The way you held back your moans, the sweat beading down your cute face, and the determined look as you fought to suppress your pleasure—all of it captivated him. His hand squeezed your breast, feeling the intensity of your movements and the tension in your body.

“Baby, let it out—moan f’ me yeah?” He panted as his big hands slid down onto your waist. You shook your head reluctantly. “N–no.” You whispered as you lay your soft hand on his chest. Without warning, Satoru tightened his grip around your waist, ramming inside you even harder. The sudden intensity caught you off guard, sending waves of pleasure through your body as he took control. “Ah–Satoru!” You cried out as his cock felt as if he was reaching for places no man ever could. 

As his girthy cock mindlessly rammed into your cunt, you shivered at the overwhelming stimulation. Leaning in, you got a closer look at him. His icy blue eyes were filled with pure lust, his cheeks a light shade of pink, and his lips smooth and moisturized. The intensity in his gaze made your heart race even faster, there was definitely an unspoken tension right now. 

"Kiss me—please," he whined, his eyes locking onto yours with desperation. The vulnerability in his voice and the longing in his gaze were impossible to resist, drawing you closer to him.Your bodies moved together rhythmically as your lips met his perfect, peachy lips. Your tongues danced together, exchanging saliva, and your soft moans were now muffled. 

Pulling away, the string of saliva followed you for a short minute before breaking. Glancing down at Satoru, his chest heaving as his gaze follows yours. You smirk softly as you get off Satoru, leaving him feeling unsatisfied at the sudden loss of contact. His icy blue eyes widened in surprise and frustration, a desperate need for your touch evident on his face. “W–what are you doing?” He asked confusedly.

You crawl down between Satoru’s legs as he finds himself now at the edge of the bed. Cupping your ample breast together, you give him an alluring smile. “Put your cock–between my breasts.” You whispered seductively. You watch Satoru’s face flush with arousal as he eagerly positions himself between your breasts, “Good boy,” You smirk. 

His heart skipped a beat as he looked down at you, desire swirling in his icy blue eyes. He could hardly believe the intensity of what he was feeling, every inch of him craving your touch once more. “W..why’d you ca–” his eyes shut in pleasure as you move your breast up and down his girthy cock, your body swaying in a hypnotic rhythm. 

Your fox-like eyes glimmer with mischief and possessiveness as you continue to move your breast up and down Satoru’s cock, your own arousal growing with each weak whimper Satoru let out. He threw back his head as you felt his cock twitch between your breasts, “M–Mo..” You cock your eyebrow curiously at Satoru stuttered words. “Hmm?” You hum seductively as you watch his chest rise up and down rapidly.

“Mommy! Let me cum on your face,” He groaned as his hands made his way towards your face, his soft thumb caressing your bottom lip before he shoved it into your mouth. You blushed at what he had just muttered out, not once did you ever think you’d hear the Satoru that. 

You gave in, nodding your head as you brought his thumb to your lips, sucking on it gently. His breath hitched, the sensation sending shivers down his spine. The look in your eyes promised more, making his heart race with anticipation.

Without hesitation, you felt the hot, creamy liquid spill all over your face. Satoru's breath came in ragged gasps, his eyes locked onto you with a mix of awe and satisfaction. The intensity of the moment left both of you breathless, a charged silence settling between you. 

Moments of unspoken silence lingered as you redressed yourself in what you had been wearing to the party. "You're leaving..?" Satoru hesitantly asked, now sitting on his bed wearing only a gray pair of sweats. His voice was tinged with uncertainty, his eyes watching you intently.

You chuckled softly. "I thought hookups were your thing," you teased, watching his reaction carefully. He cleared his throat, his expression earnest as he softly shook his head.

"Stay,"

[fuckmyskywalker]

𝐎𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐬 — 𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫.

18+ smut, angsty, hurt/comfort. | Word count: 2.2k

Slowly finding my will to write <3.

A soft knock on glass drags you out of your slumber. Who could it be at this hour? It would be impossible for someone to be outside your window, right? It must have been the wind. Mourning the remains of a sweet, warm dream where you had everything you’ve ever wished for, you walk out of bed rubbing your eyes, wrapping the silky robe around you. Coruscant can be quite cold when the sun falls, and the spacious bedroom does little to shield you from it. 

Pushing the curtains aside, you slide the window open and peek your head to look side to side. “Hello? You mumble. It definitely was the wind. What a silly thought it was to think you’d find someone outside in the middle of the night. With a sigh, you take a step back, ready to return to the comfort of your warm bed— when a gloved hand grips the edge of the window and jumps into your room.

Gasping, you take a step back, eyes widening in shock when the unmistakable black robes come into your view. Anakin’s chest is heavy, and his cheeks look flushed, perhaps outside it was colder than you imagined. “Listen to me,” He calls, reaching behind his back to close the window with a quiet click. “Don’t push me away this time, please listen to me.”

“Anakin,” You start, wrapping your arms around yourself as if you were trying to protect yourself from the imminent heartbreak. “You know you can’t be here. I told you we can’t be together anymore,” The words burn your throat harder than any liquor. Having him in front of you is even more painful, but there is no easy way to do this— again.

His gaze flickers over you, taking in your beauty, even freshly woken up. “I didn’t come all this way just to listen to that,” He growls, stepping forward, trying to close the distance between you two. His flesh hand reaches out, cupping your face, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. “You didn’t mean it, my love. You couldn’t have meant it.” The longing that fills his words works to pulverize your heart— or the pieces that are left. 

“You can be here—”

“You know I can’t live without you. We both know what we share is real, and I won’t let anyone tear us apart.”

Slapping his hand off you delicately, you turn around, keeping your head high in a pathetic attempt to appear more composed— just trying to hide the tears burning your water lines. “You know I don’t mean it, but there is nothing we can do about it,” Your reply wavers at the end, the convinced façade slowly slipping away. “This hurts me as much as it hurts you— but you know this wasn’t my decision. It was my father’s.”

“And what if I tell you I’m not leaving until you agree to run away with me?” He counters back, his stubbornness never doubting. He’s determined, even reckless. Approaching you, his hand rests on your hip, tracing the curve with his fingers. “I’ve been thinking about it— about us. I believe I can make a life for us, away from all this. You are worth it, my sweetheart. You are worth fighting for.”

“Why do you have to be so stubborn?” Your voice breaks. His touch should be calming, but with the inner turmoil inside your heart, it only shakes you up more. 

“Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me you don’t love me, and I’ll walk away.”

It was an impossible request, he knows as well as you do that you’d rather die than to say those dreadful words out loud. “I… I don’t—” You do try, a sad, futile attempt. “Anakin, please. I have no say in this, my father arranged my marriage— there is nothing we can do to stop it.”

His jaw tenses, letting go of your hip to grab your wrist, trying to make you face him. “Then we’ll make it work. You and me, against the world. We’ll find a way to make it work in our favor. I won’t let you go. I can’t. Not tonight— not ever.” You can read the desperation in his voice, you mirror it. 

“What then?” You ask, complying with his need to see your face. Spinning around, his eyes soften when he sees the tears trickling down your burning cheeks. “We ran away, and then what? Just be fugitives? Live in fear of getting caught and separated?”

Wiping away your tears with his thumbs, Anakin’s voice lowers. “There’s always a way, I’ll find a way. A safe haven for us to start anew, a place where no one can find us. We’ll build a life together, us against the galaxy.”

“Do you think it is that easy?” Your mind races with possibilities, none of them good. It can’t be that easy, it never is. “My love, you know I’ll do anything to be with you, to fulfill all of our dreams, to have our family— our home…” Your words trail down at the end, replaced by sobs of despair. Is this really how it has to be? “Why do you have to make it so hard? Why can’t you accept that we can't be together, no matter how much we want to?”

“Because I can’t give up on us. Not when being with you makes every moment worth living— I refuse to let you go, not without a fight,” The same resolve he finds in butterflied, he finds it with you. Anakin knows when a cause becomes a lost one, and you’ll never be a lost cause. “Let’s make a plan, figure it out together. No matter how far we have to run, or how many obstacles we have to overcome, as long as I have you by my side, I’ll have the strength to fight.”

“I’m scared,” You confess, sobs ripping out of your throat, your body shaking with them.

“I’m too,” Anakin sighs, his shoulders deflating. “But we’ll risk it,” Wrapping his arms around you, he cradles you closer, resting your head against his neck, not caring how your tears soak through his black robes. “If losing everything means keeping you, then it’s a price I’m willing to pay.”

“Are you willing to leave the Order for… me?”

“For you, angel, I’ll burn the Galaxy down,” He vows, a promise thick with raw emotion. “The Jedi Order can’t hold a candle to the fire that burns inside me for you. Nothing matters if I can’t have you. Us against the Galaxy, and we’ll win.”

Gripping the leather edges of his robe, you sob harder, “I want to be with you, even if that means going against my father’s orders, even if that means giving up my crown.”

Gently, he lifts your chin. The blue eyes that convey all the love he has for you, boring into your soul. “Just us, then. Forever,” Anakin leans in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. A promise in every brush of his lips, in every curve of his mouth. At this moment, no one else exists. 

Kissing him back, your heart swells with hope; maybe there is a way, a ray of sun amidst the chaotic storm. A chance for you two to be together in this timeline. “Please don’t leave me alone.”

“Not even in a million Galaxies would I leave you alone tonight, love of my life.”

Letting yourself go, you sigh in contentment, this is where you belong, this is where Anakin belongs. Pushing you towards the bed, Anakin slides the robe down your shoulders before laying you down. Your hands work on his belt, craving the contact of his warm skin against yours; Anakin helps you remove his clothes before helping you with yours, pulling your sheer nightgown up your head. Between kisses, he mumbles more sweet promises, promises you to keep close to your heart. Trailing his lips down your neck, his teeth nip at your collarbone. 

“At this moment, and in every moment to come, I swear my love for you,” Tracing lazy circles on the side of your thigh, Anakin traces the curve of your breasts with his tongue. “You are my heart, my soul, and I’ll fight for you until my last breath.”

Spreading your legs wide, he peels off your underwear, throwing it behind his shoulder to the pile of clothing at the end of your bed. Delving between them, his fingers find the wetness that coats your entrance, his thumb brushing against your clit making you gasp and arch into his touch. 

“My world revolves around you.”

He slides one finger, then two, deep and steady, pumping them in and out slowly. It’s a heavenly sensation you weren’t sure if you’ll ever have the pleasure to experience again. “Together,” You choke, jerking your hips as he spreads you enough to fit him, eager for more, craving the love that only Anakin can give you— two souls entertained by the Force itself. 

Curling his fingers, Anakin watches with a heated grin how your tight walls swallow them whole, the slick trickling down your core. He can’t take it anymore, he needs you— possibly more than he has ever needed you. Withdrawing his fingers, he lifts them up to lick the clean, humming at the familiar taste of you. Barely illuminated by the pale moonlight seeping through the curtains, Anakin wraps a hand around his hard cock, guiding it to your entrance, “Yours,” He whispers, pushing inside you. 

The sensation of being filled up by Anakin will never cease to make your thighs quiver and your eyes roll. It is like a relief to an uncomfortable, burning itch that only he can fix, always almost too much. “Mine,” You breathe, circling his broad shoulders with your trembling arms, digging your nails into his shoulders. Your hips rock, aiming to match his slow thrusts.

He plunges deep, the tip of his fat cock brushing against your sweet spot in no time. “Forever,” Anakin captures your lips in a fierce kiss, tongues tangling and dancing in tandem with his growing thrusts, every push of his hips acting like a confirmation of your love. Pushing your hips firmly against the bed, he holds you steady as he drives into you relentlessly, watching you teeter over the edge.  “Fuck— You feel so good, my pretty girl,” Anakin grunts, his voice thick with lust.

The smell of sex is heavy in the air, mixed with the sweet sound of your slick pussy welcoming his cock over and over, flesh slapping, rough kisses— everything is just a culmination of weeks of being apart, weeks of frustration… that will finally end.

Anakin pulls out of you, his length throbbing and glistening with your essence. He helps you straddle him, hands cupping and groping your ass. “You are so beautiful,” He praises you, watching you lower yourself over him. His cock parts your folds once more, the new position making him reach a deeper part of you. Swearing under his breath, Anakin finds leverage on your hips while you do on his shoulders, keeping his eyes open to not miss any second.

With the way you are riding him, Anakin knows he won’t last long. Gritting his teeth, he lifts his hips, meeting you halfway and making you yelp louder. Your breasts bounce with every stroke, the perfect view giving his eyes a possessive, primal gleam. 

“I love you,” You pant, chest heaving. You mean it, you’ve always meant it.

“I love you more,” He growls, gripping your right breast, giving it a firm squeeze before he starts to roll the stiff peak between his calloused fingertips, the action causing your velvety walls to milk his cock. “Faster, baby, show me how much you love me,” He pinches your nipple harder, mixing a slight pain with mind-blowing pleasure. Despite your trembling legs, you ride him faster, the lust and passion sending shivers down your spine. 

“I’m gonna come— please, come inside me,” You beg, needing the release and needing his load to fill you up. Anakin is weak under your spell, delighted to please you. 

Lowering his head, his lips capture your nipple between his teeth, biting down and suckling, his blonde curls brushing over your chest. He keeps you midway with his hands, thrusting up harder, and faster, building up his orgasm even more. The symphony inside your little bubble will be engraved in your mind forever, etched with fervor and a pulsating desire. You are so close now, sweeter than nectar, just as weak as Anakin is for you. 

His name falls down your lips one last time before your walls spam around his cock, being sent in a spiral of bliss, ripples of ecstasy crashing through your body. Anakin follows suit, biting down harder on your nipple— surely leaving a mark— before his balls tighten, and he empties his seed inside you, thick ropes of cum painting your walls white.

Slumping back onto the bed, he wraps his strong arms around you, letting you collapse on top of him. Breathless and covered in a sheer layer of sweat, you couldn’t be happier. Anakin hugs you closer as if he was afraid you’d disappear. You fit perfectly against him— always have. There are no more words to be said, everything is done, and your oaths now have changed. 

For now, all that matters is your warm body lying on his chest, the weight of the Galaxy forgotten… at least for tonight. 

[kenzirr]

JJ had been keeping a secret from the Pogues for a while now. His girlfriend, Y/N, was someone he wanted to keep to himself for a bit longer, savoring the sweetness of their new relationship. But ever since he mentioned he was seeing someone, the Pogues had been relentless with their questions.

"What's her name, JJ?" Kie asked, elbowing him playfully.

"Yeah, come on, man! Spill the beans," Pope added, leaning in.

"Is she hot?" John B grinned, nudging JJ's arm.

JJ just smirked, shaking his head. "You'll see soon enough," he teased, leaving them hanging yet again.

This had been the routine for the past few weeks. Every time the Pogues gathered, the conversation inevitably turned to JJ's mysterious girlfriend. They were all dying to know more, but JJ was determined to keep Y/N a secret just a little longer.

One evening, they were all hanging out at the Chateau, sprawled out on the worn-out couches with beers in hand. The warm summer breeze wafted in through the open windows, carrying the sound of distant waves.

Kie leaned forward, her curiosity getting the best of her. "Come on, JJ, just give us a hint. What's she like?"

JJ took a swig of his beer, considering how much to reveal. "She's amazing. Smart, funny, beautiful... and she puts up with me, so she's got to be a fucking saint."

Pope chuckled. "She sounds too good to be true. How'd you manage to find someone like that?"

JJ shrugged, a fond smile playing on his lips. "Just got lucky, I guess."

John B raised an eyebrow. "Lucky, huh? You mean you didn't have to charm your way into her heart?"

JJ laughed. "Oh, there was plenty of charm involved, don’t worry about that."

Kie rolled her eyes, though she was smiling. "Alright, Mr. Charming, when do we get to meet this saintly girlfriend of yours?"

JJ hesitated. He wanted the Pogues to meet Y/N, but he also enjoyed the private bubble they had created. "Soon. I promise."

As the days passed, the questions didn't let up. JJ could tell the Pogues were getting more impatient, their curiosity piqued by his secrecy. He found himself looking forward to the moment when Y/N would finally meet them, knowing they would love her as much as he did.

One sunny afternoon, the Pogues decided to hit the beach, a favorite pastime of theirs. The sun was high in the sky, and the sand was warm beneath their feet as they set up their spot, spreading out towels and unloading coolers.

JJ was more distracted than usual, glancing at his phone every few minutes. The Pogues noticed, exchanging knowing looks.

"Expecting a call?" Pope asked, smirking.

"Or maybe a surprise visitor?" Kie added, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

JJ tried to play it cool, but his excitement was palpable. "Something like that."

John B stretched out on his towel, adjusting his sunglasses. "Well, whoever it is, they better show up soon. You’re starting to get twitchy."

JJ just chuckled, shaking his head. He knew he couldn't hide his anticipation much longer. They spent the next hour surfing, swimming, and lounging around, enjoying the perfect beach day. JJ kept his eyes peeled, waiting for Y/N to arrive.

As if on cue, Y/N appeared on the horizon, striding confidently across the sand with her friends. Her bikini hugged her curves perfectly, accentuating her natural beauty. JJ's breath caught in his throat, his eyes locked on her as she approached.

"Yo, JJ, you alright?" John B called out, noticing his friend's sudden stillness.

JJ barely registered the question. He was too busy watching Y/N, a proud smile forming on his lips. She spotted him and gave a little wave, her smile radiant.

The Pogues followed JJ's gaze, their eyes widening as they took in the sight of Y/N. It didn't take long for them to put two and two together.

"No fucking way," Kie whispered, a grin spreading across her face. "That's her, isn't it?"

Pope chuckled, nudging JJ. "You sly dog."

John B just shook his head, laughing. "JJ, you never cease to surprise us."

Y/N reached them, her friends hanging back to give her a moment. She walked up to JJ, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Hey, you," she greeted softly, planting a kiss on his cheek.

JJ grinned, his hands resting on her hips. "Hey, beautiful."

The Pogues watched in awe, clearly impressed. Kie was the first to speak up. "Y/N, right? I'm Kie. These are Pope and John B."

Y/N smiled warmly at them. "Nice to finally meet you guys. JJ's told me a lot about you."

John B laughed. "Hopefully all good things."

"Mostly," Y/N teased, winking at JJ.

JJ rolled his eyes, chuckling. "Alright, alright. Enough gawking. Let's enjoy the beach."

As they settled back into their beach day, the Pogues couldn't help but steal glances at JJ and Y/N. It was clear to everyone just how smitten JJ was, and for the first time, the Pogues got a glimpse of the softer side of their friend.

The day continued with laughter, teasing, and the kind of fun only close friends could have. JJ and Y/N were inseparable, and the Pogues took every opportunity to tease them about it.

"So, how did you two meet?" Kie asked, curiosity evident in her voice as they all sat around a small bonfire later that evening.

Y/N glanced at JJ, a playful smile on her lips. "He actually saved me from a pretty bad situation," she said, looking at JJ with admiration.

JJ shrugged, trying to downplay it. "Just happened to be in the right place at the right time."

Pope leaned in, eager for details. "Come on, JJ, don’t be modest. We need the full story."

Y/N laughed. "Alright, I'll tell you. I was at this party, and some guy wouldn't leave me alone. JJ stepped in and got him to back off, by punching him…. but we started talking, and well, here we are."

John B nodded, impressed. "Classic JJ. Always the hero."

JJ rolled his eyes, a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks. "It was no big deal."

Kie smirked. "Sounds like a big deal to me. You’ve got a knack for swooping in, huh?"

Y/N laughed, leaning into JJ. "I guess I’m lucky he did."

The conversation flowed easily, with Y/N fitting seamlessly into the group. They shared stories, jokes, and more than a few embarrassing tales about JJ, much to his dismay.

As the night wore on and the fire crackled softly, John B turned to JJ. "Man, you’ve been holding out on us. Y/N's cool."

JJ looked at Y/N, his expression softening. "Yeah, she is."

Y/N blushed, nudging him playfully. "You're not too bad yourself."

Kie sighed contentedly, watching the exchange. "I’m glad we finally got to meet you, Y/N. You make JJ really happy."

Y/N smiled warmly at her. "I’m glad to meet you guys too. JJ talks about you all the time. You’re like family to him."

Pope raised his drink in a toast. "To new friends and family."

They all raised their drinks. JJ had been hesitant to share Y/N with his friends, but seeing how well she fit in, he realized there was nothing to worry about. He had his girl, and his friends.

[luveline]

reader getting really stressed out about being pregnant for the first time and so hotch just makes her sit down and he totally pampers her for the day?? idk u asked for hotch reqs and this is just the first thing i squeezed out my brain

thank you for requesting <3 fem, 1.2k

There are many things that come with being pregnant. Joy, for sure, but hardship and doubt overwhelmingly. You’re always treating an ailment you didn’t expect to have or worrying that things won’t be ready —that you won’t be ready. 

You’ve developed a bad habit. You can’t stop picking at your hands. Your skin is drier since you’ve been pregnant and the further along you get, the worse it becomes. You scratch at a dry patch between your fingers, wince when it hurts, but continue until there’s no dry skin left to pick, just raw soreness. It’s the first time you’ve made yourself bleed. 

“Are you doing it again?” Aaron asks from the hallway.

You drop your guilty hands down and turn away from his approach. “No, I’m not.” 

“You are, aren’t you?” he asks, a smile in his voice. His hand is warm where he takes your shoulder, turning you to face him. “Show me.” 

“No.” 

“Show me,” he says again, not asking. 

You were supposed to be doing the dishes, but you’d noticed your baby bump was getting in the way, which was oddly beautiful for a few seconds, but was quickly just another imposition in a day full of small annoyances. It is never going to get any easier, your stomach will continue to grow as the baby grows and your body accommodates her, and when you do have her you’ll have to find a way to wash dishes with her held to your chest or on your hip. And it’s lovely, it’s what you signed up for, you can’t wait to be a mom and love your baby, but that’s a big change, too. 

Now you're tail-spin panicking about your life and your hands take the brunt of it. Aaron can’t stop you, but he always tries. 

“I can’t understand why you do this,” he says, parting your fingers gently to assess the damage, “it must hurt. Can you stop?” 

He asks with a mixture of humour and fondness, his eyes on yours and a small smile playing on his lips to encourage a better mood. You don’t have much to give, but you smile back. 

“I know I shouldn’t pick it,” you say. 

“But it’s hard to stop,” he surmises, bringing your hand to his mouth for a soft peck against the back of it, far from your broken skin. 

“I’m just worried.” 

“Oh, I know,” he says, pulling at your hand as he takes your hip in his other and drags you into him. Your bump immediately blocks the way, but bodies are soft, and he keeps on pulling until you’re squished together. 

He smells like something particular. Not cologne or deodorant, not soap or laundry detergent. You can’t put your finger on the scent, your cheek pressed against his shoulder and your nose to his neck, thinking. It’s a sugary smell, but it’s cloying, too, like you’d touch the smell and have a residue on your fingers.

“I changed the air freshener in the bathroom,” he says quietly, his face turned down to yours. 

You don’t bother asking how he knows what you’d been thinking. He’s your mind reader. 

“It was making me feel sick,” you say unnecessarily. 

“I know. Let’s go sit down, my girl.” 

My girl, you think, not sure if you should roll your eyes or hug him tighter. 

You let him lead you from the kitchen to the living room, where he helps you down onto the nice couch, much too nice for babies. You can’t imagine it will stay very clean, but perhaps you’re being cynical. Still, you lean back against the cushions and rub your cheek into clean leather. 

Aaron takes the faux rabbit fur throw from the armrest and shakes it out over you with care, tucking it under your legs, and kissing your cheek as he secures it behind your back. All tucked in, he holds your hands together atop the blanket to encourage you to feel the texture. It’s a good distraction from picking at your hands, which he knows. Aaron knows everything. 

“What do we need?” he asks. “A drink? Dinner’s easy tonight, I’ve promised Jack we’ll make lasagne. Does that sound good to you?” 

You’re honestly not sure. You're quiet for a moment too long. “Sorry,” you frown. 

“I can make you anything you want. It doesn’t bother me.” 

“I feel a little like I’m acting over the top about this.” You’re pregnant. Millions and millions and millions of women have been pregnant. 

“About what?” he asks, sitting beside you on the couch, your blanket untucking under his legs. “Being tired? You can’t decide.” 

“About everything, I guess.” 

“Well, when you figure out what it is that’s making this,” —he puts a hand to your belly— “over the top, you can let me know.” 

You lift your chin. He kisses you soundly. 

It’s nice to be loved like this. 

“What’s up with my baby?” he asks, giving your stomach a soft rub. “Is she moving today?” 

You lean back and he understands that to mean he should feel lower, where you can feel the baby’s weight more clearly. “Not much moving. She gave me a good kick earlier.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I think so.” 

He feels along the bottom of your stomach politely. It’s a little funny, the baby wouldn’t exist without him being rather less polite, but it’s also lovely. You can trust him to be a great father because he’s already an adoring husband. If he treats you with a never ending supply of tender caring and soft touches, it’s easy to picture how he’ll treat your girl. You’ve never once doubted him, and he’s never hurt you. You don’t think he could. 

“There?” he asks, putting his hand to the right side of the bump. 

You can’t be totally certain, but you’re sure he’s right. “Right there, handsome.” 

Things are far less stressful to think of when he’s near. He reminds you in something as small as a thumb to your belly that everything will be taken care of. You’re not half as alone as you feel, and neither is your baby. Aaron can do the dishes while you’re unable. He’d do them even if your only reason was that you didn’t want to. 

“Hello,” he says, charmed, eyes glowing with excitement as you encourage your shirt up over your stomach for a better view. Aaron places his hand to your naked skin, palm hot. “I love you.” 

He has to tap you under the chin for you to know who it is he’s talking to. “I love you, too,” you say quickly. 

He smiles, before his attention falls completely to your stomach once again. “And you, sweetheart. I love you. Can you say hello?” 

He has to talk for a while, but eventually your baby moves. 

Your shoulders relax. You close your eyes and let him murmur to you both, peaceful for a desperately needed half an hour.

[ramblingoak]

Naps With Copia

Nap #11: An Interesting Nap

*This does contain a very very very very mild spoiler for Rite Here Rite Now but it's not something that effected the plot of the movie*

For @angellayercake 💙

Papa Emeritus IV x Reader

These are all stand alone chapters so you do not have to read one before the other! This series came from my post about wanting to nap with Copia all around the abbey. The stories will all have gender neutral readers and soft Copia naps.

Warnings: again just a very very very mild spoiler for the movie, it's based on a brief moment in it! No other warnings, just Copia being loving and soft, sfw, 980 words, not beta read sorry (thank you to @gothdaddyissues for the dividers and @foxybouquet for the Italian help!!)

“Ah, so that’s where it disappeared to.”

Copia’s voice had you blinking awake, squinting against the lights that were backstage.  Your cheeks heated up and you shuffled further under your makeshift blanket to hide them.  Thankfully your Papa looked more amused than anything, a smile pulling at his lips as he dropped down to his knees next to the couch you had claimed.

“Sorry, Papa.”

“Sorry for what, corvetto mio?”  He chuckled when you glanced down at what was covering you, the gem-encrusted robe he wore during rituals.  “Well, it does look lovely on you I must say.”

You burrowed deeper at his complement, until just your eyes were visible.  Copia looked behind him when there was the clatter of boots, the ghouls chasing each other off the stage and then scrambling around to put their instruments away.

“Ai!  No running!”  

He groaned in exasperation when they ignored him, banging the metal doors open and going off to do Satan knows what.  When he mumbled something about gray hairs you reached a hand out from under his robe so you could cup his cheek and get him to meet your eyes.

“I love your gray hair, Papa.”  Copia bit his lip, tilting his head to the side to press against your hand a little harder.  Some of those lovely gray hairs of his tumbled across his forehead and he just looked so lovely you had to tug him close so you could kiss him.  His forehead was first, followed by his precious nose and finally those irresistible lips for a brief moment before you pulled away.  “I love you.  I’m so proud of you, have I told you that yet?”

“Maybe once or twice.”  He grinned and then lifted up his robe to climb onto the couch with you.  “Scootch over, let me join you for a little nap, eh?” 

After a few unfortunately placed knees and elbows the both of you found a comfortable position, one of Copia’s legs shoved in between yours and his arms wrapped around your back.  Your face was pressed against his neck, your lips hovering over where his pulse was strongest.  Another spot you loved to kiss so you did just that, letting your lips linger so you could feel the steady beat against them.  It was too much to resist to poke your tongue out, tasting the sweat and paint that had run down his neck during practice.

“Corvetto mio, if you don’t stop–ah,”  He hissed when you nipped his skin, his voice a little shaky when he continued.  “This nap will get very interesting if you keep that up.”

“Maybe I want an interesting nap, Papa.”

He groaned when you nipped at him again but he didn’t pull away, instead his hands slid down your back stopping when he could slip one of them just beneath the hem of your shirt.  You shivered as the leather of his gloves touched your bare skin.  Copia’s chest vibrated against you when he laughed at your reaction.

The bastard knew you had a thing for his gloves.

In retaliation you grabbed his sparkly scarf, tugging it out of the way so your mouth could reach more of his neck.  He stroked up and down your back as you left more marks on his skin.  Marks you’d have to remember to cover back up with makeup after you both left the safety of the couch.  Your fingers began to fiddle with the buttons of his shirt, opening up a handful of them before Copia let out a frustrated moan, removing his hands from under your shirt so he could stop you.    

“I don’t think this is the best spot for an…interesting nap, corvetto mio.”

“Ugh fine, have it your way.”

A little yelp escaped you when he wrapped an arm around you once more and tugged you as close as he could.  Your face was tucked against his neck again, his own face lowered so his lips brushed against your ear when he spoke in a low voice.

“Oh I will have it my way later, I promise you that.”  You shivered against him, pleased when he rubbed your back again and then tugged the robe back up over your shoulders.  “Besides, I know how rambunctious you get and we don’t want to damage this damned thing.”

“Whatever you say, Papa.”  You giggled when he pressed a noisy kiss to your cheek before settling along his body more comfortably.  “What do you keep calling me?”

“Hmm?”  Copia’s voice was sleepy, the poor man already drifting off.  No doubt exhausted from working so hard during the tour so far.  “You mean ‘corvetto’?”

“Sí.”

“Crow.”  You frowned before lifting your head to look at him.  He was giving you the special smile only you ever saw.  The one where you could see all his love and fondness for you.  “You are like a little crow, stealing my sparkly things.  Like my robe.”

“I was tired!”  His smile grew at your grumpy look, a leather encased finger tapping the pout you were giving him.  “And cold.”

“I didn’t say anything, amore.”

“Yes but you were thinking something.”

“The only thing I was thinking about was how much I adore you, corvetto mio.  And how happy I am that you are here.  With me.”

He quietly wiped at your cheeks with his scarf.  Brushing the few tears away that escaped your eyes.  

“I think after this tour is over I’ll be able to afford even more sparkly things for you to steal.”

“I don’t need sparkly things, Copia.”  You lifted your head up so you could kiss him, moving your lips gently against his and pulling away before the kiss deepened as it inevitably would.  “I just need you.”

“Then you’re in luck, amore.”  He pressed against the top of your head before continuing,  “Because that’s something I can always give you.”

~ Naps With Copia series masterpost ~

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

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[faithshouseofchaos]

I bet you could do a good Lando or Danny learning was scary dog privileges in America are, like a shit girls have it rough but also proud to be the scary dog for their girl

-🐮

I went with Daniel for this because @vivwritesfics did a Lando one for somebody 😭

I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe — Daniel Ricciardo x reader

Fluff

Word count 864

Daniel wasn’t paying attention to what you and your friend were talking about. He was too busy paying attention to the UFC fight that was playing on the tv.

“…..For scary dog privileges right?” Daniel had heard you ask your friend over the phone.

“What did you say?” Daniel asked you. He was hoping you hadn’t caught him listening to your conversation.

You looked up from your phone smiling awkwardly, knowing you had forgotten that Daniel was in the room too. “Err… nothing!” you tried to wave off, but Daniel wouldn’t buy it.

Daniel paused the tv and turned his full attention to you. “No, tell me what you were just saying. “ Scary dog privileges…? “

You were taken aback by Daniel’s interest in the topic. You hesitated, wondering if you should explain it to him, ultimately you hung up the phone promising to call your friend back later.

Daniel studied your expression carefully as you thought about it, his own curiosity piqued.

Finally, you sighed and reluctantly began to explain. “Okay… so there’s this thing in the US…” you started.

Daniel leaned in closer, listening intently. “…called “scary dog privileges”.” You said slowly, watching Daniel’s reaction.

He raised an eyebrow, his curiosity growing. “Go on..” he said, his eyes fixed on you. You tried to downplay the entire thing, chuckling nervously. “It’s just a silly thing women in America do..” you chuckled. “But basically, it’s when people have a big, intimidating dog and use it as a way to feel safer.”

Daniel looked at you skeptically. “Feel safer from what?” he asked. You shrugged “just… being approached or something. “

Daniel narrowed his eyes, not quite understanding. “So people with scary dogs feel safer?” he asked.

You nodded “yeah... kinda.” you paused before continuing. “It’s like a subtle way to signal to strangers that you shouldn’t mess with them.”

Daniel thought about it for a few moments, still not quite getting it. “So… people with scary dogs get special privileges then?” he asked.

You chuckled and shook your head. “No, it’s not really like that… it’s just..” you paused and smiled. “It’s just a little thing a lot of us women do… especially when we’re walking alone. for safety”

Daniel’s eyes widened “So women use scary dogs to feel safe?” he asked, finally understanding.

You nodded “yeah.. something like that.”

Daniel looked a bit worried “Do you feel safe walking alone?” he asked, concerned in his voice.

You shrugged “ I mean.. sometimes..”

Daniel looked at you, clearly not satisfied with that answer. “What do you mean sometimes??” he asked, his protectiveness kicking in. You chuckled lightly, appreciating his concern. “Daniel, I’m fine.” you patted his leg reassuringly.

Daniel looked at you, still worried. “But aren’t there dangerous people out there? What do you do if someone tries something?” he asked, imagining all sorts of scenarios. “That’s it I’m getting you a dog for when I’m not home” Daniel says.

You laugh at his words, half expecting him to say something like that. “A dog?” you ask.

Daniel nods, his expression serious. “Yeah, a dog. A big, scary one.” You roll your eyes playfully “a big, scary one?” you repeat. “And why do I need a big, scary one?”

Daniel’s expression softened as he spoke. “I just want you to feel safe when I’m not around. And a dog might help with that.” You chuckle, touched by his concern. “You don’t think I can handle myself?”

Daniel looks slightly sheepish “I’m sure you can..” he trailed off before giving you a smirk. “But it wouldn’t hurt to have some extra protection I love you way too much to see you get hurt”

Daniel grins excitedly, already planning it out in his mind. “I’ll find one. Probably a German Shepherd or a Doberman or something like that. They’re supposed to be really protective dogs.”

You raise an eyebrow, both amused and a bit overwhelmed by his enthusiasm. “And I bet you’re going to name it something tough, like ‘Zeus’ or ‘Spartacus’ or something like that, right?” you joke.

Daniel laughs “Actually, I was thinking ‘Max’.”

You playfully swat his shoulder “The same name as your best friend and ex-teammate??”

“Hey, Max is a great name for a dog!” Daniel protested.

You roll your eyes again, still smiling. “Alright, alright. So you’re going to get me a big, scary dog named Max?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Daniel says with a satisfied nod. “And it’ll be the best damn guard dog ever.”

You shake your head, chuckling. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Yeah, but you love me for it.” Daniel grins, leaning in to place a kiss on your forehead. You sigh dramatically “ Unfortunately, I do..”

Daniel gives you a mock offended look “hey, I’m a great boyfriend!” “Oh, I know you are.” You pat his hand gently, humoring him. “ But you’re also kinda crazy.”

“But you love the crazy part, don’t you?” Daniel teased, pulling you closer. “Maybe a little..” you admit, snuggling into his side.

“A little?” Daniel laughs.

“Okay, a lot.” you chuckle. “But only because it’s you.” “Damn right it’s because it’s me.” Daniel grins, resting his chin on top of your head. “And you know I’d do anything to keep you safe.”

“ I know.” You say smiling.

Tagged — @ashy-kit @astraeaworld @67-angelofthelordme-67 @anedpev @amatswimming @a-casual-romantic @alwayzbeenale @biancathecool @barcelonaloverf1life @badassturtle13 @bblouifford @bbtoni @charlesf1leclerc @clowngirlsstuff @crashingwavesofeuphoria @dark-night-sky-99 @dudenhaaa27 @entr4p3 @embrosegraves @eugene-emt-roe @formulaal @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @formulas-bitch @hangmandruigandmav @ironcowboycopnickel @jvpiterzs @jeffs77 @lightdragonrayne @laura-naruto-fan1998 @lollypop90907 @moss-on-tmblr @mrs-liebgott @danielshouseofwhores @omgsuperstarg @oconswrld @otako5811 @purplephantomwolf @starkwlkr @strugglingyetvibing @sweate-r-weathe-r @swifth0lic @toasttt11 @the-ghost-lovwr @tallrock35 @uluvjay @vellicora @venusisnothere @vivwritesfics

[luvs4matt]

essay - matt sturniolo

pairing - munch!matt x sub!reader

summary - in which, matt helps reader take a break from work

warnings - SMUT 18+, face sitting, student!reader, squirting, overstimulation, groping, hickeys, impure thoughts, implied blowjob, semi fluff at end, pet names (baby, honey)

you sit at your desk with your computer in-front of you, your hands on the keyboard. you had an essay you needed to finish and have turned in by 11:59 PM, it was 8:36 PM. you had been sitting there writing for a whole hour already and weren’t even half done.

you had to get factual research on a specific topic, had to figure out how to put the information in your own words, then had to type it all out, it was going to take along time.

matt was at your house when you realized you didn’t even start on your essay yet, so now here he was, sitting on your bed, watching you and your side profile. he couldn’t help but to stare at your lips, but then that made him start to think of your other lips.

he specifically thought about how you taste, and how he wants to taste you right now. his mind proceeds to fade to your noises, he so much loved how you sounded when his tongue was on you.

he loved the way you would arch your back off of the bed from how much his tongue pleased you, times you felt so good that you would squirt in his mouth.

god he loved it

you weren’t able to take your mind off of this essay, you had earlier felt an ache in your core, but that was long forgotten about. matt finds himself standing up from the bed, walking behind your desk chair.

he bends down to place kisses down your neck, while his arms went over your shoulders, his hands running up and down your stomach. “you should take a break”

“baby, i can’t. i have to have this turned in my midnight” you start to feel the ache in your core re-build. “sit on my face. give me 5 minutes, i know how to make you cum quick.” he runs his hands up to cup your breast.

you lift your head to give him more access to your neck, he licks, bites, and sucks on the soft flesh, leaving purple bruises.

“i really can’t afford to stop working matt” you sigh “wait, what are you doing” matt stops groping your breasts, pulling his mouth away from your neck. he grabs your laptop, placing it on the bed “c’mere doll” you stand up, slowly walking over towards him “take your pants off”

“matt i told you i-“ matt interrupts you before you could finish “i said, take. your pants. off.” you hesitated, but end up giving in, slipping the short fabric down your legs. matt lays down, so you could crawl on top of him.

you crawl to straddle his waist, instead of hovering above his face. “baby, what is this?” he sits up, gripping your hips, so he could place a sensual yet soft kiss on your lips “you said that you can’t afford to stop writing, and i can’t afford to go any longer without tasting you, so you are going to sit on my face while writing your essay” he pointed behind, showing the google doc still open.

you didn’t know what to say, it was risky but it turned you on even more “fine, but if i fail because of this it’s your fault” he smirks as he lies back down “fine by me, then i’ll just have to make it up to you” you let out a mix of a giggle and a scoff, crawling over him until your pussy was alined with his mouth.

“don’t be shy honey, sit down, and do your work” he mumbles while he places teasing kisses on your inner thighs. matt wraps his arms around your thighs to get more control over the situation, he squeezes your thighs re-assuring you that it’s okay to lower yourself.

you finally give in, lowering yourself onto his mouth. matt immediately gets to work on you, lapping up all of your juices. you let out low moans, while also attempting to focus on your essay.

matt made that very hard

of course your professor had to make the topic about ‘the development of AI technology’ which made this 10x harder. the topic was already hard to get factual information on, but now you are hungrily being ate out by your (munch) boyfriend who knows your body inside and out.

you try to remember the information you are barely able to read, yet you can’t. you could only think of the pleasure “i- i think i’ll just take a break” you slam the screen shut, allowing yourself to relax.

your moans get louder as your pleasure increases, your hands are latched into his hair. he stops sucking on your clit, placing his tongue flat, shaking his head side to side.

“fuck!” your forehead forms beads of sweat, you wanted to prove him wrong about you cumming quick. you try to hold back your orgasm as much as you can but it was tough, you knew that he was right, you will cum quick.

“i’m close!” he continues to pleasure you as a way of giving you permission. your hips grind against him, your clit bumping his nose. you were so focused on chasing your high that you didn’t even realize you were proving him right.

“cum” he groans against your sensitive hole, the vibrations of his voice against you caused you to let go, releasing all over his face. he never stops his tongue movements, purposely overstimulating you. you try to lift your hips to pull away from the overstimulation, but matt uses his strong grip on your thighs to pull you back down.

he couldn’t get enough of your taste, he loved it so much yet he couldn’t explain it, all he knew was that you tasted like a persons favorite meal after a long day.

you feel the tears well in your eyes from all of the pleasure and pain you were experiencing, but that wad a good thing. you loved being overstimulated, you didn’t know why you had a kink for it but you did. matt succeeded at figuring out all of your kinks without you even having to tell him, it was impressive.

you feel every movement of him tongue fucking your sensitive core “oh my god!” his mouth was working fast, he wasn’t going to stop until you cum again. you feel the familiar knot start to re-build in your stomach, you jolt forward when he slaps your ass.

the extra pain from him spanking you only brought you closer to your orgasm, you grind down into his face while pulling on his hair, eliciting a groan from his throat.

his noise sent you over the edge “cumming! i’m cumming!” immense amounts of pleasure wash over you as you squirt all over him. he makes sure you lick you clean before letting you lay down “i’m sorry matt” you cuddle yourself into his chest, the essay long forgotten about.

“for what baby?” you look up at him through your lashes “for.. ya’ know, on your face” he looks at you in confusion before he realizes what you meant “for squirting?” you nod your head, hiding your face in embarrassment.

“never apologize for that honey, it was hot, lets me know you feel good” he softly grips your jaw to turn you back towards him, his fingers run along your jawline as he places a sweet kiss to your lips.

you go back to cuddling him, slowly falling asleep, the essay completely forgotten about.

you squint your eyes open as birds chirping fill your ears, you look over to see a sleeping matt. you were filled with peace until it hits you, you never finished your essay.

you jump up from the bed, waking matt up in the process. you run to your computer, quickly opening it only to see a fully written essay, turned in, with a grade of 98%. how could that be? “i finished it for you last night, now come back to bed, i miss you” matt groans “you did that?”

“mhm, you were worn out, it was the least i could do” you walk to the bed with a smile on your face “let me repay you” you straddle his lap while you kiss all over his neck “how would you do that?” he chuckles.

you kiss from his neck down to his v line “by sucking your dick” he gives you the permission you needed, you pull his pajama pants down for his semi hard dick to be revealed.

you stroke him to get him fully hard before letting saliva run out of your mouth onto his tip. you were in for a fun time now.

a/n - i am trying to make a theme for my blog, please lmk if this looks good !! main masterlist

all photos come from pinterest

tag list !! - @ilovemenwithlonghairr @monroesturnns @sturniolo04 @gdsvhtwa @stvr1ightt13 @chrisspyycremm @colorthecosmos444 @va1ent1naa @sturnfannn @lanaswifeyy

[pupkashi]

a/n: i just wanted to write abt yuta being scary and sexy so here is my word vomit

masterlist

thinking abt bf!yuta who looks and acts so pathetic around u but is so protective and intimidating

yuta is so helplessly in love and devoted to you, even a blind man can feel the love he has for you a mile away. yuta is the first to laugh at your jokes, the first to tell you happy birthday and congratulate you on everything. he’ll give you anything you want the minute you ask for it, no matter what it is.

yuta doesn’t get into arguments with you, he’ll apologize for whatever he did wrong and prove to you he’ll never make the same mistake again. he’ll shower you in gifts and acts of service and spend as much quality time with you as you want.

there isn’t a thing he wouldn’t do for you.

yuta okkotsu isn’t the beefiest man on the planet, nor is he the tallest. but he is the most intimidating when he wants to be. and whenever anyone is a little too friendly with you, he definitely wants to be.

it’s only been two minutes since he left to the use restroom and there there some douchebag was, trying to flirt with you. it makes his blood boil, seeing someone who isn’t him be that close to you, trying to buy you a drink as you politely decline him.

it takes only a moment for yuta to walk up to you, snaking his arm around your waist and pulling you close to him.

“who’s this, angel face?” he asks you, his voice is soft and sweet as he speaks to you, but his eyes are sharp and venomous as he stares at the other man.

“he just was talking to me about some sport, he’s nobody yuu” you smile, trying your best to contain the situation while you could.

“yeah i was just leavin, don’t wanna waste my time on something used��� the man snorts, turning around before his body is jolted backwards as yuta grabs his wrist.

the man immediately cried out in pain, knees buckling as yuta’s grip only tightened. “how ‘bout you quit crying and apologize,” yuta taunts, jaw clenched as his grip grew stronger.

“baby please i don’t want a scene” you plead, squeezing his arm and forcing him to look at you. yuta always thought your eyes were so alluring. something about them brought him a sense of serenity he never thought was possible.

“okay” he mumbles, letting go of the man’s wrist, rolling his eyes as the man cradled his now broken wrist, crying out about his pain and running the opposite direction.

the two of you don’t stick around, walking out into the hot summer breeze before you stop, hands on your hips as you stare at your lover.

“yuta” your tone is more than enough to stop him dead in his tracks, slowly turning on his heel with a sheepish smile on his face.

if you didn’t know your lover, you never would’ve guessed that the man who’s a stuttering and blushing mess in front of you broke a man’s write for flirting with you.

his shoulders are slouched a bit, strands of black hair framing his face perfectly as he tried his best to defend himself.

“I’m sorry darling” he begins, already giving you the puppy eyes you fall for, “i couldn’t just stand by and let some scumbag try to talk you up without-” you cut him off by grabbing his hand and pulling him to sit with you on a nearby bench.

“pretty boy, you know I’m only yours right?” the words make yutas fave flush a deep red, nodding softly as he looks at the ground. “you don’t have to fight or threaten every person who gets too close to me, i can handle myself” you explain.

“you shouldn’t have to” yuta mumbles, looking at you with a small pout. “i wanna be the one to protect you,” he sighs, “i wanna let the world know that they shouldn’t even think about trying anything with you.”

there’s a beat of silence and yuta is about to apologize again before you’re crashing your lips onto his. it’s a shock to him, but he immediately kisses you back, smiling when you bite his bottom lip softly.

“cmon let’s go home,” you smile, laughing when yuta practically jumps up, back to his sunshine smile as he intertwines his fingers with yours.

“you wanna make some cookies and watch a movie?” he asks, swinging your held hands as you two walks together down the empty street.

“you read my mind, pretty” you grin, leaning into him as the two of you walked, loving how he instinctively put his arm over your shoulder and kissed the top of your head.

there’s not a care in the world for you. you’d never have to look over your shoulder or carry a weapon with you. as long as yuta was by your side the only thing you’d have to worry about is stopping him from killing anyone who hurt you, intentionally or not.